Because he was waiting for his feet to heal, Edmund didn't leave Charn with Tumnus and Eustace (Aslan had created a ship for their departure before taking his own leave from the cold, snowy country), and of course Lucy stayed behind with him.

Edmund wished his former accomplices the best of luck. He knew Eustace would be going to find Jill Pole the second that ship docked on the mainland of Narnia, and Tumnus had admitted, rather bashfully, that he thought he might very much like to go to the Ramandus' mansion and see how Clara was doing.

"I'm hoping," the faun had added, reddening, "you and Lucy will be able to be witnesses at my wedding next."

Lucy had kissed them both and hugged them tightly by way of biding farewell, ignoring Eustace's annoyed mumble of, "Cousin-in-law, you're getting my clothes all wrinkled!"

After waving goodbye till the ship was long out of sight, Edmund had said, "It's freezing," and Lucy, agreeing, had taken his chair back inside where it was warm; and things went on as they had before, a little quieter, perhaps, now that Tumnus and Eustace were gone, but more or less the same otherwise.

It was hardly a week since they'd left when Peter arrived.

It was a particularly dark morning, though a little warmer than usual (that is, for Charn; anywhere else it still would have been considered bitterly cold), and Lucy was sitting in the bedroom by the bay-window with the curtains open so she could look out at the currently shadow-coloured snow mounds outside while sipping a cup of tea and nibbling on a biscuit. If Peter had passed by that way, she would have seen him and run out to greet him, but he didn't, going, instead, straight for the front door, which Edmund, in his wheeled chair, was currently closer to.

"Come in," he said, at hearing a knock, pushing the wheels closer to the door so he could see whoever it was as they entered. "It's not locked."

Peter, red-nosed and cross-looking, his eyes blood-shot, and specks of sleet in his hair, opened the door and walked in unsurely. "Hullo?"

"Hey, Pete."

He looked down and saw the familiar dark-headed boy sitting in a wheeled chair like a cripple. "You!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"Nice to see you, too," said Edmund, flinching slightly. He was suddenly very thankful to be crippled; Peter wouldn't hit a fellow confined to a wheeled chair, but he might very well have knocked him down if he'd been able to stand.

"This is the first inhabited place I've found since I got here yesterday," he said in a tense, strained voice. "I found a castle in ruins, and there's nobody at the cabin on the left."

"That's right," said Edmund vaguely.

Peter scowled at him; he was done beating round the bush. "Hang it all! Where's Lucy?" he demanded loudly. "What have you done with her?"

That's right, Edmund thought, he doesn't know why I left, either. Great, another person I have to explain everything to. Out loud, he said, "She's fine." He turned the chair around and pointed over towards the bedroom. "She's right in there. Honestly, I'm surprised she hasn't heard you shouting yet."

"She's safe?" Peter's breath caught in his throat like he scarcely dared to believe it.

"Yes," said Edmund, more gently, knowing how worried Peter must have been for his sister. "I know you don't trust me, but-"

Peter cut him off. "That's right, I don't." Then he walked into the bedroom. "Lu?"

Lucy, lost in her thoughts, listening to the wild blowing of the wind and inhaling the smell of peppermint steaming up from her tea, turned her head and blinked at her brother in shock for a few seconds, unable to register that he was really and truly there in the flesh.

"Oh, Lucy!" he cried, running over to her. "I'm so sorry. I only wanted to protect you."

"Peter!" She jumped up and threw her arms around her brother's waist. "I missed you so much."

He stroked his little sister's hair and held her close. "Oh, thanks be to the Lion!"

"What are you doing here?" Lucy laughed, pulling away.

"I came after you," said Peter, a little pathetically. "It was hard going, finding you. Charn isn't exactly on the map. I was so scared you would be hurt or lost, or starved, or worse."

"I'm sorry you worried," said Lucy, "but I'm perfectly well." She added, "I sent word to you by Tumnus and Eustace about a week ago, but I guess you were on your way long before then."

"But, Lucy, what were you thinking, leaving your horse behind at the inn? Eh?" Peter had to know. "Snowflake would be pinning away, if the demented creature didn't love oats so blasted well."

It was true, Lucy was only the second great love of that horse's life, oats was the first. "I knew I couldn't take a horse over the water with me, and some places in the forest were too dense."

"That's true," Peter had to admit.

"But what about you?" Lucy asked. "Tell me about how you got here."

He did so, from start to finish, leaving out only one thing-something she didn't understand.

"If Susan was with you, shouldn't she be here now?"

