Sometimes Lucy really didn't know what to think about Edmund. She was constantly torn between whether she should slap him or hug him.

He was absolutely horrid to her at times. She hated it when he stole food from her plate at dinner and when he hid her stuffed animals just to irritate her. She hated it when he tugged on her ponytails and how he laughed at her when she did something wrong or got into trouble.

But there were times when Edmund was good to her. It was during these times when he would allow her to give him a hug and sometimes a kiss on the cheek. During these times, he'd grumble only a little when she asked him to play games with her or to read her a story before she went to bed. And he would even smile a bit when she held his hand as they walked to school.

Occasionally Lucy would talk to her other siblings about her Edmund dilemma (that is, the constant internal struggle between slapping him or hugging him), but it didn't help very much. For Peter and Susan, though they agreed on a lot, had extremely different points of view on the subject.

"Oh, Lu!" Susan would say primly, patting her hand. "Don't let yourself think such things as slapping Ed! He's your brother and you love him. And besides, he only does those things for attention. Best just to hug him." Peter on the other hand was always in a row with Edmund so he would respond with a simple, "Oh, go ahead, Lu, slap the insufferable twit silly."

At which point the two of them would begin to argue and Lucy wound up back where she started.

Lucy's thoughts were straying to this very subject one fine Wednesday morning. She had just sat down to breakfast, and was enjoying it very much, when Edmund waltzed right over to her and took a sausage right off of her plate. "Ed!" she whined, as he stuffed it into his mouth, smirking at her.

"Morning, Lu," he said and she quite felt like slapping him. But just as they were about to head off to school, he handed her the notebook she had left in her bedroom, then offered her his hand to hold. And at that moment, she felt like hugging him.

That day during break time, in which everyone was allowed to go outside and stretch their legs, Lucy sat by herself reading a book. While she wasn't as smart as Peter, she did enjoy reading like he did, and could always lose herself in a story. Su said it was because she had a vivid imagination; Ed said it was because she was a bore.

Anyway, she was just sitting there minding her own business, when a tall, chunky boy approached her and tore the book from her hands. "Whatcha readin'?" he said nastily, flipping through the book's pages. He was a lot older than she was - probably older than Peter - and very intimidating.

Lucy's cheeks grew red with anger. "Nothing that would interest you, I'm sure!" she said hotly, trying to reach her book as he held it high above her head.

"Hey, I'll give it back!" said the boy. "If you give me your lunch."

Lucy glanced at her brown bag, full of a sandwich, apple, and potato chips, then back at the boy. "I certainly won't," she said, taking the bag and clutching it to her chest, trying not appear frightened by him.

"What's going on here?" Peter and Edmund had arrived, Susan following closely behind.

"I was just showing this boy my book," she lied. She knew that if she didn't, her brothers would do something dreadful and get them all into trouble.

"That's not what it looks like," said Peter disbelievingly. Edmund rolled up the sleeves of his white collared shirt.

"It really is," said Lucy, eyeing Edmund warily.

"Yeah," snarled the boy, "and she was just about to give me her lunch." He snatched up the brown bag.

"I don't think she was," Peter said, stating the obvious. For Lucy was now stamping her foot indignantly.

"Don't you have your own?" said Susan, her voice quivering a bit.

The boy faltered. The nastiness went out of his eyes and his shoulders slumped. "No!" he said loudly, and - to everyone's surprise - he began to cry. "We - my f-family are t-too poor to afford al-l-lot of food..."

The book dropped from his hands into the grass and he sniffled a great deal, then buried his face into Susan's shoulder. Oh, dear, thought Lucy.

Looking startled, Susan rubbed his back awkwardly. "Well, I've all ready eaten my lunch," said Peter. He turned to Lucy. "Would it be okay if you gave him your apple?"

"Sure," said Lucy, now feeling quite sorry for the boy.

"No," said Edmund angrily. "I don't care if he's poor, he never should have done that to Lucy!"

"Ed..." warned Peter, as Lucy said, "It's all right, really."

Edmund ignored both of them and pulled the boy away from Susan (with surprising strength) and punched him.

Lucy and Susan screamed as the boy fell to the ground, wailing in pain. "Edmund!" yelled Peter, grabbing the back of his shirt and dragging him away from the boy. Edmund struggled against Peter and finally wrenched himself away.

