DISCLAIMER:**The character names of Chronicles of Narnia are owned by Douglas Gresham. The original content, ideas and intellectual property of this story are owned by NeverTickleASleepingDraco, 2011. Please do not copy, reproduce, or translate without express written permission.
(This chapter is in Edmund's POV)
I sighed and leaned my head against the wall. Balls were such boring affairs. I know, I know. It's a ball. You're expecting me to be dancing and laughing with some girl I don't even know. The only reason I attend and (occasionally) dance, is because my sister's force me. The parties did make me happy. Seeing all these people happy and forgetting all their problems, anger and possibly sorrow makes a person feel good. That person is me. And probably others. I took a sip and scoured the room for the one person I wanted to see.
Lady Cecelia intrigued me. It wasn't that she was blind, but that she wasn't ashamed of it. I could tell that she wished people would stop treating her like a helpless child. Hence, the little spat we had earlier. I looked around until I spotted her, practically pushed in by a woman a few years older than herself. I pushed myself off from the wall, and made my way toward her.
I tapped on her shoulder, and she spun around, looking for who got her attention. "Over here," I said pulling her head to face mine. Apparently recognizing my voice, she smiled. I smiled brightly again although she couldn't see it. I wished I could see her eyes...at least, fully and a bright green. Something told me they were beautiful.
Her dress had long trumpet sleeves and was pure white with red lacing across the bodice, wrapped around her waist, and in a streak down the side. Her hair was up in an elegant bun with curls ringing her face. She held a red fan in her hand, considering the hot night. I felt captivated by her yet he didn't know why. I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know everything.
"Hello, Your Majesty," said Lady Cecelia. She curtsied looking down. She came back up with her hands clasped in front.
"Milady," I replied coolly. I bowed and took her hand and kissed it. A rosy tint rose to her cheeks. My lips lingered on her hand a little longer than necessary. "Would you like a dance?"
"I would, Your Majesty, but..," she trailed off, not needing words. "Otherwise I-" She was interrupted by me pulling her up on my feet. So therefore, she would not need her feet. It resulted in us just swaying seeing as I couldn't exactly take large steps. Fortunately (or unfortunately), it was a slow song so swaying wasn't unusual. On the down side, I was scared of people making assumptions.
My thoughts strayed to some things I haven't thought of in a while. Like England and...Well, I forced my mind to think only of home.
I remembered when I was little, Dad would pick Peter and me up and make us airplanes. Dad had a certain fascination with them. Of course, that all ended with the war.
"I've got you, Pete!" Dad's booming voice said cheerfully, with a hint of a cockney accent. His eyes crinkled at the sides. Peter and I laughed before Dad grabbed Pete and me and put us both in headlocks. I was eleven and Peter was fourteen. Susan was thirteen and Lucy was nine.
"Alright boys, go get cleaned up supper. Mum'll be calling you in a bit." He shooed us off and as soon as we walked in, Mum started chewing us out.
"It's almost time for supper! You both are filthy! James, how could you let them do this? Off with you! Go get cleaned up and check on your sisters." Peter and I mumbled a, "Yes, Mum," simultaneously and walked off.
Considering it was just our arms and faces we just used a washcloth. "That was really fun, Pete!" I exclaimed loudly, my grin missing its two front teeth.
Peter ruffled my hair. "That was. We should do that more often."
"Yeah, when you're not busy with yourgirlfriend!" Peter glared and gave me a wet willie. "Yech!" We both grinned broadly and finished up our washing. I put the washcloths over the drying rack as Peter drained and cleaned the sink.
I raced out of the bathroom and into Susan and Lucy's room. Susan was French braiding Lu's hair and they looked at me expectantly. "Edmund, what have Pete and you been doing? You both came in filthy." Leave it to Susan (who is thirteen) to act like a mother.
"We were playing with Dad. What else?" I stated in a "duh" voice. Susan pursed her lips, rolled her eyes, and went on her merry way braiding Lu's hair. "Mum says supper's ready. Hurry up with your braiding." Susan quickly finished the braiding and tied it with bright red ribbon. Girls and their braiding. I never would get it.
