A/N: So, the original plan was to update, oh, every other week. That obviously did not happen this time. This chapter did NOT want to be written. XP
As always, thank you all bunches for the lovely reviews, faves, and follows! ^.^
(I wanted a happier ending for this chapter, but don't think for a moment that anything is over yet. This thing is going to end up with, like, 20 chapters minimum, sooo...)

Chapter Notes: This is more or less written in a chronological timeline, but it's weird writing in two different time zones, lol. The first two scenes take place on Saturday, Aug. 31. The last one is Sunday Sept. 1. I won't usually write chapters like this. Edmund, because he's in a different time zone from the other three, will mostly have chapters to himself in the future, but it's actually important to have this chapter written like this for later, lol.

Religious Notes: First chapter I said that religious themes would be non-denominational, and I meant it. However, a character in this chapter is introduced as explicitly Catholic. It's important for the progression of the story, but I will not place any certain denomination on the Pevensies. (To put this choice in prospective, I am not Catholic myself. And the school Edmund's school is based on is Episcopalian. So there you go. lol)

School Notes: I feel I should note stuff about Edmund's school. It's not terribly important (hence why it's not in the text itself), so you can skip this unless you are actually interested. I based his dorm partly on my own experience in college, partly on the actual set up of the dorm of one of the schools his is based on. You can picture the dorm any way you'd like, but think of it as less of a dorm and more of a giant house. I picture it as a bi-level (you go in the front door and right away there are stairs going up/down), with the kitchen and living room in the middle of the building on the upper level, and a rec room on the lower level. Student rooms are on one side, faculty apartments are on the other. (And by 'apartments' I mean full-on, multiple-room apartments.)

Anon Reviews:
All4Aslan: Thank you, love. /hugs/ I, too, would love to Peter as a big brother, lol. Hope you enjoy this chapter, too! ^.^
chickencomes1st: You aren't being paranoid, mwahahahahaha! *ahem* No Lucy this chapter, I'm afraid, but you'll see lots of her next chapter. :)

Chapter Four

Edmund flopped spread eagle on his bed, relishing in the silence. This was the first moment of peace he'd truly had since watching the sunrise in England with his sister; this was the first moment in five days he'd had to himself. As soon as he'd arrived on the docks, his old headmaster had passed him off to a friend whose family was also boarding. He had spent the entire trip across the Atlantic with them. When he had arrived in Boston, he'd been passed off to yet another friend who proceeded to take the train all the way to Concord with him. Upon arriving at the station, he had been passed off to the headmaster of his new school who hustled him into a waiting car to take them to their destination yet another hour away.

While he had known arrangements had been made, he had also thought he'd be mostly left to his own devices. 'You're a minor,' had been the answer when he'd inquired, 'can't have a minor traveling alone like that. It wouldn't be fitting.' Oh. Yes, he supposed that was true, wasn't it? All the same, he would have preferred it. At least then he wouldn't have felt smothered with unwanted but obligatory attention from strangers.

But, as he glanced around the room he would be calling his for the coming months, he almost wished for that exhausting small talk again. At least when he was forced to make conversation he wasn't thinking about home and how much he already missed it.

Edmund groaned quietly when a knock sounded on the door. He knew the peace and quiet wouldn't last forever, but he had certainly been hoping for slightly more than five minutes. Raising his head off the mattress to at least half-properly greet the intruder, he said, "Come in."

A head of curly blond hair poked around the door followed by the bespectacled face and tall, wiry frame of a man he had only noticed briefly upon first entering the dorm not ten minutes ago. He didn't know the man's name yet, but, from what he'd been told, Edmund could assume he was a teacher here and lived in one of the apartments adjacent to the dorm. He sat up the rest of the way.

"I don't want to disturb you," he started, his American accent a further reminder of just how far from home Edmund was, "but I thought I'd come introduce myself. My name is Marvin Wallace. I teach history and politics here at the school. I'm also the head of this dorm, as well as your advisor, so if you need anything, please don't hesitate to come find me. I'm in the first apartment." He gave a short sigh. "Now that that's out of the way, I'll let you get settled. I'll start dinner around five o'clock. If you'd like to help, you're more than welcome; if not, I'll come bang on your door again when it's ready. Alright?"

