Hello again!
Yes, I have another update for you and I'm in a really happy mood for some reason. Maybe it was because I finish this tonight or something but I'm just in a smily mood. :):):)
Thank you all who reviewed, especially: ReadingTillEternity, Wouldn't you like to know, Anonymous, Sally Moore, Noel Ardnek, Dramaticalmama and FelipeMarcusThomas. You are all so awesome and thanks for sticking with the story and everything. :)
I really hope you review and tell me what you think.
Enjoy!
The Affairs of the Heart
Dreaming of Ed in a cell
A ragged cough filled the air and my eyes snapped open in surprise, as a gasp escaped my lips. I was suddenly met with a dark silhouette of a human. The silhouette peered around the corner and I was met with the sight of a little brown haired girl.
"Lucy!" I gasped as I scrambled forward and pulled her in to a hug, wincing in pain because of my ribs. "I thought you were one of the wolves!" I pulled back to see her little face, flushed pink because of the cold.
"Sorry Alex. I think I'm coming down with a cold." Lucy mumbled before wiping her nose on her handkerchief. I sighed as a little smile appeared on my face.
"I'm just glad you're safe. Where are the others?" I asked as I shakily got to my feet.
"Oh, they're outside with the beavers and Mr Fox." She said as she took my hand and slowly began to lead me out of the little dark house that I had been hiding in. "Are you alright?"
"I'm going to be fine." I said quickly, feeling a little bit guilty that I was fibbing to Lucy. My ribs must've been in a really bad way. Every inch of my torso was acting as if I was being pinched and prodded by a million crabs.
"That's what Mummy always said. She said that we were all going to be fine. Even Mr Portentia said that we'll be okay because we were going to win the war." Lucy said glumly. "But we've been at war for a while."
I stared at Lucy in awe as I realised just what she said. She was more than what people gave her credit for. She always noticed things that we always missed. I smiled. "Well, we are going to win the war Lu. We're British. We're too stubborn to back down."
"I hope you're right." Lucy sighed just as we exited the little house. The Beavers, Mr Fox and Susan were all sitting on logs in a circle whilst Peter was struggling to light a fire. The bright sparks from the two stones that Peter was using were giving me a headache. I began to feel nauseous again so I quickly sat down on the log next to Susan. Every time that Mr Fox shifted a paw he winced and began to whimper in pain.
"Are you alright?" I asked the poor creature lying on top of the snow. The fox looked up at me with a crooked, painful smile on his face.
"Me? Yes, I am perfectly fine. It's just a little twinge - ahh!" he yelped in pain suddenly when he shifted a little bit too much. I quickly knelt down beside him and I noticed a little muddy red patch on his side amongst his fur. It was blood.
"You don't seem alright." I said suspiciously as his head slumped tiredly in to the snow. Mrs Beaver waddled over to the both of us with a small wooden bowl filled with melted snow and a cloth.
"Don't be so silly Fox, now hold still while I try and mend that wound." She said sternly. For some odd reason, Mrs Beaver reminded me of Betty back at the Old Professor's house. I shook my head trying to shake away my thoughts. Mr Fox squirmed and yelped when Mrs Beaver dabbed his wound with the damp cloth in her paw. Apart from Mr Fox's yelping and Lucy's sniffling, there was no other noise except from the click, click, click of the two stones that Peter were hitting together, trying to spark a fire.
It shouldn't have been this silent. We were in the middle of the woods for crying out loud. There should be at least sounds of woodland animals burrowing or hunting for food. There should be owls hooting and bats squeaking as they flew through the branches high in the tops of the trees. But there wasn't. There was just silence.
"We're going to go look for some more wood. We'll be back soon." Susan spoke as she and Lucy stood up. Peter looked up and told them both to stay safe before turning back to the two stones in his hands. I turned away from Mr Fox and Mrs Beaver and shuffled towards Peter nervously. He didn't look up at me but the clicking sound of the stones in his hands became louder and more frequent. I felt guilty because of the argument we had earlier. I needed to apologise to him or else I'll be losing two friends.
"I'm sorry Peter." I mumbled to him as I pick up a few small pieces of kindling and put them in to the small pile that Peter was trying to light. His hands stopped moving and the clicking noise fell silent. I hesitantly looked up to see Peter staring at me, his face void of any emotion. I took a deep breath. He must've been really angry. "I didn't really mean to say all of those things about Ed."
"Then why did you say them?" he asked stiffly. I sniffled and sat back on my feet.
"I don't know. It's my fault that Ed ran away to that witch. If I didn't argue with him then maybe he would still be here with us rather than over there dead." I felt my nose start to run so I wiped my nose on my sleeve. Peter sighed and sat back next to me.
"Alex, there's no way for sure that Edmund's dead. You've got to think positively. You have to or else you'll go mad." He said quietly, speaking more to himself than to me I think. It was true what Peter said. You've got to think positively. I thought about all of the soldiers who were sent back to England from the war, all decrepit and insane. I didn't want to end up like that, stuck in a hospital with a blue ribbon pinned to my front. I shuddered at the thought. Peter wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a sideways hug. "We all miss Edmund."
