A/N: So, this fandom had swallowed me right now. This will be Pedmund, people, and Edmund here is female, called Edmée (the closest female version of his name I've been able to find, from the French version of Ed's name). So, warnings for incest and Rule 63. Also, TRIGGER WARNINGS for someone trying to abuse a child (the child is saved on time, though).
Lux Aeterna
1 – Harsh Choices, New Beginnings
London, October 1934
Edmée "Ed" Pevensie held her ground in front of her parents, even if her father's hard stare was making her dread threaten to drown her, for she was a rather clever girl, and knew that if she showed the slightest hint of indecision, her parents would never agree. And she needed them to. Ed could no longer go on as she was, and even at her tender four years of age, had got ready for that very argument (well, with Susan's help, but Susan had agreed that she had to do it alone, at the very least when confronting their parents). She was ready to negotiate, as long as she got what she wanted more than anything else.
"Edmée, love–" said her mother, a concerned look on her face as she stared at her daughter, who stood straight in front of the dinner table, for once not flinching at her full name (mostly since the only ones in the house were Helen and Joseph Pevensie). "Are you telling us that you are... a boy?"
At that, Joseph Pevensie eyed his daughter, memories of a half-forgotten conversation with one of his co-workers, talking about the theories of a certain Carl Jung coming back with a new clarity, and briefly wondered if his daughter was, indeed, a transvestite.
Ed frowned, because it seemed they didn't get it, and she just knew that she would be tired of repeating herself by the time her siblings came back from the neighbour's birthday party.
"No. I'm a girl. I was born a girl feeling like a girl and I like being a girl. That's not what I mean."
Ed was fine being a girl. Her problem was that she didn't want to look like one.
Forever in her mind would remain the memory of an incident that had been hunting her since the very last year, the first and last time she would ever go to any party to the Perry's. The same party she had gotten away from going by feigning a very bad stomachache (which her parents had known right away was false, but once her tantrum threatened to awaken the finally asleep baby, Lucy, they had capitulated and let her stay).
Edmée had gotten tired of the party really soon, especially when one took into account that Mark Perry and his sister Darcy were Peter and Susan's friends, not hers. She had been so excited when her mother had made Peter and Susan bring her with them, away from the baby that had taken all their attention from her. She thought it would be fun.
She was wrong.
Peter and Susan had brought her, yes, but even Peter, who used to lavish her with attention every time she was nearby before the new baby had been born–more than Susan ever had, at least–deserted her once Mark and Darcy came for him, leaving her with the elder Perrys. And Edmée, being the only child under five in Mark's party, couldn't find anyone willing to play with her.
She felt dejected, for she had put on her very best dress, Susan's favourite, the dark blue one with green and silver details, and the silver ribbons Peter had gifted her with during her last birthday. The ones she hadn't had a chance to wear for the first time since briefly putting them on last September for her birthday photos. The ones that he had said, "made a beautiful contrast with her hair". She had dressed her best, endured hours of mother's fussing over her shoulder-length hair, and twirled endless times for her father, all for... What? Being forgotten by her siblings? Rejected by Mark and Darcy's stupid friends?
The next time Mrs Perry got distracted by one of her pompous friends, Edmée slipped away, toward the Perry's backyard.
It was barely past six, and yet the sky had already begun to darken, the sun about to set.
Edmée wanted to cry, but she had had enough of being called a baby for one day, and since Peter and Susan were already embarrassed for having had to bring her with them, she didn't want to give them any more reasons.
"Is this your first party, little one?" said then a voice from her back.
Edmée, who up until that moment had thought herself alone, actually jumped, a scared gasp leaving her lips before her pride could silence it. Blushing, ashamed at having been caught so out of guard, she turned around. Sam Bagley, Mark and Darcy's cousin, whose high school graduation party had been less than a week ago, stood by the door to the backyard, which was now closed, even if Edmée would have sworn that she had left it open.
