Chapter Six: A Look Into The Past I

Brielle sighed as she unlocked the front door to her home. Stepping inside, she peered cautiously in the murky darkness, looking for any signs of movement in the deep shadows, listening for any indication that another person was there. Other than the loud snores that worked through the halls toward the front room, the house was silent.

Another sigh escaped Brielle's lips, this time one of sadness. She couldn't help the pang that came to her chest, the familiar feeling that she could never quite shake when she could no longer avoid returning home. Brielle walked further into the house, being careful to take off her shoes and place them neatly by the door.

She closed the door behind her and made sure to do so quietly. Loud noises didn't always make for a good day. And to think, she had been invited to go to Linda's for a sleepover. To hide out while the rumors of potential bombings were to come down. A place safer than her own home, she knew. But, had to turn it down. With her mother working and her father…

Brielle closed her eyes, leaning back against the door. She let out another long breath and frowned, tried not to pout. There was another party she was missing. One of the best parties she could've gone to. The last one had been a blast, going into town, to visit the markets, buy sodas, new jewelry with the allowances they saved up. Giggle and gossip as they always knew how. She always enjoyed the time she got to spend with her best friends.

But she understood, always understood why she was the one who had to miss out. But sometimes wished she was able to be a kid, to be a teen girl and giggle over some of the military men that trooped through town. To be normal and not some sort of…caretaker.

Brielle tip-toed through the house, being sure to take a large step over the squeaky floorboard that betrayed her movement, would stop the snoring in a second. Chewing her lower lip, she continued forward, pausing in the doorway to the living room. She leaned against the doorframe and looked towards the recliner that was set up in front of the TV. Watched as her father snored loudly beneath it, curled up into his side, clutching his blanket tightly to his body. Like that of a child, waiting for his mother to tuck him in completely.

He slept restlessly. Moving every few seconds. Jerking her head back and forth as if he was hearing bombs exploding in the distance. Brielle paused, lifting her chin to listen hard. Maybe he was hearing something he couldn't. Maybe his time out there…fighting for us…Brielle shook her head. Closed her eyes. Don't. Don't think about that. Don't think about what could've been.

Don't think about what was no more.

Brielle walked to her father and leaned over him. She reached out her hand, placing it on his forehead. No fever, and yet his fever dream was doing more damage than anything he'd seen out fighting for their country in the War. Though, as far as she knew of what he'd been able to tell them. Sometimes, when he got into his moods…

Her father turned, resting his cheek in Brielle's hands. His eyes fluttered open and looked at her, unseeing, before blinking shut once more. He rolled to his other side and pulled the blanket up higher over his shoulder.

"Hi, daddy," she whispered. Then dropped her hand back to her side and went to the kitchen.

She opened the fridge, wincing as the noise sounded thunderous compared to the light snores her father continued to emanate. She searched inside for a few moments, grabbing some materials to make a sandwich, then went to the pantry for chips to go along with it. Brielle hummed to herself, making quick work of the snack, separating the food onto two plates. She thoroughly cleaned everything back up before walking the plates back to the living room.

"Bri?"

She jumped, nearly throwing her plates of food across the floor when seeing her father standing in the middle of the carpet. He rubbed the back of his head, blinking rapidly as he looked around the living room. Brielle frowned, watching the familiar twisted expression that came to his face, the seconds passing slowly.

Slowly, she set the plates on the coffee table, ready to go back for it later. As it was, she didn't feel as hungry as she had seconds ago. She'd get it later, he probably hadn't noticed she'd made more than enough for him in his state anyway.

She sucked in a deep breath, lifting her chin, braided pigtails falling behind her shoulders. Cringed a little, knowing what was to come. Hoped she'd timed things out this time, in case she couldn't stop it. Her father stepped toward her, his eyes eyeing her suspiciously as he asked, "Where've you been all night?"

There were a few moments of silence, in which he waited for Brielle to respond. Gathering her thoughts, she took a deep breath and said brightly, "I was at school, daddy, you know that." She waited, hoping the light in his eyes would come back. The familiar twinkle that'd mean he was about to burst out laughing, assuring her he knew she was at school and he was only kidding.

Like he did sometimes.

The other times, like that moment, were the ones she worried about the most. They were happening too often for her's or her mother's liking. But without the money for proper care…

"Don't lie to me, Bri," he said. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Eyes grew wild, continued to bounce around, unable to focus on something for more than a few seconds. "I know you've been out there all night! Running around with those bloody fat heads you like to give yourself, to. Just like those floosies out there!" He gestured vaguely with his hand.

