Kiss and Tell

I woke up to Peter once again taking his life in his hands by vigorously shaking me awake. I lifted my head with a savage hiss, but Peter just smiled at me and ignored the warning signals, smacking me in the head with a pillow and saying something about training. Training? Was he quite mad? Or was this revenge for all the crow jokes I'd made last night?

"Come on, Ed!" begged Peter, tugging at the blankets. "I've been dying to get down there again!"

And what was so wrong with sleep? I snorted, clinging to the covers. "I nearly did die down there. Peter, Oreius hid my armor and Shafelm so I couldn't try anything stupid like this until he said so."

"What?" Peter smiled with delight at the notion. I supposed he felt he didn't need permission to do stupid things. He jumped on the bed and landed partially on me. "Why?"

"Wait! Wait!" I held up a hand and he stilled. "You just traveled for months on end to places unknown for . . . what was the reason you went on that quest?"

He laughed. It was like music to my ears even though I dropped back down into the covers with a dramatic groan. "Come on! Take my old armor! It'll fit you!"

"Fine!" I growled to shut him up, clambering out of bed. I whipped the nearest pillow at him before getting dressed in many layers and my heaviest cape. We snuck through the corridors as usual, bidding the guards good morn. They grinned to see us back to our regular routine. It was freezing cold outside and by the time we reached the armory I was shivering and hating every moment of this scheme. Inside surrounded by stone and metal wasn't much warmer and I watched my breath curing white before me with growing apprehension. Peter was so thin I doubted he'd be able to stand more than five minutes in full armor and I wasn't in much better condition. Still, it would be fun to watch.

We were trying to locate Peter's old suit of mail in the storage chests lining the walls of the main room when the door opened and we heard slow hoof beats approaching. That could mean only one thing. I looked at Peter with a sigh, knowing we were sunk. He just smiled back, not having the sense to feel guilty or realize this was one of those battles that couldn't be won. Not at our present ages, anyway. We might have a slim chance in ten years or so.

A moment later the general of our army stepped into the room, his torso dressed warmly, a long cape covering his flanks. I had the feeling our antics had roused him. He must have given orders to be alerted if Peter . . . all right, if we tried anything like this. The fact that he anticipated it at all spoke volumes about how well he knew the pair of us. Oreius frowned, knowing full well what we were about, but nonetheless asking, "What are you knights doing down here at this hour?"

Seeing as how it was Peter's idea, I let him field the question.

"Well, we . . . were going to train," said Peter, though it sounded to me a lot more like a question than a statement of fact. I decided it was worth getting up and risking pneumonia to see this moment.

"Really? I think not," said the Centaur as he moved into the chamber, filling it with his sheer size and presence. Folding his arms, he leaned over and looked me sternly in the eye and I knew how a mouse felt before a snake. "You'll resume training when I say so, Sir Edmund of the How, and even so not one moment before you gain fifteen pounds."

"What?" I howled, and Peter barked a laugh and clapped a guilty hand over his mouth. Oreius swept his gaze over at my brother.

"Don't laugh, Sir Peter Wolfsbane. You have to gain twenty."

Peter's jaw dropped in stunned astonishment and it was my turn to laugh. I tried to stifle the sound with indifferent success.

"I suggest you two get to work."

"But . . ."

He walked out without another word, leaving us staring after him. We looked at each other and as if on cue we both burst into laughter.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

We met the girls for breakfast and set about following Oreius' orders with good appetite. The palace chefs happily outdid themselves now that they had two bottomless pits to feed again. It would be days before Peter and I were up to doing anything as far as our lessons were concerned and the girls happily delayed their own classes to linger over breakfast.

Peter broke the news that Aslan had departed and taken the White Witch's wand far away. Lucy pouted a moment or two until Susan reminded her Aslan had stayed with us for more than four months and he had duties beyond Narnia. I was sorry he had left but glad that I'd spoken to him last night and that Peter had gotten a chance to talk with him alone. Besides, we always had Lion Chapel. That was Lucy's to tell Peter about, but I had a surprise of my own for him.

"Peter! I have something to show you." I smiled at the puzzled looks cast my way and I couldn't help keep the smugness out of my voice as I said, "I wrote a decree."

My sisters beamed and Peter exclaimed, "Did you? Smashing, Ed! Smashing! How?" he wondered, thoroughly impressed.

"It was a lot of work, but I think you'll agree it was worth it. Martil? Could you please ask Minovin for the official copy of the Codex? She should have it handy."

While we waited, I explained the research and writing involved. Peter listened with interest, sorry that he had missed Parliament. Minutes later Martil returned with the scroll in question and I handed it off to Peter, saying,

"I was faced by some petty noble's ambassador asking for Susan's hand. Chap didn't even have the decency to show up himself to ask and . . . well, I got annoyed. This will help remedy any repetitions." I gestured grandly at my work. "The Codex Consors, brother."

Peter listened with growing delight, then unrolled the scroll and started reading. I watched his expression closely. His eyes grew as huge as his smile and he almost cheered toward the end.

"Brilliant!" he cried, looking up. "Edmund, this is pure genius!"

"Rumor has it," I said softly in reply, extremely pleased by his reaction.

He rose and paced the room, reading it again. A small whoop escaped him and Susan started laughing out loud. When he came back to me he set the parchment down, seized my face in both hands and kissed me. I let out a yelp that turned into a whine of disgust.

"Peee-ter!"

Lucy cheered and clapped her hands as I tried (not very hard) to twist away and escape. He swiftly kissed me again and finally released me. I rubbed at my mouth and face with my sleeve and cast a wide variety of dirty looks at Peter. Better equipped than I was to get away with such conduct, he completely ignored me and the noises I was making as he called out,

"Martil, please fetch my seal!"

