~*~

Chapter Twenty

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It's quiet the entire train ride.

Emily's staring out the window, admiring the countryside, but has a troubled expression on her face. Peter's leg bounces up and down from nerves as he reads. Sometimes his eyes drift over to her, just to check up on her to make sure she's alright. He doesn't say anything, not trusting his voice. What could he have said to comfort her?

It's hard to tell what she's thinking or feeling. She's closed off from the world around her, always cautious around others. Which he understands. He understands that need to hide from the world. Maybe that's why they got along so well. They understood each other's pain. Maybe it's why he admires her so much.

The train comes to a slow stop and a man shouts "Coombe station!" at the top of his lungs to be heard over the whistle and squealing tires.

"Em?" he calls to her softly. She glances over at him but not into his eyes. She never does that to anyone, he notices. "We're here."

She purses her lips and nods her head. Emily gets up from her seat and swings a purple messenger bag over her shoulder. She reaches for the brown luggage above him on the rack but he stops her.

"May I?" he asks.

She stares at him with an unreadable expression on her face. She moves aside to let him get the heavy luggage. They quietly get off the train and begin their long walk across the dirt path and hilltops. He can see the manor from atop the hill, hiding in between the forest.

"This is where you live?" she gasps. Not in a distasteful way like how Margot reacted to the bakery.

"Only until I graduate from Uni," he admits with a bashful smile.

"This place is magnificent," Emily says, glancing up at the tall ceilings, and statues in awe. "I can't imagine walking down that road every day for school. I don't think I'd ever want to leave."

She stops, right at the same place where he and his siblings found the wardrobe. She's frowning at the door and her eyes narrow.

"What's wrong?" Peter asks softly.

She jumps, glancing over his way, "N-nothing, I-I just--" she stammers. "Peter... what's in this room?"

He stiffens, glancing over at the door. Just like the other day, he can see the professor's shadow on the other side of the door.

"Nothing," Peter sighs wistfully. "Just an empty room with an old wardrobe. Why?"

"There's strong magic in there," Emily admits. "I've never felt anything like it. Not sense..."

Not sense Selcarim?

"The professor's in there if that helps any," at her look of confusion, he adds, "he's been to another world too. Just like Edmund, Lucy, and I."

Her eyes flicker in recognistion and she glances over at the room once more.

"C'mon," he urges her away from the door. "We don't want to disturb him. I'll have to tell him about your visit later."

"Why not now?" Emily asks, glancing at the door curiously.

"Just one of the rules," Peter vaguely answers. "He can be stuck there for hours."

"What do you usually do around here?" She asks, not unkindly. "Do you always go to that secret room?"

"Come on, I know somewhere we can go," Peter grins.

She stares at him curiously after placing her luggage in the library and following after him out of the manor, towards the stable where four horses stood, eating oats. She stares at them with wide eyes before turning to Peter.

"We can ride them?!" She asks excitedly. He nods his head, chuckling at her giddiness.

He smiles at her as she attempts to get on top of the horse. The horse kicks up on its hind legs, neighing loudly, and breaks off into a run.

"Emily!" He cries out in a panic.

She comes back, smiling at him mischeviously. He tries to calm down his frantic breathing, sighing with relief.

"I do know how to ride a horse, you know," Emily says nonchalantly as if she didn't nearly give him a heart attack. "Winged horses, remember?"

"You little sneak!" He laughs.

She shrugs. Her blue eyes are dancing with amusement as she urges the horse to gallop forward. He follows after her, until they stop by the river in the woods. He counts out loud to three as they spread the red blanket with a faded golden lion print across the grass. Emily places a basket of breads and desserts on the edge.

"I like it here," she admits. "It's so much more open and free. Not like the bakery."

"I can't imagine what that's like," Peter admits. "You'd get to eat all the dessert you want without having to pay for it."

She giggles at that,"there are rules, you know," she tosses bread crumbs at him.

"Hey!" Peter protests, laughing as he brushes the crumbs off his white shirt.

At least he'd gotten her to smile.

"You didn't listen to Margot," she says. "When she told you I was a freak. Or Brandon. I overheard you two, sorry. You're both quite loud."

"It's alright," Peter tells her. "I meant what I said. I don't think you're a freak."

There's a ghost of a smile on her face but it doesn't reach her eyes. She glances over at the rushing water and dips her fingers across it, close enough that she can reach the edge of the river.

"I've always known I was different," she says softly. She watches the water drip from her fingers. "Even before papa went off to war. I think he knew too. They all just didn't want to say anything to hurt me."