"Thank you," he responded quietly. "I might come help, but, between you and me, my sisters have tried to teach me to cook, but I'm not much good at it."

Mr. Wallace looked thoughtful for a moment before replying with a smile, "You know something? I'm not much good at it either, I'd reckon." He shrugged. "Oh, well."

Edmund couldn't help but smile back. "Well, I guess I can't make things any worse, then, can I?"

"No, not likely. Anyway," he said, turning back towards the door, "I'll leave you to your unpacking."

As the door clicked shut again, Edmund fell back on the bed with a sigh. Unpacking? He felt more like napping, if he were honest. He lay staring blankly at the ceiling for a moment before rolling to his feet. As much as he wanted to sleep, unpacking needed to come first. Once everything was out and organized, maybe he would feel a little more at home and be able to relax better.

First things, first, he thought, undoing the clasp on his satchel and pulling out a photograph of him and his siblings. It had been taken recently - only a few months before - and had replaced the previous photo of the four of them that had occupied the worn wooden frame. As he folded out the desk stand, an envelope dropped down onto the desk. Setting the frame upright on the shelf above the desk, he abandoned the task of unpacking in favor of discovering the contents of the envelope.

It wasn't properly sealed - the flap was only folded in - and he wasted no time opening it and pulling out the folded paper. He instantly recognized the hand writing as Lucy's and sat back down on the bed to read.

My dearest brother,

I hope this letter finds you well and settling in alright at your new school. It's strange to write that statement since, at this moment, you're dead asleep in the next room, but all the same, I hope everything is going well when you finally see this. I cannot sleep for being compelled to write to you, strange as it seems, but I feel it must be Aslan's doing, so here is what I believe I must tell you:

Never forget who you are and, even more so, Whose you are.

You are the Just King. Do right by all, and you're path will remain straight and clear. Justice and mercy go hand in hand. Be fair. Do not be harsh. Walk in the manner worthy of a King of Narnia.

You are Aslan's. You were bought with a price. You are loved. Be confident. Do no doubt yourself. You have nothing to prove to anyone. Walk in the manner worthy of a child of the True King.

You are not alone, Edmund. You never are. Aslan said He would be with us in the world as well, and I still believe that He is - even though we haven't seen Him yet.

Stay strong, my brother. Do not lose faith. Do not be afraid of what lies ahead. He is with us. Always.

Your loving sister,

Lucy

P.S. Don't be afraid to talk to people and reach out to those around you. Everyone is brought into our lives for a reason, to change us or to teach us. Don't miss out on the opportunities before you.

Edmund smiled as he folded the paper back up and returned it to the envelope. Typical Lucy, knowing exactly what he needed to hear well before he needed to hear it.

He stood back up, placed the letter in the top drawer of the desk, and continued to unpack the remainder of this belongings. When he had arranged everything to his liking, he glanced at the clock on his desk: five minutes after five o'clock. He still wanted nothing more than a nap, but, with both of his sister's words in mind, he found himself reaching for the door instead. Padding quietly down the hall, he found Mr. Wallace in the kitchen, his back turned.

Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat.

Mr. Wallace turned with a smile. "Decided to come help after all?"

Edmund gave a hesitant smile in return. "I figured it couldn't hurt."

"Grab a knife. You can help me chop up these vegetables."

Moving further into the kitchen area, he did just that, setting to work on a second cutting board.

"So," Mr. Wallace started, "you're from the London area, right?"

Peter sighed as he reached for the door knob of room 315. Time to find out if leaving his room assignment to chance had actually been a good idea or not. He'd had good luck the previous year, and he hoped it would be the same this time. But he hadn't had the chance to meet him yet; he'd barely arrived with enough time to check in and leave his things in the room before sprinting off again for orientation. Now that it was after dinner and he was finally getting back to the room, he hoped he'd finally get to the meet the man.

