So this is just something I thought of and decided I would post it. It's kind of short but still good. It's not exactly happy, but not sad either. I believe it's realistic and what they would both feel given the situation. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The little hands, shaking from shock and fear, seemed to glare harshly back to her. When they all came stumbling back through the wardrobe the second time, she was convinced it was only a dream, a really sick and twisted dream. Eventually she would wake up to stone walls, the crackling fire and the smell of cinnamon floating through her room. But as the days passed into weeks and into months, Lucy knew she wasn't dreaming; but being herself, she refused to acknowledge the fact.
This couldn't be real.
The thought continuously burned through her brain for days.
It wasn't until this moment that it all began to sink in, the days where she realized Narnia was gone, and her siblings and herself had been thrown out. Of course you were. The thought speaks maliciously to her. No matter how painful it was, it was true. There was no way Aslan would have allowed them to stay in paradise with a sin so traitorous, so sick and perverted.
Of course the others didn't know and she thanked whatever god there was out there. If Peter had found out, she just shuttered thinking about it. Peter would have her head, and his too. Actually, he would probably have them disowned and that idea was not something she could stomach well. Family was all she had left, but her secret sin, was constantly in the background haunting her. Half of her wanted to run into Peter's arms and confess and beg for his help and forgiveness, but she knew better.
She was far in too deep for that.
She was also selfish, and the idea of not having him was more unbearable than anything. She needed him, like one needs the air to breathe. But none of that mattered now anyways, ever since the day they returned, he wouldn't even look at her, much less touch her. Lucy blamed it on her lack of beauty. She was never stunning as a child, she grew into it. Edmund on the other hand, no matter his age was always breathtaking to look upon. Of course he wouldn't want anything to do with her.
Their days made up of constant ignoring, and pretending the other didn't exist. Even Peter noticed something was off. She tried everything she knew, from simple gestures to actually approaching him. But his indifference was starking, like she was nothing more than that annoying child that wouldn't leave him alone. And finally, after months and months of getting nowhere, Lucy gave up.
She had no idea what else to do, and soon the desperation and heartache began to grow into something else, bitterness. The cold metallic taste it left on her tongue as she began to change. She was no longer that innocent eight-year old with doe eyes filled with wonder. No, she was a bitter twenty-year old woman trapped in the body of a child. She had seen the world, grown up, fallen in love and now the price for her sin was great.
Edmund had obviously moved on, and it was time she had too. So in effort to make that possible, she told Peter she wanted to stay with her great aunt in France. At first his answer was no, until she reminded him that she was no longer a child and was capable of making her own choices. The little speech nearly made him smile, considering her size, but he relented and gave in. In two days timing, she was gone.
She never told Edmund.
Sometimes like now, she wonders if he ever went out of his mind looking for her. But soon as the thought slipped, she would shake her head and scoff. Edmund cared nothing of her now, if he had he would have done something long before. But still, in moments like these, her mind goes to places of long ago where laughter filled her heart.
Memories of two young lovers running through fields and fields of flowers, without a care in the world and the story of how it all ended. How a simple kiss turned into something much more, and how innocence was lost. But none of it mattered at the time, because they were in love and despite the darkness that took over, they had each other. They even said their vows in hushed whispers in the night to the accompaniment of howling wind speaking 'till death do we part.'
But something else parted them.
And Lucy Pevensie felt as though she had died.
While months in France slipped into years, she had hundreds of letters from Peter and Susan, but from Edmund nothing. His silence spoke volumes, of the life she could never have, and of the love she would never salvage. But grow up and live she did, under the strict tutelage of her great aunt, and became quite a lady.
Her name is Lucy Pevensie, beautiful, promising, full of life and vigor.
Her name is Lucy Pevensie, her beauty is deceiving, the life in her eyes gone, and guilty of a sin so perverse, so sick it still eats her soul out.
She no longer prays at night, for praying is for the righteous and she stopped that many years ago. Still though, her dreams continue to haunt her of days of old where magic hung thickly through the air and where the trees danced. She still wonders if he even thinks of her.
Edmund stood frozen in place at the front door. His black, curly hair hung slightly into his eyes. Twenty-three again, but this time it felt different. The wonder was gone, the life too. When he and his siblings fell from that wardrobe the second time, he viewed it as a second chance. The chance to start over, and not to corrupt his innocent sister.
He should have known it was far too late for that.
Just because the clock rewound the time, and their bodies became children, they were not. They were adults frozen and trapped with no way out. The look she gave him the night he first rejected her, still haunted him to this day. You can't just stop loving someone, the one that is your other half. And for Edmund she was much more than that, she was his life.
The years of trying to do the right thing, only hurt them both more and he finally faced the fact he was just a coward. She loved him and he crucified her for it, crucified her for the very same sin he had committed and continually did so every day. In his heart he knew she was it for him, that there would never be another. Though years grew between them, he knew she could never love another the way she loved him.
So as he stood at the door of his great aunt he sucked in a nervous breath.
It was time to quit running.
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Ps: To those reading Lucifer, I swear I haven't abandoned it, I have most of the next chapter written it's just that life is hectic right now. It should be posted this weekend though! (And to those who haven't read it, I would love it if you checked it out!)
