BUBBLES FLURRY across my vision, catching rays of sunlight as they fight to reach the surface. Refracted in a thousand different angles, light glitters atop the water in beautiful, meandering patterns. The treetops and clouds above the pool are distorted and dance with the currents, as though viewing the world through warped glass. The muted sounds of water showering into the pool reverberate in my ears, the accompanying vibrations drifting over my skin. I watch the rippling crystal surface above me as the bubbles escape, and I release a few more.

...thump...

I watch them race to the top and break the surface, only to let loose another string of bubbles.

...thump...

The wind sways the trees outside my underwater sanctuary, but all I hear is the rain of water and my own heart beating calmly in my ears.

...thump...

A familiar silhouette appears above the pool for a moment, watching me with something grasped in their hands. And though he's obscured by the water's manipulation, I recognize Edmund in an instant.

He waves his hand in the direction he came, his voice distorted and muffled when it reaches me through the water. "I'll be over there."

He disappears from my view, and I make sure to wait a while longer before following, righting myself and standing upright in the pool so my head emerges, the wind and the birds and the rustling leaves meeting my ears. The music of the forest and the crashing spring seem cacophonous compared to the underwater ambience. I almost want to duck my head back under and sink to the bottom, if only to hide from the war a while longer. But then I hear Edmund mutter a curse from behind a scattering of boulders, and a smile finds its way across my lips.

I wade through the cool water to reach the edge of the pool, treading carefully to avoid sharp or slippery rocks.

Though the trees' barrier reduces the wind gusts to a light breeze, I'm shivering and cold the moment I step out of the water. Quickly, I slip my dress on and grab my sword before leaving the spring and its stone fortress of surrounding boulders, the sounds of showering water receding as I retrace Edmund's path.

The pool sits in a low spot just behind Aslan's How, as promised by Ezrik and Verdan. It's a decent-sized basin surrounded by an outcropping of boulders that, conveniently enough, provide excellent privacy. The water is sourced from a spring just above it, which then runs down the rocks into the basin, making for an ideal bathing spot. And I desperately needed to clean all the dirt and blood from myself — rid my skin of the marks of war.

Edmund looks up from fiddling with his vambraces, the smile vanishing from his face when his eyes land on my arm. "What in the bloody hell did that centauress do to your arm?" He demands, crossing the distance to me in two long strides.

"Oh." I lift my arm so he can get a better look at the thick layer of feathers I forgot covers my left forearm. They're damp and packed so densely you can hardly tell they're feathers. "It wasn't her," I tell him, making the king glance up at me in confusion. "I did it to keep my dressing from getting wet. Look." I pull the feathers back into my skin, revealing the bandaged wound Starlock so kindly treated for me, still dry despite having been submerged.

Dumbfounded, Edmund's hands fall away and he lifts his head to stare at me. "That– But what was it?"

"Feathers."

"Feathers." He repeats in disbelief, eyebrows raised. "You were completely underwater and feathers kept your arm dry."

"Yes, Ed, feathers. Would you like to see it again?"

He hesitates, eyes searching mine. "...Will it hurt you to do it again?"

My heart catches at his thoughtfulness, a smile spreading across my lips. "No," I say softly. "It's just a small shift."

I lift my hand again, this time using my uninjured arm as a demonstration.

The first layer of feathers appear in a wave that flickers across my arm, and the next appears half a moment later. In less than a second, my forearm is covered in soft, coppery down. The tiny feathers are layered so tightly they're hardly distinguishable from one another, making my forearm appear abnormally large and of a different colour. I can understand why Edmund freaked out a minute ago.

"That's so weird," he muses, grasping my hand to turn my feathered arm over. Curious, he drags his fingers through the dense layers. "Must be at least an inch thick... Does this hurt?"

I shake my head. "No. It does feel strange, though."

He smiles and continues poking at my arm. "How did you learn about this?"

"I went swimming with a cut on my leg about ten years ago and it got infected from exposure to the water. If it wasn't for the centaurs' medicine, I would've lost it."

Edmund's eyes widen and I nod grimly, returning my arm to its usual state. "I know. It was the dumbest thing I'd ever done. After that, Glenstorm introduced me to Idris, and she taught me about seabirds and their specialized feathers. It took me months to get it perfect, but I figured I might need it at some point." The hardest part wasn't even learning the structure of the feathers but producing the right oils with which to coat them.

Edmund hands me the plate of food he brought and we sit on top of one of the boulders. "She's the eagle, right?"

"Yeah." I pick through the assortment of bread, cheese, and fruit. "A lookout in the northern woods."

He nods, looking thoughtful. "Who taught you to breathe underwater?"

"Oh, I can't do that," I laugh, popping a grape in my mouth. "I can expand my lungs and slow my heart, but I haven't figured out gills yet."

Edmund hums, grabbing an apple from the plate resting between us. "Yet?"

I push wet strands of hair off my forehead. "I'm working on it. All the Merpeople went into hiding further out to sea after the invasion, so I haven't been able to– what?" I notice the king's stare with a start, the light shining in his eyes causing my heart to stop.

"I don't mind your hair like that," he says, meeting my gaze with a lopsided grin.