"Ehm... Yes."
She wanted to be left alone to brood in peace, or even better, go back home alone–it was only a few blocks away, after all–but her mother, Susan and her teachers had always told her that she had to act as a proper little Lady, and saying such a thing as "Leve me alone" would be considered rude of a Lady, so she hoped that he would get tired of being around a three-year old and go away soon.
But he didn't look bored. His dark eyes were focused on her with such an intensity that she feared he would end up staring a hole through her. And then he walked right up to her, until she had to tilt her head upwards to look at him.
"I'm not sure if I'm the first one to tell you this, young lady, but you look positively marvellous. Blue and green greatly fit your fair skin."
She had been expecting praises for her clothes all day, so Edmée could not understand why his words made her uneasy. Nonetheless, he had praised her, so she gave him the brightest smile she could muster, even with her uneasiness and dread upsetting her stomach.
He was barely a meter away, those dark eyes still focused firmly on her, and Edmée felt the need to run for some reason. He reached to her ribbons with one hand, a smile that made her even more nervous fixed on his lips, and when his fingers touched her hair, she involuntarily recoiled, a shiver of extreme disgust passing through her, although she could not fathom the reason.
He didn't notice, or maybe he didn't care, for he kept getting closer and now not even twisting her neck upwards could she see his face, her sight barely reaching his neck.
"Such a beautiful lady, as young as you are, should never be alone in a dark backyard, my dear."
Edmée couldn't breathe. She could not move. Her body had frozen on the spot, the terror that had been building up–since she first saw him looking at her, she noticed now–suddenly choking her with its intensity.
"Why, with someone as beautiful as you, how could anyone contain themselves? Especially in such a marvellous dress..." he said, as his hand moved to caress her cheek.
No. No. Please, please, please... Edmée didn't know what, exactly, was she praying for, but she had never felt more relieved than when she heard her brother calling her name, a slightly desperate "Edmée!" that reached her even through the closed door. Her body unfroze all at once, and she practically jumped away from Sam and his disturbingly focused eyes, his reaching hands still moving toward her, as if he was planning to touch her again.
"PETER!" she cried, pounding against the door, which opened right then, Peter's frantic eyes quickly falling upon her, as if checking for injuries. She just hugged him, finally, finally feeling safe again, tears already falling from her eyes, her previous concerns about being considered a baby dismissed in Peter's warm embrace. "Peter, I want to go home. I want to go home NOW."
She had her face pressed against his chest, so Edmée couldn't see him looking at the now empty backyard, blue eyes dark with anger born out of having one of the most important people in his life endangered–and guilt, for he blamed himself for his sister being in danger in the first place–, before he pulled her with him to grab Susan and go back home with an apology to his friends–although his rather cold look to his supposed best friend did raise several eyebrows–, for his little sister was upset and as her elder brother, he had to take her back home. Susan didn't complain at being taken from the party, and when Edmée looked up at her, she looked strangely pale.
Peter had her cocooned on his side the short way home, and Susan, way-too-pale Susan, grabbed her shoulder the whole way too, as if Edmée would vanish into thin air unless they kept their grip on her.
Their parents were confused at their early arrival–the party wasn't meant to end until eight o'clock–, but Helen Pevensie didn't doubt to prepare the bath for her little Edmée, while Joseph made his daughter's favourite hot chocolate, at seeing her so upset.
While her mother helped her out of her dress, Edmée looked at herself in the full-body mirror, and noticed for the very first time that one of her ribbons was missing.
When that night she slipped into Peter's bed, trembling, her teddy bear not able to keep the nightmares away by itself anymore, he accepted her without a word. She couldn't even understand her fear, why she had felt so incredibly dirty after realizing that one of her ribbons was missing–to the point that her mother had had to take the sponge out from her hands, since she was leaving her fair skin almost raw–, or why she had quietly asked Susan if she could throw the dress and the remaining ribbon out with the trash without Mother or Father realizing (which her sister had done without muttering a single word, still rather pale-faced).