I zoomed into the dining room as Mum was setting the table. The air smelled of roast chicken. My favorite! Lucy skipped into the room, followed by Susan; Peter was helping put food on the table. We all took our places around the table right as Dad walked in. He sat at the head of the table, and held out both his hands to me and Mum. "Ed, would you say the blessing?" I thanked God for the day and the food on our table, and then said our regular prayer. Dad passed the mashed potatoes to Mum and so on, and so on. Dad cleared his throat and announced to us, "I have some news. I was contacted today that I had been enlisted in the war." Gasps went around the table as Lucy immediately broke into tears. How could he leave us like this? We needed him! My surprise quickly turned into anger as I stood up in my chair.
"How could you leave us like that? We need you!" Tears streamed down my face as I stomped to my room. I flopped on my bed and buried my face in my pillow. Within minutes, my pillow was soaked. I heard the door squeak open. "Go away, Lu."
"It's not Lu." I looked up and saw Peter standing there with an angry look on his face. "How could you yell at Dad like that, Ed? He's doing his country a great service! We should be proud!"
I stood up. "Proud? Proud that there's a chance he's going to die? How could you be proud of that?"
We continued fighting like that all year.
"Edmund? King Edmund?" A soft, bell like voice ripped me from my memories. I snapped my attention to Lady Cecelia who appeared to be blushing. "You can let go of me now. The song had ended, and I still had her in my arms. Needless to say, it was awkward. I let go of her and bowed; she curtsied.
"Would you like to go out to the balcony?" I asked her. She nodded and held onto my arm. I maneuvered my way through the crowd and out onto the large balcony. The music wafted through the doors and into the cool night air. I breathed in the fresh air and leaned against the railing. Lady Cecelia walked over beside me and placed her elbows on the rail. "It's so beautiful out tonight." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished I hadn't said them. Stupid! She can't see it!"I'm sorry," I quickly added.
"It's alright. An honest mistake. I wish I could see the stars and constellations." She turned her head up toward the night sky and closed her eyes.
"I can help you with that." I grabbed her hand and lifted her index finger up. I found constellations and traced them; naming them too. I traced a pattern of a woman. "That is Amata. She's the maiden who was abandoned by her true love."
"That's not very pleasant," she said indignantly.
"Shh. I'm not done." I led her hand over to a figure to the right of the Lady. "This is Sir Luckless. Amata, Sir Luckless, and two other unfortunate women traveled to a fountain together. This fountain could grant someone good fortune the rest of their lives. Sir Luckless was the one who was allowed to bathe in its waters. When he came out, he fell at Amata's feet and asked for her hand, and heart. They lived happily ever after, and no one knew that the fountain carried no enchantment at all."
"I suppose that was happy. Though, I suppose you didn't have to tell me the whole story. Ah well, the past is the past. It was a very nice story. Any others?" She sighed and leaned against my shoulder.
"Well, yes, but none of them are happy. I could tell you some from my world, but I doubt you'd want to hear those. They are quite boring. Instead, I want to hear about you." We walked over to a stone bench and sat down.
"Oh my story is quite boring. I doubt you want to hear it. But I shall tell you anyway. I was five when I was found by Prince Corin. I'd had one brother and both my parents. My brother and I were very close. I was never a lady. We would always play in the mud and hunt for food. But then, all of it was taken away from me. A group of men came by the village one day. They were from a neighboring one, our enemy. They set our village on fire and then killed any survivors. I had run away in the woods to escape. After the fire died down, and they had left, I went back to the remains of my house. None of my family was alive. I fell asleep one day, and woke up in the castle. I met Corin first. He was sitting by my bedside, waiting for me to wake up. Of course, I hadn't been asleep for long. I lived in the castle for two years until I got the cataracts in my eyes. The doctors couldn't do anything about it, so I went blind. And then, when I was fifteen, Corin found Cor. I sat in the castle doing nothing, and Father wouldn't let me meet the royals. Cor and I have been very close. He reminds me a lot of Azhton. And now, here I am. I told you it's boring." She tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.
"Everyone's stories are different. And none are boring. I stood up and bowed to her. "I suppose I shall take my leave. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast, I hope?"
"Of course…Edmund." She smiled and gazed up at the sky as I walked away into the party.
-Cecelia's POV-
I sighed and made my way through the doors and back into the party. I stayed against the wall and thought about what Edmund had told me:
"Everyone's stories are different. And none are boring."He was very wise for his age. He was, what? Nineteen? Only a year older than myself! He confused me. Then again, most boys did.
