All We Are

by: mokatster

Chapter Eight: Midnight Misgivings

It was with a sudden jerk that I awoke, breathing raggedly with my heart pumping as if I had just run to the top of the castle's tallest tower. I clutched the sheet to my chest in clenched fists, closing my eyes against the darkness and trying to calm my breathing. I had had the most unsettling dream. Not a nightmare—I don't have nightmares. I've never had nightmares.

As my breathing slowed, I realized my mouth and throat were as dry as cotton. Tossing the sheet aside, I swung my legs over the side of my bed and reached for the pitcher of water that I always kept on my nightstand. After pouring myself a glassful, I padded softly to the window to find what comfort I could in the beautiful, moon-washed landscape. But I didn't really expect to find any at this hour; I have always considered the small hours of the night to be the loneliest periods of my life.

It's not that I made a habit of staying awake long after most have gone to bed—quite the contrary. Growing up, I never had the urge to stay up past my bedtime. My parents never had to fight to get me to bed as they did with the others. As long as I went before or at the same time as them, I knew we would all fall asleep together. I wouldn't be left behind with the darkness.

I took another sip of water, taking comfort in the cool liquid that soothed my throat. It would sound a little childish to admit that I'm still afraid of the dark—I am thirteen years old, and a queen as well. But I hate it when I don't sleep through the night. Everything is too quiet. Even when I had been younger and shared a room with Lucy, it was still lonesome to wake up in the middle of the night, to know that I was the only one awake, and that everyone who might have offered me the comfort of companionship was somewhere else entirely, lost in a dream world that only they can know. I much prefer waking after the sun has already risen and kissed the world to life with its cheerful rays. I dread being startled out of sleep hours before dawn, when the world is cold and deathly silent. Once I'm awake, it's so hard to go back to sleep.

I set my glass down on the windowsill with a soft chink, and then, with a little shiver, hugged myself as I dwelt again on my unsettling dream. I wasn't even sure of what I had seen—if it was even possible.

Don't be stupid, I chastised myself. Really, I was being ridiculous. Of course Edmund and Lucy wouldn't leave. The idea was absurd. And if they did leave, it would be due to a diplomatic reason, not some familial squabble.

I frowned. Had we been fighting, in my dream? I couldn't remember. I just remember panicking as I ran through the castle…I knew I was searching for my younger siblings—that part was absolutely clear. But I also felt guilty, as if something I had said or done had been to blame.

I rubbed my eyes wearily and sighed. Dwelling on my dream was pointless. It would do nothing but upset me and keep me awake longer. The best thing I could do was try to go back to sleep.

I moved silently back to the bed and burrowed under the blankets. But I didn't feel safer under them; rather, I felt terribly exposed. I buried my face in my pillow, not wanting to see my bedroom and the hulking shapes of the furnishings looming like ghosts out of the darkness.

Aslan, help me.

But there was no response. Despite my pleas, sleep was slow in coming and when it did it offered no rest. When I awoke in the morning it was with a dry throat, a heavy head, and the most terrible feeling of apprehension still pressing my heart.

That night wasn't the only night I had that dream. It came back the next night, and the night after that. Praying to Aslan for intervention did nothing. And my trepidation grew.


A/N: Thanks for reading! More to come-soon, because I have a break from school coming up!