
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/120525.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Chronicles_of_Narnia_-_C._S._Lewis
  Relationship:
      Edmund_Pevensie/Eustace_Scrubb, Caspian/Edmund_Pevensie
  Character:
      Caspian, Edmund_Pevensie, Eustace_Scrubb, Jill_Pole, Lucy_Pevensie, Peter
      Pevensie, Reepicheep, Original_Characters
  Additional Tags:
      Community:_livelongnmarry, Angst, Drama, Romance, First_Time, Frottage,
      Incest, Infidelity
  Series:
      Part 19 of Narnia_Sequence
  Stats:
      Published: 2008-11-02 Words: 11240
****** Bound to Be ******
by Celandine
Summary
     From the time Eustace falls in love with Edmund, it takes years
     before anything happens... but some things are bound to be.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Eustace wondered, afterward, if the fact that Edmund had been the first person
he saw and spoke with after his un-dragoning -- that Edmund had been the person
to whom he felt comfortable telling what had happened -- in some way presaged
everything that came later.
It certainly was not until after that night that he began to think of Edmund as
a real person, someone he might like, not just as one of his annoying Pevensie
cousins. The way that Edmund had listened when Eustace talked, had seemed to
care about what had happened, made Eustace realise that perhaps Edmund didn't
despise him or look down on him as he had always supposed.
He began to watch Edmund the day that the Dawn Treader left Dragon Island. Not
stare, not follow him around, but simply observe him. Edmund had been a king,
and although Eustace had never had much use for the notion of ruling monarchs -
- far too old-fashioned and of questionable worth in a modern society -- he saw
that there was something about the way that Edmund and Caspian (and Lucy too, a
bit) acted that set them apart from the others aboard ship. It was a self-
assurance, Eustace decided, that never quite became cockiness. A self-command
great enough to listen to others and learn from them without being threatened.
Eustace admired, even rather envied that. Harold and Alberta's friends were all
terribly clever, but they liked to show off their cleverness. They either tried
to put each other down in conversation, or else divided up their areas of
competence so finely that there was no one against whom they could be measured.
Eustace thought it would be much nicer to be like Edmund, liked as well as
respected.
"Would you teach me how to use a sword?" he asked several mornings later as the
wind made the sail flap above them in the sunlight.
Edmund stared at him for a moment, and Eustace flushed, remembering how at the
beginning of their adventure he had asserted that he was a pacifist.
"It seems as if it might be useful, and anyway a sword is more honourable than
a gun," Eustace muttered.
"What's a gun?" asked Caspian.
"Don't let's talk about guns," Lucy said with a shudder.
"As you wish." Caspian gave Lucy a little bow. "But since you are keen to learn
the sword, Eustace, I will lend you one of mine. Either Edmund or I can
instruct you."
"I too would be happy to do so," piped Reepicheep.
"I... I think you might be too skilled for me," said Eustace awkwardly. He was
really thinking "too small," though he knew the Mouse was considered a
dangerous fighter. He had appreciated Reepicheep's efforts to cheer him when
Eustace had been a dragon, and didn't want to hurt Reepicheep's feelings.
"Better to be taught by one more skilled." Reepicheep cocked his head, drawing
his sword and twirling it.
"We could all help," Edmund offered, and Eustace smiled gratefully at him.
The lessons began that very morning. Eustace found that, in fact, Reepicheep
was an excellent instructor despite his size, better at explaining things than
either of the other two, although because of the differences in how his and
Eustace's legs and arms moved, Eustace could not always do everything
suggested.
Eustace practised with the Mouse for over an hour, which Reepicheep said was
more than enough for a first lesson. He rested in the shade by Lucy afterward,
his eyes turned toward Edmund, who was standing with Caspian by the rail.
Caspian's hair gleamed gold in the sunshine, but it was the darker Edmund to
whom Eustace's gaze was drawn.
Unaccustomed muscles ached from the exercise, but Eustace's heart was sorer,
watching them. He had hoped -- for what? Suddenly he felt foolish, a sheepdog
puppy hoping for a word of praise for its inexpert chasing of the sheep.
"You did well," said Lucy softly at his elbow. She followed his glance. "Both
Caspian and Edmund thought so, I know."
"Did they?" Eustace couldn't help asking.
She nodded. "I know my brother well enough to be sure of that."
Eustace would have liked to have heard it from Edmund's own lips, but for that
time he had to be content with Lucy's assertion.
He practised each day for the rest of the voyage under Reepicheep's tutelage.
His moment of greatest triumph, however, came not long after the beginning of
his lessons, when the Sea Serpent attacked. Without stopping to let himself
think, Eustace drew the sword that Caspian had lent him and began to hack at
the creature's long scaly neck. To his dismay the scales were impenetrable, and
indeed the sword broke upon them, though he kept up his efforts with the
shattered remnants until he heard Caspian calling for everyone to push instead.
After they had escaped from the menace, Eustace apologised to Caspian for
destroying the sword.
Caspian laughed it off, saying, "Better it should come to such a worthy end,"
and arranged for Eustace to borrow a sword from Drinian so that he might
continue practising.
All through those weeks Eustace tried hard not to let anyone see how he watched
Edmund, being especially careful on the rare occasions when Edmund was alone on
deck. It would be all right if someone thought he was admiring Caspian;
everyone seemed to. There was a kind of aura about Caspian, perhaps because he
was king, perhaps just because he was himself. Eustace wasn't sure. Days and
weeks of watching the two of them together, though, made Eustace realise how
deep their affections for each other ran, and forced him to acknowledge the
qualities in Caspian that had doubtless attracted Edmund. Edmund's virtues
Eustace had no trouble in recognising, nor his physical attributes, which
indeed Eustace found himself dwelling on more every day, though he concealed
that.
He might have fallen into melancholy, but that his attempts to learn
swordsmanship both invigorated and exhausted him, so that he slept each night
deeply and undisturbed.
When Caspian declared that he would go on to the End of the World, Eustace felt
for a bit as if he might suffocate. The one thing he had counted on was that if
and when he returned to his own world -- which seemed more distant day by day -
- it would be only himself and his cousins who did so. He could not imagine any
of the Narnians going there. To his relief, though, it was but a short time
before Caspian acknowledged that he could not leave... and it was a greater, if
guiltier, relief when Edmund and Lucy were told that they could not again
return to Narnia.
Harold and Alberta's house seemed cramped and dull after his return, and all
its open windows were as nothing compared to the fresh breezes he had grown
accustomed to on the Dawn Treader. Eustace quickly realised that he had changed
irrevocably, in ways that made his parents not quite comfortable. He was almost
glad when the summer holidays were over and it was time to return to Experiment
House, though it also meant that Edmund and Lucy returned to their schools as
well, and he would not see Edmund until at least the next holiday.
===============================================================================

"What are you doing, Scrubb?"
Eustace very consciously did not try to cover up the sheet of paper on which
he'd been writing. "Just a letter," he said carelessly. "To my cousin. He
borrowed something of mine over the hols and I wanted to see if I could get it
back."
