AN: Well, here it is, chapter three. This made me very frustrated and very cross as I find Susan very difficult to write. My apologies if it is a little dull.

Many thanks to all those who reviewed my previous chapters. It means the world to me.

Reviewers shall have my eternal gratitude.

Disclaimer: Not mine. It all belongs to a guy who I admire and respect too much to steal from.

Susan stood in the dining hall, hand on hip.

" Peeeeter!" she called, her voice calculated to carry long distances. " Edmuuuuund!"

Peter, snoozing on his throne, snapped awake and fumbled clumsily for his sword. He drew it from its sheath and listened intently.

" Peeeeter!"

With a groan, the High King realised that it wasn't a lethal enemy, as he had at first suspected. It was worse. Much worse. For the past two weeks, Susan had joined with the fauns in plotting a cruel and unusual form of torture for his and Edmund's especial benefit. The bane of any self-respecting lad: dance lessons. Peter shuddered at the mere thought and, without a trace of kingly dignity, resorted to cowering behind his throne.

" Edmuuuund!"

Edmund heard the call from his position in the Royal Pantry and immediately dropped the tarts and pastries he had been in the process of pilfering. Terror overtook his courageous heart as he looked for a means of escape. The door was out of the question. Who knew what dangers lurked behind it? And there were no windows, save one, in the pantry. This window was so high up, and so small, that Edmund felt it to be impossible. But even the impossible must be attempted before he succumbed to the evils of the waltz. Breathing in deeply, Edmund placed a chair against the door and turned to face the daunting task of scaling the wall.

Lucy heard the call and, unlike her brothers, sallied forth to meet the enemy head on. She wasn't called the Valiant for nothing, you know.

" Hello, Susan," she said cheerfully, falling into step beside her royal sister, who was steadily pacing. " Did you lose something?"

" Someone," was the dark reply. " Actually, two boys who shall rue the day they missed my dance lesson."

" Again?"

" Yes. Again."

" Where do you think they're hiding this time?"

" At a guess, Lucy," said Susan, wrinkling her nose slightly, " anywhere that I am not. Honestly, why do I even bother trying to civilise them?"

" Because you're a darling older sister and love them very much?"

" I don't love them very much at the moment," Susan responded dryly. " Ah well," she continued," I suppose I shall have to cancel the lesson for today. It's getting late."

As if by magic a dishevelled High King appeared at the door.

" Hullo, Susan," he said casually, ignoring the look of frustration shot his way. " Were you calling me?"

Oh, his innocence was disarming. Susan, however, was still on the warpath.

" You know full well that I have been calling you for the past hour," she said, angrily cuffing him upside the head. " Where have you been?"

Peter's eyes widened considerably.

" You were?" he asked, his tone one of confusion. " I'm sorry, Su, but you know how busy I - I -" he trailed off, suddenly realising that his sister wasn't buying any of it. " I hate dancing," he finished lamely, trying (and failing) to look fierce.

Susan scoffed. Lucy giggled.

" You have no refinement at all," the former scolded, hand on hip. " You know it is the King's responsibility to dance at all balls and ceremonies. No wonder Calormen is confident that Narnia is a land of barbarians."

" Hang refinement," muttered Peter, slouching into a chair. " Banish balls and ceremonies. Ignore Calormen."

" You're talking nonsense, Peter!"

" Am I?" challenged Peter. " I think I'm making perfect sense. Don't you, Lu?"

" Well, I -" began Lucy, before Susan interrupted:

" Don't you dare bring Lucy into this, Peter. It is your duty."

" Hang duty!"

Susan's bottom lip quivered. Large tears formed in her blue eyes.

" Forget about it then," she cried. "Forget about how foolish you'll look when that Duchess' daughter from Archenland pays us a visit. "

Peter wavered. Whether it was Susan's piteous look, or the threat of being the butt of jokes in Archenland for years to come, will never be known. He simply sighed, straightened his crown, and got to his feet.

" Fine," he said, with all the good grace he could muster. Clasping his hands in front of him, he said, with a tragic air:

" Take me away."

