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THE FOLLOWING morning we break camp early, as promised. King Peter is the first to be up and about, followed by myself, thanks to my acute hearing. I have to prod Edmund awake as he sleeps like a log — much like Caspian, I realize. Lucy laughs and tells me it's normal, then proceeds to recount all the many times her brother's heavy sleeping was the cause of something hilarious. Nobody minds Lucy's excited storytelling; we're all glad for the entertainment as we gather our supplies and prepare for the long day's trek.
After a brief disagreement between Peter and Trumpkin that I make a point to avoid, the High King leads the way through the woods, heading south toward the Lost Rocks. Susan and Lucy follow close behind while I walk beside Edmund and Trumpkin brings up the rear. The dwarf doesn't seem very happy about the direction we're headed, and I assume that was the topic of his discussion with the King earlier. I don't address it. Instead, I give him space and happily make conversation with the Pevensies.
Mostly, it's just me and Edmund talking and laughing. Occasionally, Lucy joins in with a story or something of the sort, and Susan asks a question or adds on to something someone said and everyone laughs. Other times, we hike in silence through the trees, listening to the whispering of the breeze through the leaves and the singing of birds and insects. I like the silence and the calm — it gives me an opportunity to appreciate the little things: like how the sun falls in beautiful, dappled patterns across the vibrant forest floor; how my whole chest feels incredibly warm when Edmund bumps his shoulder against mine as we walk. Sometimes, he tries to trip me, instead and I elbow him in the ribs. They're like little reminders for both of us. I'm still here.
I like the silence and the calm, but I love talking to the Pevensie siblings. I love hearing about their lives and learning all the small details about each of them.
I ask Edmund all about his strange world and his family, whom I've come to know surprisingly well in such a short amount of time, and he asks about my life — growing up living two different lives in the Narnian forest and the Telmarine castle. He never seems to run out of exciting tales from the Golden Age, or a place they call England. And with everything he tells me, my curiosity and longing to know more grows like wildfire. Everything from the way he speaks to the sound of his laughter strikes a chord in my heart and makes me smile.
The light in his eyes and the excitement in his voice when he speaks about something he loves; the way he angles his body and walks with a lightness to his gait in favour of speaking with his hands; the way the sunlight brings out tiny freckles on his face and turns his irises this wonderful, golden brown colour. And what I love most is the warm, beautiful smile he gives me whenever I speak or laugh, like my voice is his favourite song.
Just outside of the confines of the Lost Rocks, we stop for a quick break at an apple tree Susan spots. While we pick and eat the fresh fruit, Lucy initiates a game called I Spy. I've never heard of it, but the principle seems simple enough: everyone guesses her chosen object based on the colour she reveals it to be. Edmund is shocked to hear I've never played before when I ask if my interpretation of the rules is correct. This piques the others' attention and Lucy excitedly explains the game to me and Trumpkin. I suspect the dwarf caught on just as quickly as I did, but we both listen patiently, then join in.
