Written for the 26th Adventures in Narnia prompt: Baggage

Jill set down her books on the round table with a relieved sigh. She plopped into the chair across from Eustace and just sat there for a moment, enjoying doing nothing.

But when not a single comment came from her companion, she opened her eyes and looked across at him. He wasn't doing homework (like he should be), and he wasn't looking at her; he appeared to be entirely in his own world.

Well. Two could play at that game. She reached over and pulled her maths book from the middle of the stack. It would definitely preoccupy her own mind for a time.

For a time. A very short time. But she found herself glancing over at Scrubb. Silence just wasn't normal for him. And she found she couldn't stand it.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked abruptly.

Eustace blinked twice before turning to look at her. "Oh, hello, Pole. When did you get here?"

"Long enough to do three maths problems. Thank you for noticing."

"I didn't mean—look here, a chap has a right to think sometimes, without being called upon to notice—"

"All right, all right. Pax. I just thought you'd notice someone sitting across from you. But I'm sorry for my tone."

"Sorry for mine." Eustace turned his chair to face the table and reached for one of the three books on his side. "I'd better work on maths myself."

Jill let him work in peace, and got back to her own problems. She did four more—the rest of the set, thankfully—and leaned back in her chair, stretching her neck to one side. Eustace closed his first book and reached for the second.

But Jill didn't feel like doing more homework right now. "What were you thinking about?"

Pausing with his hand on the book, Eustace blinked again. "Dividing equations."

"Not maths. Before. When I interrupted you."

"Oh."

Jill waited, but Eustace said nothing more. Which wasn't like him. "Well?"

Eustace sat back in his chair, looking at the pencil in his fingers. "Do you remember when we first went to Narnia?"

So it was a Narnia conversation. But that didn't explain his reticence. "I'm not likely to forget."

"Remember when Glimfeather brought us to Trumpkin?"

The fat old Dwarf on his cart stood vividly in Jill's memory, yelling things until he got his hearing trumpet. "Yes."

"And what he called me?"

Jill searched her memory. She mostly remembered being dirty and impatient, wishing that the talking would end so she could just get going—"something about used?"

"Before that, the first time—he called me useless."

Jill propped her head on her hand, regarding Eustace. He looked genuinely bothered by this. "He was deaf."

"Yes, but—wasn't he right? A useless piece of baggage."

"You rescued Prince Rilian and you wonder if you're useless?"

"Forget it." Eustace slammed open his book and glared at it. But Jill wasn't about to let it rest there; tugging the book out of his hand, she closed it (gently).

"Scrubb. I know I fight with you a lot, but I'm also one of the few people you can talk to about this. Why do you think you're useless?"

"Because of the swords, and then yesterday, and then all the fighting—"

"Back up, just a minute. Swords? Yesterday? Begin it at the beginning. Remember Lucy giving us story-telling lessons she learned from that Princess? Pretend you're telling me a story."

"Pretence isn't very helpful," muttered Eustace, but he put both hands on his legs and added, "I—wasn't any good with a sword, the first time I was in Narnia. Not for a while. I even shattered one of Caspian's against the sea serpent."

"Sea serpent?!"

"Yes, when it grabbed the ship—look, I can't tell two stories at once. Which one do you want?"

"The one that's bothering you, of course," Jill answered, but privately she thought the sea serpent much more interesting than fighting with swords, and determined she'd get the full story out of Eustace later.

"Thank you. Then we went back to Narnia, and I thought I'd at least got a handle on it. I mean, I was ready to fight the Earthmen, there at the end, though there wasn't any need. I would fight. If I needed to. But I hoped I wouldn't need to."

"I don't see anything wrong with that. Our parents' generation is sick of war. How does that make you useless?"

"I'm not done telling the story yet! But I thought about the one time I did have to use my sword, really, killing the snake—"

Waiting for more, Jill watched Eustace roll his pencil on the table. When he said nothing, she decided to prompt him further. "I remember. You rushed at it with all the bravery of a knight."

"Bravery, maybe. But I didn't do any good. Rilian and Puddleglum hacked its head off."

Jill shuddered. She wasn't fond of remembering that part.

"And then over the hols—did you hear about that yet?"

"Which part?"

"When we met that group of boys hurting a dog."

"Susan told me a bit about that. She said they brought the dog home for her and Lucy to bandage up. What happened to it?"

Eustace waved a hand impatiently. "They gave it to a neighbour who'd been widowed in the war. But we had to fight to get the boys away from it."

"And didn't you?"

"Yes, but I didn't do any good!" Eustace burst out. "Don't you see? Peter's physically so big and strong, and Edmund can twist like anything, no one lays a hand on him and he can keep three bullies busy at once—but I threw one punch and got knocked down."

Eustace seemed to be missing the obvious next question, so Jill asked it anyway. "Did you get back up again?"

"Yes, but then I got knocked back down again! And Peter had to step in to keep them off me. I felt like, like a useless piece of baggage they had to drag along in a fight!"

"You tried. That's more than a lot of people do."

"A fat lot of help that would have been to the dog. Or to anyone else. I can't even do anything for my cousins in my own home."

"Why does that matter right now?"

Eustace sighed, and indicated his stack of books. "There's a letter from my mum in there. She's writing to make sure I don't 'pick up any more undesirable habits and manners' when my cousins arrive."

"They're coming over?"

"For three days at Easter. And all I can think about is the cutting remarks my mother will make, and how I can't do anything to make it better."

And what was there to say to that? Jill could point out, of course, Spivens and Rilian and Jill herself who had all been helped by Eustace, and how the cousins would be delighted to see Eustace—lucky him, and he'd completely forgotten to invite her along as well—but she got the feeling that nothing she said could reach Eustace right now.

"Do your homework, and that will prove you're not extra baggage." She shoved his book back to him and waited till he opened it, and then picked up pen and paper.

It was time to write a letter.

A/N: I do intend to finish this, but I ran out of time to write the second part today. I don't know if I'll finish it tomorrow (I don't have my second job tomorrow) or after the writing challenge ends, but I am going to finish. Barring a catastrophe or something similar.