I only know what I do of rugby because of several excellent school stories I read in my youth. Not Psmith, but ones of a similar vein, only rugby and so forth.

Also, this is going off my incomplete memory of those books, so if I mix up sports... my apologies. Feel free to correct me.

Naturally, this is leaving Narnia, and returning to England.

Prompt #10: The family (or part of the family, or part of the Friends of Narnia) comes to watch one of Edmund's rugby games.

"Edmund!" came a yell, and before he could quite comprehend what was going on, Susan had thrown herself into his arms. His sister, once the Gentle Queen, and still as gentle as ever, clung to him with a fierce grasp. "Royal brother, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you!" she declared, into his coat. "You must tell me everything, as soon as possible."

Then she released him, and drew back. The first thing Edmund noticed was that Susan looked older; she was wearing a touch of rouge on her flushed cheeks, and there was a certain something in her bearing that he had learned to associate with an older Susan. In some ways he was seeing Queen Susan more than ever before in England: in others, she seemed further away. There were tears in her eyes, but she held her head high.

"I shall, royal sister."

"It's hard," said Susan in a whisper, voice breaking. "Staying strong. Having faith. I struggled with it in Narnia, Ed, when Aslan was away too long. Not often, just occasionally. But I remember it. But I—I—oh, Ed, I scarcely remember it! It's like a dream, or a dream of a dream."

"It is hard," he said gently. "But, Su, remember. Stay with the rest of us. Talk to us about Narnia. You don't have to shut it out."

"I know," she said, and this time she began to sob. "But I, I've been so alone lately. I haven't had any of you to talk to. Even Peter at the Professor's has had the Professor to talk to. I haven't had anyone. Except letters of course, and yours have been a great deal of comfort to me, but it's not the same."

"It is not, royal sister," said Edmund in an even softer voice. "Be strong and of good courage."

Susan's expression froze, and for a moment she looked on the verge of a breakthrough; then the look faded, and she was left merely puzzled instead. "That—that reminded me of something I heard once," she said, breathless but more in the way of having no energy to draw breath again. "I almost, almost remembered it."

"Aslan has another name in our world," said Edmund irrelevantly. He also felt like he recognised the line from both England and Narnia, and it was like a strange double vision, as his two lives collided over a single piece of dialogue that Aslan had said once to Susan.

"Maybe it's—perhaps it's some holy book, or something. Maybe that's what Aslan is... oh Edmund, I don't know..." She trailed off, looking lost. "I wish there was a way to find out."

"Keep searching, Su," said Edmund gravely. "Just keep searching, and I know you'll find him someday. I hope that we all will."

"I know we all will," she said, squaring her shoulders and drawing herself up to her full height. "Aslan promised that we shall. He gave us a chance that nobody else gets, so far."

"Then again, Eustace Clarence Scrubb was sent to Narnia with us, so perhaps there are more to join him later," said Edmund. "And don't forget those who were in Narnia at its beginning, who I wish I could know: the Lord Digory and the Lady Polly. I wonder when they were. If only I knew even a vague indication of their timelines, or maybe their present ages, I could have found them. For now, I'll have to wait until I discover more."

Susan sighed. "I think waiting is the hardest thing Aslan ever proscribed for us. Waiting until we see him. Waiting until he gives us strength to go on."

"It's not just strength that he gives us, internal strength," said Edmund. "Sometimes Aslan gives us friends and family who will hold us up when we're falling."

"As you do me," said Susan, with a grateful glance and smile.

"That's what we're here for," said Edmund simply.

"What, all of you, turning out just for rugger?" echoed Edmund in disbelief, looking at the assembled throng. His parents stood to one side, almost sidelined by Peter, Susan, Lucy and Eustace, as well as (surprise of all surprises!) the Professor himself, with a short, pleasant looking woman at his side, whom Edmund did not know. "What did I do to be given this surprise?" he asked, as he went to greet the Professor. "Hullo, sir!"

His hand was taken in the Professor's characteristic firm grip, then the stranger offered her own. Edmund took it out of pure instinct, and only afterwards thought to be surprised.

"Ma'am," he said.

"This is Miss Plummer, Edmund," the Professor introduced him. "My dearest, and oldest, friend. She alone knows every detail of my life, including how mine and yours have collided."

"So then—she knows—" said Edmund, still hesitant.

"Edmund, you must win this game," said Miss Plummer, face lighting up. "Remember it's—for Narnia, and for Aslan!"

Susan turned, brightening. "For Narnia!"

"And for Aslan!" said the Professor, a sparkle in his eyes.

"This is going to be the most entertaining game of rugger I've ever played, I do believe," said Edmund. "I'll be in a scrum and imagine my opponent's a wolf, or something."

"Don't forget I don't have my cordial," chimed in Lucy. "Don't injure them."

"Don't you remember the twenty-three wolves I led back to Cair Paravel once?" retorted Edmund. "Unharmed? I'm capable, Lu. I didn't spend all my time killing the bad ones, you know."

He realised, too late, what it might remind Peter of; his brother's face darkened, but the storm clouds cleared as quickly. "How about killing the good ones, for a change?" asked Peter, not entirely kindly.

"Peter," said Edmund, rebukingly, and his brother fell silent, although there was a mutinous expression on his face. They did not need to revisit it. "I have to go," added Edmund hurriedly, seeing somebody signalling through the crowd. "I'll see you afterwards."

"I'm telling you," said Edmund, pale with rage, "he punched me. While your back was turned, sir. It was deliberate."

"An accidental elbow doesn't count as a punch, Pevensie," snapped his antagonist, but as the umpire turned to consult with somebody else, his lips turned faintly upward in a gloating smile. "Be fair, you cheater."

A shocking surge of violent anger swept through Edmund and sent him quite dizzy. "Do not call me a cheater," he said, voice unsteady and not at all his own; somehow low and quiet and deadly. "Call me a traitor if you like, but not a cheater!"

Somewhere in the last sentence, his voice had risen to a shout, and he was standing very close to his opponent, towering over him.

"Edmund, no!" cried Lucy, from the stands.

"Traitor, Pevensie? What's this?" asked one of his teammates with a dubious expression, standing well away from the confrontation.

"Don't talk to me," said Edmund through his teeth, trying to quell his anger, and flung himself around, stamping all the way to the seats in which his family were gathered.

"Don't do anything rash, Edmund," started Susan, looking worried.

"I want to give Breckenridge the pounding he deserves, but I won't. Not unless he says something more. Knowing him, he might. And he already punched me."

"Ed, you shouldn't mention Narnia things like that, just throwing them around in that careless way," said Peter. He was trying to calm him, but Edmund felt only angrier, and the shakes were setting in.

"I can't exactly help what I say like that, now can I? Be grateful I didn't hit him and be done with it."

"Edmund," said Susan, in her most motherly tone.

He resented this, and turned sharply to her, long repressed words boiling up and, finally, over. "I've had enough of this. You're not my mum, Su. Quit acting like it. You're my sister, not even three years older than me." In a lower, but still incensed, voice, he added, "I've had three decades of life experience despite how young I look now. I love you, Su, but you're not my mum."

She looked stricken, and Edmund felt a sick horror sitting low in his stomach. What had he done? What had he said? Why had he said it?

King Edmund the Just!—He was nothing greater or lesser than a fool.

Please review! I don't quite know where the latter half of this came from really...