Brielle backed away, holding her hands up defensively. She looked toward the front door, to her father, then back to the door. Come on, mum. Where are you? "You're such a slag. There's no point in denying it! I know the truth, and your lies never work on me like they do on your mum!"

He punctuated his comments by taking a few, jerky steps towards her. Brielle continued to step back, for each one he stepped forward. All until she bumped into the coffee table behind her, wincing when there was a loud crash behind her. She whirled around and sighed, finding her lamp had crashed to the floor. All at once, she heard al oud sound and turned back to see her father had dropped to the floor and covered his head with his arms, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Dad!" Brielle hurried to her father's side. She grabbed onto his arm, tried to pull him from the ground but found it was like pulling at dead weight. "Daddy, come on! You're home. Everything's fine!" But her father continued to shout at the top of his lungs, a world away.

"Brielle!" She felt a sharp tug on her arm and turned to find her mother had ditched her things by the front door—there was a haphazard trail leading to where they stood in the living room—and hauled her away from her father.

"Mum!"

Her mother cupped her face in her hands, running her thumbs over the apples of Brielle's cheeks. Eyes searching her face, looking for any injuries or fear. When she was sure things were alright, Brielle's mother smiled a soft smile and pressed a tender kiss to her daughter's forehead. "It's alright, love. Just go upstairs. Take a bath. Everything'll be alright."

"What about…?"

Brielle's question died on her lips. It was the same argument—conversation—they had when the rumblings of the next bombing were to happen. The same scenario, growing worse as the days passed. Brielle nodded, kissed her mother on the cheek, then went upstairs, the stress leaving her shoulders with each step she took.

Walked away from the situation, knowing it would be repeated. It may not be the next day, or the day after that, but soon enough for Brielle to worry every time she left the house that she'd return to the notice to leave for the countryside, as well as her worry that she'd return to an empty house with no sign of her mother or father.

Brielle went to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She flipped on the light and studied her reflection; brown hair pulled back into braids behind her shoulders, dark brown eyes that reflected the fear and worry that slowly, very slowly, receded. Her lip was split and puffy and there was a little bit of blood at the split in her lip. When had she bit her lip that hard?

She took a deep breath and rolled back her shoulders, lifted her head the way she was always instructed to. "People are going to talk, love. Now that your father…" she always trailed off at that part. "People are going to talk, but you need to make sure those blokes don't get you down. Keep your head high."

Brielle nodded and turned on the bath water. She flipped through a magazine as the tub filled off, earmarking the pages she would use—making note of the new hairstyle and makeup she wanted to use the next time she could go to Linda's. She made a mental note to bring the magazine in to school. Reagan sighed and dropped her shirt before turning toward the bathtub and turning on the water.

Finally, when it was full, she turned off the faucet. A smile came to her face when she heard the sound of her parents' laughter from downstairs. Back to normal. As if nothing had happened. Quickly, Brielle undressed and slid down into the tub. She leaned back to allow her face to slide under the water, ready to scrub off the makeup she'd put on that day.

Allowed the water to envelope her, allowed it to let the silky strands of her hair to float around her, to tickle the sides of her face and neck. She felt herself sinking, falling, floating. A tinging pull that washed over her and continued to bring her down.

Down.

Down.

Finally, lungs burning, Brielle opened her eyes. She winced, recoiling against the sting that immediately registered. Opened her mouth to cry out and saw silvery bubbles erupt from her and float up.

Up.

Up.

Watery sunlight filtered through the water, streaking toward her. Bathed her in its glow. Warmed the cool, but rapidly warming water around her. Slowly turning, Brielle took in the fish swimming around her, beneath her, beside her.

Her lungs burned.

More bubbles erupted from her mouth.

Reaching her arms up, Brielle kicked the surface, taking in a deep breath of air as she broke the water. She looked around and saw the beach and the castle that was in the distance, waves of water lapping at her face. Salt burning against her split lip as she treaded water.

Brielle turned to glance behind her, taking in the ocean, then faced forward once more. "There's no way…" she breathed to herself as she treaded water. "That I have a beach in my bathroom."

It took a while before she made it to shore, fighting against the strong waves took more out of her than she'd expected, though the beach looked close. Every time she slowed, she floated on her back, slowly treaded water with her arms to keep herself from slipping beneath the waves once more. It gave her time to think, too much time. Wondered if her father had actually gone out of control and done something to hurt her.

He'd never hurt her before.

Always promised he wouldn't.

Maybe it was the first time.

She thought that all the way until she made it to the beach, the warm grains of sand sticking to her soles, sticking between her toes, scratching her as she wiggled them, working to clear the annoying feeling from between her toes. She looked up once more, squinting against the bright light that reflected against the melting snow hanging off the trees at the top of the slopes that led to the beach.

