A/N: Hello there! So this is a story I first conceived about eight years ago, now here we are. Please be advised that there will be about 3 or four parts to this, spanning the different books of the series. I am going by their movie ages here (Peter is around 16 instead of 13 like in the book.), and that I will be mixing movie and book verse because I do what I want. Please enjoy and review if you want.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia.

Yeet.

PROLOGUE

Sometimes I thought the air raid alarms sounded like babies crying. They worked much the same way, too. One moment you're sleeping soundly and assuming everything is fine. The next, you're jumping out of bed with your heart pounding and assuming the worst. I should have been used to the alarms by now, but this time they were accompanied by the house rattling and people screaming outside. This was what all the drills had been preparing us for. Coat. Shoes. Run. I chanted internally. That's what Mum had told me to do during an air raid. A coat because it was black against my white nightgown, I would be less visible to the German planes overhead. Shoes in case there was broken glass. Then run.

My feet hit the icy floor as I grabbed for my coat. I fumbled with the sleeves and cursed myself for the fear pulsing through me. Books rattled off my shelf, thudding to the ground in time with the explosions that sounded much closer than they ever had before.

"Emma!" I heard my mother shout in the hall.

"I'm coming!" I replied.

I tried to order my hands to stop shaking long enough to tie my shoelaces before giving up and running out of my room with the laces flying behind me. Mum was standing at the top of the stairs and started down them when she saw me coming. The moment we both reached the foyer and before she could reach for the door, the house shook and the front window exploded. I threw myself down and covered my head. My arms stung. Mum pulled me back to my feet and dragged me out the front door before I had time to react. She kept hold of my hand as we ran down the front stairs together and out into the cold London night.

I could see our neighbors, the Pevensies, crowding into the bomb shelter we shared between our houses. Mum and I ran in seconds before Peter and Edmund.

"You could've gotten us killed!" Peter shouted at Edmund as the door to the shelter closed.

No one said anything. Mrs. Pevensie and Mum lit a few lamps then sat in the corner talking in low voices. Lucy was snuggled between me and Susan, only letting out a small whimper now and then. Peter was on the floor by my feet, leaning his head on my knee. Edmund sat in the middle of floor not looking at anyone.

I put my hand on Peter's head and gave him what I hoped was a small, reassuring smile when he glanced up at me. He started to do the same before he frowned and looked at my arm.

"Are you bleeding?" he asked.

I hadn't noticed the small amount of blood on my arms from the shallow cuts from the exploding window.

"Huh, I suppose I am." I said softly.