AN: Sorry this chapter is a bit on the short side. I plan to make the next one longer.
Each and every one of Edmund's letters had already been opened and presumably read. There were more of them than Lucy had expected. Judging by the sheer amount and by the post-mark dates, she came to the conclusion that he had written her once a week, every week; possibly more. They were, for the most part, very ordinary sort of letters; pretty much filled the day to day things about his life in Cair Paravel-peppered with a joke or two sprinkled occasionally over the last few paragraphs. His happiest times were recorded, but also his saddest. He confided to her that he secretly feared not being good enough to finish this or that necessary course to qualify for knighthood.
"Having studied swordsmanship all my life, you would think that I would at least not need to worry about making a klutz of myself, but no, I do worry about it, especially in front of Corin-he's a prince from Archenland come to be a knight of our court here in Narnia because he will never wear his father's crown (He has an older twin brother, you see). The boy must have been born fighting! He's almost two years younger than I am and yet he's so speedy when he's got a blade in his grasp. One of our instructors, Sir Valemon, says that I shouldn't compare myself to him seeing as I'm far more, to quote this demented man, 'graceful' in my movements when I fence than he is. Graceful! I'm trying to be a knight not a ballet dancer, for Aslan's sake! I told him that, too, but he just chuckled. Lu, I know life is going to go on whether or not I make it as a knight, but there are times I think I almost wish it wouldn't."
Whenever Lucy read passages from his letters that were like this one, in which Edmund wrote to her in deep confidence, she felt her cheeks grow red hot at the thought of her mother reading this when it wasn't meant for her. Lucy felt glad that she didn't know her mother's reactions to any of his words. If she had known them and they weren't understanding, as was more likely than not, she wasn't sure she would have been able to go on respecting her mother the way an honest daughter should.
In one of the letters, he had some surprising news for her, "Lucy-lu, you will never guess who has turned up here for training! Are you sitting down? Go on, take a seat, I'll wait. Okay, now I can tell you-get ready to laugh until your side aches-it's your own cousin, Eustace! Yes, that aunt of yours actually thought her prissy boy could be a knight! In all fairness, I almost feel sorry for him. He is horribly awkward at practice. And at breakfast. and at the noon meal. And at study hour. And at...well you get the idea. He also always seems to be ill-every day he has a new symptom. I think I could learn to like him for your sake (Even if he was idiot enough to allow his mother to turn you away) if only he wasn't so darn smug! He seems to be an expert on the right way to do everything. The other day, he scolded the grand duchess-the duke of Narnia's own daughter, mind you-because she didn't underline in her study books! She angrily muttered something in Lantern-waste French from which I gathered she did not take his criticism very well. And that was when he was trying to be NICE. Dead serious. When he's trying to be a little beast, he never fails to over step the mark and be a true nightmare. In the short time he has been here, he has done the following: Grabbed a talking mouse (Who come to find out is one of our new instructors, Sir Reepicheep. Who would have guessed?) and swung him by the tail, ruined six perfectly good swords in unmentionably stupid ways, offended nearly everyone at the castle except for maybe the cook-who is hard of hearing and wasn't listening when he bad-mouthed the food, stolen the food he bad mouthed from Cair Paravel's kitchen after hours, and lamed, yes you read that right, LAMED, a royal steed!"
Lucy smiled at the mention of her naughty cousin, even if she did feel bad for Edmund having to put up with him. At least he had some friends and for the most part, in spite of everything, did seem to be enjoying himself. She wasted no time in writing him a letter in explanation of why she had not answered any of his letters sooner. She apologized and very nearly begged for him to write back soon to assure her that they were still friends.
When she showed the letter to Peter, he recommended that she slip it into the same envelope as his letter to Edmund so that Helen wouldn't be likely to take it out of the post-box and read it before it could be sent. Also, he tore a piece of scrap paper for an extra enclosement in which he wrote: "Ed, as Lucy has already explained to you in her letter, which you will find enclosed in my own letter to you, Helen has not been giving Lucy the letters you send her. In the future, please address such letters to me or else to Susan and we will see that she gets them. -Peter"
So after that, whenever Edmund's letters to Lucy arrived, they were addressed to Peter or Susan. When the letters had been sent under Susan's name for nearly three times in a row, Peter joked that Helen would begin to wonder why he was writing to her so often.
"Let's not say anything, let her think we're courting if she wants to." Susan said mischievously, countering Peter's suggestion of perhaps coming up with an excuse that would make her suspicions die down a bit. "That would create quite a scandal among her little gossip group. Sullen strongly disliked girl courts sword boy."
Peter laughed and shook his head. "I think you're positively enjoying deceiving Helen!"
"You've noticed!" Susan said smiled cheekily, letting her old self shine through for a moment, reminding Peter of the olden days of their youngest childhood years when they'd both been two little care-free imps of children who could kick up ruckuses that the neighbors would remember for a decade. Of course, things had long changed between then since then. Now, he was no longer an equal to her-not exactly a playmate anymore-but an advisor, a sort of fatherly professor. He wasn't sure most days if he mourned that loss for any other reason than the fact that it had vanished through pain and suffering, but he did often wonder what their relationship would be like if she'd never been kidnapped. They probably wouldn't have been as close-his love for her had grown rapidly through all the worry she placed upon him-which would have been a shame. Still, he had out-grown the pig-tail pulling stages of his boyhood by the age of ten so what exactly what the answer to his questions would have been remained largely unknown.
On days when new letters from Edmund were slipped into her hands by Peter or Susan as they seemly strolled innocently down the hallway past her, Lucy would clutch it into the folds of her dress and smuggle it unseen over to the gold-and-white staircase in the North-eastern guest wing. She knew it was rarely even touched except by servants who came to polish the large golden griffin statue at the end of the white-gold banister. She would make herself comfortable on the cool white-and-cream swirl coloured marble, take out the letter, unfold it as quickly as her nimble little fingers would allow, and read it. Then she would stare out at nothing, look back at the own letter in her hands, and read it again and again as if for the first time.
"Today we had a mock tournament. Eustace said it was a rotten business and we'd all end up poking each other's eyes out. Corin told him to shut up. I have to admit, I was a little nervous myself but I would never have said that in front of the others. I say it to you because I know you aren't the sort to hold that against me. Also, so after I get my meek statement out of the way, I can brag a bit (I hope you wont think any worse of me for it) and tell you that I won. I was only unhorsed once and that was AFTER the knight I was training with had already fallen and admitted defeat. In all honesty, Lu, I think you would really like some of the things we do here. You were very handy with a sword when I was teaching you and I assume you'd be a fair shot at archery, too. If there have never been any female knights, you should be the first. But there, I'm talking like a crazy person again, forgive me."
Lucy answered in a sort of jest: "I've decided to take you up on your offer, Edmund. I will come to Cair Paravel holding a giant spear (Wont my mum be so terribly proud) and challenge you to a duel in front of all your new friends. No wait, Better plan, I'll swipe Peter's clothing and sword so you wont even know you've been beaten by a girl until it's over. -just kidding, Ed."
He wasn't the sort not to tease back when he had been teased. "What fun! After you've disarmed me, you can start polishing all our swords until they gleam. As I seem to recall, you were very good at that once. -it is a jest, Lu, although perhaps not quite as funny as yours."
And so in such a manner, a full year passed and Lucy turned thirteen.
AN: Please review!