Pushing open the door, he wasn't surprised to see the far side of the room already occupied, though the occupant himself was still nowhere to be seen. As he moved his hastily abandoned luggage from the floor by the door to the bed, he glanced over the room, trying to learn what he could about his roommate from what he could observe.

There wasn't much to see, but if the framed image of the Virgin Mary sitting beside a string of Rosary beads on the desk was anything to go by, the man was obviously Catholic. He frowned. That could make this year interesting to say the least.

Shaking his head, he set about unpacking. He made short work of the task, and, as he came to the bottom of his last bag, he found an envelope. He took it out and sat on his bed to read the enclosed letter, grinning from ear to ear.

To High King Peter the Magnificent, Lord of Cair Paravel, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Sir Wolfsbane of the Most Noble Order of the Lion

Greetings!

I pray all is well with you, my brother, and that your travels have been blessed by Aslan. May your journey be fruitful, and may Aslan guide your every step. Never lose sight of your purpose. Return to us speedily and in victory.

Your loving sister,

Queen Lucy the Valiant, Lady of the Most Noble Order of the Crown

Underneath the text was the sketch of a Lion with what appeared to be the ocean behind it. She had done this last year as well - but with a different drawing; it had been the lamppost in Lantern Waste last year -but he couldn't say that he minded. As pretentious as all of his titles had seemed at one time, he was glad to see them scrawled in his youngest sibling's hand once again.

"What you've got mail already? Lucky bloke."

Peter started, his gaze flying toward the door. Sure enough, he'd been engrossed enough that he'd failed to hear the door open. He chuckled, an easy smile returning. "From my youngest sister," he supplied. "She did this last year, too - snuck it into the bottom of one of my bags when I wasn't looking - as if I'm several days' journey aways instead of little more than an hour." He paused, returning the letter to the envelope. "I'm Peter Pevensie."

"Charles Fenn."

Peter stood, closed the short distance between them, and shook the proffered hand. "I hope we'll get along well this year."

Charles smiled in return. "I'm sure we will."

"So, where are you from?" Peter asked.

"Cardiff. I'm afraid I can't talk now, though," Charles stated as he moved across the room. "I need to get ready to leave for Mass."

"I see. We'll talk later then."

"I take it you either aren't Catholic or stick to tradition, huh?"

Peter shifted uncomfortably. "I guess you could say that."

Charles smiled. "Hey, I've got nothing against it either way, you know. Where do you attend?"

"Well," Peter started, scratching the back of his neck and looking away. "I… I don't really… attend anywhere. Not on a regular basis, at least. I still go with my family when I'm home though." He could see his roommate staring at him with an unreadable expression out of the corner of his eye.

"I see," Charles finally said, his voice as emotionless as his face was unreadable. "To each their own, I guess." He glanced at the clock. "I have to go. I'll see you later."

Peter sighed in relief as the door clicked shut again behind his roommate. What have I gotten myself into? he wondered.

Edmund heaved a sigh, staring up at the sky from between the leaves of the tree he was sitting under. Susan was going to kill him for this, but he couldn't help it. Students had begun to arrive an hour before, and, though he knew he shouldn't have, he had bolted. When his third dormmate had entered the building, he'd made a bee-line for the back door. Outside, down the steps of the deck, and about fifty feet away to a giant oak tree behind the house.

What was he even doing here? He couldn't do this. He wasn't good at meeting people.

He scoffed at himself for the thought. In Narnia, he'd been a master diplomat, but somehow those skills hadn't made the trip back to England with him. He'd had no problem meeting with foreign dignitaries and traveling to other lands to make treaties. But now he couldn't even seem to say 'hello' to the people living under the same roof. Just like everything else, he had known he'd have to reacquire those skills as he grew up for the second time, but he didn't remember it being so difficult before.

"There you are."

Edmund jerked his head around, heart racing. "Mr. Wallace. You startled me."

"Sorry." He smiled. "We're just waiting on one more student to arrive. You should come back inside."