Susan, few minutes after Edmée had settled safely between her brother's arms, had entered the room, a frantic look on her face that diluted into a heartfelt relief when she saw her little sister's black curls peeking out from under Peter's sheets, and with no need for conversation, Peter moved until there was enough space for her too on his bed–which had once been their parent's bed, and thus was far larger than most six-year-old beds–, both of them curling around an already half-asleep Edmée.
"Su?" had she muttered then, while her siblings curled around her, as if forming a protective cocoon.
"Shhh," had answered her sister, pressing a kiss to her still somewhat damp hair, "we'll keep you safe, sis."
"We're here for you, Eddie," said Peter then, pressing a kiss on her hair too.
The next morning, Helen was checking her children after feeding Lucy, only to find them curled under Peter's baby blue sheets. The sight was so adorable that she let them sleep in for the day.
Ed had not forgotten that sickening feeling she had felt then, and from that day on, she had been more and more sensitive to the stares up until that day she hadn't been able to understand nor be upset about. Nor that she truly understood why did the stares upset her, she had been told many a time that being stared at–ogled at, as Susan called it, whatever that meant–was mere proof of a Lady's beauty and wasn't an upsetting matter.
But it did upset Ed, and since the day of the party, she had slowly–with Susan's help–become more and more tomboyish, or at least as much a girl could be with skirts and dresses. It wasn't enough, though, and for that, she had required her brother's help too. Peter had given her some of his clothes, even if they were so big on her frame that she had needed three belts to keep everything from falling off.
Thusly dressed, she had waited until her siblings had gone to the party–not nearly as happily as the last time, she had noted–to confront her parents, dressed in Peter's clothes, looking in fact like a scrawny boy with clothes three times his size. It wasn't the first time Peter had lend her his clothes–especially pants and shirts–, but it was the first time she put them on directly at home, and not changed behind their backyard's bushes, Peter and Susan acting as privacy curtains and vigils at once.
"I want boy clothes, like Peter's, for going outside the house, or when we have visitors. In exchange," said Ed, subtly looking at the notes Susan had left for her, hidden from her parent's view by Peter's too-long-for-her sleeves, "I'll be the most proper Lady England has seen at boarding school. But I want my boy clothes."
Helen and Joseph were baffled, for sure, but her request ended up being accepted. And in not less than a month, in part thanks to her mother's art with sewing, Edmée, who had been preferring to be called "Ed" when not in the privacy of their little family for a while, had a wardrobe full of boy clothes, which she used most often.
After several years, most of the neighbourhood had accepted that Peter had a younger brother, "Ed", and two younger sisters.
Peter and Ed were pretty close, and could often be found playing on the nearby park, cricket or footie, or whichever game struck their fancy, as lively and affectionate as two English boys could be, their sisters going with them from time to time.
The Pevensies were weird in some ways–there were rumours of another daughter who lived in Cambridge and would only met Susan once she started going to Susan's boarding school–, but they had their very own balance, and they were happy.
That is, until Ed came back from the last term of her first year in boarding school.
A/N: Now I'll say, part of the reason Edmée being, well, a girl isn't very well known in the neighbourhood (or, well, well remembered) it's mostly due to Edmée's reclusive nature prior to what from now on shall be known as the Perry Incident. That was the first party she ever went to, and since no moves whatsoever were made to try to change her sex or her papers (which identify her a female), there hasn't been any kind of scandal. And I'll say right here and now that no, Edmée isn't transsexual, because she's a cis female who dresses as a boy and acts boyish out of convenience, not because she's a guy in a girl's body. And sorry for the long A/N, but I think is very important to stress this, because a lot of the hate the trans community gets from ignorant dunderheads comes from the belief that they're men or women who merely "dress and act" as the other sex for convenience. So there's that.
