AU: I didn't get too many thoughts or complaints from the first chapter, so I hope you all are satisfied with the beginning of this story. Here is chapter two, for your enjoyment. This chapter is set a month after the previous, but for future reference, this will not always be the same. There will be instances where a lapse of a few months, or even a year or two will pass.

WARNING: For crude language.

~Hereafter~

Chapter Two – June, 1942 — August, 1942

June, 1942

The next month was spent catching up with their families and friends they had known before their relocation, and spending time with each other before the two eldest left for university. They both had received letters of their acceptance: Peter passing with flying colors, while Alexa had barely made excellence, but achieved a high enough mark. By the end of June, the two were encouraged to start packing. They would be expected to move into their respective dorms within the month of July, no earlier than the first week, no later than the last.

"This isn't right. We only just got here all together, and now we'll be splitting up again," said Lucy. The five sat together in the park closest to the Pevensie home, about half a mile away. The mild, summer day was bright with the sun, not a cloud in the sky. The light breeze toyed with the loose hems of their clothing and tossed the girls' hair.

"We're not that far. You can always call," said Peter.

"And we'll call you too," added Alexa with a grin. "We need to know what's going on in your school lives."

"I'll be at the top of my class, for sure," Susan said in mock vanity. Edmund rolled his eyes.

"Sure, I bet she'll bludgeon someone to death just to get the highest marks on record." She gave him a simmering glare.

"And you'll be the class clown," Susan quipped. "Dunce cap and all."

"People love me for my maturity," he boasted.

"People love to laugh at your pranks," muttered Lucy. Alexa held her hands in the shape of a square in front of her face, focusing Edmund's head into the square.

"What are you doing?" Edmund asked.

"Picturing you with a dunce cap."

"I say it fits," said Peter as he also looked through her hands. Edmund rolled his eyes once again and pushed his brother over with a hand to Peter's shoulder, knocking over Alexa as well.

"Hey!" Peter said with a laugh.

"Oof, get off! You're heavy!" said Alexa, pushing again him with her arm, though she laughed with everyone else. They enjoyed the afternoon in the sun, reminiscing about past-times spent and gatherings in the future.

June came and went in a blur, preceding the more saturating heat July would bring. About midway through the month, the two eldest gathered their belongings, and took the train into London. There were heartfelt (and tearful, from the women) goodbyes from family members, including Peter's siblings. The three wished the two luck (well, Edmund wished his brother good sense, as he didn't believe in luck), while John Pevensie gave his son wise words.

"Live your life—every day to the fullest. Take nothing for granted, and keep your self-respect and respect for others," he had said, firmly clasping his son's shoulder and hand.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Remember that, and you can never go wrong."

"I'll remember."

The ride was long, seemed longer than it truly was, but it stirred anticipation within the two. They wondered about their schedules, possible roommates within their dorms, other things they would be given.

"We'll go to the front office and pick up our things once we get there. Do you know where your room is?" Peter asked.

"Um, I think it's on the right side of the dormitories. The section is only for freshmen women."

"I'm on the left then, obviously. You decided on Global History Studies for your major?"

"Yes, it was the closest thing to what I was doing before with the maps. Yes, I love geography, but I decided to brush up on European history."

"Where do you think you'll take that as a career?" Alexa paused in thought for a moment.

"You know, I don't really know. I hadn't thought that far…"

"I had thought of teaching, but I'm not sure."

"I think you would be a good teacher," she said with a smile.

"You think so?"

"You always explained things for the exam wonderfully for me. I would think hard about it."

"Hmm, perhaps," he said. There the conversation drifted to other things, where they would probably go to work on assignments and projects, what locations were exceptional for meals, places to go for entertainment in the town of London. Eventually, the train stopped at the station. They gathered their belongings, and a cabby took them to the busy town of *Ashbridge, where crowds of people bustled the wide sidewalks, automobiles and cabbies loudly honked their horns and filled the streets. Both Peter and Alexa looked out their windows in the vehicle. They marveled at the many colorful buildings and shops and elegant scenery made by lights, city statues, and decorative greenery. And finally, they pulled up by the lobby. Outside the glass, double doors, two large banners hung on either side of a wide sign. It read, University of Ashbridge.