"Do you really think we can lead an army?" I whispered quietly, knowing that the Beavers and Mr Fox could be listening in on our conversation. Peter sighed, un-wrapped his arms around me, picked up the stones and started to click them again. "Pete?"
"I just want Ed back." He turned to the fire and continued to spark the fire, effectively ended our conversation. Hours went by and no one spoke a word, not even Susan and Lucy when they returned from collecting wood. It suddenly felt like the train ride all over again. We were acting like strangers, not friends. Not even Mr and Mrs Beaver could think of a way to cheer us up.
It wasn't long before Peter had finally lit the fire. We all crowded around the fire, getting as much warmth to our bodies without the risk of burning ourselves. My thoughts returned to home and my father. Was he okay? How was the war going? Was he wondering how I was? But of course he'd be fighting, so he couldn't afford to think about my safety without risking his own. My hand went up and enclosed around my locket which was still firmly around my neck.
"What happened to Badger?" asked Mr Beaver in a hushed voice. I turned to Mr Beaver as he whispered to Mr Fox, who was lying on the ground. Mr Fox looked up at him with a sad look on his little furry face.
"He was helping Tumnus when the witch got here and turned everyone to stone." He yelped suddenly when Mrs Beaver continued to wipe away the dried blood in his fur. "Ow!"
"Oh stop squirming! Honestly, you're worse than Beaver on bath day!" she said exasperatedly. Mr Beaver turned to us with a shrug and a small cheeky smirk on his face.
"Worst day of the year." He shuddered, causing Lucy to giggle a little bit. I smiled slightly as well. At least Mr Beaver was trying to cheer up Lucy.
"I wish I could say their bark is worse than their bite." groaned Mr Fox in pain. He suddenly struggled to his feet. "But sadly I must leave and continue to rally up troops for his majesty."
Mr and Mrs Beaver gasped in surprise as they turned to Mr Fox with wide eyes. "You've seen Aslan?" I frowned. What was so special about this Aslan person? It sounds as if he was some kind of idol to these creatures. I glanced at the others and once again they seemed to be filled with some kind of hope. I didn't feel anything when we heard this Aslan's name.
"What's he like?" Mrs Beaver asked happily. Mr Fox smiled a sigh of contentment and looked up with his eyes full of happiness.
"Like…everything we'd ever thought of." Mr and Mrs Beaver began to gush with excitement. Mr Fox turned to Peter who was sat gloomily staring at the fire and prodding the hot orange embers with a stick. "You'll be grateful to have him fight alongside you in the war, High King Peter."
"We're not here to fight any war." Susan interrupted suddenly making me jump slightly. I had totally forgotten she was there. The furry woodland creatures gasped and their eyes went wide with horror.
"Surely, High King Peter…? The prophecy…?" Mr Fox said in a panicky voice. Peter looked up sadly into the eyes of the cunning brave Fox and sighed. I watched on sadly, feeling sorry for Peter. Imagine his situation at the moment. He was just a sixteen year old boy and all of a sudden he had just been dumped a whole load of responsibilities like looking after his younger siblings, and me for that matter, he had to be mature enough not to let the pressure get to him or else there would be no hope for us all and now he's suddenly a King of a magical country that we had found in the back of a Wardrobe in a house in the countryside, all in the matter of a few days. It must have been tough for him.
"We just want our brother back." He replied quietly, his eyes swimming with remorse and guilt. I couldn't take it anymore. Everyone was so sad. It was so strange to see everyone like this.
"I reckon everyone should get some sleep for tonight. That way we'd be wide awake for tomorrow morning." I suggested quietly as I stood up and began to clear an area for everyone to sleep near the fire. Everyone nodded and started to busy themselves for bed. As I crouched down to sweep away some sharp holly leaves that were lying on the snow, I felt a twinge of pain in my chest. I winced and gasped, suddenly feeling the air around me getting thicker and harder to breathe in. My knees buckled and I fell in to the snow. The pain was excruciating but in a slow, agonizing burn sort of way. A few tears fell from my eyes and froze halfway down my cheek.
Mrs Beaver waddled over to me to see if I was alright and gave me a sympathetic look. "Oh, you poor darling, you shouldn't push yourself too hard. Here let me have a look." She said as she gently pushed me on to my back and shuffled closer to me. I reluctantly lifted up my shirt to show her my bruises. I didn't know how bad they had gotten since I had last saw them but from the amount of pain I was feeling I felt that they were a lot darker. Mr Beaver began to tut. "You should've shown me this earlier. I would've given you a balm to help with the pain."
"I didn't want to burden you." I whispered quietly hoping that none of the Pevensies could hear me.
"Nonsense, don't be so silly. Now stay still while I go look in the knapsack and see if we packed anything that might help." She said before bustling off towards the knapsack that we had brought. I began to feel sleepy again and my eyes started to droop, unable to stay open. In what felt like no time at all, Mrs Beaver was back attending to my ribs and I had fallen in to a soothing sleep.
