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EDMUND PEVENSIE glances toward the bow of the boat where Lucy and Trumpkin sit in silence before returning his attention to me. "Is he that bitter about everything?" His voice is low so only my sensitive ears can hear.
Realizing he's referring to the dwarf and his cynicism regarding the Old Kings and Queens, I bite back my laughter. "I hope not."
He grins while I readjust my grip on the stern, pulling my body a little further from the water to rest my arms along the smooth, wooden ledge.
"Hang on," I mumble, closing my eyes for a second. My jaw clenches when I feel the protesting change flow through me yet again. Doing my best to overlook it, I pour myself into lengthening my tail so it nearly doubles in size. A relieved sigh slides past my lips when it's over.
"'Only the occasional bruise'?" He questions, repeating my own words sarcastically. Despite his teasing, Edmund appears utterly unimpressed as he awaits my reply.
With a dramatic roll of my eyes, I loose another sigh and briefly draw back the veil painted over my skin, revealing scars and bruises of all colours and shades. "Would you rather they know the full extent?" I shoot back. Edmund's face falls as he takes in my true appearance for the fleeting moment that it's visible, then I throw the veil on again and he blinks at me in shock. I simply raise an eyebrow at the King that says: see?
He continues to stare dazedly, eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Why...?"
I inhale deeply through my nose, considering how best to explain it. "Chimæras learn to shift just like humans learn to walk. It's an innate skill, but I didn't have my parents to teach me. Cornelius and the Narnians knew enough to help, but I haven't exactly perfected it."
His frown deepens with confusion. "So are you always...?"
I try not to visibly grimace as the implications I've asked myself before circulate my thoughts. Am I always purple and red? Am I always in pain? Do I always hide it? "No," I say.
He doesn't believe me, I can see it in his eyes. But it is the truth. Stubborn.
"It only happens when I shift between forms that are dramatically different in size," I explain. "Turning legs into a tail is simple, unless..." unless I've been shifting between a mouse, a hawk, a mermaid and two different human forms like a lunatic since last night.
"Unless you've been changing like that a lot," he supplies.
I nod. "Exactly."
Edmund checks the rudder before leaning on it comfortably. "So, have you got a favourite?" He asks.
A favourite form? I mull over the question thoughtfully. "I haven't really thought about it before," I admit. Ed smiles beautifully and waits patiently for my answer, a curious shine in his eyes. And, looking at the dark-haired boy in front of me, I find my answer sooner than I expect.
