Author's Note: Just a couple things to mention: 1. I'm just guessing Edmund is 11 at the time of this story. If I'm wrong - and I probably am - could someone let me know, and tell me what the right age is? Thanks. 2. I apologise if i sounded a little harsh in my author's note for the second chapter. I was tired when I was writing it, and i'm afraid it may sound offensive. I'll go back and change it so it doesn't sound so bad. And 3. I like reviews,, because they help me write better! PLEASE REVIEW. And thanks to Don-Jam for reviewing on the first two chapters.

I try to stay quiet as I make my way down to the kitchen. It's early morning, and I don't wish to wake anyone for the sake of my hot cocoa. I certainly am not expecting anyone to be awake yet, so it's a surprise when I enter the kitchen to hear the sound of the kettle whistling on the stove.

Edmund is seated at the kitchen table, a book resting on the table before him. He looks up as I enter the room, and laughs at my surprised expression.

"I've always been a bit of an early riser," he explains, standing to take the kettle off the stove. "Cup of tea?" he offers, pouring a cup for himself.

"Cocoa, actually," I respond, feeling very much at home. "And you don't need to go to any trouble for me; I can make it."

"Nonsense!" laughs Edmund. "You sit down. This isn't too much trouble at all – unless you don't believe a king of Narnia would know how to make cocoa."

"They have cocoa in Narnia?" I ask in surprise as I seat myself as instructed.

"Well, not exactly," Edmund admits. "More like cups of steaming chocolate, but that's not the point. What I mean is, it isn't too hard to prepare a hot cocoa. Pour the mix, add the water, stir – cream?" I nod. He takes the ceramic jug and adds a dollop of cream. "And ta-da! One cup of steaming hot cocoa, compliments of the Just." He sets the cup down in front of me, then sits in his own seat across the table, cradling his tea in his hands.

"Morning, Ed!" Lucy prances into the kitchen. "Morning, Miss Plummer. Is that hot cocoa I smell?"

"Good morning," I greet her. "Please, call me Aunt Polly."

"Good morning, Aunt Polly!" Lucy corrects herself quickly.

"So you're an early riser, too?" I assume.

Lucy grimaces. "Not really. I just couldn't sleep. The sheets feel awfully scratchy compared to Narnian quality."

I doubt it's the sheets that bother her most, but I don't say anything, enjoying instead the peaceful mood of the kitchen.

"It's been so long since I've been here," I say instead. "It's good to be back."

"Did you used to come here often?" Lucy asks from the stove, where she's making her own cup of cocoa.

"Yes." I smile and the memories. "I'd spend a part of every summer up here."

"Why did you stop?" Edmund asks, looking up from his book.

I almost tell them it isn't a story for children, but then I remember I'm not exactly talking to children, but rather a king and queen.

"Digory and I got into a bit of a disagreement," I admit, "It was rather silly, now that I think back to it."

"Oh, what happened?" Lucy cries, sitting beside Edmund. She blows on her cocoa to cool it, and then waits with eyes wide with concern.

I feel reluctant to relive my memory with them, but find myself telling everything that had happened.

"Digory always seemed to be thinking of Aslan; seeing His work," I explained after. "Everywhere we went, Digory would point out something – be it a cluster of primroses, or a clear, starry night sky – and would remark that only Aslan could make something so beautiful. At first I had marvelled at his ability to see Aslan in the little things, but after a while, it grew tiring. Maybe it was because I was jealous of his simple ability to see Aslan's work everywhere.

"Perhaps I wouldn't have gotten so annoyed if I had gotten a good night's sleep, or if I wasn't quite so busy with packing, but who knows? Maybe it would have happened at a different time." I sighed and fell silent, my previous good mood replaced by one of regret.

"And now you wonder if maybe Digory was right," Edmund assumes.

Lucy is already shaking her head as I reply. "No, I believe now. I accept that Aslan and Jesus are one."

Edmund frowns slightly. "There's still a problem, though," he guessed. I grimaced.

Lucy speaks up. "He'll forgive you," she says softly. Something about her expression tells me she's thinking of Aslan rather than Digory.

Edmund understands who she means, too. "I say, yes," he adds quickly. "Look at me. I've been forgiven for much worse."

I look at the two of them. Both look so young, it's easy to forget that these two helped rule a country for nearly fifteen years.

"Thank you both so much," I say warmly.

Lucy beams, shattering the serious mood around us. "No, thank you!" she replies, "For coming to see us. After all, it's not every day we get to meet someone of legend!"

An interesting perspective, I think as I stand. I certainly don't feel very legendary. Who would have thought my visit to Narnia with Digory would be remembered thousands of years after the event?

"Here," Edmund offers, and holds out the book he had been reading. "This might help."

I take it to see I hold a Bible. I would have been surprised to see any other 10 year old with a Bible, but not with Edmund. Instead, I take it with gratitude.

Had I been offered this book even a week before, I would have refused it. Now, I might even give it a try.