The strategy worked.
"Oh," said Quentin, clearly losing interest. "You've finished with your Latin
prep, then?"
Eustace nodded.
"Can I have a look?"
Eustace hesitated, but nodded again. Students were not, of course, supposed to
copy from one another, but if he refused there was no telling what Quentin
might do. And if, as was also possible, he didn't give it back tonight, Eustace
could manage to make it up tomorrow somehow.
Quentin took the neatly-written pages with a nod and a smirk and went off to
the table where his friends were sitting.
Eustace gave a silent sigh of relief. He really oughtn't to risk writing like
this. He'd never send any of the letters, in fact he burned them each night
after he had finished each one, but that didn't mean someone might not grab one
and read it before Eustace destroyed it.
And yet he hated to give it up. Even unsent, the letters were the only way he
had of feeling that he was close to Edmund, however spurious and illusory a
connection it might be. He would just have to be more careful.
Eustace folded the paper small and stuffed it in his pocket for later disposal,
then pulled his stack of books closer. Tucked into the centre was the copy of
Malory's King Arthur that he'd found tucked among the dusty old volumes of
Gibbon and Macaulay on the common room shelf, probably sitting there untouched
since the days before Experiment House had been a school, back before the First
World War when this had still been someone's stately home.
Malory was another indulgence concerning which Eustace knew he should be
cautious, but it was practically irresistible. He wondered how he could ever
have read the sort of dry books of facts that he used to like, or despised
tales like these of derring-do and heroism and chivalry. He bent his head over
the crackling pages and was swept up in the tragic triangle of King Arthur and
the queen Guinevere and the great knight Lancelot.
"Scrubb," said his maths professor wearily the next day. "Please go to the
blackboard and demonstrate how to solve exercise six on page 142, if you
would?"
Rising, Eustace went to the board and solved the equation -- or tried to. A
gasp from behind him indicated that he had gone wrong somewhere, but as he
stared at the figures he couldn't tell where he'd made the mistake.
"Sit down, Scrubb. Andrewes, would you please carry on?"
Eustace returned to his seat, shamed. He had completely forgotten to do his
maths prep; he had intended to do it after he had finished his letter, but
Quentin's interruption had distracted him. If he wasn't careful, he would get
poor marks this term, and then Harold would sit him down for one of those
dreadful father-son chats that Eustace loathed. Perhaps he had better both stop
writing to Edmund and reading the Arthurian legends for the duration of the
term... but it would be hard, very hard. Now that his imagination and his
emotions had both been wakened, Eustace was reluctant to risk them going to
sleep again.
He worried the thought over in his mind for a while, and then it occurred to
him that if he gave up the letter-writing and the romance-reading, it was a bit
like Edmund being told he couldn't return to Narnia any more. That made Eustace
feel better, almost noble, for making such a sacrifice on his own. He held to
it pretty steadily for the rest of the term, reminding himself of how kings
behaved when Stebbins tried to get the truth out of him about the rabbit by
forcing Eustace to keep from going to the loo for over twenty-four hours.
He couldn't stop himself from thinking about his adventures in Narnia from time
to time at quiet moments, though. It was at one such moment that he came upon
Pole, one of the few girls in his class who seemed to be a decent sort with
some common sense about her, blubbing behind the gym.
===============================================================================

After the dreadful way that he arrived in Narnia, and the even greater shock of
discovering that Caspian was still alive but an old, old man, both of which he
was inclined to chalk up to Pole's account although he knew that the latter at
least was unfair, Eustace was dismayed, to say the least, when Puddleglum
suggested that he and Pole share blankets for warmth on Ettinsmoor.
That dismay was nothing compared to what happened the next morning. He had been
dreaming pleasantly of practising the sword with Caspian as he used to do, and
winning, while Edmund looked on, and he woke with a very natural physical
reaction. Before he could move away from Pole or hide it, though, she had
wakened, and to his shock, touched him there, stroking him until he came in a
rush of heat matched by the scalding shame on his face. He had daydreamed about
doing that with Edmund, but he had certainly never expected anything of the
sort to happen with Pole, whom he didn't even know that well, and who was a
girl besides. She didn't have the reputation of being a slag. Did she expect
him to reciprocate? He had no idea what girls liked or what she might expect.
But Pole didn't ask for anything physical, to his relief. Instead over the next
few days somehow she persuaded him to tell her about Edmund. She would ask him
questions about his adventures on the Dawn Treader, and Eustace tried hard to
conceal his affection for his cousin, talking about Caspian instead, and
Reepicheep and the others. All of these stories pleased Puddleglum, who
commented more than once in his own backhanded way that he enjoyed hearing
tales of the king in his youth. Eustace's strategy backfired when it came to
Pole herself, however.
"Why do you never say much about your cousin Edmund?" Pole asked one day, as
they were picking their way over a barren stretch of ground. Puddleglum was
walking a little ways ahead, trying to see if he could find and shoot a grouse
for their dinner.
"Don't I?" said Eustace as casually as he could manage.
Pole shook her head. "And you always get a funny look in your face when you do
mention him. Is it that..." she hesitated. "Is it that you fancy him? That's
it, I knew it," she said triumphantly when Eustace could not control the colour
rushing up his face. "You said you'd never done, well, you know, with any
girls, so I wondered if perhaps you liked boys better. It's all right, it
doesn't bother me."
Eustace swallowed and looked at her cautiously. "Doesn't it?"
"No. Why should it?"
That was a question to which Eustace could find no reasonable answer, it was so
self-evident to him. "Because... because it's illegal?" he offered weakly at
last.
"Is it? I don't think I knew that. But it doesn't matter anyway. If it is then
that's a stupid law. Fancy making laws about who you can fall in love with."
Pole shrugged. "Much better instead to make laws to stop people hurting each
other, I think."
Put like that, it did seem ridiculous, Eustace had to agree. "But you mustn't
tell anyone," he cautioned. "Even if you don't think it matters, you know that
lots of people will, back home."
"Of course not," Pole said.
Looking at Pole, Eustace believed her. After that he felt able to talk about
Edmund a bit more when he reminisced at night, although he also tried not to
let his face give him away to Puddleglum.
It was rather pleasant, in fact, to be able to confide in Pole. He might not
have wanted to reveal his secret to anyone except -- someday -- perhaps -
- Edmund himself, but Pole was a good listener. Eustace found himself thinking
of her more and more not so much as a girl, but just as a friend. He caught her
giving him thoughtful looks from time to time, and eventually she astonished
him by suggesting that if he was serious about liking Edmund, he was going to
need to persuade his cousin that he was serious, and it might be a good idea to
have some physical experience to support his case. Even more astonishingly, she
suggested that she would be suitable for helping him acquire that experience.
"I know I'm not a boy," she said impatiently when Eustace pointed out the
obvious. "But I can help you learn how to kiss better and things of that sort,
and you'll be able to say for sure that it isn't girls you really fancy if
you've tried being with one."
There was certain amount of logic to her proposal, and Eustace promised to
think it over, although they didn't really have the opportunity to do much in
Narnia, not with Puddleglum there all the time.