I sighed and heard a hand slap the wall behind my head. "Hello, my lady." Bile rose in my throat as I realized who had spoken. His breath smelled of wine; this I recognized when I realized his face was inches from mine.
"Hello, Lord Jonathon. Pleasure," I lied. It was so hard not to gag and spit in his face. Though I didn't know what his face looked like, I guessed it to be ugly. But by the sound of his voice, he sounded handsome: the kind of man most ladies went for. I presumed he was a few years older than me, perhaps King Peter's age. Whatever age, or whatever he looked like, I still despised him. He took advantage of my disability and was constantly asking for my hand in marriage. Thankfully, Father had declined all of them.
I side-stepped away from him and his position to me. "Pleasure is mine," he growled. If I could've, I would've rolled my eyes. "What is a…fine…lady like you doing all alone? You should have an escort. I do not have a lady on my arm, so maybe you would like to fill that spot?"
I would have rather eaten rats rolled in garlic. "Actually," I started, "I do have an escort. He's just gone to get us drinks. He should be back any minute." Hoping he would get the hint, I smiled broadly.
"Oh really? And who is this…man?" he asked. I could hear the sarcasm in his voice; it was practically dripping.
"Uh…" I hadn't thought that far. I thought of the first name that came to my head. "King Peter. Yes, uh…the High King." I mentally slapped myself. I should've said Edmund! I actually knewhim! Stupid, stupid.
"One day, my Lady, you willbe mine," he growled in my ear. "Whether you like it or not." I shivered; not in a good way. I pushed off the wall and maneuvered (or tried to, anyway) through the crowd.
I bumped into a chest somewhere that sounded right next to the music. "Oh dear, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed.
"It's alright. Just a bump." The voice sounded soft, but strong at the same time. High King Peter! Thank Aslan! A sense of coldness shimmied down my spine and I realized that Lord Jonathon was somewhere close.
"Please forgive me for asking, but could you possibly do me a favor?" I asked timidly.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Well, it's just, there's this lord, Lord Jonathon, and he wants to marry me, but he's disgusting. He came up to me and asked to be my escort. I lied and told him you were mine, so would you mind dancing with me?" I said (and asked) all in one breath.
"Well, you could've just asked." He laughed lightly, and took my small hand in his larger one. He led me around the room spinning, twirling, and laughing. "I must say, I figured you would say my brother, King Edmund. It seemed like you two got along quite nicely."
"I probably should've, considering I actually know him. But you were the first thing that popped into my mind. Don't ask why. I've been asking myself the same thing." We laughed as the song ended. "I hope he's convinced," I voiced.
"This should convince him." I felt pressure on my cheek and realized he kissed me on the cheek; I blushed. "Yes, I would say he is convinced." I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Let's just say he saw that." I laughed and smiled at him. I curtsied and thanked him for the dance.
I walked away and once again, bumped into a chest. This time, I recognized the scent. "Hello, Ed," I said cheerfully.
"What was that?" Well, someone didn't beat around the bush.
"The thing with King Peter? Oh, I did that just to convince someone. I lied and said he was my escort. I should've said you..." I trailed off. I bit my lip in nervousness. I was hoping he wasn't mad.
"Oh. Alright. Are you tired?" Now that I thought about it, I was quite exhausted. I nodded and I felt Edmund take my arm.
"Where are we going?" I asked. Yes, I was tired, but I wasn't ready to leave quite yet! "I don't want to leave!" I pulled my arm from his grasped and walked to stand against the wall. I sensed him beside me. "You don't have to stay with me, you know."
"I'm doing this because I want to. I saw what happened with that lord. He was quite handsome." I raised my eyebrows at him.
"Really? What does he look like?"
"He has curly gold hair, and from what I could tell, gold eyes. He was well built too." I could hear the scowl in his voice.
"Ed, don't worry. Of course he sounds handsome, but he's a git. He's been trying to ask my hand in marriage. Thankfully, Father's declined each time." I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Edmund took my hand and squeezed it gently. I leaned on his shoulder. I was glad to have a friend like Edmund.
If you can guess where the story of Amata and Sir Luckless came from, you will be a big character in the story. The FIRST person!
Love it? Hate it? Let me know!
Hannah. x