Edmund swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. Oh, great. First, he'd run away. Now, everyone was going to watch him walk back in from where he'd been hiding.

"Don't worry," Mr. Wallace added, seeming to know exactly what Edmund was thinking, "most of your dormmates are still unpacking in their rooms."

Sighing in relief, Edmund stood up, dusting off the seat of his britches. "Thank you. It would have been awkward to walk in with everyone watching."

"You seem a little… hesitant when it comes to meeting people," Mr. Wallace commented as they started back for the steps, concern mostly masked by his smile. "So I figured it might be appreciated to find you before your absence could bring unwanted attention."

Edmund followed in silence. For a moment, he wondered when he'd become so easy for strangers to read, but he had fled so, really, there wasn't much mystery to it. Sliding the door closed behind him, he headed for the sitting area. The only other people there so far were the other three teachers living in the adjacent apartments and two students that looked as apprehensive as he felt. He offered a hesitant smile to the two boys but, in the end, opted to sit in one of the overstuffed armchairs across the room.

It didn't take long for the other boys to start trailing in, loud conversations and boisterous laughter following them from the bedrooms out to the main area of the house. As everyone filed in and found somewhere to sit, Edmund noticed Mr. Wallace bring up the rear and realized he must have been going around shooing everyone out. Edmund glanced over the students gathered; nineteen in total, himself included.

"Alright, quiet down. Quiet down, please."

Edmund could honestly say he was impressed. He'd never seen a room fall silent so quickly.

"I know everyone is excited to be back," Mr. Wallace started, "so I won't keep you long. I'm not going to go over every rule, like some of the dorm heads do. You all have a handbook, and you're all expected to read it. Besides that, returning students should already know the rules, so it would only be a waste of time. However, we do have four new students with us this year, and a few things have changed, so I am going to go over a few things briefly.

"First up, curfew has been changed slightly for forms one and two. Returning students especially, please take note of that. Along that same line, room checks with be conducted on Tuesdays and Fridays this year, instead of Mondays and Thursdays. I will be lenient the first week or two, but please try to remember to get your jobs done.

"Second, advisor groups. If you don't know who your advisor is, come talk to me as soon as we dismiss. Meals are still on Tuesday nights. Know when your group is up. Don't forget. Don't be late. All meals and meetings are posted in blue ink on the calendar at the beginning of each month.

"Third and final, dorm activities." A brief burst of whoops and cheers interrupted before he could continue. "An obvious favorite. All activities will be posted on the calendar; red ink means it's mandatory, black ink means it's voluntary. Among those activities, are the traditional Halloween and Christmas decorating contests, where we compete against the other dorms. We try to do things you'll all enjoy, and if you have an idea for something you'd like to do, let me know, and I will see what I can do to arrange it."

He paused for a moment, then, with slightly devilish grin, he stated, "And now, for my favorite part of this meeting: the new students get to introduce themselves."

Edmund froze. No. He had no been told he would have to do this. No.

"Tell us your name, where you're from, your year in school, something about your family, and something about yourself."

Edmund scarcely registered the responses of the other three, only enough to learn their names that two of them were in form one and the other was in form two. He was only new, upper-form student. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, and dredged up his resolve. You were a diplomat once; if you could stand and stare the Tisroc in the eye, then you can spend twenty seconds introducing yourself.

Mr. Wallace caught his gaze, and he knew it was his turn. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. "I'm Edmund Pevensie. I'm from Finchley, England, just north of London. I'm in the fourth form. I have an older brother, an older sister, and a younger sister. And, uhm…" He faltered. What was something interesting about himself? He wasn't sure there was anything interesting he could say. "And, uhm… I like to play chess, I guess?" he finished, awkwardly rubbing the nape of his neck.

"See? I'm not the only one!"

Edmund's head whipped around to find the indignant voice. A dark haired boy, possibly a year younger than himself, had his arms crossed and was glaring comedically at the boy next to him who was trying not to laugh.

Mr. Wallace, chuckling a bit himself, clapped his hands once to gain everyone's attention again, and announced, "Alright, that's all I've got for you. Get out of here."

