Autumn Nights - A Narnia Oneshot Challenge

Muffins and Marginalia

Author's note: Nicholas is a product of my imagination, not a character in Lewis's chronicle. If you want to know more about his story, please consider checking out my Jill Pole oneshot collection "House of Ghosts". Thanks for coming along!

-Judith

Prompt: Books

"We've been friends for how long and you've just neglected to tell me you have a library?" Eustace marveled at the 10-foot mahogany bookshelves lining all four walls of the Pole's home library. The bookshelves ran floor to ceiling, built directly into the wall. Two brown leather armchairs sat in the center of the room, a small coffee table between them, and on top of it, a mid-game chessboard.

Jill shrugged. "It never really seemed worthy of note. Besides, there aren't any of the right books in here."

Edmund dropped into one of the chairs, pressing his back into the tufting. "The chairs are worth noting all on their own." He leaned forward, examining the chessboard. "Whoever is playing white has a rotten strategy."

"Nobody's played a game of chess in years." Jill sat on an ottoman, leaving the other chair for Eustace, who was happy to test it out.

"Why have a chessboard set to mid-game, if you aren't going to use it?" he asked, propping his feet up on the table. Jill slapped down his ankles.

"To make it look like we care about that sort of thing, obviously."

"Jiminy—my parents care about affectation as much as yours, but they certainly don't pretend to be chess connoisseurs."

Jill shrugged. "High society expects more of you, I guess."

Edmund walked over to the bookshelves, scanning the titles as far up as he could read.

"Are you sure none of the books in here are good?"

"I'd check the shelves over there—" she nodded to the far end of the room. "That's where Father and Mother keep the books they got as gifts. More likely to find something worth your while."

Edmund followed her instructions. "Plato," he said, pulling a small pamphlet from the shelf. "Gorgias. The Professor and Father talk about this one all the time. It can't be half bad."

Eustace started scanning the same shelf, and Jill joined.

"Take it if you want," she said. "Nobody's going to know the difference."

Edmund gave an appreciative nod and flipped back the cover. "Nicholas Pole," he read aloud. "Is that your father's name?"

"No. My brother's."

"Oh," he said, putting the book back on the shelf. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Edmund's ears burned, his very blood keenly aware of his mistake. She'd never talked to him about Nick. He knew he'd existed, but only through Eustace and Peter. He'd certainly never asked her anything— they'd both discouraged it.

"You can take it," Jill said.

Hesitantly, Edmund pulled it back off the shelf. He looked at the cover, then raised his eyes to Jill.

She nodded. "He'd want someone to read it. I'm not going to." Jill glanced around the room, taking a deep breath. "Speaking of which, let's each pick a book and get out of here. I really don't fancy it."

Edmund followed her gaze. From the outside, it was any Oxford don's dream: shelves upon shelves of books, comfortable seating, and a beautiful bay window overlooking the garden. His father would die to have a library like it—his study was half the room this was. Edmund's eyes fell back on the chess set and his heart sank. Despite the hearth, there was no warmth in here. No smoke stains painted the inside of the fireplace.