I dreamt that I was in a huge white castle that had rich, red tapestries and grand halls that seemed to just radiate warmth. I began to think I was in Olympus, the ancient city of the Greek Gods or in Camelot the famous city of King Arthur. The floors and the walls seemed to shine like gold throughout the castle as I walked barefoot along the corridors. I think I had arrived in a throne room, but I can't remember how I had exactly gotten there. This is what my dreams were like. They led you to the important stuff and skipped out the middle, always leaving them for you to discover the next day. Like Déjà vu. It is sometimes really frustrating but I have to just ignore it. So as I walked in to the throne room, I noticed that there was somebody standing behind the thrones staring out of the windows. I think they were female but I couldn't really tell because of the brightness of the room. They had long blonde hair that seemed to shine like the sun and they were wearing a long, light-blue dress. Yes, definitely a female. I thought as I walked forward silently, hoping not to startle her and make her run away. I wanted to see her face. I wanted to see if she was as beautiful like the rest of her. I wanted to see if her eyes matched her dress. I was about three feet away from her when suddenly the image began to simmer away. No! Please just a second more, just let me see her face! I thought desperately. Just before the image dissolved the woman turned her head slightly.
The scene changed. I was in a dark, freezing cold cell. Contrary to the castle before everything seemed to suck the warmth and the happiness out of you. Like there was no hope in the world. I began to look around the cell wondering whether I could get out of here. It was silly of me really. I was in a dream! I didn't need to find a way out. The walls seemed to be made out of something slippery. Was it glass? I stepped forward to take a closer look. There was a crunch under my feet. I glanced down at my shoes to see a light dusting of frost. The walls were made out of ice and the floor was covered in snow. It was like an igloo, apart from less welcoming and there was a door made of metal bars. No, I was definitely in a cell.
Suddenly I heard a sniffle behind me. I spun around in surprise to see someone lying on floor, shivering and sniffling. I gasped as I recognised who it was. It was Edmund. I hurried over to him and knelt down on the freezing floor by his head. I reached out to him but my hand hit something hard just merely inches away from him. I couldn't touch him; I couldn't even let him know that he'll be alright. I was only in a dream. But it was so real. It had to be real! Even I couldn't dream this up.
"Edmund, don't worry. We're going to get help and we're going to get you somewhere safe. Just don't worry!" I whispered to him, just to reassure him even though I knew there was no way he could hear me. He looked so cold. His hair and his eyebrows had a light dusting of frost on them. His cheeks were so pale that I thought he had sort of become snow himself and his lips were blue. He was shivering so much. A few tears of frustration fell from my eyes. I couldn't warm him up or anything. He could have frostbite or even hypothermia and I couldn't do anything. I felt so useless. He squeezed his eyes shut and he whimpered quietly, sniffling and rubbing his nose with his knuckles. As he opened his eyes I noticed a few tears of his own fall down his cheeks. He was crying. I had never seen him cry before. Sure, not many people had seen me cry before except the Pevensies, but Edmund? Never. I didn't really think he could cry. He let out a quiet sob that pulled at my heartstrings. I had to try and comfort him somehow. I reached out my hand to his cheek and as soon as it hit the wall, I pushed against it. My hand began to shake as I pushed against the force-field around him.
"Oh come on!" I hissed to myself. My hand remained where it was, tantalisingly close to his cheek. I sighed and gave up. Instead, I lay down as close as I could to him wishing in some vain hope that my body heat would warm him up and stop him crying. Seeing him cry was just wrong. Just so, so wrong. I stared sadly at him as he continued to shiver, feeling more tears slide down my cheeks. His eyes closed again and he wiped his nose. He should have a hankie. My grandmother's voice mumbled to me in the back of my mind. I rolled my eyes as I watched him, feeling my mouth twitch slightly. I wanted to wipe away his tears. I wanted to give him a hug. I wanted to…No, he's just a friend.
I leaned as close as I could to him and I whispered to him. "I miss you Ed."
Suddenly his eyes shot open, looking straight into my own. Except they weren't his eyes, they weren't dark brown. They were pitch-black. I screamed and shuffled back as far as I could from him, feeling as if he was looking at my soul.
I jerked up from my sleep and screamed, feeling tears fall down my cheeks. I was back in the clearing with the Pevensies and the beavers. A shot of pain coursed through my torso. I fell back in to the snow just as I saw Susan and Peter hovering over me worriedly. "Alex, calm down. Ssh, it's just a dream. You're alright." Susan said soothingly as she held my hand, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles. I rolled on to my side, sobbing to myself. "You're okay. Tell us what the dream was about. Yeah?"
I remained silent. I didn't want to tell them my dream, not this time. I didn't really think they'd like to know what I saw really, not when they find out the state Edmund is in now. As Mrs Beaver came over to tend to my ribs again, all I could think of was that last image in my dream. The image of the black eyes that were there instead of Edmund's brown ones. They were her eyes. They were the Witch's eyes.
