Chapter Six

Peter sat staring out the window for what felt like, and quite possibly was, the thousandth time. He hadn't bothered to go to class, opting to spend the time wallowing in his misery instead. His siblings were in Narnia. He was stuck in England. Caspian was in Narnia. He was stuck in England. His siblings were in Narnia with Caspian. He was stuck in England. The unfairness of it all made him want to scream, cry and throw things all at once. As it happens, throughout the day he did quite a bit of all three.

Judging by the lighting outside, it was close to eight and he knew his dorm mates would be back soon. Not wanting to have to answer questions, Peter gathered up his Chemistry books with the intention of getting some homework done in the library. Opening his bag, Peter placed the textbooks inside, and his eyes fell upon a very different sort of book. At the sight of the magic book, Peter lost it again. Magic. Edmund and Lucy were off in their land of magic and adventure and all the book did was remind him of that fact. He grabbed the book and hurled it against the wall where it fell open pages down on the floor.

After a few minutes Peter heard footsteps on the stairs and hurried to pick up his mess. As he picked up the book, his eyes fell on the page and noticed words written almost exactly in the centre. His heart leapt as he read the note from Edmund. They could communicate across worlds. Quick as lighting, Peter found his pen and wrote back 'Yes yes it works! Are you sitting by the book now? How is Narnia? Do write back!'

--

Edmund plopped down on his bed exhausted from his hours of sword fighting with a very skilled opponent. As one of his attendants drew a bath for him, he took off his armour and tunic hung them up on a hanger. Climbing into his pyjamas, the sight of his book bag on the next hanger over reminded him of the book and he quickly withdrew it. Flinging it open, Edmund found Peter's note written on the page. He could have danced.

'Pete! Peter, you reading the book? You there?'

Peter, who hadn't let his eyes wander from the book for nearly two hours, wrote back instantaneously. 'I am here. Bloody hell, these books actually work all the way between here! Are you in Narnia? Is Caspian in Narnia? Are you there with him now? How long has it been? Is-'

'Yeah, I'm in Narnia. It has been the exact same amount of time here as it has there. Can you hang on just a minute?'

'Ed! No answer all of my questions! I asked if you were there with-' Once again Edmund cut him off, this time with 'Just give me three minutes, maybe five. I promise.'

Without waiting to read Peter's reply Edmund jumped off his bed, careful not to shut the book all the way. He ran down the hall in pyjamas, flew up a flight of steps, narrowly avoided a conversation with a rather boring old tortoise, ran down a few more halls and, eventually, skidded to a halt in front of a dark mahogany door. Forgetting to knock, Edmund barged right into the room, accidentally knocking a vase over with the door in his haste.

He ran over to the bed and Caspian, already half-awake due to the sound of his favourite vase smashing to the floor, had his hand on the hilt of the sword he kept hidden by the nightstand.

"Who enters? Name yourself!"

"Edmund." Edmund gasped, trying to catch his breath.

Upon identifying his late-night intruder, Caspian quickly withdrew his hand from his sword and shot Edmund a confused and slightly irritated look. Edmund was far too excited to care.

Lighting a lamp, Edmund wasted no time in shoving the book under Caspian's nose. He was still confused, but far less irritated.

"Edmund, what is this?"

"It's a book...found it...magic...communicates...Peter has other..." As incoherent as he was being, Edmund still managed to get his point across. Eyes widening in realization, Caspian quickly grabbed the book out of Edmund's hands and started flipping through it, but, obviously, found only the small block of text from the brothers' conversation from a few minutes previous. Reaching into his nightstand, Caspian withdrew a quill and inkwell and hurried to unscrew the top.

"They won't work." Edmund stated in a much less frantic, yet still excited fashion, "Only one pen works, but it'll most likely make your hand feel as if it has been burned upon contact." Caspian frowned slightly as Edmund showed him the fountain pen for he had never seen anything like it, having only ever used a quill and ink well. Ignoring Edmund's cautionary words, he reached out to grab the pen and, of course, recoiled at the touch.

Edmund took the book back from Caspian and put it on the bed where he could write and Caspian could read any replies.

'I'm back. And guess who is with me?'

'Really? Ed are you pulling my leg? If you are it is not funny. Is he really there? Is he okay? Can he write me?'

'Yes, reading every word. Can't write though, pen burns his hand'

Because the words didn't appear on the page as they were being written, Caspian had no idea what Edmund had hastily scribbled, but he was far too focused on what Peter would write back to ask.

