Ruth's Magpie

Chapter 39: Fishing and Farewell

RUTH:

I dropped off to sleep quickly, but I wasn't asleep for long before a snap in the woods jolted me awake.

"Ed," I hissed, "Ed, did you hear that?"

When a soft snore was my only answer, I jumped to my feet and scanned my surroundings.

"Is someone there?" I called into the woods. I again received no answer, but I was now wide awake with no chance of falling back asleep, so I slung my pack on my back and headed down to the river. I kicked off my shoes, throwing them in my pack, and dangled my feet in the water.

Having truly stopped for the first time since leaving, my mind was free to wander. Rubbing my neck in an attempt to ward off an oncoming headache, I studied the landscape across the rushing river and thought about Peter.

He really would have loved to see me enjoying the party so much the night before, I found myself thinking. I hoped he didn't miss me too much. I missed him already, but I knew deep in my heart that, at this moment, Edmund needed me more.

Oh, Edmund. Edmund, who still couldn't hold anyone's gaze for very long. Edmund, who still slipped away to his room in the middle of meals sometimes because he so desperately needed to be alone. Edmund, who still sometimes looked like the scared little boy I found in the ice castle all those years ago.

Someone cleared their throat softly behind me, and I whirled around.

"I didn't mean to startle you," a grey-haired satyr said apologetically, bucket in one hand and fishing pole in the other.

"It's alright," I replied, smiling, "I was just lost in thought."

"Would you mind if I joined you?" he asked, gesturing with his rod.

"Not at all!" I shifted to the right.

"Thank you," he said, lowering himself onto the wood. He reached into the bucket and hung a worm from the hook. "If you don't mind my asking, what were you thinking about?"

"Oh, different things," I said with a chuckle. "Thinking about the kings, primarily."

"You and High King Peter are courting, are you not?"

Now I laughed heartily. "My, how news travels in this kingdom! Yes, High King Peter and I are courting."

The elderly satyr smiled. "My wife and I courted many years, beginning shortly after the Long Winter started. We were optimists; we wanted to wait to be married until after the winter passed. But after about five years, we couldn't bear it anymore, and wed in a snowbank that was knee-deep."

"Oh, how fascinating! Was your wedding well-attended?"

"The ceremony, no, but the party afterward? Indoors? It was one of the largest celebrations Narnia has ever seen."

I beamed. "That's very sweet."

"Oh! I got one!" The satyr flicked the rod quickly upward, then slowly began pulling the string toward him. Surely enough, a silver fish flopped back and forth on the other end of the string, its mouth ensnared by the hook.

"Well done!" I cheered.

"Thank you, my lady," he replied, proudly plunking his prize in the bucket and grabbing another worm. "Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, my wedding. Well, I think the party was so well-attended because it allowed us to join together just like old times. Or like the current times, as you got to experience last night. We were in a large cabin, like a dance hall. And we danced long into the night. We had to be careful, because the White Witch would not have been pleased had she found out, but it was one of the best nights of my life. For many reasons," he added with a wink.