Hello! This is my first fanfiction for this fandom so any all reviews or constructive feedback would be helpful! Enjoy

Chapter 1

In the kitchen of her modest London home, Mrs Helen Pevensie muttered to herself as her eyes darted furtively across the telegram in her hand, whose words contained news she never wanted to have received in the first place. Or in any place or time. In her disbelief, she re-read the letter in her hand once more, this time slower that she might digest the words on the page and leave out any misunderstandings.

But, what kind of misunderstandings can one get from such a clear statement?

She dropped her hand as she felt herself age a decade more than her genuine age. Tiredness seeped into her bones as stress and worry invaded her mind, not for the first time today.

With the sun beginning to set, the worry and stress she was feeling at that moment was not to go away 'til the dawning of the sun, as German air raids had begun again, a living hell that forced one from their warm beds and sent running into the frigid night air, just to arrive to safety ("why can we not sleep instead in the air raid shelters?").

With all this in mind, she found that she just had to accept what the contents of the letter contained, its devastating nature and its terrible consequences quickly; the war will wait for no one in their grief. There will be time to grieve after the war. But what to tell her children? Her children might not take to this news very well. They may see it as a competition or as another piece of news that will provide more sadness that will hover over their heads. But those poor children…

The future looked bleak in the light of this new news (not that it already didn't look bleak with the war raging round them). Speaking of bleak, Mrs Pevensie looked to her wristwatch and realised that she should be preparing their supper now before air raids can prevent them from eating in the comfort of an actual table.

"Susan!"

She called down her eldest daughter, desperate for some help to accomplish the plethora of tasks that need to be tackled before air raids could potentially start. The cutting of carrots needed to be tended to, the boiling of peas needed to be overseen…

Footsteps began to resound throughout the house as Susan came down. In careful ladylike steps, she trotted to the foot of the stairs and landed at the bottom with a subtle flourish. With her, she carried an air of maturity that, for a twelve year old like herself, seemed artificial in its execution but was nonetheless real. Despite that, her grace was genuine, her gentle nature was unfeigned (it was plain for any to see) and her features showed promise of a great beauty in the far future, that is of course when she has naturally matured physically.

The hurry of needing to accomplish tasks was clear on Susan's face when she had arrived at the entrance of the kitchen. Her mother didn't need to tell her, she could tell just how much needed to be done in a short amount of time. In the middle of cutting thin slices of beef, Mrs Pevensie turned around to find Susan pushing up her sleeves slightly to get started on the dinner.

Mrs Pevensie released a sigh of relief. "Susan, prepare the vegetables then go set the table." She said to Susan as she hastily cut the beef to cook. From the corner of her peripheral view, she saw Susan give a slight nod before scurrying to wash her hands at the sink. "Where is Edmund?"

The answer didn't come from Susan- rather; it didn't need to be answered by either of the ladies. Hurried stomps came down the staircase. As dark-haired as his sister, Edmund was not as gentle as she, as evidenced by his steps, which were reminiscent of his personality.

"I'm here!" He declared.

Mrs Pevensie turned to him after leaving the beef to cook in a pan. She was surprised by what she was greeted with. Despite his usual rosy pallor, Edmund's cheeks were unusually pale. It was as if a white dust had descended upon his cheeks and settled there.

She rushed forward, grabbing a corner of her apron to wipe his cheeks with. "Oh Edmund," She sighed. "Had I not told you not to eat sweets before supper? Especially Turkish Delight, you might finish you supply too quickly and then you might not get any for months." She wiped his cheeks and the corners of his mouth thoroughly as he grimaced, but secretly, he delighted in the attentions his mother showered him in.

"Mum!" He whined. "That burns!"

She quickly dropped her apron and instead caressed his cheeks soothingly. "Is that better now?" She asked.

Edmund nodded his head vigorously, and she in turn kissed his cheek. Susan saw it as she entered the kitchen with a jug that needed refilling and rolled her eyes at the display. "Mum, I don't think that you should continue to treat Edmund like a child."

Edmund glared at her. Their mother tutted at that. "Why ever should I stop it? He is still a child."

Susan let the tap gush water into the jug she had been holding and watched as it filled the hollow container. "But he's becoming a brat!" She gestured openly to her glaring brother.

Pausing, Mrs Pevensie turned to look at Edmund, really look at him. All she saw was her son; but as she looked back and reflected upon their memories she had with him. She sighed as she begun to realise he was indeed growing up and she couldn't continue to treat him thus. Well, maybe just a little. "I'll try not to treat him like a little boy-"

"Mum!"

"But he is still a child, so I will try to compromise, dear." Mrs Pevensie finished after having been interrupted. She scooped up their dinner into serving dishes and gestured for Susan to take them.

Susan could only inwardly roll her eyes and instead gave her mother an imperceptible nod to say that it wasn't what she was asking for but it was the best she was going to get. She took the dishes from her mother before hurrying to set it on the table with both her brother and her mother in tow, the latter carrying the jug of water Susan had previously left.

Sitting in their respective seats, they held each other's hands as they said the grace before meal. With their eyes screwed shut, Mrs Pevensie didn't see Edmund clenching Susan's hand just a tad bit too tight. It was no surprise then that when they had finally let go that Susan was the quickest to retract her hand, rubbing it soothingly under the table to let the blood flow through it again. As both Susan and Edmund scooped their food into their plates, Mrs Pevensie took a deep breath as she readied herself for what she was about to reveal.