===============================================================================

Back at Experiment House, though, Eustace decided that perhaps Jill was right.
He would feel odd about being with any boy except Edmund, really; all his
fantasies of kissing Edmund were wrapped up in having seen his cousin with
Caspian, the way that the two of them looked at each other with such intense
tenderness. He had imagined himself as Caspian in Edmund's arms many times. But
being with a girl, with Jill, didn't feel like a betrayal in the same way, and
he did want to be able to go to Edmund knowing what he was doing, not to
embarrass himself through ignorance.
So the two of them began to meet in secret, usually once or twice a week, in
various places on the school grounds. Eustace suggested that they might study
together as well, but Jill shook her head.
"If we do that, then people will think of us as a couple, the way that they do
with Jackson and Barnett, and then someone will notice if we both disappear at
the same time... and perhaps come looking for us."
He marvelled again at her logic and had to agree that she was probably correct.
They learned quite a lot from each other over the next several terms. Starting
with kisses, they moved on to other things quite soon, to their mutual
enjoyment. They discovered to their surprise that Eustace's nipples were more
sensitive than Jill's were, but that Jill could come again and again if Eustace
sucked her nipple and fingered her clit at the same time.
"Are you planning to go to university?" Jill asked him one day as they were
hastily tidying their clothes. "I've rather assumed you were, but I realised
I'd never actually asked."
"Oh yes." Eustace straightened his tie. "Harold and Alberta expect nothing
less. I'll be trying for Oxford or Cambridge. I'd rather it was Cambridge, even
though I might have to live with my parents; Edmund is at Trinity Hall there.
Though he's supposed to finish this year, he might stay on for post-graduate
work, perhaps at one of the other colleges, I don't know."
"I see." Jill's voice was considering. "Have you ever, you know, told him how
you feel?"
Eustace shook his head. "I don't see him very often. It's not the sort of thing
one wants to put into a letter, not out of nowhere."
"You should think about it," said Jill firmly, and did up the last buttons of
her cardigan. "If what you've told me about him is true, that he was really in
love with Caspian, it must be dreadful for him to know that he'll never see
Caspian again."
She was right, as usual, and Eustace began seriously to contemplate the
possibilities. He and Harold and Alberta were going to spend Christmas at the
Pevensies' house. The two sisters traded years, and Eustace's aunt was
accustomed to providing vegetarian fare for her sister's family, although
Eustace in fact was quite happy to eat meat these days, between his time at
school and his visits to Narnia. He just didn't let Alberta see him doing it.
Eustace smiled gamely when his Aunt Bea put before him a plate with a nut
cutlet on it. The roast beef smelled delicious, although he could see that his
parents were wrinkling their noses. Perhaps he could slip into the kitchen and
make himself a sandwich at teatime. Meanwhile, he loaded up his plate with
roast potatoes and sprouts and all the other good things there were to eat.
"How are your studies going, Edmund?" asked Albert, ignoring Peter, who had
gone into a stockbroker's firm after university. Harold still had hope that his
younger nephew might become an academic.
"Well, thank you," said Edmund. He looked politely across the table at his
uncle, but Eustace could see the lack of any expression on his face.
"Studying mathematics, aren't you?"
"Yes, uncle."
"A useful discipline. Very useful." Harold nodded. "A good choice for you."
"Do tell us about your young man, Susan," put in Alberta. "Bea, you told me he
was called William Clapham?"
"Will, yes," said Susan, blushing a little. "He's a solicitor with a big firm
in the city."
Beside Eustace, Lucy nudged his ankle, and when Eustace glanced at her, she
rolled her eyes unobtrusively. Eustace gave her a small grin, and then turned
his attention to his meal, except that between bites he would glance across the
table at Edmund, who had put on a forced-looking smile and was eating steadily.
Eustace wondered if perhaps his studies weren't going well, but he didn't
really believe that of Edmund, who had, after all, won a scholarship.
After dinner the women all disappeared into the kitchen to do the washing up,
and the men went and talked over drinks in the front room -- mulled wine for
Peter and Uncle Stephen, orange juice for Harold and Eustace. The others were
talking about political affairs, and Eustace felt very young and stupid, not
knowing much since one hardly learned such things at Experiment House.
He listened for a bit, but quickly grew bored. Edmund had slipped away
somewhere after dinner, up to his room, Eustace suspected. He put down his
empty glass, murmured an excuse that no one paid attention to, and went to find
Edmund.
The door to the room that Edmund and Peter had always shared was nearly closed
but not latched. Eustace pushed it open. Edmund was sitting on the window seat,
which had once held all sorts of things like jars of frog spawn and a small
microscope and piles of battered books, but now was bare except for a stained
blue cushion, upon which Edmund was sitting. In the bright winter sunlight that
came through the panes, the bones of his face stood out harshly, and Eustace
thought to himself that Edmund must have looked so when he was near the end of
his reign in Narnia.
"What is it, Pete?" said Edmund without opening his eyes, closed against the
sun.
Eustace stepped into the room and shut the door behind him with a click, his
heart beating wildly. "It isn't Peter, it's me."
"Eustace?" Edmund eyes flew open. "What, did they send you to bring me down to
be sociable?" There was an edge of angry bitterness in his voice. "I really
don't feel like it. Tell them I ate too much and am feeling ill or something."
"That's not why I'm here," said Eustace quietly. He took a few steps closer and
lifted his chin, hoping that his voice wouldn't wobble. Unconsciously he
assumed the stance that he had learned when taught how to handle a sword by
Reepicheep and Caspian and Edmund himself on the Dawn Treader. "I know how
you're feeling, how much you miss him."
He saw a muscle in Edmund's cheek twitch, and hastily went on. "I know I'm not
Caspian, but I'm here." He sat on the window seat at Edmund's feet. "I'd do
anything for you, Edmund. I mean that. You don't have to be alone."
Edmund sighed and shook his head. "That's very kind of you, Eustace, but I
don't need your pity."
"It isn't pity," Eustace insisted, keeping his voice level and calm, "and I
know what I'm saying. What I'm offering." He let his glance flicker down to
Edmund's trousers, and wet his lips. "I know what I'm offering," he repeated.
Silence filled the room then as Edmund looked hard at Eustace's face. "I
suppose perhaps you do, at that, but..." He trailed off, swallowing hard, and
Eustace could see the dampness on Edmund's lashes as he blinked his eyes
rapidly.
"I can't stop thinking of him, you know," said Edmund in a choked voice. "You
told me how you'd seen him young again, in Aslan's country, and he even had a
few moments here in England; he'd always wanted to see our world. The last time
I saw him he was younger than I am now, and I suppose that is the age he'll be
always. But I'll grow older and older without him -- and who knows if I can
ever reach Aslan's country, now that he has forbidden me Narnia." His voice was
so sad that Eustace wanted to weep too.
"You know I love Caspian. I always shall." Edmund met Eustace's gaze again. "I
don't know that I could ever love anyone else the way I do him."
