Voice;

Jul. 3rd, 2010 10:29 pm
wandbreaker: (Edmund - is this Narnia?)
[personal profile] wandbreaker
And if a squared equals the root sum of negative 5b over a plue three then in order to isolate...

[Pause]

Wha...

Snow?

Pete? Lu? Susan?

Can anyone...is anyone here?
From: [identity profile] oshutup.livejournal.com
Later on, after the reunion he stopped expecting but never stopped hoping for in this place between places, Peter shows Edmund the way to the room he kept during his previous stay. It has remained untouched for the most part where moving items around is concerned. Though Peter has visited the room--most often when he needed to focus his thoughts, to do more than think, to meditate to a degree on this or that--it has not been in him to try to move things around physically or otherwise regarding Edmund for a long, long time. The only thing he has picked up on occasion--and on such occasions, having already picked it up, dusted it off with his sleeve or shirttail--is the silver crown. It does not mean everything, hardly. A king is not defined by the tangible proof of his throne, but it means a great deal anyway to Peter. All of their crowns do, to him, especially since receiving them as the staying matter after one such 'curse' that wasn't a curse at all to him.

Of all the privileges this hodgepodge of worlds has given him, the two foremost in his heart are the ability to see those he would not otherwise have been able to see at all or again, and also the ability to be his whole self. Edmund understood perhaps most of Peter's distaste for the lie of boyhood thrown back upon him during a year in-between, with Lucy second most in her own way and Susan third through no fault of her own though at the time Peter could not take the time to channel his true age and admit that. He was bitter and he was angry and through those emotions he acted as young as he looked, younger even, embarrassingly, but to this day he does not think his reaction was wrong. How could it be? It couldn't be wrong not to understand what was never explained, but one of a few differences now is that the lack of understanding has been tempered with an equalizing sort of faith that one day he will. He does not believe this because it is right or wrong. As the kind of person that he became in Narnia--and just as important, the kind of person he was before and is now, some things ever changing and others that will now stay the same until the end of his days--he has to keep that faith.

It is a quiet presence, sometimes absolutely silent to the point of unhinging him still but now when he questions, he questions from a place of simply not knowing rather than the starker matter of doubt. Doubt is for the boy who didn't believe Lucy Pevensie when she told him about the wardrobe, for the boy who as good as drove his brother to betrayal, for the boy he hasn't been for some time but not terribly long ago revisited--caught between ages. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees two such ages in the Just despite the fact that he only wears one, just like Peter. But knowing makes every difference.

When they reach Edmund's quarters--made up of several rooms really in this much more expansive dwelling than the first--he does not open the door, merely stepping side and half nodding at it, which is as good as saying this has been yours and it still is.
From: [identity profile] oshutup.livejournal.com
"Now," he pauses, his posture casual but a definition of some kind of waiting in it. Not tension, but something that keeps it from being easy. "...well...there's getting used to it first, I suppose." Before living anyway, because it isn't as if this is all something they've done before. Certainly, passed through to another world, but a place where there is no prophecy or a kingdom to reclaim and rebuild and a new future to place on the throne--always their responsibility, one way or another; an honor, he once said to the great lion. It always will be.

His hand goes to the back of his neck, not uncomfortable but the sort of meaningless motion that takes up a pause instead of a shrug.

"I know it's strange." Unsettling. "When I first arrived, I had forgotten being here too. I still don't remember anything before then." He no longer frowns when he says this, though he remains displeased with it on the whole. Much better to remember all one does, all one experiences, isn't it? But it's out of his control as some very important things are, as are other things that are very much not. Balanced. Nowhere does he say 'it gets better', though it did for him, to the point that he could move beyond what he could not recall and focus on everything he could. With two years approaching this fall, he has enough to attribute it to, certainly. He also does not say 'give it time', because that's obvious and his brother will know it inherently. In fact, a great deal of what one might miss in the silence, in what Peter does not say, is the bulk of what between the two Pevensies is the actual communication. They have had years to learn the telling quirks of wordless conveying, making up in part for years of just the opposite--a lack of communication with plenty of words and most of them unkind, regrettable things.

What now, though. Indeed.

"Curses," he barely frowns, but it's enough to say he does not approve of the name for these as all of them are not unhappy things, but as they say 'majority rules', and that's what they've been called long before Peter fell into the picture (again). Explaining them earlier was both simple and irritating, as ever it is. To say these things in words is just not the equivalent to witnessing or experiencing them firsthand, but they all did their part in sharing what might be useful. "...aside," he continues. "We live, spend our time how we see fit." Working. Visiting the library. General exploring. Saying hello to the salamander named Salamander. For Peter, that's mostly it, and he knows it varies for each of the household as much as every individual in the City's entirety.
From: [identity profile] oshutup.livejournal.com
The laugh here is short, clipped even, but not forcibly so.

"No, no school," a pause as he corrects himself. "Well, there is a school, but from what I hear, its attendance is all of a handful of citizens." In short, it isn't mandatory here, and that much is a relief to Peter who has no interest in repeating too many aspects of growing up twice or three times. He will go to school in England, concentrate in medicine or perhaps teaching--something that facilitates a change involving improvement in the best cases and a matter of truth at bare minimum in the worst as far as he can tell, as far as he would treat it himself. The black cat on the bed pauses in the tail flicking to stretch his forward legs and invert his back in a reach articulated by a purr that is nearly visible. "That's Shadow, by the way." Peter refrains from pointing out the obvious; that being how it is likely Edmund will have to briefly fight for his bed back. Maybe. It depends on how lazy Shadow is or isn't, mostly.
From: [identity profile] oshutup.livejournal.com
Plenty of things ought to be said in life but there are nearly as many that do not need to be if one stops to think about them for a moment, or to consider their presence without the verbalization. Edmund doesn't need to apologize because it wasn't his fault in the first place, and as far as Peter is concerned that's that on the subject.

"Snowshoeing, if you like," he replies dryly and continues with barely a breath, "But no hurry." That is both true and terribly the opposite, but the latter cannot be helped. Even as Edmund could vanish, so too could Peter, could Susan, could Lucy, could Caspian. Any one of them. All of them. So it only makes sense enough to decide there is no rush on what precisely to do with one's time as long as one does something. Anything is better than nothing, barring a few of the obvious exceptions to the rule, none of which the Just is likely to endorse or involve himself in anyway.
From: [identity profile] oshutup.livejournal.com
Leaning in the doorway, arms folded, the blond smiles a little again, but this many half and quarter smiles manage to make up more than his usual share shown at all, outside of the usual suspects.

"I," he emphasizes, "Don't care much for snowshoeing," and his look here is wry because a joke is a joke is a joke---one he moves on from without pause, "But if the weather decides to catch back up to the proper season," and here is the pause. Said pause seamlessly transitions into a pointed nod and shrug, the equivalent to of course I will and we won't be getting lost anyway and the like. His gaze drops to the now rather attention-fed feline. "He favors your room regularly." This can also be read as you may have trouble reclaiming your bed, but Edmund will find that out sooner than later for himself.

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