"It's amazing," Alexa said in awe after they had vacated the cab and paid the driver.

"It's quite impressive, I'll admit," Peter replied. He led them to the front office, where a plump woman, in a dress a tad too small for her, sat at a large desk and peered up at them from her clipboard through silver-rimmed glasses.

"May I help you?" she asked shortly.

"Yes," Peter began, clearing his throat awkwardly. "We would like what we need for the start of our year here…in the letter it said that the front desk would have what we need."

"Yes, hold on a moment please. Oh, what are your names?"

"Peter Pevensie and Alexa Williams." The woman proceeded to gather information, looking through extensive files in the long drawers packed to the brim in her desk. In about ten minutes, she had pulled out all the things they would need: identification cards that affirmed them as students of Ashbridge, keys to their rooms, meal cards if they wished to eat in the cafeteria, and schedules of the few classes they would have to take per day in a five-day school week. It held the feel of a more sophisticated high school.

"I guess I will see you later, then?" Alexa asked, standing a bit awkwardly with her luggage. Their rooms were on opposite ends of a lot designated to the dormitories.

"Meet for lunch at that restaurant we saw on the map in an hour?" Peter suggested.

"Sure," she said with a smile.

"All right then, see you then." He gave her a chaste kiss before schlepping his luggage up the two flights of steps to the room. He took his time unpacking as he viewed his surroundings. The bedroom was small, but the dorm itself was like a small apartment. It had its own kitchen, bathroom, and three bedrooms. There was a moderate living space with a coffee table and a three-part furniture set: a couch, two end tables on either side of it, a smaller love seat, and a recliner. The room was very nice, he thought. It was a good thing they had gotten scholarships, or else he or his family would not have been able to afford this nice place. Alexa's mother would not have been able to afford this luxury either.

By the time he had finished packing it was about time to meet Alexa for lunch. He grabbed his keys and his wallet before leaving.

"Did you finish unpacking?" he asked after taking another sip of water.

"No," Alexa sighed. "Almost. I have too much stuff."

"I would have helped you carry your bags up the stairs if I had known," said Peter.

"No, it was fine. They weren't that heavy."

"Still…"

"Anyways, what do you have for your schedule?"

"First thing at eight in the morning, I have…" They proceeded to exchange what they would be having over the course of a semester term, and things of what Peter's siblings could possibly be doing.

"Susan's probably already getting ready for school, practicing her grammar," Peter mused with a smile.

"Ed is probably getting in all the rest he can before he'll have to start waking early," said Alexa.

"And trying to drag his sisters into activities outside."

"Lucy will…just be Lucy."

"Never let anything take the smile off of her face," Peter said wryly. It was with a pang that he felt the absence of his family. It hadn't even been a day and he already missed them.

"I know," said Alexa. She could read the look in his eyes, because she felt the same.

"That was delicious. I can't believe I actually had leftovers," said Peter as they walked up the stairs to his dorm.

"I know, but my sandwich was huge. I couldn't finish," she agreed. He opened the door with his key and they entered the room. She set her box of food on the counter as he put his away in the refrigerator.

"Here, let me show you around really quickly. It's not that big." Peter proceeded to show her the entirety of the apartment, and she surmised that her apartment was quite the same, except that the rooms were positioned differently according to the building structure.

"It's very nice," she said.

"I could get used to it," Peter said with a shrug.

"I better go, I don't think I'm allowed in here," she said with a frown.

"That's true…but it's not like they know you're here," he said playfully. She only gave him a look.

"All right, go," he said with a smile. She returned it, and he accompanied her to the door leading to the women's dormitories. They said their goodbyes, and he made the trek back to his room.

Peter turned the key in the lock and reentered the dormitory. Upon arrival, his senses were assaulted with the pungent smell of roasted pork. He turned his head toward the counter and found a stranger in his kitchen. A fork was in his hand, and in his mouth he chewed meat from the container, which sat on the countertop. He was tall, with dark, mussed hair that hung to his shoulders. Wide, blue eyes stared back at Peter with feigned innocence.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked incredulously. Who was this stranger in his kitchen?