"I don't expect you to." Eustace swallowed. "I saw how you looked at him on the
Dawn Treader, and how he looked at you. Nothing could tarnish that. But I've
loved you too, for years, and it hurts me to see you so unhappy. Please,
Edmund. Will you not let me comfort you?"
He lifted his hand toward Edmund, who leaned forward a little, accepting the
touch on his cheek. Then Edmund raised his own hand to Eustace's and clasped
it.
"I guessed that you felt this way," he murmured. "I tried not to notice, but I
saw you watching."
Eustace flushed. "Yes," he admitted. "I used to write you letters, too."
"You did? I never received any." Edmund raised his eyebrows.
"I never actually sent any of them. I was too embarrassed. I used to write them
during evening prep and then burn them."
"Ah," said Edmund softly. "I didn't have that comfort; no post goes from
England to Narnia, after all."
Eustace laughed a little. "It wasn't much comfort, really, and I was nearly
caught more than once."
The lines of Edmund's body had softened somewhat as they spoke, and he no
longer looked as tense and unhappy as when Eustace had entered the room.
Eustace drew hope from that, as well as from the fact that Edmund had not
refused him, not yet at any rate. He lifted the hand that Edmund held and
kissed Edmund's fingertips. "You are too noble to toy with me, King Edmund," he
said in formal tones, and watched a spark flash in Edmund's eye. "If my
admiration is repugnant to you, tell me and I will not again trouble you with
it."
"No, cousin." Edmund's voice was a bare whisper. "But you know that the law
frowns on any physical acts of affection between two men. Not just the law,
either; society at large despises my sort."
"Our sort," Eustace corrected him.
Edmund gave him a sad smile. "I know that I have no romantic interest in women
at all, but I thought you might."
"Enough to know that while I can be friends with... with a girl, and even enjoy
a physical relationship with her, I prefer you," said Edmund. "You are the one
I think of at such times."
Colour flooded Edmund's cheeks. "Truly?"
"Truly." Eustace nodded firmly.
Edmund let out a shuddering sigh. "Well, then, in the name of the Lion I tell
you that your affection does not at all repulse me. But this is not the time
nor the place."
Reluctantly, Eustace had to agree. Much as he longed to lie in Edmund's
embrace, it would be imprudent, here where Peter or anyone might walk in at any
moment.
Edmund drew him closer and kissed him, however, a kiss that held more of
passion than Eustace had ever known. After that single kiss Edmund drew back,
saying, "We will find an opportunity, Eustace, I promise you that. Sometime
during these holidays."
Eustace's heart sang with happiness, so loudly that he could not speak, only
nod acceptance. Edmund gave him a quick embrace.
"Now go downstairs, cousin, and I will be along soon. And thank you -- I feel a
bit more like it's Christmas, now."
Which was exactly what Eustace would have hoped to hear. He touched Edmund's
hand once more and then left, going to the kitchen for another glass of juice
and finding only Lucy there.
"Were you talking to Edmund?" she asked. When Eustace nodded, she said, "I'm
glad. He's seemed unhappy lately; it's difficult to tell since I don't see him
that often, but that's been my impression. And he hasn't wanted to talk about
his troubles with me. I hope you were able to him cheer him up?"
"I hope so," see Eustace, going over to the refrigerator. "Do you suppose I
could have a sandwich?"
"Roast beef?" Lucy gave him a conspiratorial grin, and Eustace smiled back.
"How did you guess?"
"I saw the way you were eyeing the platter at dinner." Lucy pulled out the
leftover meat, and began spreading horseradish on a piece of bread. "You should
be all right if you eat quickly. Susan is up in our room mending a blouse, and
Aunt Alberta and my mother went for a walk. I don't think they'll be back for
at least twenty minutes."
"Marvellous. Thank you," he added gratefully as Lucy handed him the sandwich.
"This is delicious."
"It's the least I can do, especially if you've made Edmund feel better,
whatever is distressing him."
When he returned to the front room, Eustace was able to mumble, "Talking with
cousin Lucy," to Harold's query as to where he had been. And, true to his word,
Edmund reappeared quite soon, now willing to talk to his father and uncle about
his progress at university. Eustace was content merely to listen, watching
Edmund and trying not to think about Edmund's promise that they would be
together soon, lest his desire be too prominently displayed.
From the half-daze into which he had slipped, Eustace was roused when he heard
Edmund mention his name.
"I was thinking, Uncle Harold," said Edmund in earnest tones, "that perhaps
Eustace might come and visit for another day or two this holiday."
Uncle Stephen raised his eyebrows at the issuance of this invitation, but said
nothing, and Edmund continued.
"I know he's probably, almost certainly, off to university next year and I
thought perhaps it would be useful for him to talk to me about it. Especially
if he ends up at Cambridge instead of Oxford, there might be some useful advice
I might give, you know; being an undergraduate rather than a don like you gives
one a different perspective. And we could also go into London to see the
Natural History Museum. I remember he always liked that when he was younger,
and I'd enjoy going myself."
Eustace wasn't sure if this was Edmund's scheme for the two of them being able
to spend time together. It must be, but on the other hand if Eustace stayed at
the Pevensies' house, what sort of opportunities could they have? He held his
breath, waiting for his father to speak.
"Well, Stephen, if you've no objection and Eustace wants to see more of his
cousins, I can't imagine that Alberta and I would object," said Harold,
smoothing his moustache. "Do the boy good, I expect."
"Certainly," said Uncle Stephen, although he still looked puzzled.
When Harold had gone a few minutes later to use the toilet, Peter leaned
forward.
"No offense, Ed, nor to you either, Eustace, but what's this all about?"
"Yes," Uncle Stephen agreed. "I've no objection to Eustace visiting, but this
is a bit unexpected."
Edmund said, "It just seemed like a good idea, Father. Besides, one of my
university friends has a flat in Kensington. He's often offered me the chance
to stop over there if I happened to be in the city. I'm sure Reginald wouldn't
mind if Eustace stopped too. Then we wouldn't have to take the long train ride
into the city and back again all in one day."
"Find out from this Reginald for sure before you make any plans," said Uncle
Stephen. "If he is willing, then that seems to me to be feasible."
"Of course, Father," said Edmund, but Eustace saw the badly-concealed quirk at
the corner of his mouth, and wondered what Edmund had in mind. "Shall I
telephone him?"
"That would probably be the best. Then we can settle the arrangements." Uncle
Stephen turned to Eustace. "If Edmund's friend isn't able to put you up, then
of course you'll simply stay here. We can easily squeeze a cot into the boys'
room for you."
"Not easily," Peter muttered, but he said it under his breath and his father
chose to take no notice.
"I'll go ring Reggie now." Edmund stood up and left the room.
"I believe I'll have another drink," said Uncle Stephen, rising as well. "One
for you, Pete? Can I get you anything, Eustace?"
Peter gave his glass to his father, but Eustace shook his head.
When they were alone in the room, Peter said, "I don't know what you and Ed are
up to, although I might hazard a guess. I wish you luck, in any case." His own
expression bore a curious mingling of sternness and regret.
