In Spite of the Arrow Book #9

Chapter 11 Will We Stay

A few weeks had passed, and I hadn't picked up a pen in a while. I couldn't until one day I changed my mind.
Edmund came into my room, "Glozelle wants to take Thornea in as his daughter."
"That's wonderful," I grinned."She needs someone who would stand in as a parent to her."
"What she needs is a few years in prison," he snapped back.
"Edmund," I groaned, "Don't you remember the story I told you."
"And I cleared her debt," he answered sitting down.
"But you still think she's guilty. In your heart, you hold a grudge towards her, and that was really what the parable was talking about," I sighed.
Edmund lay down on my bed, "You don't know how hard it is to forgive. Every time I see her, I think of you with that arrow in your side. We almost lost you."
I sat down beside him, "I know how it feels, it was hard to forgive Thornea as well, but I just let go."
"I can't just let go, and let go of what?" He asked annoyed.
"Bitterness, anger, I've done it many times," I answered.
Edmund rested his head in my lap."So it's easier for you."
"It's never easier, Ed; I mean, I'm known for my temper. It's hard to control, I get angry so easily. And it's so hard to let go of it." I explained, "I've to do it almost every day. Seven times seventy that's what Jesus said to Peter. That's how much we should forgive."
Edmund rolled his eyes, "So if you do it every day, Verity, you must have already reached your limit."
"And he said we should do it over again," I said."There's no limit."
Edmund sat up, "So what you're saying, if someone hurts me or my sisters or brother should I just forgive, forgive, forgive, 7×70 and over again?"
"Yes, exactly, because..." I began.
"You know what," he interrupted me, "I can't do it, I'm not perfect like you."
"Who said I'm perfect," I replied.
"You always are," he shouted, "Always telling me what to do. Our whole lives that's all you've been doing."
"Someone needs to keep you in line," I crossed my arms.
"Let Peter and Susan do that. I'm older than you so I should be the wiser person," he retorted before leaving.
I sighed, if only I could explain what I meant. I turned to see my pen-dagger and a stack of paper; if only I could just write something. But I couldn't write, there was no use. Would Edmund even bother reading it? He, of all my siblings, didn't bother reading any of my books. He never read any books unless he had to.
That night, when I retired to my room, an idea popped into my mind. Out about a theatrical of my illustration.
I sighed, maybe I would write again. I sat down on my desk, took a match and lit the candle.

The Servant's Debt
"No," I sighed, "A terrible title for a play."
Despite the 100-pence
I then wrote it down. I smiled, that would catch people's attention. I was up all night, scribbling away. After I had finished I walked around the room, acting it out. And sat down, making some more chances.
Then I read it again, grabbing an orange from a bowl of fruit on my desk, peeling it and biting into it. Satisfied with my story.
"Verity!" I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I heard was Lucy calling my name.
"Oh, Lucy," I groaned, lifting my head from the desk, "I just fell asleep a few minutes ago."
"Cair Paravel! They finished it!" She explained excitedly.
"Already," I was surprised."In just a month."
"We're going to see it now," Lucy grabbed my hand.
"Wait now?" I asked, "It's in the middle of the night, well maybe nearly morning."
"It is morning already." She replied."Were you up all night?"
"Yes," I nodded, "Writing."
"You wrote you told Peter you would never pick up a pen again," Lucy said, surprised.
"I changed my mind," I replied.
"What did you write?" She asked.
"A play, you will act in there will you? I just need four people. I plan on doing it at Caspian's coronation," I explained."Leona suggested it."
Lucy nodded, "Get ready we need to leave within the hour."
Within the hour the eight of us royals made it to Cair Paravel. Even though it wasn't the same Cair Paravel, we had ruled over 1,000 years ago. It felt like we had finally come home. To see that beautiful palace standing on top of the hill overlooking the sea.
"We're home," I grinned at my siblings. I ran up to the courtyard. Here we had many discussions. The memory of Peter, Susan, and my argument over hunting the bartender. I disobeyed my older siblings'  decision and went hunting anyway, where I was almost killed.
I found myself in the palace. It was as beautiful as I remembered.
"How did they get it exactly right?" I inquired, as my siblings came in.
"Well, you wrote what it was like," Susan replied.
Peter placed a hand on my shoulder, "Shall we go upstairs?"
"Yes," Lucy nodded excitedly.
We all went upstairs and looked for our rooms or rather picked the one that looked most like ours had been.
"This room is mine," I stated, as we swung open one of the doors.
"Why?" Ruth asked.
I sat down on the window seat, resting my head on the window.
"The window," I answered."Just like the one I used to curl up against and write."
"I thought you weren't ever going to write?" Asked Susan.
"I changed my mind," I said, "Sometimes the words I want to say are said best on paper."
Edmund seemed to know what I was referring to, "What if no one reads it?"
"They won't have to," I crossed my arms.

That evening all of us siblings gathered in Peter's room, talking.
"It brought back so many memories," Ruth sighed, she leaned against Peter, her arms wrapped around Susan. Lucy had her head in Susan's lap.
"I know," I nodded, "Some are painful and others joyful." My head rested on Peter's shoulder.
"Isn't that what memories always hold?" Peter asked.
"How long will we be able to stay?" Lucy asked.
"I don't know, Lu," Susan sighed, as she stroked her hair.
"We know we can't stay forever," Edmund agreed, he had an arm slung around my shoulders.
"Why, can't we stay here?" Lucy asked disappointed.
"We were made for our world, Lu," I explained.
"But we love Narnia more," Ruth protested.
"We don't always get what we want," Peter said.
We knew he was right.
"Sometimes I wish we were born here," I whispered, "Then we could stay."
"What about Mom and Dad?" Asked Edmund.
"I hardly remember what Dad's like," Susan sighed.
"Neither can I," Ruth nodded.
"Are we forgetting them?" Lucy asked frightened.
"We can never forget about them. They're our parents," I answered.
We all grew quiet, I felt Peter wrap his arm around me and another around Ruth.
"If we go back, at least we know Narnia's in good hands," he said.