"Eating," the man replied. "A bit obvious, don't you think?"

"That's not your food!" Peter insisted. His gaze turned to his luggage, which sat splayed open on the coffee table. He had not left his things in this fashion.

"Did you go through my things?"

"Wanted to make sure my new flat-mate wasn't a loon, or a pedophile. Or something of that nature…you don't have any concealed weapons on your person, do you?" Peter regarded the man for a moment, baffled by his audacious behavior.

"Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Who are you, is more the question. You're not a rapist, are you? Because I simply cannot associate with someone who can't have consensual sex with a woman. It's just saying you're in desperate need." Peter was dumbfounded.

"Get the hell out!" He pointed to the door for good measure.

"You can't throw me out! I live here, or didn't you notice my things in that bedroom over there?" The man gestured to the open door of said bedroom. And from where Peter stood he could see the luggage bags. He could only assume it belonged to this git.

"Those are yours?" he asked in a deadpan. The other man grinned.

"I'm here to stay, mate. Better get used to me. I'm Richard Kingsley. Just got in from Cambridge." He came from around the counter and held out a hand to Peter, who looked at it doubtfully. There was a long pause, in which both men stared blankly at one another in semi-tension. But eventually, Peter also held out his hand.

"Peter Pevensie."

"That's one hell of a mouthful. Where you from? You look like a city bloke. I'll bet you're a Londoner, eh?" Richard asked. There were no real rests between his words, just one question fired after another in the man's blasé manner of speaking.

"Finchley."

"Ah, well. Close enough. I've been to Finchley. Good sandwiches they make there. Only went once though," Richard began with a grin. "Ma' dad had a client there and look me along, hopin' I would take to the trade. He's an insurance salesman by the way." Peter felt a small smile dance upon his lips at the young man's brevity easy attitude and lilting phrases. His personality was, by his standards, a little bit uncouth, but refreshing.

"You said no, I presume," said Peter.

"Hell no! I ain't going to do that boring stuff. Instead I decided to come here, lookin' for somethin' to do with my life. I reckon I'd meet plenty of women, find me somethin' to strike my fancy at the university here besides shit and eat. Maybe even get a job, if I feel like it." So, there was some sense of responsibility left in the youth yet, Peter thought. By this time, Richard had come closer as conversation grew more comfortable, and less hostile. He leaned in toward Peter now and again as he accentuated certain words, adding to the sense of bravado his speech induced.

"What are you planning on studying?"

"I'm undecided. But I figured I would go to a few classes, maybe pick up something useful."

"What are your interests?" Richard made a show of tapping a finger on his chin and turning his eyes to the ceiling in thought.

"Women. Galas. Other events. Books…Women. The easy life really." Peter sighed and shook his head. What was becoming of his generation?

"Books are a good start," he surmised. Richard glanced at Peter with a lop-sided grin.

"What are you in for?" he asked.

"I'll be majoring in English Literature."

"Hmm, a lit. junky. That'd be why you talk so bloody proper." Peter gave a grin, then.

"It's how I've been taught."

"Ah, you've come from a strict family too? Bloody terrible, ain't it? My father didn't, still doesn't, put up with nothin' shitty. No funny business. Mother didn't say much when I was growin' up, but she did well by me. You?"

"My family is good to me," Peter said, his grin softening to a small smile.

"You're not a man of many words, are you? Words enough to be a literature major, I guess. You got a family?"

"Yes, two sisters and a brother."

"Oh really? You don't say. I have a brother myself."

"Older or younger?" Peter asked.

"Older. Not by much, only a few years," Richard replied.

"What's his name?" Richard laughed a bit.

"He has a hell of a name—George Michael Kingsley. On first look at his name, people take him for some celebrity or another. Then they look at him good, and still think him a celebrity..." The conversation lasted like this for a while, into dinner and the a couple hours into the night. They exchanged stories of their childhood and personal interests, and the two seemed to quite hit it off. Something that might not have been expected from their…interesting first meeting.