"I have something I need to tell you two," She began unsteadily, her voice and fingers jittering with nervousness. "And it is something very important."

Both her children looked to her, though Edmund's was more curiousity rather than the actual concern his sister showed. "Do either of you remember your Uncle James?"

Susan smiled fondly at the memories that replayed in her mind as she replaced the serving spoon in her hand. "Yes. I think he is father's cousin; it's been ages since we've seen them- him and his family."

Edmund frowned. He looked to both Mrs Pevensie and Susan, with his eyebrows creased in confusion. "I can't seem to remember him."

"It's alright, dear." Mrs Pevensie said reassuringly, patting his hand comfortingly. "It's been many years and with times such as these, one tends to blur memories in their minds."

A heavy curtain woven from grief and awkwardness draped itself upon the once lighter atmosphere; talking about the viciousness of war had become a sort of unspoken taboo in the house. It became too much of a sensitive subject and the inhabitants of the Pevensie household were desperate to go back to happier times.

All the same, Mrs Pevensie cleared her throat and persevered on the topic, as pressing as it was. "Well, your Uncle James had died two months ago, a gas attack (so it goes) in the Front. His wife, your Aunt Evelyn, got sick very quickly after hearing the news and died just this weekend."

A pause came and Edmund's expression morphed into one of extreme confusion. "So, how does this actually concern us?" He asked. "Are you telling us we have to be present for the funeral now?"

Susan frowned at him. "Edmund!" She chided.

"It's not only that, dear." She said slowly. "It's that their children, Peter and Lucy, have nowhere else to go except an orphanage."

Susan's eyes widened at that. "You don't mean-"

"Yes!-Let them come live with us!" Edmund approved wholeheartedly. "I can finally have someone to play chess with, rather than have to listen to Susan drone on about words that I'll never use ever in my life."

Relief flooded through Mrs Pevensie's mind as Edmund gave his seal of approval to her niece and nephew coming to live with them indefinitely. It might certainly give the house more life, having more children underneath its roof. But worry entered once more as she realised how much more she will have to work to feed more people on a daily basis. She consoled herself with the thought that it will all be worth it one day.

"You don't hear me complaining when I'm forced to play chess with you!" Susan cried. Mrs Pevensie smiled at the thought of her children's mindless banter.

"You don't hear me complaining either when you play with me!" Edmund shot back.

Their mother watched on as they continued to bicker, allowing them this normalcy- despite Susan's mortification of pride. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Edmund rolled his eyes to emphasise his point. "That you are one of the worst players I have ever had the misfortune to play with."

Susan's eyebrows shot up in obvious glee as she pointed at him, despite his insulting of her. "Ha!- I actually taught you that word, misfortune, a week back! And you say you'll never use these words in your life! You should be thanking me." She looked smug, crossing her arms and leaning her back against her chair like that.

"Why would I want to thank you when you are filling my head with useless nonsense?" Edmund sneered.

"Because you are actually making use of that so-called 'useless nonsense', that's what." Susan replied, feeling proud of herself.

"Then I should tell you," their mother interrupted their conversation. "That they will be arriving tomorrow, before noon. In preparation for their arrival, I expect you both to make sure that your bedrooms are tidy and that the guest room is clean, tidy and prepared for them. They may want to retire for an afternoon nap; as you know, travelling is very tiring especially for you youngsters."

"They're coming already?" Came Susan's outburst.

"I haven't prepared anything yet." Edmund looked agitated; he never liked being caught unaware. He liked being one step ahead of everyone. "Will you excuse me from dinner? I'd finished and I'd like to clean up my room."

Before Mrs Pevensie could say anything, Edmund tucked in his chair and scurried up the stairs with loud stomps. Susan didn't make a move, the smug smile was gone. It was as if it was never there. Mrs Pevensie could see the obvious distaste. "Are you not excited that your cousins are coming? You haven't seen them in ages." She asked Susan quietly.

"No, but that doesn't matter." Susan replied shortly but in a polite manner, her tone blank. She sighed as she played with her food. "May I be excused? I need to tidy up my room."

There was a tone of finality in her voice, but her mother doubted that she would be doing as she had said. She gave a nod of her head and Susan let her fork clatter on the plate as she stood up to make her way to the staircase, leaving her mother with only herself for company.

As she climbed up the staircase in silence to her bedroom, Susan fumed from the inside. Could they not have gone somewhere else? She rationalised that everyone else may have gone out of town. Susan was certainly not looking forward to being reunited with them, but she talked herself into realising that she had to allow this, else her cousins will be homeless and no one deserved that sort of fate (in her mind at least). So, she stayed quiet for the rest of the evening for the sake of not ruining this moment of charity from her brother's part, even when the air raid had happened, even when she had been frightened half to death, she hadn't made a noise.

A/N: I'll try to update this as much as I can, but with exam season on, it will prove to be difficult for me. As for my A Patient Pawn readers, I'm a bit stuck on how to continue but don't fear! I have almost finished writing the new chapter! It's just a matter of finishing it and finding the time to post it. Cheers, Nemo xoxo