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Enter Eustace, from the House of Arch, to an armchair by the fire. Props list: Tea (provided by a waitrat) and chessboard (abandoned by the fire).

He fidgets with the pieces, setting them up as if for a game, but eventually seems just as content to lean back in the armchair and gaze up into the rafters drowsily.

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Someone reached down and moved the King Pawn 2 spaces forward and when he looked up, he would find Jill staring down at him, "Hello, Scrubb."

He jumps, startled out of his reverie, and breaks into a grin when he sees her.

"Hullo, Pole."

"Oh come on, Scrubb. I'm assuming that since you were setting it up that you were going to play." She laughed a bit as she sat on the other side of the chess set. "How have things been?"

He responds to the move with a pawn moving two squares, and makes a wry face.

"Er. Complicated, a bit. How about you?"

The problem with reading while you walk is that you occasionally trip over things.

Like people's outstretched feet.

Eustace jumps.

Which probably doesn't make the tripping any less hazardous.

"Oh, I'm sorry--"

"Don't worry about it. Probably as much my fault as yours," says Trina, dodging the increased tripping hazard rather gracefully.

"You okay?"

"Yes -- are you all right?"

"Fine. Thanks."

She folds the letter she's reading and puts it in her bag.

"Trina Echolls," she adds.

"Eustace Scrubb. Sorry about that."

A raised eyebrow at the name.

"I think I'd be sorry about that too, honestly," she says. "But it's nice to meet you, Eustace."

He sighs. "Really. It's a pleasure, Trina."

"Thanks," she says. And of course it is. She's Trina Echolls, after all.

"So, when and where are you from?"

"Ah, well, here, I suppose. Last time I was in Britain, it was 1949. You?"

"The last time I was in Britain was 2004. But that was two years ago. I live in California, most of the time."

His eyebrows go up. "Where in Britain were you?"

"London," she says. "On vacation.

"Where in Britain are you from?"

"Cambridge."

"I dated a guy who went to college there once, but I've never been."

Actually, he went to Oxford, but details are not always her strong suit.

Cora is not a fan of chess, in particular, but she smiles at the young man when she sits down on the couch a bit away.

"Is your game that boring?"

He blinks, and brings his focus down from the rafters.

"Oh, ah -- well, with no one to play against . . ."

"If I were any better at it--well, I'd challenge you to a game, probably. But I'm not, so you'd win without any trouble.

My name's Cora, by the way," she adds with a small smile.

He smiles back. "Eustace. Eustace Scrubb."

He looks at her closely, and adds, "D'you mind if I ask where you're from?"

She would make a face at his name, but she has a feeling that might be a bit rude.

Still!

"Narnia--Beruna, originally. Why, are you, too?"

He brightens.

"I thought you might be Narnian. You've got the look." Shaking his head -- "I'm not from Narnia, no, but I've been there."

"...are you King Peter or King Edmund, then?" Cora asks, suspicious.

He doesn't look like a king, but neither did Caspian.

"--Er, no."

He figured that was pretty clear from the Eustace part.

"They're my cousins."

He could be disguising himself!

Or Cora's mun could be sleepy, >.>.

"--of course," Cora says, laughing. "Sorry, I've already missed one king, so I was a bit needlessly suspicious. I've not heard of you in the stories, but I'm sure it's an honor."

He pulls a rueful face. "I think I'm rather glad of that, really. I understand the stories about me that stuck around were the unflattering ones."

"I'm sure you didn't do anything that awful, else there would be a good many more stories about it," she says, amused.

"Not awful -- just embarrassing."

So not elaborating on that one.

"Anyway, I might be after your time. Who's ruling just now?"

"It's the twelfth year of the reign of King Miraz," she supplies, before adding helpfully "Prince Caspian is twelve, in my time."

Then she blinks.

"But--you must be mistaken. Your cousins are almost...mythical, in my world.

His eyebrows go up. "Definitely after your time, then. I think Caspian was about my age when I first got to Narnia."

Cora opens her mouth as if to say something, then blinks, and closes it.

"How did you manage that--if your cousins were...? Unless this is one of those travelling between worlds things," she adds, confused.

"It's a travelling between worlds thing," he assures her. "I don't quite know how it works, but there it is."

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