Most of the students rose from their seats and headed back to their rooms to finish unpacking, though a few stayed behind, talking. One student with a muscular build - Edmund guessed him to be at least one form above himself - ambled over and perched himself on the arm of the couch that sat next to the chair he had claimed.

"So. I finally get to meet my roommate then. I'm Thomas Rourck."

Edmund caught himself before he gave his name again, and instead offered his hand to shake. "A pleasure."

"I was kind of surprised when Mr. Wallace came and told me I got the foreign exchange student as my roommate. You came a long way. How far is it from London?"

"Well, I came by boat, so it took about five days. I spent a lot of time on trains and in cars, too. It was definitely a long trip." He sighed. "I just hope it'll be worth it."

"It will be," Thomas stated confidently. "Trust me. Once classes get started, you'll see for yourself. St. John's isn't like any other school."

Neither boy quite knew what to say after that, and an awkward silence came between the two. Edmund was about to excuse himself for any reason he could think of - to the toilet or maybe he could come up with some question to ask Mr. Wallace - when Thomas spoke first.

"So, if you were from near London, were you evacuated when the bombing started, or were you far enough away?"

An interesting topic, but since the war was scarcely a year over, Edmund supposed it wasn't a bad place to try to find common ground of some kind. Or, at the very least, it was better than silence. He nodded once. "We were evacuated. We ended up in Coombe Halt. I don't think we could have ended up more in the middle of nowhere than that."

"I can't even imagine that. Six years ago you would have been, what? Ten?"

"Yeah, just barely. It was hard, but at least we had each other - not like our mum who was alone then."

Thomas hesitated. "Where was your dad?"

"Drafted. Right after the start of the war." He smiled sadly. "We were lucky, though. He came back in the beginning of '42. Not everyone was so fortunate."

"He came home before the war ended?"

It was Edmund's turn to hesitate. His father hadn't talked much about the war, especially not about his last mission. Edmund had asked about it once, but his father only shook his head and told him they'd all been through enough without having to know the details. "He doesn't talk about it much," he finally sighed, "but he was injured when his plane was shot down, and he was honorably discharged after because of his injuries. He still has a bit of a limp from it."

"Wait, your dad was a pilot?" Thomas grinned. "My dad was too."

Recognition dawned on Edmund's face. So that's why he was asking about the war, he thought. It's definitely common ground.

"Not at first, though," Thomas continued. "He was in Hawaii on business - was supposed to be there for just six months, but ended up being there for almost seven. Because he was delayed in getting back, he was there when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. So when President Roosevelt declared war, he left his company in his partner's hands and enlisted."

"I'm sure that was hard for you, too, then."

"It was, but I was really proud, too, you know?"

Edmund smiled. "Yeah, I do know." He paused, his smile slipping slightly. "Your dad, did he…" Did he make it home? Edmund couldn't quite bring himself to finish his question.

Thomas's smiled faltered. "No. He didn't come home," he answered anyway.

Edmund felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach. "I am so sorry," he murmured, feeling fifteen years of battles in Narnia wash over him anew. Fifteen years of telling families, I'm sorry, they aren't coming home. His own father was alive and well, but Edmund still knew the pain.

"It's all right," Thomas responded quietly. "He died fighting for what he knew was right. I'll admit, I hope I turn out even half as good of a man as he was. I'm proud of him, and I hope I can make him just as proud of me."

"I'm sure you will." Edmund paused, before diverting the topic to something far less depressing. "So, what happened to your dad's company, then?"

"His partner technically owns the whole thing now, but he and my dad were really close friends so he's already told me that half the company is mind when I come of age, if I want it. That's what I'm planning to do when I'm done with school. What about you? What are your plans?"

Edmund sat back, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "I'm not sure yet, but I was thinking about Law."

As the conversation carried on, Edmund couldn't help but wonder what he'd been so afraid over. He was going to have to write to Susan soon to tell her. To tell her, don't worry, sis; I'm going to be just fine.