'Oh, that's mighty inconvenient'

You don't say muttered Edmund, who had just realized that he would have to transcribe all of Caspian's letters and notes to Peter, but he didn't feel the need to write it down. Instead he wrote 'Well he is reading now, so do you want to talk to him instead of me?'

'Of course, can you hand him the book?'

'Okay. I will talk to you later.'

Edmund handed Caspian the book after closing it to erase the most recent conversation, lit another lamp and took it over to an armchair at the opposite end of the room.

--

Back in England, Peter sat huddled in an empty corner of their dormitory's living room, book open on his lap, pen hovering above the blank page. He had spent the past six weeks longing for the opportunity to speak with Caspian. Now that the chance was upon him, all of his rehearsed speeches fled his brain, leaving him with a full pen and empty brain. Realizing that he would have to write something otherwise Caspian would think the book to be broken, Peter put the pen to the parchment. With no idea what he was going to say, Peter began writing.

'Hello, Caspian. There are so many things I would like to say, but I don't know how to say any of them.' Peter's hand was shaking, causing the letters to come out in less than perfect handwriting, but the words were legible nonetheless. 'Words themselves cannot possibly describe how painful this month away from you has been. I wish you could write back. I wish I were there. How have you been? I know there must be something wrong with Narnia, I'm so sorry you have to deal with whatever it is. Fuck, Caspian I miss you so much. I don't know how I am supposed to go the rest of my life without having you hold me.' Peter shook his head at himself, willing that last sentence to stop sounding so feminine. 'Sorry for blabbering on and on, but I don't really know how to say anything. I'm so happy I can finally talk to you. I think I should stop writing before I make a complete idiot of myself. I love you and I miss you.

Peter.

Peter leant his head against the wall, he was unable to read what he had written so, he had no idea how he had come off sounding. He knew he hadn't sounded as eloquent as he would have liked, but it didn't really matter. He could talk to Caspian. Caspian could talk to him. He was no longer completely cut off from his love.

--

Caspian read Peter's letter through three times before calling Edmund over. As Edmund approached Caspian's side, he saw the tears of both pain and happiness that Caspian hadn't bothered to brush away. Placing a hand comfortingly on the reigning monarch's arm, he took the book and prepared himself to write a response.

"Uh Caspian I can't really write anything if you don't tell me what to write." Edmund's voice jolted Caspian out of his own thoughts and back into reality. He hadn't noticed that he had been daydreaming.

"Can you write 'hello'?"

"I think I could manage it, just say words and I will write them down. "

Pausing occasionally for Edmund to catch up, he began. Caspian decided it would be best to speak to the wall, feeling it would be too awkward to look at his love's younger brother as he spoke.

"Hello Peter. I miss you so much. Every day I miss you. I wish you could be here. Apparently the Telamrines are still unhappy so your siblings are here to help me figure out what to do. Don't worry about me though, I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about. Edmund told me you haven't been eating or sleeping." Edmund felt a little strange writing about himself, but continued to take down what Caspian said. "You need to rest, love. I know that's hypocritical, but it is true nonetheless. I hate the thought of never being able to hold you again, too. I still can't believe that you are gone for always. Always is a really long time, Peter. At least we can write each other.

I love you,

Caspian X"

The night was spent passing words of sorrow, joy, comfort and laughter. When at last the sky began to lighten and the birds began their song, it was time to put the books away and get ready for the day, both in Narnia and in England. Neither Peter nor Caspian wanted to say goodbye, but Peter had school and Caspian had a kingdom to run. Of course they could continue sending messages during the day, but not as steadily as they had been able to during the night.

Edmund shook his cramped hand as he closed the book. Sliding the pen back into the gap in the spine, smiling at Caspian.

"I wish I didn't have to dictate everything to you." Caspian said.

"You aren't the only one. I get the chance to come back to Narnia and find myself playing the role of your personal scribe and messenger."

Seeing Caspian's face fall, Edmund quickly assured him that he had been joking and that he was happy to aid them in their correspondence. He really didn't mind either. He wasn't particularly fond the idea, but thinking about how happy it was making his brother and Caspian, he knew he didn't mind.

Well there is chapter six. To be honest I really hate the second half, but after hours of rewriting, it doesn't seem to get better so I figured I ought to just ship it out and cut my losses. My problem was that I had originally planned to write this more Edmund centric, but judging by people's reviews there is a lot of demand for a more Peter centric story. I can write it either way, it doesn't matter to me. Would people rather I keep writing scenes focusing on Peter, or should I drop them?