EDMUND PEVENSIE glances toward the bow of the boat where Lucy and Trumpkin sit in silence before returning his attention to me. "Is he that bitter about everything?" His voice is low so only my sensitive ears can hear.

Realizing he's referring to the dwarf and his cynicism regarding the Old Kings and Queens, I bite back my laughter. "I hope not."

He grins while I readjust my grip on the stern, pulling my body a little further from the water to rest my arms along the smooth, wooden ledge.

"Hang on," I mumble, closing my eyes for a second. My jaw clenches when I feel the protesting change flow through me yet again. Doing my best to overlook it, I pour myself into lengthening my tail so it nearly doubles in size. A relieved sigh slides past my lips when it's over.

"'Only the occasional bruise'?" He questions, repeating my own words sarcastically. Despite his teasing, Edmund appears utterly unimpressed as he awaits my reply.

With a dramatic roll of my eyes, I loose another sigh and briefly draw back the veil painted over my skin, revealing scars and bruises of all colours and shades. "Would you rather they know the full extent?" I shoot back. Edmund's face falls as he takes in my true appearance for the fleeting moment that it's visible, then I throw the veil on again and he blinks at me in shock. I simply raise an eyebrow at the King that says: see?

He continues to stare dazedly, eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Why...?"

I inhale deeply through my nose, considering how best to explain it. "Chimæras learn to shift just like humans learn to walk. It's an innate skill, but I didn't have my parents to teach me. Cornelius and the Narnians knew enough to help, but I haven't exactly perfected it."

His frown deepens with confusion. "So are you always...?"

I try not to visibly grimace as the implications I've asked myself before circulate my thoughts. Am I always purple and red? Am I always in pain? Do I always hide it? "No," I say.

He doesn't believe me, I can see it in his eyes. But it is the truth. Stubborn.

"It only happens when I shift between forms that are dramatically different in size," I explain. "Turning legs into a tail is simple, unless..." unless I've been shifting between a mouse, a hawk, a mermaid and two different human forms like a lunatic since last night.

"Unless you've been changing like that a lot," he supplies.

I nod. "Exactly."

Edmund checks the rudder before leaning on it comfortably. "So, have you got a favourite?" He asks.

A favourite form? I mull over the question thoughtfully. "I haven't really thought about it before," I admit. Ed smiles beautifully and waits patiently for my answer, a curious shine in his eyes. And, looking at the dark-haired boy in front of me, I find my answer sooner than I expect.

"Human," I say. And somehow, his smile grows.

"And what about after that?"

I don't even have to think about my response. "Anything with wings," I say. The sensation of my wings cutting through the air with the wind against my feathers and the whole world within reach makes my heart soar. The King's expression turns both wistful and pained, causing my heart to constrict. Quickly, I try to change the topic. "What about you?"

His gaze returns to me, unwavering and no longer distant. His smile returns as he ponders his answer. "If I could turn into anything?" He drums his fingers against the wooden rudder. "I don't know," he muses. "Taller, maybe –"

I burst into laughter, causing a grin to spread across his face.

"– more handsome," he adds, wiggling his eyebrows. I scoff and splash water at him. Laughing, he recoils from my attack but the teasing smirk is still there.

"Arryn?"

As one, Edmund and I turn our heads to the bow of the rowboat where Lucy watches us.

She's too cute. "Yes, your majesty?"

The young queen smiles shyly. "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." I lock gazes with Ed and can't help a mischievous smile as I release my hold on the stern and sink up to my collarbone in the cool river. His brown eyes don't leave mine as I swim away; only when I use my tail to splash more water at him does he flinch away and shout indignantly at me. I grin hearing Peter laugh and quickly swim towards the bow, where Lucy is giggling next to Trumpkin, having seen the whole thing. She watches me with laughter and wonder in her eyes.

"What can I do for you, your majesty?" I ask, floating alongside the boat on my back, my long hair a rippling, scarlet curtain in the current.

Her smile grows. "You can call me Lucy if you'd like," she says cheerfully, folding her arms over the lip of the boat. "I was wondering," she begins animatedly, "if I might ask a few questions."

"Of course," I laugh. "Go right ahead."

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The sun is low in the sky by the time we disembark from our boat ride up the Great River. Lucy succeeded in keeping me busy up until Peter declared we make for shore, inquiring about a whole load of different things from my favourite colour to the reasoning behind the Telmarines' hatred for the Narnians. The young queen is such a delight I almost don't realize how much I miss Edmund's company.

It frightens me: not how strongly I feel when I'm around a person I only just met, but how I don't feel at all that it's strange when I know I should. Something about Edmund Pevensie feels right—like half of me has known him my whole life and the other half has been waiting to.

Peter carefully runs the rowboat aground on the pale-pebbled shore of the river. When the wooden vessel comes to a stop, everyone jumps out, Lucy and Trumpkin being the first. The dwarf takes the anchor further up the shore and digs it firmly into the ground, stamping it down with his boot.

Still in my mermaid form, I remain in the water to push from the stern and help the Pevensies drag the boat further out of the water. Despite it being quite small and made of wood, it's surprisingly heavy. With me pushing and the three eldest siblings pulling, we manage to move the boat far enough to ensure it's not swept away in the river's current.

Although I'm not very excited by the prospect of trekking through the woods, I trade my tail for a pair of legs and trudge out of the river. My dress is heavy with water and though the pebbles aren't sharp beneath my feet, I toughen my soles and make a point to tread carefully.

The Pevensies are busying themselves retrieving their supplies from the rowboat, handing out each others' respective weapons and belongings.

Edmund pulls out a shield and a leather bag with a long strap attached to it. When he hears me approaching, he looks up with a smile and reaches back in.

"This is yours," he says, extracting the sword and attached belt he lent me. "I'm still waiting for that match, you know."

I smirk and take the sheathed weapon from his grasp. "So eager to get your ass kicked," I tease.

"I don't know, Arryn," Peter says from the rowboat's other side. "He was the best swordsman in Narnia when we left."

Susan glances from her older brother to me and nods. "He's right."

I don't have to look at Edmund again to know he has a terribly smug smile on his face. What they all seem to be forgetting is that was over thirteen hundred years ago.

I don't get the chance to point that out, as the uncharacteristic alarm in Trumpkin's voice instantly draws everyone's attention elsewhere.

Further up the shore, a massive bear is barreling toward Lucy.

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author's note

do you guys think arryn could best edmund in a swordfight? In a normal, unenhanced human form.

also, i absolutely love the way arryn describes her relationship/connection to ed, it's honestly perfect. and if you guys don't see it yet, you will eventually. there is more to these two than a wee little crush. also in love with ed's response to the question about what he'd like to turn into if he could. lmao i laugh every time.

thank you for the reviews, you guys are awesome! hope you're all enjoying the story!