"Peter, you don't have to ratify it," Susan protested as my valet darted out again. "It's already approved and enacted."

"I don't care," he said happily. He tapped the thick parchment. "I want my seal on this decree."

Lucy giggled at his insistence and I found myself laughing as well, watching with pleasure as Peter melted a mound of red wax onto the bottom of the decree next to three more red seals, then happily smashed his large, golden seal onto it.

"Aslan," he said, laughing and looking to the east, "thank you for giving me an easily aggravated, clever, and wise brother to write such a masterpiece that truly will undo many a dream of grandeur." He read it again, clearly enjoying every word. "Oh, I wish I'd had a copy of this when that Terbinthian duchess-in-waiting came here! That's it!" He sat up straight. "As soon as we know what these visitors and ambassadors are about, we'll send them a copy of this and have some chamberlain read it aloud so there's no misunderstanding."

We all roared. Peter dropped back into his seat. "You know you're going to be hated for this, Ed."

"May as well be hanged for a wolf as a sheep," I replied. "I've made up my mind, Peter. I'm going to become a judge."

He sobered instantly, gazing at me with pride and approval. For a long moment he was silent, and then with deep emotion he said, "Good!"

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

After breakfast I returned the copy of the Codex Consors - now an even weightier document than before with Peter's seal upon it - to Minovin. Lucy walked with me as far as the library then hurried to her music lesson. I watched her skip down the hall, calling out gaily to guards and ladies and courtiers alike, and I was struck by the sheer bravery she possessed. Even at Beruna she had not flinched at the blood and gore and she had never once shied away from helping me all these months. She didn't see her service to me as duty to a king or her brother. It was simply the right thing to do and I realized I had learned a great deal from her since the anniversary party.

I returned the decree to the court recorder and she delighted at seeing Peter's seal on it. I left Minovin to gloat and I made my way back to the royal quarters. I was very surprised to hear Susan in our bedroom and I stopped as her voice reached my ears.

". . . nightmares grew worse and worse since before Stormfall. Aslan said Jadis' blood grew more powerful as he became weaker."

"Weaker?" wondered Peter.

"Oh, Peter, he hasn't been eating or sleeping and when he did it was no help. The cordial wasn't made to fight magical wounds. He's been in agony for months."

I bit my lip. I couldn't walk in there now. I didn't want to hear this, either. It had been my intent to tell Peter myself, but throughout this ordeal I hadn't been the only one suffering. Susan had been an absolute brick, just like Lucy, but she needed to talk and Peter was the only one she could turn to in this situation. That I could appreciate.

"Months?" Peter was horrified, more so than he should have been, or so it seemed. He let out a gasping sob and I heard him drop onto the bed. Why was he reacting so strongly?

"The first day of Twirleaf," he began haltingly. "I was . . . her name was Lasa. The Lake King's Daughter."

"She pulled you into the water," breathed Susan. "You almost drowned."

Surprise cut through his guilt. "What? How did you . . .?"

"Edmund dreamed it. We were at Kellsalter and he . . . he knew you were in danger."

His voice broke. "Susan, I was in that lake for almost a month. A month! I . . . it took me that long to remember the quest and Aslan and who I was and . . . and . . ."

Oh, Peter.

"Don't," said Susan. "Peter, don't blame yourself for what was done to you. This . . . Lasa captured you. Edmund won't blame you. Not for a moment. Don't feel guilty. Please. It's over. He's free. You're home. Oh, Peter . . ."

I closed my eyes against my own tears, pressing my fist to my mouth at the sound of his quiet sobs. I knew Susan would comfort him. I could hear her softly crooning to him as I silently withdrew. I retreated to my own unused bedroom, sitting on the floor with my back to the door, drawing my knees in close. Something Susan had said struck a chord deep inside me, and she brought more comfort than she knew.

. . . don't blame yourself for what was done to you.

It was simple wisdom, not a cure by any means but a lesson I could easily live with and apply. I folded my arms across my knees and rested my head, letting the tears fall. Jadis had said everything that had happened to me, everything she'd done, had been my fault from the start. I had believed her lies.

No more. What she had done - to Narnia, to Aslan, to me - was obscene.

. . . don't blame yourself for what was done to you.

Thank you, sister.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

We got absolutely nothing accomplished that day. When we attended to our royal duties there really wasn't any business on the schedule. Instead Narnians by the score found any excuse to crowd into the throne room while we were in council just to see and greet Peter and make certain I was still among the living. I suspected that unless a war broke out we could look forward to the same thing every day for the next month or so.

Afterwards we all followed Lucy down to Lion Chapel. Susan and I hung back and let Lucy show him the sanctuary. Peter reacted just as we had, with awe, and Lucy was so delighted she jumped and clapped. Peter slowly moved through the unfinished room, his eyes blazing with reverence as he spotted the tapestry of Aslan that Lucy and I had found. His voice was almost choked as he said,

"Lucy . . . this is perfect."

Peter looked down at his feet, at the beautiful silk rug from the Tisroc, then up at the golden, Dwarf-made lamp hanging from the vaulted ceiling. By the expression on his face I knew where he would be whenever I couldn't find him henceforth. The serenity of the place suited him.

Lucy hugged him firmly. "We're having tapestries made," she said, "and you'll have to pose for yours. Edmund's friend at the Blue River Smithy is making us a candelabrum to match the one we found in here. It's going to be so beautiful! And it's just for us, Peter, us and Aslan. No one else is allowed in without permission."

"I'm so glad, Lu," he replied softly, his smile never fading. He bent and kissed the top of her head. "I'm so glad."

He spoke for us all.