Emma leaned back against the smooth rock. It was warm and somehow seemed to fit perfectly against her back. Edmund was stretched out on the sand next to her, staring out across the endless expanse of sea. Without once looking at her, he'd told her his whole guilty story.

"It was so long ago," he said, in the same quiet intense voice he'd used the whole time. "I was just a kid, but it's stayed with me. Part of me wonders if I'll ever move on from it."

In Emma's eyes Edmund had suddenly changed, become younger somehow. He was only seventeen, a year older than her! He wasn't Edmund, King, anymore, but just another boy, no more special than she was. He'd made the same mistakes as her.

"It must be awful to see your family everyday and think what could have happened to them," Emma remarked, thinking of how hard it had been for her to act as normal around them all. When her memory had returned and she'd remembered all that had happened she'd been so ashamed she'd locked herself in her room for the whole day, telling people she felt really tired. How could she ever face them all again?

Edmund frowned in deep thought. "It's not that bad," he replied slowly. "I know they've forgiven me. No, facing them wasn't the worst bit."

"What was?" Emma asked curiously.

"Facing Aslan." Edmund nodded decisively. "That was the absolute worst part." He looked round. "What's wrong?" he asked, because as he had spoken Emma had given an involuntary gasp. She was suddenly very pale and she looked like she'd seen a ghost. Edmund knew suddenly what it was and he turned to face her fully.

"You've seen Aslan, haven't you?" he said in a near whisper. Emma was still too stunned to reply and merely nodded. Edmund moved closer to her instinctively. "It was when you were asleep, wasn't it? When you were having those bad dreams?"

"I guess," Emma replied. "I… I didn't know who or what he was, it was just this feeling, this… I don't know, a voice I could hear. But when you said that name… Aslan… it was like I'd always known, like…"

"I know," Edmund agreed, seeing the pain at remembering on her face. "It's… it's not easy." Now he understood what had happened; Aslan had saved them all again, without their even knowing it. He felt momentarily guilty for ever doubting him; Aslan had never let them down before.

"He said I was forgiven," Emma was telling him, her voice hesitant and tiny. "That… that no harm was done, and that no one would ever blame me. But it was so awful at the same time, admitting it all… I guess I must have blocked it all out afterwards, or he must have made me forget or something. I don't know." She shook her head.

Edmund reached and touched her hand. "Well, if Aslan can see fit to forgive you, I'm sure no one else will have any trouble."

Peter watched his younger brother walking along the beach, his hand barely touching the girl next to him. Something about his posture had changed in the last few days, it was like he'd become the man he always should have been.

"They do make a nice couple," Susan remarked, following his gaze. She checked her older brother's reaction to her statement. She couldn't help feeling apprehensive about Edmund's sudden new interest in Emma; how could they ever be sure she was safe? She claimed to have seen Aslan, but maybe she'd just made it up, maybe she was faking all along. She was reluctant to let her younger brother just lose himself like this.

"I suppose," Peter agreed. He turned away from the window. "He's not spending much time on his duties though. He does still have a country to run, after all."

"Peter, you're not… you're not jealous are you?" Susan asked him.

"Of what?"

"Well… Edmund and Emma and…" Susan shrugged.

Peter raised his eyebrows. "You think I'm jealous of my little brother finding a new friend?" He smiled. "Don't be stupid. I just think he's neglecting his responsibilities."

"He is only seventeen," Susan reminded him gently. "He's…"

"Too young to be acting like this over a girl!" Peter said, suddenly bitter. "He's barely more than a child, Mother and Father would be disgusted!"

"But he's old enough to be king?" Susan pointed out the flaw in his argument. "And anyway, Mother and Father aren't here."

"No, I know." Peter recognised the pain on his sister's face. "I'm sorry, Su, I just…"

"It's alright." Susan shook her head, wanting to get away from her brother suddenly. "I'll be in my room if anyone needs me."

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like Ryan out of The OC?" Emma asked Edmund, her head in his lap.

"Like who out of what?" Edmund looked down at her in complete confusion.

"Oh yeah, I forgot!" Emma laughed. "Sorry, it's a television programme. I guess you wouldn't have seen it."

Edmund smiled, and stroked her long blonde hair. "Not exactly. We don't really get television much back home."

Emma sighed. "It's weird. Us both being here, together, but back in our world we'd be…"

"Generations apart," Edmund concluded. "I'm fifty-eight years older than you."

"That's disgusting!" Emma giggled, pulling a face. "I prefer to think of it as a year!"

They both laughed.

"Come on, I want to hear about your life," Edmund encouraged her. "You were born when?"

"Nineteen eighty-eight," Emma replied. "I've got an older brother and sister. My parents got divorced when I was ten…"

"Divorced?" Edmund yelped, amazed. No one from his time had got divorced, apart from Uncle Roger and it was well known that he was an eccentric.

"Yes, divorced!" Emma laughed. "It's really not a big deal nowadays. All of my friends parents' are divorced. Some are even divorced twice!"

Edmund shook his head. "That's incredible. Doesn't it upset you? I mean, when my father went away to war, I… well to be honest I became a right brat."

Emma shook her head. "No, not really. It's not like I don't see him. They started off sharing custody, you know, one week at my dad's, one week at my mum's. But that was so knackering… sorry, I mean, exhausting, that I guess even my dad could see that we couldn't keep it up. So I live with my mum, but Dad only lives like two bus stops away and he gets to take me on holiday every summer… well, to the Lake District, if that counts as a holiday!"

"I liked the Lake District," Edmund said thoughtfully. "We went a few years before we were evacuated. Last holiday we had all together in fact."

"It's nothing on this place though, is it?" Emma pointed out, looking out across the rolling hills all around them. "This is… this is like something else."

Edmund knew she was right. He'd never exactly taken Narnia for granted, it wasn't as though he'd started ignoring the country for all its wonderful qualities. It was just that when someone had lived in the same place for so long, it became almost second nature to not marvel at it every single day. But spending time with Emma, seeing things for the first time like her… it was like he'd only just stepped into Narnia again. It was like he was the ten-year-old boy he'd been when they'd first stumbled through that wardrobe.