Eustace flushed. "Thank you."
"At least you --" Peter broke off. "Never mind."
"At least I what?"
"Well..."
Eustace could tell that Peter was searching for a reply.
"At least you and Edmund can talk about Narnia," Peter said finally. "As long
as there's no one else around, that is."
"Yes." Eustace spoke the word with intensity. That was something that he had
always particularly appreciated about Jill, that she enjoyed talking over their
time in Narnia as much as he did. Of course she had only been there for his
second adventure, whereas Edmund had been there for the first, and Eustace had
never had much chance to reminisce with his cousin.
Shortly thereafter Edmund himself came back, grinning. "We can both stay at
Reginald's," he announced. "No trouble there."
"Does the day matter?" asked Harold, who had also returned.
Edmund shook his head. "I was thinking that Eustace could come down on the
twenty-seventh or twenty-eighth and he and I would go in to London that
afternoon and stay at Reginald's, then to the museum the next day, and back
home that evening, but we could as easily do it the other way around; have
Eustace stop the first night here, we go to London and stay there the next
night, and then he could go straight home to Cambridge the following day."
"The second plan sounds more sensible to me," said Uncle Stephen.
"I agree," said Harold. "We'll buy him a ticket to come here on the twenty-
eighth, then, and directly back from London on the thirtieth. Then he'll have a
few days at home before term time starts again."
===============================================================================

Eustace returned to his cousins' three days later, to be met by Edmund at the
station.
"The best part of it," said Edmund quietly as they were walking back to the
Pevensies' house, "is that Reginald wasn't actually be at his flat when we're
there. He's sent me his spare keys and says we're to make ourselves at home."
Eustace nearly dropped his overnight case at hearing this. "Did he, does he..."
he stuttered, uncertain how to ask the question he wanted to know.
"He's, hm, 'one of us' as you might say," Edmund acknowledged, "and I knew he
would understand if I brought you there, but the fact that he'll be up in
Lincoln is sheer coincidence; his sister just had a baby boy and he's to be
godfather."
"I see," said Eustace faintly. It all suddenly seemed more real than he'd
expected, these years of daydreaming about Edmund.
"Do you really want to do this?" Edmund sounded worried. "I know you said you
did, but if you've changed your mind, I'll understand."
"No. No, I do want this. Want you." Eustace couldn't quite manage to look at
Edmund as he said it. "Only I've not been with another boy before, so you'll
have to show me what to do."
"Of course." Edmund voice was slightly hoarse. "I won't mind that at all. As
long as you're certain."
"I'm certain," Eustace asserted, and they left the conversation there as they
went into the Pevensies' house.
"By the way, I think Peter knows, or guesses," Eustace said to Edmund as he put
his case on the cot that had been set up for him. "About why I'm here
visiting."
"Probably." Edmund stretched out on his own bed and propped himself on his
elbow, looking at Eustace. "You needn't worry about it, though. He has secrets
of his own to keep."
"Surely he's not," Eustace swallowed, "queer, too?"
Edmund shook his head. "Not as a regular thing, certainly, although I'd be
surprised if he hadn't been with a bloke or two. Actually I know he has, but it
isn't his preference. But whatever I know or guess about Pete isn't mine to
tell. Just be sure that he won't feel the need to expose either of us."
He patted the narrow mattress beside him. "Come here."
Eustace pushed the door shut first, until the latch clicked, then gingerly went
to sit beside Edmund. He stroked Edmund's hair, which had darkened somewhat
over the years, although Peter's and Lucy's had remained golden. The strands
were soft underneath his fingers, far shorter than Jill's.
After a few moments Edmund caught his wrist and drew him down into a kiss. His
tongue licked along the seam of Eustace's lips, and Eustace gladly yielded to
him. Whatever Edmund's feelings might be, however much he might have wished
that it were Caspian here beside him, he didn't let that stop him from giving
Eustace a full measure of passion in his kiss, gentle and strong as a summer
storm, until Eustace was drenched and gasping with the force of it.
"Edmund," he whispered, and Edmund replied, "I know. Tomorrow."
They both sighed. Eustace could feel the slow insistent throb of his prick,
trapped uncomfortably by his pants against his belly. He wriggled his hips
forward until he met Edmund's answering hardness.
"Please, can't we...?"
It wasn't all that he wanted from Edmund, not by a long shot, although he was
still nervous about the following day despite his desire. Yet since they were
alone together, so close that he could see the spot of stubble under Edmund's
jaw that he had missed while shaving, smell the scent of Edmund's sweat on his
skin, Eustace wanted to do something now, at least.
"Eustace, I... oh, bugger it. All right." Edmund put his hand on Eustace's bum,
kneading it, pulling them even closer. "Just like this, though, we can't take
anything off, not here."
"No," Eustace agreed. He kissed Edmund again, frantically, feeling as though he
might explode with pleasure -- and then he did, undone by the thought that he
was really here, with Edmund, that Edmund was feeling just as aroused as
Eustace himself. He shuddered and clenched at Edmund's shoulders, a hoarse
whimper forcing its way out of his throat as the sticky heat pulsed damp into
his pants.
Edmund was still rocking his hips, thrusting against Eustace, and Eustace held
on, pushing back, until Edmund stiffened and hissed and Eustace knew that he
had come too.
They lay together for a while, until Edmund pointed out that Eustace had better
put in an appearance, and then hastily cleaned up a bit and went downstairs.
Peer was still at his parents' for the holidays, but Susan had gone. When
Eustace asked at dinner, Aunt Bea explained that Susan had several social
engagements with her young man, so it made sense for her to be back at the flat
she shared in London with another girl instead.
Apparently Lucy had told her mother that Eustace would eat meat if his own
parents weren't around, for Aunt Bea hadn't made anything special for him, just
handed round the bowls and platters with a smile and let him take what he
liked.
After dinner Uncle Stephen read the evening paper and Aunt Bea listened to a
programme on the wireless, and Eustace and his three cousins sat around the
table, ostensibly playing Spillikins but in reality talking in low voices about
Narnia. Eustace sat beside Edmund on one long side of the table, and after a
bit he felt Edmund's knee press against his own.
They walked to the train station not too early the next morning, through a
dense chilly mist that had rimed every leaf and twig with white frost.
"We'll go to Reginald's flat first," said Edmund. "We don't want to be carrying
our overnight cases around the city, even if we could check them with our coats
at the museum."
Eustace nodded, feeling shy again. He would have liked to take Edmund's hand
for comfort, but knew that they didn't dare risk being seen so. Instead he let
their legs press together again and looked out the train window at the roads
and buildings slipping by.
Reginald's flat, when they reached it, proved to be in a dingy building that
looked as if it had been damaged during the war and repaired rather hastily
afterward. Once upon a time, Eustace thought, it might have had a porter at the
entrance, but now there was a set of doorbells instead. Edmund ignored those,
reaching into his pocket for the keys that Reginald had sent him and unlocking
the door as if he did this regularly.
