(Untitled)

[iustus_rex]

Edmund's notebook is open, showing a half-made list in the tidy, cramped handwriting of someone who endured any number of penmanship lessons. Every so often he adds another item: Pastels (messy) or Group mural? (ask Tom or Door) or Fingerpainting (messier, but good when they're excited)Mostly, though, he's neglecting this list in favor of

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[takiena_called]

Finn's watching curiously from a table near by. Edmund's the second person he's seen sketching here. He doesn't exactly mean to stare, but from what he can see of the drawing it look interesting.

[iustus_rex]

Edmund's used to being watched, even just as Edmund Pevensie of England -- drawing in public places often attracts attention -- but he does notice.

And, after a few minutes, offers the boy a small smile of greeting.

[takiena_called]

Finn smiles back, a bit embarassed.

"You're a good artist."

[iustus_rex]

"Practice," says Edmund, slightly self-deprecating.

"That's all."

It's not all, but it is a fair bit of it. Natural talent is one thing, but he has sketchbooks upon sketchbooks of clumsy early drawings.

[takiena_called]

"I hope so," Finn says, with a bit of a grin, "otherwise there'd not be much hope if you weren't any good."

[iustus_rex]

Edmund laughs.

"Well said. Do you draw?"

[takiena_called]

"Sometimes," Finn says. "Not...really on paper, unless we've some scrap. More drawing things in snow."

He shrugs, a bit embarassed.

[iustus_rex]

"Better than nothing," Edmund says cheerfully, to deflect the embarrassment.

"Though I suppose you could get paper here, if you liked."

"I'm Edmund," he adds, as an afterthought. "Pevensie."

[takiena_called]

"Finn dan Shahar," he replies. "From Brennin, in Fionavar. It's good to meet you, Mister Edmund."

[iustus_rex]

"Just Edmund's fine." He's not that much older than Finn, in one sense -- although in another he is, and if Finn persists Edmund won't necessarily correct him again.

And Finn's clothes aren't exactly Narnian, but they're more Narnian than 20th century English. These things have an effect, sometimes, on how old Edmund feels and acts.

"From London -- well, Finchley -- in England, on Earth. Or from Narnia, if you like. Pleased to meet you, Finn."

[takiena_called]

"Are those two different worlds, or is Narnia somehwere else on Earth?"

[iustus_rex]

Finn, Edmund notices with approval, is quick. This sentiment may show slightly.

"Different worlds. I was born in England, but my siblings and I spent several years in Narnia."

[takiena_called]

He figured it would have gone before "from Earth" if it was a country.

"Did a mage take you?" Finn asks, with some awe.

[iustus_rex]

"No. Aslan did -- the Lion."

There's a warmth in Edmund's voice and eyes that's rarely there so clearly, when he speaks of Aslan.

[takiena_called]

"I don't know of him." There's a bit of apology about the tone, because it sounds as if Edmund thinks very well of this Lion. "Is that a title?"

[iustus_rex]

"Not really. He has them -- he's lots of names. But he's the Lion."

"Not like any lion, you know. Not dumb, and not tame. He's wilder than anything. But utterly good; you've never seen anything half so good."