It started as most grand things do. Inconspicuously.
For the five Pevensie children, it started with a simple game of hide-and-seek.
After they were shuttled away from their home and Mother in London to an eccentric professor's home in the countryside, and the children were at a loss of what to do.
Josephine sat with a pinched face, dark gaze fixed on the rain-soaked land surrounding Professor Kirke's home. Thoughts swirled in her mind, much like they always did, dizzying and distressing. Thoughts she couldn't voice; even if she could find the words, her siblings wouldn't listen or understand.
With the rain pouring outside, they couldn't explore like they'd planned the day they arrived. Instead, they sat in the parlor. Susan's go-to was the dictionary game, much to the others' chagrin, and she wouldn't give up on it. Peter was her unfortunate player. Prima facie. Peter guessed a Latin origin. Correct. Not that Josephine would know—which was why she wasn't playing and perhaps why she should.
If things were different—if they were back home and there was no war on and their family was alright, she would have joined in. Not with any serious guesses, to Susan's chagrin, but with whatever nonsense she could come up with.
Lucy plopped down in the alcove beside her, propped her arm on the window's edge, and rested her face on it. Josephine glanced at her, sighed, and looked outside once more.
Edmund laid on the floor with his head beneath one of the cushioned chairs. Scraping gave away his wicked acts. Even as his twin, she couldn't understand what drove him to do such things. But if she wasn't helping him, she wasn't telling on him either.
He was the topic of one of the thoughts that whirled in her mind, actually.
They were naturally close, of course. A packaged deal. They understood each other, better than anyone else, and that's how it'd been for so long.
And then war broke out and Father went away.
And now he hated her. He hated all of them. And Josephine didn't know what to do about it.
"Gastrovascular. Come on, Peter. Gastrovascular."
Josephine looked over.
Peter sighed. "Is it Latin?"
A pause. "Yes."
"Is it Latin for," Edmund paused, pulling himself out from under the chair. "Worst game ever invented?"
Peter chuckled, Susan huffed and slammed the book shut, and Josephine looked to the ceiling for the gift of patience.
Lucy got up and moved closer to the other three. "We… we could play hide and seek."
"But we're already having so much fun." Peter's voice dripped with displeasure as he looked at Susan.
"Come on, Peter, please!" Lucy whine, badgering his arm.
Josephine instinctively flicked her gaze at Edmund. Of course, Peter was going to give in. He'd had a soft spot for Lucy since she was born. They could usually laugh at it in a situation like this. Edmund met her eyes, started, and scoffed as he looked away.
Josephine set her jaw and looked back at Lucy. Prat.
"Pretty please?"
There was a long pause before a smile pulled at Peter's cheeks.
"One. Two… three…" He got up.
"What?" Edmund protested, but the game was afoot.
Due to the size of the house, they were all able to split up in their search for hiding spots. However, she was always similar to Edmund, and he was similar to her, and they wound up in the same area anyway. They resolutely ignored one another until they both went for a potential hiding spot at the same time.
He shoved her aside, and her foot caught on her other ankle, and before she knew it she was on the ground.
Pain bloomed all along her front, for she didn't manage to catch herself with her hands. Her chin stung rather bad, and her teeth and the back of her head ached. She gasped, bit down on the inside of her cheek, and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Oh, watch where you're going, Josie." Edmund snapped.
She stayed still, willing the pain to recede, and his footsteps trailed away.
Her heart twisted terribly in her chest. No matter how often he was cruel, she was never able to toughen up enough for the next go around. She didn't feel like playing anymore.
She pushed herself to her knees, her chest aching with the movement.
Peter counted on.
She scooched over to the nearest wall and sat with her back pressed to it. Her knobby knees pulled up flush to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Drip. Drip. Onto the tops of them. Two drops of red rapidly staining her pale stockings, and another drop of red hitting the front of her dress.
Bringing a hand up to her face, she frowned when her fingers came across a warm liquid pooling a dripping from the underside of her aching chin. Oh. It must be blood.
She closed her eyes when her stomach lurched and her head went like. Just breathe. Don't look at it. She wiped the blood from her fingers and from her chin without a second glance. She rested her forehead on her knees.
"Ready or not, here I come!" Peter called, and soon enough he was there.
"Josie?" Confusion and disappointed weariness weighed his voice down. "Why aren't you hiding?"
That was, apparently, just too much for her. Tears overwhelmed her, quicker than she could resist them, and poured down her cheeks. Shocked, she lifted her head, hands hovering uselessly before she pressed them to her eyes.
She sobbed.
"Oh, Josie," Peter's voice came from beside her now, and he pulled her easily into his lap. "What's the matter?"
"No-nothing." She choked out, scrubbing her eyes and cheeks.
She sucked down a heaving breath, lifted her face to the ceiling for the gift of restraint. Peter rested a light hand on her round cheek, turning her face towards him.