Peter hung his head.

"What happened?" Lucy felt her face falling.

"Lu, did you by any chance meet a chap called Bacchus on the way here?"

"Yes," she said. "He gave me a silver dress and helmet. Aravir, the morning star, is friends with his girls."

"Well, so did Susan."

"Oh no." Lucy's eyes widened. "Not Su. She's too sensible for that."

"That's what I thought," said Peter sadly. "But she changed so much and so suddenly. When I told her I wanted to leave, she said was staying with the other girls. I was confused, because before that she'd been so set on finding you together, her and me. We both wanted to make sure you were safe, and to apologize for what we did, but all of a sudden she didn't care about anything but dancing and invitations to feasts. I know she wasn't under a spell-I could read her mind, it was all there, yet... I don't know. But I lost her there and had to go on alone the rest of the way."

Lucy put her hand on her brother's shoulder. "Bacchus doesn't have boys, but he'll let you visit her. Maybe she can even come to the mansion sometimes."

"She isn't the same, Lu," he said, shaking his head. "How did you keep from being persuaded when you were with Bacchus?"

"Aravir helped me." Then she blushed. "And I was really set on rescuing Edmund."

"Well, the morning star wasn't there during our stay." Peter sighed heavily. "As for Edmund, let's get back to that now. It doesn't look like he needed much rescuing." He gave the room a quick overview, fairly impressed. "Seems like he had a nice enough home here to run off to after leaving you. The climate is too cold, perhaps, but otherwise, it's grand enough."

"No, you don't understand," Lucy began.

But Peter noticed something else: there was only one bed in the room. "Lu, is this the only bedroom?"

Lucy nodded, not picking up on his meaning. "Yes, why?"

"It's yours?" Peter asked.

"And Edmund's," Lucy replied honestly, in all innocence.

"I see." His eyes narrowed.

And, unfortunately, Edmund picked that exact moment to enter the room on his wheeled chair.

Peter gave him such a nasty facial expression that it would probably have struck him down dead in a heartbeat if only looks could kill.

"Somebody's in a bad mood," Edmund commented under his breath, but still loudly enough that both Peter and Lucy heard what he said quite clearly.

"Don't push me," Peter warned him. "This is all your fault, you two-timing cowardly con-artist."

Lucy frowned. "Peter, you're my brother and I love you, but if you speak to my husband like that again, I'll show you to the door."

Peter crinkled his forehead, the fire going out of his eyes. "Wait... Husband?"

Lucy struggled against a demented little smile and nodded.

"Lu, you remember he left the mansion before you could get married, right?"

"No, Peter," Lucy laughed, clearing up the misunderstanding. "We were married here, in Charn. By Aslan."

Peter shook his head, greatly confused. "I think you'll need to back up a bit, Lu. I'm not following this at all."

It took hours to tell her story completely, omitting no important details, but it was well worth the effort because when she had finished Peter no longer wanted to kill Edmund, he looked forgiving of him as well as a little sorry for all he'd gone through.

"I wish I'd known you were trying to protect her by leaving," Peter said to Edmund at last. "If only you could have told me something! But I suppose the witch would have impeded that. I'm awful sorry for assuming the worst of you, Edmund."

"That's all right," Edmund told him. "I'm sorry you had to come all this way."

"Friends?" Peter offered his hand for Edmund to shake.

He shook it, grinning. It would be nice, finally having his brother-in-law for a friend instead of a reluctant enemy.

It was settled that, for the time being, Peter could take the cabin on the left, since it was currently empty anyway. He hadn't worked out how long he would stay, whether or not he would wait for Edmund's feet to heal and travel back with his sister and brother-in-law, but there was no hurry. Aside from Susan having become one of Bacchus's madcap girls, everything seemed to be falling back into place.

"Aren't you coming to bed?" Lucy asked her husband that night, seeing him fiddling with a quill-pen, passing the feather in and out of the spaces between his fingers, his wheeled chair pulled up to the table in the bedroom.

Lost in thought, Edmund blinked and murmured, "Mmm?" Then, registering what she had said, "I'll be there later, Lucy-Lu, I'm not feeling very tired right now."

"All right." She put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Lu." Edmund looked down at the quill-pen in his hand again. He was thinking about the bonfire, when he wouldn't read that fairytale aloud.

There was just one thing more-one story-he needed to come to terms with before he turned his back on his traitorous past for ever and started anew.

And what better way to do so than to write it in the form of in a letter to his wife?

AN: Reviews welcome.