Alexa entered the room, box in hand, and immediately came face to face with a young woman, shorter than her, with auburn curls that framed her face. Her eyes were wide with surprise, a light hazel, and the book that had been in her hand dropped to the floor. Alexa almost dropped the container of food as well, but managed to keep a grip on it.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, let me help you," said Alexa. She helped the girl with her book, and handed it to her.

"Thank you. I'm sorry about that," said the red-head.

"It's no problem. Hello, I'm Alexa Williams." Alexa held out a hand.

"I'm Linda Thomas. It's a pleasure," she said.

"The pleasure's mine. I'm sorry for surprising you, I wasn't expecting anyone else, I guess."

"That's quite all right. I saw your things on the counter, and I peeked inside the bedroom, sorry."

"Again, it's no problem. I most likely would have done the same thing. Let's sit down for a while, unless you were going somewhere…"

"Oh no, I was just going to check the bulletin board out there on the wall, since I really had nothing else to do but kill time, but let's sit then." Linda motioned to the couch by the coffee table.

"Where are you from?" Linda asked after they were situated.

"Finchley. I just got in today. And you?" Alexa questioned.

"I'm from here, just transferred from the local grade school of Ashbridge to here. I came this afternoon," Linda replied.

"Oh really? Then you can tell me about this place. It seems so exciting. On the way here we passed by so many shops and interesting looking buildings."

"Oh yes, there are many sight-seeing locations, as well as activities…there is a movie theatre, a park, several shopping districts, things like that."

"That sounds wonderful."

"Yes, and there's this one place…" Linda told Alexa of Ashbridge, and its perks. But she also warned of the dangers that come with a town that thrives on entertainment and tourism. There was the obvious: do not go into any alleyways, or risk being mugged. Steer clear of the late night drunks that stumble out of certain pubs, for some are dangerous to run into at night. And even watch out for what parties you may get invited to, as some late night college festivities attract negative attention (information Linda was...hesitant to give Alexa at the time), and sometimes the authorities.

It was late at night before she fell asleep, and even later when she woke the next morning. Sluggish and feeling sleep-deprived despite over-sleeping, she dressed for the day. Alexa entered the living room, and saw a haggard looking woman sprawled on the couch.

"What in the world?" she said aloud.

"I have no idea," began Linda. She stood in the kitchen, cutting an apple. "She was here when I woke up this morning. I think those are her bags over there." Linda pointed to the third bedroom, which indeed held luggage that was neither hers, nor Alexa's.

"So…she's our roommate as well," said Alexa, peering closer at the woman. "She looks a little mangy."

"I think she's drunk. Or at least, she was drunk," said Linda.

"You're right, I smell the alcohol on her."

"Should we wake her up?"

"Might as well."

"All right, well…go ahead."

"Why should I do it?"

"Just give her a douse with some cold water."

"What?"

"Just kidding," Linda said with a chuckle. Alexa sighed.

"Let's just shake her awake."

"Fine, you go first." Linda took on a nervous expression as the other woman glared at her. "Again, kidding." Linda tentatively shook the sleeping woman awake, who groaned and protested at being disturbed.

"What the fuck do ya' want?" she slurred, her Irish accent prominent. Alexa walked around the couch and stood beside Linda, arms crossed in front of her chest.

"I want you out of this dorm room if you don't belong here," she stately plainly.

"I live here, smart arse. Now keep your fecking voice down." The woman rubbed her head and squinted her eyes in obvious pain. Alexa's eye twitched.

"Get off this couch and into a shower. You reek of liquor." The woman lying on the couch glared, but then gave a smirk.

"What are you, my mother? Go wash yourself of that prissy-ass attitude." Alexa pursed her lips in annoyance. She wanted to wash the woman's mouth out with soap.

"Who are you?" Linda asked quickly. She glanced at Alexa, who was silently fuming.

"…Diane," she said begrudgingly.

"Well, we would appreciate it if you just cleaned yourself up. Would you like breakfast?" said Linda. Diane regarded her for a moment in silence, inwardly wondering at the small woman. Why would she offer such a thing when they had only just met? Alexa thought along the same track for a minute, until her reasonable mind slowly came back to her.

"We should at least still be hospitable, even if she is…hostile," thought Alexa.