"He's at the top of the building, fourth floor," said Edmund, and they climbed
the four flights of stairs, Eustace following Edmund.
"You've been here before?" he ventured.
"Yes." Edmund was fumbling a little with the key to the flat in the dim light
of the hallway. At last he flung the door open. "Not with Reggie though, if you
know what I mean. He and I have always been just good friends."
"Of course." Eustace felt a little ashamed to have doubted Edmund's constancy
to Caspian... although Edmund wasn't going to be faithful anymore, was he? That
was the whole point of them being here today. He shook his head to clear his
muddled thoughts.
"Eustace." Edmund had put down his overnight case, and now he came to Eustace
and took his away too, setting it beside his own. "Eustace. Do you want to go
out to the museum right away, or would you rather stop here for a little
first?"
Eustace took a breath. Edmund was standing close enough that he could smell the
scent of the soap with which he'd washed his face that morning, and a prickle
of sweat below that. Edmund's eyes were patient, waiting for him to answer.
"Let's stay here," he managed to say at last.
"Marvellous." Edmund smiled and put his arm around Eustace, guiding him toward
the spare room. "We'll have plenty of time after lunch to go out."
It was odd, undressing in the unfamiliar room, and in front of Edmund, and
Eustace was briefly worried that Edmund would look at him and find him lacking,
but by the time he was naked Edmund was too, and pulled him into an embrace.
The feel of bare warm skin all along his body was unbelievable; at Experiment
House he and Jill had rarely had the time or opportunity to be completely naked
like this, and moreover this was Edmund, and he could feel Edmund's prick
hardening against him, twin to his own growing excitement.
"You said you'd never done this before?" Edmund murmured against Eustace's
neck. His lips travelled along the skin to the hollow of Eustace's throat where
he sucked gently, so as not to leave a visible mark.
"Not with another bloke." Eustace shivered at the sensation of Edmund's lips
and tongue, which were sending delightful shocks along his nerves.
"Mm. Well. I'm going to be blunt then and ask you if you'd rather fuck me, have
me fuck you, or something else -- we could suck each other off, too, or just do
what we did yesterday and rub off against each other." Edmund's hands rubbed
along Eustace's back, down to his arse and cupping his cheeks. "I leave it up
to you to decide this first time."
Eustace swallowed. He had always imagined Edmund taking him, somehow, although
he had of course been in the opposite role with Jill. It was unexpectedly
tempting, the idea of having Edmund below him... but then, he thought it might
be more complicated with a man, and he didn't want to risk hurting Edmund or
even just leaving him unsatisfied.
"Please, I want you to f-fuck me," he stuttered, his voice breaking alarmingly.
"This time."
Edmund chuckled kindly at that, and said, "We can perhaps try it the other way
around tonight, then, if you like. Let me just get what we'll need from my bag,
then." He disappeared briefly, coming back with a jar of petroleum jelly which
he set on the table beside the bed. He laughed a little, and then looked sad,
and Eustace asked what he was thinking about.
Flushing, Edmund said, "I was Caspian's first, too, or I think I was." He bit
his lip. "I know that he admired Peter, but I don't know for certain what he
did or didn't do about that."
"Was Caspian the first you slept with?" Eustace asked.
"Oh, no." Edmund shook his head. "I don't know what it's like at your school,
but mine, perhaps because it was all boys, kept up some of those not-so-fine
traditions where older boys choose younger ones to be their fags: shine their
shoes, make their toast, and some other "services" as well. I managed to be
chosen by a relatively decent fellow, and when I was one of the senior boys I
refused to have a fag myself. They let me get away with it mostly I suppose
because I was good at rugby and fencing. Anyway. You don't want to hear about
all that."
"I'd like to know about you," Eustace contradicted, but he wasn't so keen on
hearing Edmund's stories of his school days just then that he objected when
Edmund tugged him over to the bed.
"Help me," said Edmund, and together they turned back the bedclothes and slid
into the clean white sheets. Edmund's lips were firm-soft as he kissed
Eustace's throat. When he licked at the hollows of Eustace's collarbones,
Eustace gasped and clutched at him.
"T-tickles."
"All right." Edmund moved lower, then, until his teeth grazed Eustace's left
nipple, suckling and biting at it until it was swollen and tender, and then
moving to do the same to the right one. Eustace gave himself up to the
sensation, so much so that he was surprised when Edmund's lips found his again.
He kissed back, trying to convey all the excitement and desire that he felt.
Edmund's legs were entwined with his own, and Eustace rocked his hips, seeking
friction against Edmund's sweat-damp skin.
"Slow down a bit, there's no rush," Edmund told him, and Eustace felt a little
ashamed of his impatience.
"Soon? Please?" he begged, and Edmund kissed him again.
"I suppose in your position I wouldn't want to wait either. Right. It'll
probably be easier, not so awkward for you, if you roll over and get on your
hands and knees."
As Eustace did so, Edmund reached for the little jar, opening it and dipping
his fingers in.
"This is much better than what I had with Caspian," he remarked. "I'm putting
some on me, but I'm going to use it on you, too, to stretch and relax you a bit
so that it won't hurt, or at least, not much. Often it does hurt the first
time, but if it's bad, tell me and I'll stop. All right?"
"All right." It felt very odd to have his arsehole touched by someone else.
Jill had been happy to play with his prick and bollocks, but she'd never shown
any interest in reaching further back, and Eustace had been shy of asking her
to do so. His own solo experimenting had been quite limited. Thus when Edmund's
questing finger found his prostate, Eustace nearly jumped off the bed at the
unexpected sensation. He knew what it was -- Harold owned an anatomy text that
Eustace had often looked at -- but he hadn't realised that it could feel like
this.
"Oh -- Edmund --"
"Good, eh?" Edmund brushed over the spot again. "Some fellows don't like it, I
guess, but I'm glad you're not one of them."
Oddly, or so Eustace thought, his erection flagged while Edmund was stimulating
his arse, but he didn't mind that; he'd worried that he might come much sooner
than Edmund did.
"I think you're ready now," said Edmund.
"Yes. Yes, please." Eustace couldn't quite add, "I need you," though that was
what he was thinking.
Edmund kissed Eustace's shoulder, and then knelt up behind him. Eustace could
feel the blunt head of Edmund's cock, wider and yet softer than his fingertips,
nudging Eustace's arsehole. He swallowed and tried hard to recapture the
pleasant excitement he'd just experienced, and bit by bit he felt Edmund slide
inside. There was fullness, and pressure, not bad but not quite good, either,
until Edmund began to move, and then it did feel good, although there was a
definite stretch and ache as well.
"Eustace --" Edmund's voice broke. "Oh --" his fingers dug into Eustace's hips,
and he began to thrust more quickly. The faster pace made Eustace feel a little
sore, but not enough to want to tell Edmund to stop, not when he felt proud to
be making Edmund so aroused that he couldn't quite control himself.
So Eustace hung on, his hands gripping the sheets below him, making sounds of
encouragement, until Edmund came with a groan that sounded torn from his
throat.
