Welcome
Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia. Only my own characters.
A/N
I have not read the Chronicles of Narnia and I'm going loosely off the movies, filling in the blanks with my imagination with what I think makes sense. This is a fairly slow moving fic at the moment but I hope you stick with me.
Important: As I mentioned, I have not read the books and am filling in the blanks myself. I'm following the ages of the children in the movie universe (roughly). And the boarding schools are co-ed. Takes place after LWW but before PC.
Officially the first day of classes and I've given up hope already. Standing in the doorway of the classroom, I look at the dark haired boy sitting in the desk in the back corner closest to the window. Sitting in the exact the spot I want. I clench my fist and begrudgingly sit in the desk to his left. It'll have to do. Looking around the classroom, the teacher has written his name on the board and is at the large oak desk, focusing on the novel in his hands while other students flock in clusters, creating a white noise of small talk. Reprimanding myself for not coming sooner, I let out a small sigh. Well, we can't have everything we want now can we? Class starts.
Ten minutes in and my eyes have already glazed over, my gaze lackadaisically switching between the clock and the teacher. I swear his monotone voice is slowing my heart rate, I think to myself sarcastically. I don't know how much longer I can last before it becomes dangerous. Then again, I guess it is my own fault for enjoying reading history books since I know more about Napoleon's conquests than I guess I'm supposed to. Though, I still can't help feeling like I'm being punished for something that most parents are trying to convince their child to do. Glancing out at the window, I catch a glimpse of the boy. He doesn't look like he's doing much better off than I.
Xcxcxcxcxc
It's only the eighth day when I begin to crumble again. Not even two weeks in. I told myself as soon as I got on that train from the country that no matter what happened when I got off, I would stay strong. Yet, here I am, disappointing myself again.
Soft tears fall across my cheeks and I blink, letting them spill over to their full extent. I wipe them away on the sleeves of my uniform and pull my handkerchief from my pocket to wipe my nose.
I'm a mess. I know everyone would say I have the right to be a mess after stepping off that train to find out that my Mother was gone. But I'm better than that. At least, I'd hoped I was. I had already let myself cry and I'd pushed down my feelings so they appeared less now but, here I was again; sobbing into my uniform. Other people have better reasons to cry. At least my father was still alive (or in theory anyway since no letters have come in). A final thought glistens past my mind jolting me from my disposition. Mother wouldn't want to see you cry. I let out a breath. I need to find a distraction.
Placing my handkerchief in my pocket, I pull my socks up, re-tie my hair and walk to the one place I know I will always find comfort.
The library is smaller than I expected for a school of this size. Containing only a handful of tables and desks, it's clear that this library isn't used enough to be a replacement for the study hall in the other wing. The low light cascading through the large windows adds an almost eerie tinge, overpowering the warm glow of the lamps fastened in between the shelves. Despite the less than ideal space, my eyes still twinkle with a sense of awe and excitement as I gaze at the perfectly sufficient amount of books; unfamiliar and waiting to be opened.
I walk to the closest shelf, messenger bag swinging limply against my hip as I let my fingers dance across the spines, eyes quickly skimming the titles. Letters to Juliet. A Romance to Remember. Only You, Dearest. I stop abruptly. I'm in the wrong section.
Hastily, I walk to the row over, hoping to be as far away as possible from the romance section, stopping as a title catches my eye. Understanding Innovation: A Machinist's Guide to How Things Work. I pull it out of the shelf and loosely flip through the pages before putting it back. Maybe some other time. I keep walking further. The King's Temptation. The medieval themed cover catches my attention and I gloss over the plot synopsis before taking it to a desk, eyes never leaving the book, and indulge myself.
The moon is in the sky by the time I leave, a mere half hour before closing. My bag is heavy with a few books ranging from history to novels. As much as I like to know things, I do enjoy going on adventures. As make believe as they are. I blush in mild embarrassment at this thought. Passing a range of classrooms and empty halls, I exit the building and cut across the moonlit courtyard to the dorms. Finding the girls floor, my head hits my pillow and I fall asleep with more ease than I had in days.
