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Isabella and James spend the summer reacquainting themselves with Earth and its quaint habits like "television" and "recorded music" and "history involving things like World War II and not things like the White Witch". They had books, in Narnia, but only ones it occurred to them to ask for; they can be found filling in the gaps throughout the remainder of the time they spend in Forks, often with one's head on the other's shoulder or one's feet up on the other's knees.

Telling Renée goes better, sort of, than telling Charlie; she cries, but she's less shellshocked, and takes reasonably well to having her adult daughter who happens to be legally and visibly ten (then eleven) around.

Chris migrates herself and James to Phoenix in Isabella's same school district and both ostensible children manage to skip into the sixth grade. This will provide culture and social opportunities with people slightly less... eleven... and also give Isabella an excuse to be unfamiliar to her classmates; someone who knew her before might notice.

They get nearly matching schedules and wade into middle school. It is nightmarishly educational. Being in their mid-twenties gives them some perspective on the entire thing and having each other is an improvement but Aslan's fangs these children.

However, it is through a school person that Isabella discovers a relatively accessible way for them to not get rusty on all their Narnia skills. She promptly joins the Society for Creative Anachronism.
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James joins up right along with her. It sounds like a good way to maintain assorted Narnia skills. And practice code-switching. She kind of likes the idea of getting to keep her Narnian accent in some contexts, and the SCA sounds like the sort of context where a Narnian accent is appropriate.

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The SCA is indeed that sort of context! It is also reasonable to have a name you only use at SCA. It does not have to match your day-to-day gender or anything.

Also you become the monarch via combat. Isabella asks if archery counts. It doesn't.
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... James asks what does count.

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Swords count!

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It's such a frustratingly tiny ambition, but—

"We are going to be King and Queen of Atenveldt," James murmurs to Isabella.
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"Good."

However, they cannot do that until James is old enough to legally participate in the relevant grade of swordfight. This is strictly an age thing and it does not matter if he can take them all at once with one hand tied behind his back or anything.
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Okay, how old does James have to be before he can usefully demonstrate the capacity to take them all at once with one hand tied behind his back?

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Sixteen. (Fourteen to uselessly demonstrate this capacity.)

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Sigh. Why must childhood.

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Why indeed. Isabella will get her archery lessons separately for now. (Her instructor thinks he's struck gold and plans on sending her to the Olympics.) SCA can be for dressing up and talking like a Narnian and doing calligraphy and playing harp.

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James likewise seeks out fencing lessons elsewhere. Her instructor is similarly impressed but less ambitious about it.

She participates in some of the Youth Combat stuff with the SCA, too, to get used to the way they operate, even though she won't be allowed to do anything with even approximately real swords for another three years, ugh, childhood, why.
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Childhood why.

At least Renée knowing that they're not really mid-childhood means she doesn't think they're staying up for Santa Claus on Christmas Eve when that rolls around.

When they are in fact -
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- staying up for Father Christmas.

He's not going to show. He said he doesn't come to Earth. He's not going to show. He's so, so not going to show.



He doesn't show.
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"Argh," James agrees, leaning on Isabella and hugging her. "I tried not to hope. But - Father Christmas is so good. Maybe there's some way - there are magic things that work here - if we could figure out how they work, and why... that almost seems like it would be worth having us here for, you know? If we could make Earth into a magical enough place for Father Christmas to visit. I think he implied that's why he can't."

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"Maybe. We don't know how to make more of them, though, or where the chess set came from..."

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"Yeah, we have a really bad information problem." She yawns. "But it'll give me something to point myself at that feels more important than math or becoming King of Atenveldt. Even if it's difficult and we have next to no leads and it might take years just to find out whether there's even a third magic thing in the world."

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"Yeah." Sigh.

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Sigh. Hug. "Let's go to sleep."

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