"Eustace, Eustace, I'm sorry," he said after a moment, and withdrew. He put his
arms around Eustace's waist and rolled them over so that they were spooned
together, Edmund's hands busy stroking Eustace's cock back to hardness and then
to orgasm, spilling into Edmund's palm. Eustace felt the trickle of Edmund's
come on his thigh, and thought that they were each marked by the other.
"I meant to be gentler," Edmund apologised. "You felt so good, though... I'm
sorry."
Eustace brought one of Edmund's hands to his lips and kissed it, tasting
himself on Edmund's skin. "It's fine, Edmund. Honestly." He smiled and kissed
Edmund's fingertips again. "I'd rather be a little sore from being with you
then have had a perfect experience with anyone else, don't you know that?"
He felt Edmund sigh and press his cheek against Eustace's shoulder.
They dozed a little then, before getting up and cleaning each other with a
dampened face cloth from the stack of towels that Reginald had thoughtfully
left out for them.
On the way to the museum Eustace kept sneaking glances at Edmund and blushing,
and Edmund had a rather foolish grin on his face as well.
"I can't quite like the animal exhibits these days the way I did when I was
young," Edmund confessed. "It isn't as though they were Talking Animals, of
course, but they always remind me of the way that the White Witch turned
Narnians who resisted her to stone."
Eustace nodded sympathetically, and by mutual agreement they left those rooms
and went to look at the fossils instead.
Harold had given Eustace money to take both Edmund and Reginald out to dinner
as a thank-you. Since Reginald wasn't there, they decided that it would be all
right to have an extra-nice meal for the two of them, including a couple of
glasses of beer apiece, and so they were slightly tipsy when they finally
returned to Reginald's flat.
"Eustace," said Edmund as they flung themselves down on chairs, Eustace feeling
rather giddy with all the pleasures of the day.
"Yes?"
"I just wanted to say thanks." Edmund looked a little embarrassed. "For, well,
telling me that you fancy me. I might have moped around for ages longer without
ever doing anything to cheer myself up. Which would have been foolish; Caspian
married Ramandu's daughter, they had a son, he lived a long and good life. It
would have been stupid of me not to let myself do the same. Well, not marry
perhaps, but live, properly, not just... exist. And you're -- well, I can't say
I would have thought on my own of taking up with you, but I'm glad it's
happening."
Edmund's face was so earnest in the harsh electric light that Eustace was moved
to go sit at his feet and rest his head against Edmund's knee.
"I was jealous of what you and Caspian had together," he admitted, "but I never
begrudged you it, not really. I could see how happy you made each other, and I
wished I could be part of such happiness, you understand?"
Edmund stroked Eustace's hair. "Yes. I'm a little surprised you didn't fancy
Caspian, rather than me. He was handsomer..."
"He was a king," said Eustace, as if that explained anything.
At Edmund's laugh, Eustace realised what he'd said. "Not that you weren't -
- aren't -- a king as well," he said hastily. "But it was different, somehow,
perhaps because he was actually ruling at the time, whereas you were sort of
retired. You were younger than Caspian, too, nearer my own age, and British,
and... well, I felt I understood you better. It was easier to fall in love with
you."
The final words came out of his mouth before he could check or censor them.
There was a pause, and then Edmund said, "Thank you, Eustace. I can't say that
I'm 'in love' with you quite yet, but I do love you, you must believe me when I
say that." His voice trembled slightly and Eustace reached for the hand that
had been stroking his hair and kissed it.
"I believe you," he whispered.
With a shaky laugh, Edmund said, "Good."
They sat like that for a while, simply enjoying being close. Presently Eustace
said, "Shall we, that is, do you want to go to bed?"
"To sleep?" said Edmund in a teasing voice.
"Sleep afterward," said Eustace firmly.
The bed was still tumbled from their earlier encounter, but that merely made it
easier to fall into it and start kissing, urgent but unhurried, until they were
both breathing hard with the need to do more. Then Edmund showed Eustace what
to do, and it was not so very different from being with Jill after all, Eustace
thought as the clinging heat of Edmund's arse embraced his cock. He wished he
could see that Edmund's face better, but Edmund had suggested that it would be
easiest for Eustace to take him the same way he had taken Eustace that morning,
and that another time they could try something a bit different. Eustace had
been so pleased to hear Edmund casually assume that there would be future times
together, many of them, that he went along willingly with Edmund's advice.
It took a good deal of effort, but Eustace was able to heed Edmund's
instructions and angle his thrusts to give his cousin the greatest pleasure,
although Edmund stroked his own cock as Eustace fucked him. When Edmund came,
his arse clenched around Eustace's prick in a rippling rhythm that caught
Eustace by surprise and brought him to climax too.
"So, granted that you've only tried it each way once, do you prefer to be top
or bottom?" Edmund asked as they lay curled up together, after they had cleaned
their teeth and put on their pyjamas and crawled back into bed.
"I'm not really sure." Eustace wriggled a little to get the pillow in a more
comfortable position. "Either way was better than with a girl, though. Not that
I didn't enjoy that, mind you, but this was definitely a greater pleasure for
me."
"How many girls have you been with?" Edmund's question was friendly.
"Just one."
"Jill. It was Jill, wasn't it." Edmund didn't really ask it as question. He had
met Jill before while visiting the Scrubbs, for Jill's parents also lived in
Cambridge. "I hope you and she are square about that, though."
"Oh yes, we are," Eustace assured him. "We both wanted to learn what it was all
about, and since we're good friends, it seemed sensible to practise with each
other."
Edmund chuckled. "I don't suppose that whoever named Experiment House expected
that there would be that kind of experimenting going on. Though perhaps they
did expect it since it's a mixed school."
"Anyhow," Eustace said, "Jill and I aren't, never were, boyfriend-girlfriend in
the usual way. So that's all right."
They stayed awake until the small hours of morning, talking of everything and
nothing, of university life and Narnia and what their respective families would
think if it were ever discovered that they were queer. Edmund thought that his
brother and sisters would be all right with it, although he wasn't sure about
his parents.
"I don't honestly know," said Eustace thoughtfully, lying with an arm flung
over Edmund's chest, his head pillowed on Edmund's shoulder. "Harold likes to
claim that he's an advanced thinker, not tied to convention and tradition, but
I just don't know how he'd react to having his only child turn out a poofter.
And Alberta is likely to go along with whatever he says."
"It isn't as if we're planning to make any sort of public announcement, after
all," said Edmund. "I mean, you're still in school, for one thing. If we stay
together -- and I don't know why we mightn't -- once you've finished at
university would be soon enough."
Eustace nodded and yawned, a rush of contentment going through him at Edmund's
words.
"When is your train tomorrow?" asked Edmund.
"8.52 from King's Cross," answered Eustace.
"And it's," Edmund peered at the alarm clock, "goodness, it's nearly three
right now. We'd better get some sleep."
Eustace only just caught his train in the morning. They said their good-byes in
Reginald's flat, which Edmund was going to tidy up before he left, and then
Eustace hurried away.