Xcxcxcxcx
The bell rings signalling the end of classes for the day. Collecting my books, my head perks up at the small group of girls coming way. I recognize the one red head as my roommate, Rachel.
"Violet," I stand up straighter and look at her company. "This is Heather, Tracy and Julia. We're going to meet with Stephanie at the gates and then go look at some of the dresses in the shops. Want to come?" I bite my lip. Do I really want to subject myself to that kind of torture?
At my hesitation, Tracy, a joyful looking girl with hair braided to perfection speaks. "There's a shop on Main. I hear they have new colours for the fall season!" Rachel and them giggle with excitement. I smile politely.
"Thank you, Rachel. But I'm afraid I must be heading to the library." A catch what I think is a trace of hurt in her eyes.
"Well, all right. But do come next time."
"I'll see you back at the room, tonight." I say, not wishing to reject her hinted second invitation.
When they're almost out of earshot, I catch snippets of their conversation.
"She's kind of a weirdo."
"I mean, who spends that much time at the library." Short giggles.
"She's not that bad. She's just…" I don't catch Rachel's defense as they round the corner.
Rachel. I let out a sigh. Bless her soul for trying to include me but I can't, or rather won't bring myself to join her and her friends on their money wasting exploits mixed with mindless gossip. I don't understand the use in spending money on dresses when one can only wear them on weekends and off the school grounds. I'm also pretty awful at the business of makeup, knowing from when I've tried a time or two previous. I'd rather just not deal with all of that.
Perhaps I'm too harsh. I respect them for wanting to look nice and I know they would probably jump at the chance to help me be more presentable with lipstick and the like but, knowing Stephanie, and over-hearing the harsh words of gossip from their mouths, I think I'd rather live in my books. I can only hope Rachel doesn't get burned too badly.
Closing the final book, I thumb the pamphlet that I took off the bulletin in front of the library. I'd been using it as a bookmark to remind myself but today is the day. I read the sheet, "Fencing Club. Fridays at 3pm. All are welcome." I take in a nervous breath and set off to find the grand hall. I had done a few months of fencing prior to the war and though I had to stop when I was away due to the air raid scares, I had been intending to come back to it. It was a good way of getting my body to move and I can only imagine the pain that's going to be involved returning to the sport since I've become decently nonathletic in the past year or so.
Despite the fencing club's poor equipment and consisting mostly of boys in upper years, and a handful of girls (also in upper years), I enjoyed myself quite a bit. I can feel my arm aching at having to keep the foil raised in the air for the hour block, not to mention my sore legs. The sweat is dripping down my forehead and I feel gross in my gym clothes, all of which attesting to my lack of physical ability. However, the coach is nice and the other students don't bother me, even if they ignore me except to have a duel. It's probably just because I'm a two years or so younger than they are. Reaching my room, I change back into my school uniform and head out the door to the library. I think I'll go to the fencing club more regularly. I chuckle to myself. God knows I need to exercise.
Sifting through the rows, I pick up a book and turn, freezing in place. It's the boy from my class, sitting at a desk with a stack of books. His eyebrows are etched in focus at the one cracked open before him. I never took him for the reading type with how dazed he always looks in class. A thought strikes me. Maybe he's bored for the same reason that I am. I take a tentative step closer. Curiosity flutters in my chest and I unconsciously squeeze the books in my arms.
Walking by his desk, I purposely glance down at the stack, attempting to read the spines without being obvious. The moment passes too soon for me to make out the titles and my shoulders slump slightly in defeat as I continue by. Shaking him from my mind, I sign out the my books and find a desk far away from his. I see his head glance up at mine before returning back to his own materials.
Thanks for reading!
A/N
I know not much really happened in this chapter, just laying out a bit of foundation. Should pick up in the next chapter or so. Also. if anyone could clarify me on the timeline of events of the Pevensies in England that would be greatly appreciated (have done inconclusive research).
Another note, I'm bit unhappy with how the events have been laid out in this chapter so I might polish it up after posting. Suggestions and constructive criticism greatly appreciated!
Will be posting next chapter hopefully in a week or so.