Lost at Heart
A/N: This is my first Chronicles of Narnia story, set in between The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and Prince Caspian. It's about the struggle for the four Pevensie's after they return from Narnia for the first time (well, technically it's Lucy's third time, and Ed's second…). It includes all of the Queens and Kings of old, but it mostly centers around little Lucy. I believe that she would have the hardest time of all readjusting to living in England since Narnia made her the Valiant Queen that she was. Please, don't flame. On with the story!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Chronicles of Narnia; it belongs to the wonderful, brilliant, amazing C.S. Lewis. Aslan rest his soul.
.o.
At first all she feels is nothing.
A deep radiating numbness that spread through her body as soon as her feet touched the floor of the Professor's mansion in England.
She struggles to be herself, to not turn bitter or depressed. Narnia made her who she was, and now that she didn't have it, she felt very small, and so, so vulnerable.
Peter turned to anger. A deep sense of desperate anger made him a hostile companion. He feels like everything he had done, everything he had accomplished had been for nothing. He takes his pain out on the poor school bullies who have nothing on the boy (a brave, strong man, a born leader, a true high king) who had fought in wars. But on the inside, he was just a grown man weeping for the loss of the country he had called his kingdom. He wasn't High King Peter the Magnificent any longer, just Peter Pevensie, a quick to anger seventeen year old boy.
Susan tried to pretend that she was above all of the foolish nonsense of being lost over Narnia, but all she really was doing was pushing away the only three people in the world who understood her completely. She was no longer Queen Susan the Gentle, Lady of the Radiant Southern Sun, but instead was a girl who was insecure behind her stiff mask. Gone were the suitors, the archery contests, the balls and dresses, gone was the beautiful woman she had grown up to be. Now she was just a girl (a beautiful woman who was admired by all for her heart of gold, a queen) who was slowly falling apart inside.
Edmund remained much the same as he always was. A bit dark, and brooding, with a serious expression on his face more often than not. He was the silent support, the hand on his brother's shoulder, the arms around his older sister trembling body, the solid comfort who always watched over his baby sister. He was silent, and unwilling to talk about how he was feeling. But his eyes told a different story. The calculating dark brown eyes, that were once so full of wisdom and amusement, now were full of uncertainty and loss. He grieved privately over the loss of his own importance, feeling he was forever doomed to be the shadow of his brother's greatness. He wasn't King Edmund the Just, just a young boy (a wise young man who learned from his mistakes, a king) from Finchley who was good at chess and disappearing into the darker corners of his mind.
But Lucy, she was the most worrying of all of them. Gone was the happy care-free little girl who had danced through life with a smile that warmed even the coldest of nights. In her place was a little girl (a strong, independent woman, a queen) who was truthfully a little lost at heart.
But despite their different methods of 'coping' (enduring), they still had one thing that they had always had: each other. They would absently drift towards each other, and be each other's silent comfort. Peter would put his arms around Lucy, who would have her head in Susan's lap, and Susan would be resting her head against Edmund's shoulder, and he would be humming a soft tune to comfort all of his siblings. Rarely would they speak, but they didn't need to because over the fourteen years that they had been monarchs of Narnia, they had come to know what each other is thinking at any given time.
.o.
The mornings were always the hardest for Lucy. Each dawn she would awake from dreams that held dancing trees, laughing fauns, grand feasts, soaring griffins, extravagant balls, galloping unicorns, and of course Him, the Great Lion Aslan. Each night she would dream of a world where she was Queen Lucy the Valiant, but each morning she would wake up to be seven year old (twenty-eight year old) Lucy Pevensie.
Before she would get dressed, Lucy would stare absently into the mirror in her washroom, and struggle to picture herself as a grown woman. She would run her fingers through her shoulder length blonde hair, and imagine it to be grown out to her waist in smooth waves. She would pretend to be taller, with elegant curves and colorful dresses. She would see her silver crown, resting comfortably on her head.
She would successfully hold the thought in her head for a moment, before it slowly slipped between her outstretched fingers, leaving her grasping empty air. One thing that hadn't changes, however, was her eyes. Oreis the brave centaur who she had fought beside in many battles once told her that the eyes told the story of a person's soul. They spoke of wisdom, experience, and years. Now she believed him, for her eyes still retained the age her body did not.
The sky blue orbs would stare back at her from her reflection, and hold a certain sadness, but also a fierce belief.
For though she was mourning, never did she once imagine that Aslan had abandoned them. She truly believed that He had had good reason, though she didn't know what that was. ("Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia.")
Eventually, once she had mourned her loss, and braved herself for another day, she would rip herself away from the mirror and dress before heading downstairs to help Susan with breakfast.
.o.
Lucy found herself being drawn into the library of Professor Kirke's extensive mansion. There she would bury herself in dusty old books and read of world where the dashing prince saved the beautiful princess from the hideous beast. She could lose herself in daydreams, and forget the world around her for a while. She loved the adventurous tales that so reminded her of her true home (Narnia).