"Here, Lu," he said roughly, picking up her fallen book from the grass and practically throwing it at her. Then he stalked away.

Peter let out a great sigh and helped the other boy from the ground. Lucy noticed that he had a nosebleed and a bruise was starting to form on his cheek. "Let's take him to the nurse," suggested Susan to Peter, who nodded. "Are you all right, Lucy?"

"Yes, fine," said Lucy, shaking a bit. "Here, he can have it." She handed her sister the lunch bag and watched as she and Peter took the boy inside. He was now crying even more pitifully than he had before.

Lucy looked around for Edmund, but he was nowhere in sight.

That night at dinner they were all quite silent. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie tried to strike up conversation but to no avail. They made do with exchanging confused and worried glances instead.

When Peter and Susan ate their food as if they were hungry wolves and then asked to be excused from the table, Mrs. Pevensie had such a look of astonishment that it cannot be described. Indeed, the sight of dear Susan with meat stuck to her chin was rather unsettling. "Er...all right, dears."

Lucy stood up soon after. "I'm not hungry," she said, keeping her eyes on the table and not daring to look at Edmund, who was sitting across from her.

"You're not, Lu? What with fat boy stealing your lunch and all, I'd think you'd be shoving it all down," came Edmund's hard voice. Lucy looked up and met his accusing gaze. Her eyes welled with tears.

"All right, what is going on?" Mr. Pevensie demanded.

"Nothing," said Lucy firmly, a tear running down her cheek.

"I'm not hungry, either," said Edmund, pushing his plate away from him. He walked out of the dining room and continued walking until he had walked right out the front door. Lucy followed him, despite their mother's yells to come back inside.

"You're horrible, you know that?" she said, trembling, trying to keep up with his strides as they walked down the street. "I can't believe you did that to that boy, even if it was on my behalf. You punched him, Ed! And now you're being absolutely rotten about it!"

Edmund kept walking quickly, ignoring her.

"Why are you like this, Edmund?" she said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Why are you nice one minute and insufferable the next? Why can't you just be nice all the time? Be more like Peter! He doesn't go round beating up on poor fellows..."

Edmund stopped so abruptly that Lucy knocked into him. "Lucy," he said, his voice shaking, "I'm not Peter."

"I know you're not - "

"I'm not Peter," he repeated, as if she hadn't interrupted. "I'm not just going to sit around and watch you be picked on just because you're small. What that boy did - there's no excuse for it. So I punched him, so what?" There was such a wildness in his eyes that Lucy was a bit frightened, but she laid her hand on his, trying to calm him. "Maybe I shouldn't have done it," he began in a gentler voice, "but I did. For you, Lu. I did it for you."

Lucy looked at him, incredulous. "But, Ed, I can take care of myself!" she said.

"I know you can," he said with a slight smirk. "But it's my job to make sure you don't have to."

Lucy softened. "You're such a boy, you know, trying to come up with an excuse for doing a bad thing," she said, but she was teasing him. She knew what he had done for her was sweet, even if it was horribly misguided.

Edmund nodded toward the front door. "Come on, Lu, let's go pick out a book to read."

Lucy pouted. "It's not even bedtime!"

"For you, it is."

"It is not!"

"Is too!"

"Edmund!" she yelled at him as he started walking back to the house. "It is not!"

"Well, I say it is."

"You can't boss me around!" she said angrily.

He stopped abruptly again and Lucy bumped into him for the second time. He turned to face her. "What are you going to do, punch me?" he said, a twinkle in his eyes. And then - bugger it all - he began to laugh.

"You!" Lucy exclaimed, throwing up her hands. Oh, he could be so infuriating! Why did he have to frustrate her so? Why did he have to always toy with her emotions like that? Why did he have to be so...horrid and lovely at the same time? And why was it the one thing she hated most and loved most about him?

Edmund was still laughing and she stood with her arms folded, half glaring at him and half smiling in spite of herself. Next moment she threw herself at her brother, wrapping her arms around him. Edmund hugged her back and rested his head on top of hers, just the way she liked it.

And overcome though she was with the desire to slap him, she reasoned that they had had enough violence for one day.