"Nothing? Josie, you're all bloody."
He dug around in his pocket, finally retrieving a handkerchief before he dabbed at her chin. Her head jerked away, but he held her fast until the white cloth was mottled with red.
"There, is that better?" He shoved the handkerchief into his pocket, sighing when she shrugged. "Alright, well, I've found you. How's about we look for the others together?"
The cry left her exhausted, simultaneously like she'd been scrubbed clean with steel wool and like she was packed with the stuffing that sometimes leaked from Lucy's well-loved bear. Personally, she'd rather cuddle up and take a nap. But if Peter's frazzled, beseeching smile was anything to go by, he'd much rather have her keep playing along.
Pity rang through her. Thank goodness she wasn't the eldest. Just older than Lucy.
"I suppose that sounds fun."
"Brilliant." Peter grinned, standing the both of them upright. "Because I heard Lucy just a moment ago."
They found Lucy, and Edmund as well, in a hall not far from where Josie was. A disagreement between them seemed to be winding down, cut off at the sight of the seeker. Annoyance flashed in Edmund's eyes, and he groaned, stepping out from the curtains he'd hid in.
"You know, I'm not sure you two have quite got the idea of this game." Peter glanced between them.
Lucy frowned, "Weren't you wondering where I was?"
"That's the point," Edmund stressed, unkindly. "That was why he was seeking you."
Quick footsteps from down the hall gave away another arrival. Josephine glanced back, met Susan's eyes, and shrugged at the questioning look in her eyes.
The elder girl smiled, "Does this mean I win?"
"I don't think Lucy wants to play anymore." Peter looked back at Susan.
"Well, neither do I." Josephine crossed her arms over her chest.
"But… I've been gone for hours."
There was no explaining that because hours for Lucy was seconds for all of them. Either she was right, or something was wrong, and the only way to know for sure was to check.
The room they entered was bare save for a crumpled tarp on the ground, a dead bluebottle, and a large, ornate wardrobe. Josephine could scarcely keep her eyes off it. And Josephine knew that even if it were in a packed room, it would have that same effect on her.
With Lucy's imagination, of course, she could believe it was magical.
Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, fixing them with a pointed look. They shared a helpless glance and began to investigate. Susan felt around the inside, Peter over her shoulder, while Edmund and Josephine knocked on the back of the furniture.
Josephine pointedly ignored him. Her chin ached.
There was nothing out of the ordinary about the wardrobe. They moved away from it, back to Lucy.
Susan turned towards the youngest girl, "You see? The only wood in here is the back of the wardrobe."
"One game at a time," Peter said lightly. "We don't all have your imagination."
Josephine bit her lip. Oh dear. Lucy could never hide what she felt, and Josephine could tell this much—Lucy wasn't going to let this go. The other three headed for the door, and Josephine took a half step towards Lucy before the younger girl burst out:
"But I wasn't imagining!"
Josephine winced, "Lu—"
"That's enough, Lucy." Susan's voice was soft and firm and when it was like that one knew they should quit while they were ahead. But Lucy was never the type for that.
"I wouldn't like about this." The pain in Lucy's face made her heart ache.
"Let's all take a moment to calm down." Josephine set a hand on Lucy's shoulder and squeezed gently.
But that feeling of goodwill vanished in a moment.
"Well, I believe you." The fake cheer in Edmund's voice stoked up an anger in her that Susan would consider most unladylike.
She glared at him. It was all well and good that he tormented her, she could bear that. But when he messed with Lucy, it just wasn't fair, and he had to be planning to mess with her because he wasn't the type to believe in this sort of nonsense.
"You do?" Oh, Lucy.
"Yeah, of course," He continued. "Didn't I tell you about the football fields in the bathroom cupboards?"
Peter bristled as well, cast Edmund a scathing look, and said, "Oh will you just stop? You just have to make everything worse, don't you?"
"It was just a joke," Edmund pulled back, confidence draining from his face.
And Peter proceeded to take it too far, "When are you going to learn to grow up?"
Josephine sighed.
As expected, it had the opposite effect than what she imagined Peter was going for. Edmund puffed up with rage, stormed up to Peter, and made the elder trip back a few steps.
"Shut up! You think you're Dad, but you're not!" And then her twin pushed past Susan and left.
"Well, that was nicely handled." Susan said and followed after Edmund.
Josephine sighed, shook her head, and with an absent and anxious wandering hand, prodded at the cut on her chin as she left the room.
What a mess.
a/n: ahhh! when the lww first came out (i was 6) i was obseeessed with the movie, and then i saw the sequels as they came out, and then i sort of forgot about the series. but i recently rediscovered it and i fell in love all over again!
this fic is in a different style than i usually do; i hope the dialogue and the style works well.
major thanks to my friend jane for beta'ing this for meeee!
i hope you enjoy the story and my lil gal josie, but if you don't, i'd love to know why so i can do better in the future :)