"If you're makin' food for everyone, then I'll eat."

"Alexa, would you like breakfast?"

"Thank you, that would be lovely."

"'Thank you, that would be lov-e-ly,'" Diane mimicked as she got up from the couch. "Geez, what a feckin' princess."

"I will not dignify that with a response."

"You just did, smart arse."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Oh, dear," Linda muttered.

August, 1942

Susan wrote in her notebook furiously. She copied the notes left on the board, droning out the monotone voice of the teacher in her concentration. It was her goal to get excellent marks this year, no matter the cost. If she wanted to be able to get the best in life after college, she needed to be the best. But she still made time for her many friends.

"Psst, Su," her friend, Anna, whispered. She pointed to a slip of paper left on Susan's desk.

"The gala at Walter Harrison's is this weekend. Would you like to come with us?"

Susan ripped a piece of paper from her notebook and wrote, "Sure. At what time is it?"

Edmund tapped his pencil against the desk impatiently. He simply couldn't get into the concept of geometry. It was a refresher course for him, easy for his analytical mind. But it was as dull as watching paint peel.

"I could smack my head with a brick," he thought. "Listening to Alexa drone on about topography is more remotely interesting."

"Mr. Pevensie." Edmund looked up to see his teacher towering above his desk, a disapproving frown marring her youthful face.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You will do well to pay attention in my class."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Since you see fit to daydream, please work this problem out on the board." Edmund worked it out flawlessly, to the instructor's slight chagrin, he could tell. But when he returned to his seat he made an effort to at least appear as if he was paying attention to the lesson.

Eventually, the class came to an end, as well as the school day. He walked to the school's library on the first floor. It was large, with rows and rows of shelves filled to the brim with knowledge and resources. It was paradise. He took a seat at one of the long tables set up for students, and began working on assignments.

"Um, excuse me?" Edmund looked up from his text books to see a young girl, petite, but about his age.

"Yes?" he asked.

"May I sit here?" She gestured to a chair at the same table, a little ways from him. He nodded, but raised a brow. She didn't need his permission to sit two yards away from him. In any case, he continued to work on his history assignments. It was something about early Greek philosophy, but he was having a hard time concentrating.

"Oh…that's not good," the girl murmured to herself. He didn't bother to look up, but tried his best to block her out.

"My goodness, seriously?" she muttered.

He furrowed his brows in concentration.

"What an inopportune time…"

He blinked at the page he had been rereading over for the fifth time in a row.

But there was a pause in which he was given blissful silence, and then…

"Goodness, really?"

Edmund sighed, and put his pencil down on the table.

"Excuse me, do you mind?"

She looked up at him, eyes wide with shock. In her hand was a broken pencil and old, yellowed pages fallen out from the binding of her text book.

"I'm so very sorry, am I distracting you?" she asked in a small voice.

"As a matter of fact, yes," he answered in annoyance.

"I'm sorry."

"Just, please…you know what, here." Edmund dug into his bag and retrieved a pen. He handed it to her, and she smiled.

"Thank you. Again, sorry." He felt a tad guilty for snapping at the girl, but at least she would no longer be a distraction.

"Don't mention it."

...

"I'm in your geometry class," she said, not thirty seconds later. He sighed.

"Is that so…"

"I saw you work Mrs. Thomas' problem on the board."

"I suppose you did."

"That class must come easily for you, then."

"It does."

"I…never mind."

He left it at that and didn't question her sudden change of mind in conversation. After about five minutes, in which he heard nothing from the girl, he peered up at her. Her brows were knitted and her lips were pursed. She tapped the pen lightly against her arm as she tried to work out a question. Edmund glanced at the book, and saw the familiar cover of their geometry text. He almost sighed again.

"Do you need help?" he asked in defeat. She looked up with wide eyes.

"Oh…um…" Edmund stood from his chair and walked around the table. He took the seat next to her, and began to explain. An hour later, they parted ways as Edmund left to meet his sisters. It was only when he had tucked in for the night that he dully noted—he hadn't given his name, or she her own name.

*The town of Ashbridge is my own making, and is not a real town with whatsoever.