Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia, all characters, places, and related terms belong to C.S. Lewis. The plot is mine.
Author's Note: Here is a story quite different from what I usually write for CoN; I'm a bit nervous posting it. Takes place after The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
Blest be the Tie that Binds
The professor gazes about the cafe, smiling when he spots a woman slowly making her way, with the help of a cane, towards the table where he sits by a window. Their eyes meet, a wide smile brightens her wrinkled face, and her eyes twinkle. He rises as she nears.
"Mrs. Smith," he greets her, helping her seat herself in the chair across the table before returning to his seat.
"Professor Kirke," she says in return. "I fear I have kept you waiting."
"Not at all," he assures her. "I am glad you could come."
She nods. "I do not get around as much I used to," she sighs.
"Indeed," he agrees.
They give their orders to a waiter.
"How is your family?" the professor asks once the waiter leaves.
His friend's face brightens once more. "They are all doing well. Libby and John's little Rose is almost one year, and a lovely little thing she is! When I hold her, I realize just how old I am."
"And…James is…" Professor Kirke trails off questioningly.
"…is going to take part in the war," Mrs. Smith confirms in a steady voice. However, the sparkle in her blue eyes dims, replaced by worry.
Their tea arrives, and she bestows a smile on the waiter as he serves her and the professor before departing.
"He believes it is the right thing for him to do," she goes on. "Margaret is supportive but also fearful for him. They shall marry before he leaves." She sips some of her tea.
"And you, how do you feel about your son's decision?" Professor Kirke asks quietly, concern swimming in his dark eyes.
"I am proud of him, but also sad and scared. I shall worry like every mother whose child is taking part in this. I dare not dwell on the thought of losing a second loved one while they fought for their country."
The professor gently clasps one of her small wrinkled hands in his. She meets his gaze.
"I do not desire for Margaret to become a widow at such a young age, as did I long ago," she whispers with deep emotion.
"Nor do I," he replies.
She tries to laugh. "Now look at where I am after all these years!" she says.
"You have two wonderful children who have grown up much too quickly, a son-in-law and soon-to-be daughter-in-law who love you dearly. And you have a beautiful grandchild," the professor answers seriously.
Mrs. Smith gives him a small smile and squeezes his hand.
"And I still have a friend who has been with me through joys and sorrows for many long years. You forgot to mention him," she chuckles.
"Ah, well," he bristles, feeling his cheeks heat up a little.
A companionable silence falls over them as they drink their tea and watch the people walking up and down the sidewalk outside the window.
"It amazes me how love and romance can live in such dark, uncertain times," the man muses softly, his eyes lingering on a young couple who walk by hand in hand.
"Perhaps it is one of those mysteries which cannot be explained." Mrs. Smith says, her gaze following the happy couple. "It brings back memories of my youth, in the midst of young love. Such happy years!"
"You were fortunate," he agrees with a sigh. "My aunt was proved correct: here I am – an old bachelor."
Mrs. Smith glances at him, almost puzzled. "I never pictured you as such when we were younger. You were so handsome. I believe you stirred many young hearts. You seemed destined to have a family."
Her friend smiles, a bit sadly, and strokes his whitening beard. "Once I had such dreams and desires. But I closed that book and put it on a shelf. The heartbreak was too much," he confesses.
The lady frowns, thinking. She lifts up her left hand, and the sunlight pouring in the window catches the diamond in the wedding ring, igniting and explosion of dancing sparkles and colors. Her frown melts to an expression of wistful sadness and remembrance.
"Even after so many years, I still miss him. The loneliness, disbelief, and pain are sometimes as fresh as the day when I first heard the dreadful news," she says as she lowers her hand to the table.
"We all miss Edward."
The professor is surprised when his words are met with a light laugh. Mrs. Smith smiles apologetically for her seemingly inappropriate behavior. "I am sorry. I just recalled the boy who told me that Edward was not the right one for me and for the longest time did not get along with him before the boy miraculously had a change of heart," she explains.
Her friend shrugs. "Ah, the boy was simply a bit protective of his friend and did not think Edward was worthy of her…but then the boy's eyes were opened to the error of his ways. And his friend was united with her first and only true love!"
Mrs. Smith blushes and chuckles but does not correct him. Still a boy at heart, he is.
"And she forgave her friend, and they are still the best of friends," she adds with amusement.
"The best of friends…" he echoes. "If she were wise, she would have never spoken to him again."
"Their friendship is special. There are secrets between us no one else in the world knows about."
"Too true; one wonders what…" the professor trails off absently. Rousing himself from his thoughts, he takes an envelope from his coat pocket and holds it out to Mrs. Smith.
"This is something for you," he explains as she takes it from him. "I have four children staying with me from London."
"How are you faring?"
"They are good children, but who knows what they are being taught at the schools these days!"
She grins.
He becomes serious. "They have been someplace particular which you will read about." He motions to the letter.
Mrs. Smith eyes the letter before meeting the professor's eyes, suspicion and wonder in them. He simply nods.
"Then I shall read it as soon as I have a quiet moment to myself," she promises, reaching for her cane and slowly standing. "It has been a pleasure seeing you again, Professor Kirke."
"And you," he says, kissing her hand. "Give my greetings to your family."
"I will. Good day to you, Digory."
"And good day to you, Polly."
THE END