===============================================================================

The rest of the winter holidays passed quickly. Eustace had a letter from
Edmund two days after his return to Cambridge, in which Edmund suggested that
they might write to each other until the Easter holiday. He hoped they would be
able to meet then, although they probably wouldn't be so lucky as to be able to
have much private time together again.
Eustace was delighted to take up the offer and wrote Edmund regularly
throughout the term, two or sometimes three times each week. Edmund's replies
were not quite as frequent, but equally passionate.
Jill, quite naturally, asked Eustace if he had told his cousin about his
feelings over the Christmas hols, and Eustace, blushing, let her know that not
only had he told Edmund, but he'd done something about it.
"I suppose that means you won't want to spend time with me anymore," said Jill,
looking at her feet as she scuffed up fir needles. They were walking over the
grounds at Experiment House on a damp and cold January day.
"Well..." Eustace felt a little embarrassed. "Not like we were doing, probably,
but I still think of you as my closest friend, Jill."
They walked silently for a little while, hands shoved deep in their pockets,
their breaths blowing out in clouds of steam from their cold-reddened faces.
"I wonder if we'll ever go back to Narnia," said Jill presently, her voice
wistful. "Aslan told your cousins when it was their last time, and he never
told us that, but it's been years now. So perhaps we won't."
"I don't know," Eustace said. "Oh, I say, Edmund wrote me that he had a letter
from Professor Kirke, inviting the Pevensies and you and me to his house to
spend the day, Monday in Easter week I think it is. So we can all at least talk
about Narnia, even if we're not there."
"That'll be fun," said Jill after a moment, and she slipped her hand into
Eustace's pocket to enlace her fingers with his.
===============================================================================

At Professor Kirke's house the vision of someone who was clearly a Narnian
king, for he had a look that was recognisably that of one of Caspian's line,
made Jill insist that they were being summoned by Aslan.
"But why wouldn't he just fetch us himself, then, as he did before?" asked
Eustace.
Lucy shook her head. "He doesn't ever do things the same way twice," she said.
"Perhaps it's because you're older, and he expects you to work out how to get
there yourselves."
"But I've no idea how we can," said Eustace, exasperated. "Professor, do you
still have the wardrobe that my cousins used on their first visit?"
"Yes, but it's never done anything since. I don't think you can use that," the
Professor said.
"You remember, Digory," said Miss Plummer, or rather Aunt Polly, as she had
asked all the younger folk to call her that, "how we first got there by using
your Uncle Andrew's Rings."
"Those would work, but I haven't had them since our adventure," said the
Professor. "I buried them in the garden, and the London house was sold many
years ago."
"Assuming they're still there, Edmund and I will get them for you," said Peter
firmly.
Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, and he raised his eyebrows.
"What? Professor Kirke may have buried them, but they can still be rightly
considered his property. It's just a question of retrieving them from where he
left them. Now, it might be difficult to explain, so I think the best plan
would be to dress up as workmen and make out as if we're looking into the
drains or something. That would give us an excuse to be digging around.
Professor, if you can draw us a sketch of the garden and show approximately
where the rings ought to be, that will make it easier."
"I won't be able to get down to London for at least a few days," said Edmund.
"I'm studying for examinations and I've scheduled extra supervisions for
tomorrow and the next day. I can't miss those."
"That Narnian, whoever he was, looked quite urgent," objected Jill, but Peter
overruled her.
"Remember, time in Narnia and time here don't follow the same rules. We have no
idea how long it will be in Narnia even if we were to take a fortnight here."
Everyone agreed, then, to the High King's plan.
"From what I understand, it wouldn't be safe to send the Rings through the
post," said Peter. "Ed and I will bring them up to you two, assuming we do find
them. One of us will wire and let you know."
In due course came the wire to say that Peter and Edmund had the Rings. They
were to give them over the day when Jill and Eustace were supposed to be going
back to school, which made it rather convenient since they could all meet at
one of the stations along the way, and Lucy and the Professor and Aunt Polly
decided to travel with them too. Before the train had stopped, though, suddenly
there was a bump and Eustace and Jill were in Narnia instead, though quite how
it happened neither of them understood.
King Tirian was a splendid chap in his own way, and Eustace was glad to do
whatever he could do help him, but he did secretly think it a bit hard that for
all he was now on his third visit to Narnia, he'd never had the chance to see
any of its kings in their rightful place at Cair Paravel. Until almost the last
night, when they fought in front of the Stable, he hoped that perhaps they
would come up with a strategy to defeat the Calormenes and their plan to take
over Narnia, but by the time the defenders of Narnia regrouped for their second
sally, Eustace knew there was no hope. He swallowed hard and wished Jill luck,
thinking how very alone she looked as she went to shoot, and determining that
at least he would sell his own life as dearly as possible. More than anything
else, however, he wished that he could have seen Edmund again to say goodbye.
It was good to have a straight Narnian sword in his fist again instead of the
curved one he had borne as part of his disguise for several days, and Eustace
fought hard. He killed at least two of the enemy, and had knocked down a third
but wasn't certain if the thrust had been true, when he was seized from behind
and disarmed. He struggled, but was lifted and thrown bodily into the Stable
where they had seen the spirit of Tash enter.
Eustace shook his head to clear it. Stable? Yet now he stood in sunlight, as
fresh and rested as if he had had a long sleep and a bath. Even his clothes
were not what he had been wearing, a mail shirt with quilted undergarments to
make it bearable, but rather clean comfortable leggings and tunic such as he
had worn on the Dawn Treader.
He looked around in wonder and saw -- it couldn't be? He saw Edmund and Lucy
and Peter, and the Professor and Aunt Polly as well.
They were talking excitedly amongst themselves when Jill appeared also, and
then Tirian, and it was rather overwhelming, though Eustace did his best to
sort things out for his own understanding. The oddness of it all seemed less
important when Aslan appeared.
The destruction of Narnia that followed was almost unbearable to watch, and
Eustace was not ashamed of the tears that stood in his eyes as the land died.
He stood beside Edmund and they clasped hands for comfort, and then smiled at
each other in sheer delight when, travelling westward, they all realised they
now were in a truer Narnia still.
At the garden gates, when he saw Reepicheep, Eustace understood that Caspian,
too, must be here, and he wondered what Edmund might do, with both his loves
there, old and new.
He need not have worried. After the joys of greeting old friends had calmed,
Edmund came and found Eustace, and led him over to where Caspian waited, a
little apart.
"I will not choose between you," said Edmund soberly, "for I love you both and
I see no reason why I should choose. We have all the time there is to be
together. And Eustace -- look you to remain friends with Jill, as well, and
mayhap even her lover at times if she wish it and you are not unwilling."
Eustace took in a deep breath and let it out. "That I can do." He held out his
hand to Caspian, who first grasped it and then pulled him into an embrace,
whispering in his ear, "If Edmund loves you, why then, so shall I."
And so they did.
And they all lived happily ever after.
End Notes
     For realpestilence, for her livelongnmarry request. The title is
     taken from the Dream Academy song of the same name.
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