She continued to look around, she looked up towards the castle and saw a couple of horses running off into the distance. Something pulled in her stomach, something drawing her into the woods. Sso she walked, and walked, almost as if in a trance, only coming to a stop when she heard a twig snap nearby.

Instead of fearing what was coming, she turned to the source of the sound, moving closer. "Hello?" She called.

All at once, the underbrush shot aside and a teen boy about her age nearly crashed into her. His eyes widened as he stopped short of smacking directly into her. His arms wind milled, hoping to keep himself upright. Either that, or from the weight of the expensive dress coat that draped over his arms, Brielle realized. He regained his composure and started to say something, mouth opening, then clamped shut once more.

Eyes widened.

Cheeks bloomed.

A vein in his neck throbbed, Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His gaze flickered over hers before he turned to the side, bringing his hand up to shield his face. Then he thought better of it, dropping his hand to his side and quickly shedding himself of the dress coat. Twisting his arms like a pretzel, he used his right hand to shield his face and the left to hand her the jacket.

"Here," he mumbled, fumbling to keep the jacket off the ground. It threatened to fall from his trembling hands. "Take this."

Brielle took the coat and slipped her arms inside. She tightened it around her, feeling the silkiness against her skin and felt her cheeks heat up, realization striking her as the…as the sort of trance washed away from her. Almost immediately it was replaced with relief at finding someone to help her.

"Peter!"

Brielle looked aside, hearing the name called. 'Peter' immediately whipped his head around, leaning back and forth as he looked for the source of the voices. Brielle strained to see through the underbrush, it took a few moments before they shot open revealing two younger girls; one with long dark hair, deep blue eyes, and lips as rosy as her cheeks, the other much younger with auburn hair and a face full of freckles. Both their eyes widened when they spotted Brielle.

"Peter?" The older girl asked, glancing at him, then at her, then back to him.

Lucy on the other hand, titled her head as she gazed at Brielle. Her lips pulled back into a tiny smile. She glanced at Peter, then back at Brielle, giggling to herself. Quickly, she composed herself, tucking her hair behind her ears, and stepped forward, almost with a regal air to say, "I'm Lucy. This is Susan and Peter." Her nose wrinkled a little. "Who are you?"

"I'm…" She quickly noted Lucy's English accent, felt more at home. Brielle shook her head, eyebrows coming together. "This isn't Essex, is it?"

"Essex?!" Susan repeated the word incredulously. Her blue eyes widened, eyebrows rising to exchange a glance with Peter, who did everything he could not to look in her direction. Susan gently shook her head and looked to Brielle with a peculiar expression, as if he were trying to figure Brielle out. Similar to the looks Brielle and her friends would give the army boys that rolled through the town, trying to determine how old they were. Scrutinizing, but not unfriendly. Rational. Realistic. "No…This is Narnia."

"Narnia?" Brielle replied. She briefly rolled her eyes. "Sounds like a bloody makeup brand."

"Narnia isn't anywhere near Essex," Peter explained, voice turning low. Slowly, very slowly, he turned to face her, keeping his eyes straight on hers. His hands fidgeted at his sides. "And…if you're here for the same reason we are…" he swallowed hard, hand sliding toward the sword that hung off his hip, fingertips tapping against the hilt. "I don't think you're going back anytime soon."

Brielle looked to Susan and Lucy, who both nodded. Brielle dropped her gaze to her feet, lifted them again, worked to ask a question. To get some sort of explanation. Found she had no words that came to mind. Susan stepped forward, resting a hand on Brielle's shoulder. "There's a lot to explain," she said gently. "We're not going to hurt you." She looked to Peter, lifting an eyebrow. He paused, then dropped his hand from the hilt of the sword.

"What's your name?" Lucy asked again.

"Brielle."

Susan smiled once more. She wrapped the coat tighter around Brielle then looked to Peter and Lucy. She gazed around at the continuously melting snow, breathing hard, suddenly appearing distraught. They were searching for something, Brielle realized. Or for someone, when they found her.

Susan smiled to Brielle. "We'll get you some clothes and explain to you what's going on."

A/N: And here you have it, the first look into how Brielle arrived in Narnia and met the Pevensies. What a memorable entrance. Fun fact, this part was so well-received from my first Narnia attempt, Slipping Away, that it's one of the things that hasn't changed much into this story. Of course I cleaned things up and made sure the timeline worked for it to fit, but I absolutely had to keep it. Not to mention, it gives her some characterization!

There will be other chapters within this story that will slowly show Brielle's past with the Pevensies and how it, and Maugrim, tie into her present. What do you think of that tiny ship tease? 😉

Cheers,

-Riles