"People don't really like different," she continues. "Even if they say they do, they really don't mean it. They want the same things over and over again becsuse they're familiar with it."

"You're right," Peter agrees. "They always say be yourself. But what they really mean is 'be the person they want to see.'"

"How do you handle it so well?" Emily asks. "You're from another world yet you act so normal, people like you. I'm from another world, yet I can't act normal. I'm not even sure if I want to be."

"Well, I don't care that you're different," Peter tells her honestly. "No matter how many times people tell me otherwise. I'll still like you."

She leans forward and her lips gently brush against his cheeks. Peter jumps away, startled by the smooth touch. He stares at her with wide eyes. She notices and averts her gaze, cheeks turn a faint red.

"I wanted to try doing more things that scared me," she confesses. "That scares me."

He's speechless. Did that--did that mean--? He couldn't even finish his thoughts, it had been so sudden. Every time he thinks he's figured her out, she manages to surprise him. He gently grasps her arm. She jumps at his touch as well but doesn't pull away. She glances up at him, staring right into his eyes. It's the first time she's ever looked at anyone properly. His thumb brushes a strand of hair that's fallen into her eyes.

"May I --?" He asks hesitantly. He leans forward, so close that their foreheads are almost touching.

She doesn't answer right away. She pulls away and there's a distant look in her eyes as if she were having an inner debate with herself. Emily glances up at him once more, right into his eyes again as if she were searching for an answer from him. She nods her head and that was all the encouragement Peter needed.

He leans forward and brushes his lips softly against hers.

He got a wiff of vanilla which is probably from living in a bakery for so long. She gasps softly, sitting still after almost stumbling back. Their noses bump awkwardly.

"That scares me too," Peter admits breathlessly. "Sorry for bumping your nose."

She bursts into giggles.

They were broken apart by a loud, obnoxious cough from behind. Peter whirls around, staring right into the green eyes of Macready who's sitting on top of her own horse, frowning at both of them. Oops. He almost forgot about her.

"Um, hi?" Peter waves at her awkwardly. Emily raises her eyebrows at the old woman.

"Is that Macready?" Emily asks, nudging his arm. "Old bat Macready?"

Peter shakes his head, eyes widening. He slowly turns towards the old woman with a sheepish smile on his face. She sends a nasty glare his way.

"Come with me," she commands.

"Yes ma'am," Peter says. He grasps Emily's hand in his own, helping back on her horse, and they follow Macready back towards the manor.

"Absolutely revolting!" Macready exclaims. "Bringing a complete stranger for the weekend without permission, using the river for their lovenest, takin' advantage--!"

"To be fair, we really weren't doing anything that bad," Peter raises his hands meekly, trying to ignore his burning cheeks.

"Shut it, Pevensie, you're already on my list!" She scolds. If looks could kill... "Don't make it worse! I can't believe you'd bring someone here without the professor's permission-no, actually, I can believe it, I had my suspicions about you Pevensies from day one! Absolutely--!"

"But I knew about her coming, Mrs. Macready," the professor interrupts. His blue eyes dance with mischief. She stares at him incredulously. Her jaw drops before muttering a soft "oh". "There's absolutely no reason to be upset."

"Just make sure this doesn't happen again!" Macready shouts. "And for God's sake, use a room next time!" Which makes both Emily and Peter blush.

"Yes, ma'am,"the two say shyly.

The air is thick with tension even after Macready leaves the study.

"You knew, professor?" Peter repeats with a small grin.

"This'll be our little secret," the professor winks at him. "Now, Miss Emily Jones is it?"

"Yes, sir," Emily says softly.

"First of all," the professor says sternly. "Does your bakery have any custard tarts or mince pies?"

Emily looks taken aback by the question but a smile spreads across her lips as she nods, "yes, sir."

"I think I shall purchase some in the near future, just be aware" he returns the grin. "Now, how much do you know about other worlds?"

She turns towards Peter with surprise written on her face. He winks cheekily and nods at the professor.

"Plenty, sir!" Emily exclaims happily. She reaches for Peter's hand the moment he sits next to her.

~*~

GayathriK: So about the owls, for future reference, she thinks of herself as an owl because of her father, he saw her as one since she stayed up so late and has trouble sleeping. And because of the unusal condition she has that no one except her family knows about, when she asks "Do you like barn owls?" she really means "Do you like me?" in her own way because she wants people to like her. :) Also, she and Brandon literally created Selcarim when they were younger to escape the war. Brandon just forgot when he joined the military. I'm actually confused about where the countryside is in England myself. I imagined their school being close by the Professor's but far enough he has to tske the train there.