Susan smiled. Tears vanished, leaving clear, sparkling eyes. She took Peter's arm and Lucy's hand and led them from the room.

" After all," she said, " there's still a good too hours before sunset."

Peter groaned.

***

While Peter is caught in Susan's, ahem, clutches, let us see how Edmund is faring.

Oomph!

That is the sound of a Just King struggling to escape from a small window not intended for anything, save ventilation.

With his head and shoulders on one side of the wall, and his hind-quarters on the other, Edmund Pevensie was in a bit of a pickle. No matter how hard he struggled, the small boy could not dislodge himself from this embarrassing and uncomfortable position. Two broken jars of jam testified to his struggles.

" Your Highness!"

That is the sound of the laundry maid, Flora Rabbit, discovering the crestfallen face and shoulders of a mortified king.

" Greetings, Lady," said Edmund, addressing her in as formal a manner as he could muster. It is very difficult to be courteous when one is in so uncomfortable a position. " Did you lose something?"

" No, Majesty."

" I have."

" And what is that, Your Highness?"

" My dignity."

" Oh." Flora Rabbit blushed and edged slightly closer. " May I call assistance?"

An image of a furious Susan, a twinkling Lucy and a snickering Peter flashed before Edmund's eyes. he sighed, defeated.

" Yes please -"

" Flora, your Majesty."

" Thank-you, Flora. That would be a great help."

The rabbit scampered off, leaving poor Edmund to mentally reason within himself how much fun his siblings would get out of his current predicament. It was not a cheering thought.

***

" One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two - Come on Peter, you can do better than that. One, two, three. One, two - Ouch!"

Susan grasped her aching foot. " You did that on purpose!" she cried.

Peter, sore and flustered, stumbled into a small chair. He leaned back and glared at his younger sister.

" No I didn't," he wheezed. " I told you I hated dancing!'

" I can see why," said Susan, gliding into another chair with careless grace, " you're simply terrible at it. Didn't anyone tell you the difference between your left and right foot?"

" Maybe he has two left feet," Lucy piped up.

Peter directed a sour look in her direction.

" And maybe -" he began.

" We should call it a day," finished Susan, terminating a splendid quarrel between her brother and sister.

" A very good suggestion," said Peter cheerfully. The end of a dance lesson always had the effect of putting him in fine spirits. " Why don't we go find Ed and congratulate him on missing Su's dance class."

" Oh, grow up, Peter," snapped Susan.

Peter wisely offered no retort.

" Yes," cried Lucy, breaking a silence. " I was wondering where Edmund has been all day. Poor dear, he must be feeling terribly ignored."

" I'm sure he's feeling dreadful," sniggered Peter.

The creaking of the large door at the end of the hall interrupted Susan's reply to Peter's impertinence. Indeed, it rendered all the siblings speechless.

At the end of the hall stood Edmund, a frightful scowl on his face. His tights and tunic were torn and covered in mud and jam. Stalking to where his siblings stood, frozen in shock, he sat cross-legged on a small table and glared them down.

" What are you staring at?" he demanded.

Peter blinked and recovered the power of speech.

" Wha - what happened?"

" If you think I'm going to tell you, Peter Pevensie, you must be madder than I thought," snapped Edmund. And that is all the siblings ever got out of their brother on the subject.

It all came out, of course, by virtue of Cair Paravel's gossip chain. The faun and badger that Flora had asked for aid seemed to think it a good joke, and recounted it to all who would listen.

As it turned out, Edmund had been a good deal more stuck then was first suspected. It was only when the badger pulled from the front and the faun pushed from behind that he was dislodged and went sailing through the air, finally coming to rest in a delightful hole of mud.

When his brother and sisters heard of it, they acted as befitted their natures. Peter teased him mercilessly, Susan was sympathetic (trying her best to hide her twinkling eyes), and Lucy thought it a good joke.

The next time Susan called her brothers for a dance lesson, they came very promptly. Edmund, for one, was a reformed character.