It was here that she first got her idea. After finishing the last of the Professor's fantasy books, she realized that she wanted to tell her own story. She found some parchment and an old quill, and wrote.
She slowly and carefully wrote down every adventure, every detail of every memory that she could recall from her time in Narnia. She told of the Wardrobe, the White Witch, her lovely friend Mr. Tumnus. She wrote about meeting Aslan, of gaining her trusty dagger and her healing cordial. She described the fantastic feasts, her wonderful coronation, and of each and every adventure she and her siblings went on as Kings and Queens of Narnia.
In the margins she drew colorful pictures to display her vivid 'imagination' (memories of a time well spent). Susan cried with both sorrow and joy when she saw it, Peter smiled sadly, and Edmund's eyes twinkled with more life than they had for quite some time.
.o.
Slowly, life regained a sense of normality. The four brother and sisters learned to put the sadness behind them (mostly) and be happy of the time they had had there in that wonderful, beautiful, magical place. Sometimes though, Lucy would wake up and fear would set deep in her heart, fear that it had all been the most perfect dream. Each morning she felt like that, she would pull out her book, and reread the words she had diligently put down on the paper. She would trace her fingers over the inked in letters and the bright pictures until she was certain that it was real.
The war soon ended, which seemed almost surreal to the Pevensie children (monarchs). They traveled home, to greet there mother. Mrs. Pevensie wasn't the only one crying that day. The siblings had missed their mother greatly while in Narnia. Aslan had once told them that she had been safe and sound while they were gone. Now they know why: No time had passed, so of course she was fine. She had been frozen in time (not that she knew that of course) and hadn't know that her children had left the world she called home. (Once, her children did too, but now when they mentioned 'home', they referred to somewhere else entirely.)
Mrs. Pevensie noticed a change in her children (who weren't really children at all), but she just couldn't put her finger on it.
Something had caused them all to change. It was the way Peter carried himself with a new found confidence, and the way that Susan wasn't too shy to help those in need anymore. She saw how Edmund had finally grown up (more literally than she realized), and no longer argued with his brother over every little thing. Lucy was the most different than all of them now, with the ever present look in her wise eyes that said she had a secret that she held close to her heart.
Mrs. Pevensie idly wondered what had changed them so much over the year that they had been gone. (She would never believe them if they told her the truth however.)
.o.
Lucy found that dancing was very therapeutic for her. Every afternoon she would go into the Pevensie home's backyard, kick off her uncomfortable shoes, and twirl through the air. Her bare feet would brush against the cool earth as she spun faster and faster, losing herself into a world of dreams.
For a moment, between the intakes of her fast breaths, she could almost feel the lovely softness of her favorite dress that she wore in Narnia, instead of the rough wool of her school uniform skirt. She could imagine that she was in the gardens of Cair Paravel, and that the sun warming her shoulders was in the bright Narnian sky.
As she danced, she would sometimes feel eyes on the back of her head, and she knew that Edmund was watching. The two of them had always loved to dance to the lyrical sound of the Narnian flutes played by the fauns.
She would close her eyes and tilt her face towards the sky, a small smile gracing her youthful face. When she was dancing she was free, and she was unbeatable. It was a beautiful feeling.
.o.
Going back to school was difficult for all of them. It had felt increasingly strange to force themselves back into the routine of getting an education. It bewildered Mrs. Pevensie to no end because before the war had ended, before they had gone to the Professor's, she had listened to them talk endlessly about how they had missed going to school every day.
They had all already finished their studies while in Narnia, so listening to their stiff-backed teachers drone on and on about science, arithmetic, and history was dull and monotonous. At lunch they would sit next to each other and speak in low voices about things that they had learned about, such as sword fighting, archery, and the history of Narnia.
The four of them began to feel suffocated, weighted down by the polluted air in England. As each day passed, the more they longed for open country air whipping past their faces as they rode through the Shuttering Woods on their faithful horses (and, in Peter's case, a unicorn).
.o.
Eventually, school days melted into summer, but the four former monarchs of Narnia barely acknowledged the change. They spent the long hot days lying in the backyard and recounting stories of their adventures. Sometimes they would laugh, sometimes they would cry, but they would do it together. The four of them together, the great Kings and Queens of Narnia, were unbeatable to the last.
.o.
As they walked through the crowded train station, ready to board the train that would take them back to school, Lucy could feel something stir inside of her. She paused outside for a moment, letting her siblings walk on, and her eyes came to rest on a great marble statue of a roaring lion. She took a deep breath, and felt her lungs fill with cool, refreshing air despite the heavy smog that filled the station air. In her mind she heard His voice. "It is time, Dear One."
She glanced around as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up into the dark brown eyes of Edmund, and smiled. Ed put his arm around her small shoulders and led her towards their brother and sister.
"Come on Lu, it's time to go. Everything will be alright." He said softly to his little sister.
Lucy's eyes twinkled, and in that moment she resembled her true Valiant self. "Yes, I imagine it will be."
.o.
A/N: Review?