For a moment, all I can do is stare at him like an idiot, wondering how he can say something so indifferent yet make it sound as if I'm the sun.

My hand drifts upward to comb through the short strands, unused to their cropped length. "I don't mind it either, actually." It's shorter than even his and shockingly convenient.

"How's Caspian?" He asks, taking a bite of the red apple in his hand.

"He feels terrible about everything, but we talked and by the time I left, he was alright." I grin wickedly. "I left him with Susan, actually."

Edmund freezes, his eyes wide and disbelieving. "No way."

His expression makes me laugh. "I know. She came up to take care of him because the idiot had been gallivanting around the How with an open arrow wound since the raid. And apparently," I add with annoyance, "I'm the only one who actually saw to the medics like she ordered us to."

He snorts a laugh at the last part, offering me a sheepish smile past his apple. "Sorry," he chuckles. "But Lucy did catch me on my way here and sent me off to a medic, so I had to suffer, too."

I chew on my bread, the itch beneath the bandage on my arm reminding me of my own torture in the medbay.

"So..." Edmund brings my focus back to the present, looking at me with concern and curiosity in his brown eyes. "Who was she?"

My nose wrinkles involuntarily, fingers curling halfway into fists. "Starlock," I reply sourly, remembering that he'd asked the same question in the medbay earlier. "She's a stargazer from the western wood. I met her when we first arrived here and she was...very strange. I could tell something was off about her, but Glenstorm trusted her, and with everything that's been going on, I just forgot about it." I sigh, still angry about the whole ordeal. "It turned out she knew what would happen: the stars told her a chimæra would face some sort of evil."

Edmund's eyes burn and he sits up straighter. "Why wouldn't she have told you?" He demands.

I shrug sharply, feeling my own fury beginning to reignite. "She told Glenstorm and they decided it was best if I didn't know. And I guess they're right; I would've lost my mind worrying about it. But I'm still mad they knew what would happen."

When I glance over at him, I don't miss the look in his eyes: the sympathy and pain. "What did happen?" He asks softly — carefully.

I look down at my hands, swallowing painfully. "I don't know," I admit, my voice reduced to a strained whisper. "As soon as she saw me, she knew what I was. And she just...took over. I was about to shift and help Caspian, but then...there was this cold feeling in me and I stopped and the idea just vanished. It's like I was empty. I wasn't thinking or feeling anything; I was just moving. I knew what was happening and what I was doing, but there was no emotion or thought to it."

I was a puppet.

Ed listens solemnly, his posture stiff and jaw clenched.

"And then...when I hurt you and saw the blood, it made me freeze and brought me back for a second." My throat constricts around my words, bringing about the sting of tears behind my eyes. "And the more I looked at you, the more I started to feel. You were like a clear point in a storm. And...this thing between us gave me something to hold on to." I look up at him, heart hammering in my chest when I ask, "did you feel it, too?"

I'm so scared to hear his answer but then he nods and all the air escapes me in a relieved sigh.

"Yeah," Edmund says huskily. "I felt it...Like a tether, right?"

Exactly like a tether. "Yeah."

"I..." He hesitates, licking his lips anxiously. "It's been there for a while."

I nod, the weight on my chest that I was alone with this sensation finally lifted. "For me, too. What the hell is it?"

Head held in his hands, he looks tired and confused and his words come muffled. "I don't know."

My eyes are drawn to the bloodstain on his shoulder and the white bandage beneath the torn fabric of his tunic. I feel my chest tightening.

"I'm sorry," I breathe, the echoes of his desperate pleas and anguished eyes returning with a vengeance.

He looks over at me through his fingers, recognizing the pain in my voice in an instant. "No," he tells me. "Don't say that. It wasn't you."

But it was. It was. I betrayed everyone. It wasn't Caspian who cut open his own hand; it was me. I fell to my knees at the foot of the White Witch and tried to kill my friends. I did that.

My fingers turn stiff with cold and I have to fight against the images threatening to resurface.

"Hey."

I feel his hand fall on my arm and that tether between us pulls tight. When I look up at him, Edmund is watching me with something like fear clouding his eyes.

"I know what you're thinking," he murmurs. "And you can't. Believe me."

The intensity of his gaze sends fire blazing through me. "How can I not?" My voice is unsteady with barely contained frustration. "It's true...I hurt Caspian, and Peter, and I brought the White Witch back, and...I tried to kill you, Ed, I..." I shake my head as if to rid the terrifying thought from my mind, but it claws its way to the forefront and screams I would have done it.

Because it's true. I would have killed him.

His voice sounds like it might break. "Ryn, hey." His touch feather-light, Edmund grasps my face with one hand so I look up at him, meeting his sorrowful gaze with a sharp twinge in my heart. "I know what it feels like," he says fiercely. "And you can't let yourself believe it's just. You know you wouldn't have done any of those things if she hadn't been controlling you. She's the only one responsible–"

"But if I hadn't been there–"

Edmund shakes his head sharply, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "No. You can't do that, either. If you start thinking of everything you could've done or changed, you'll go mad. Believe me."

The annoyance and frustration and exhaustion are all piling up on me now. "What am I supposed to do?"

He sighs, looking distant for a moment. "Everyone," he begins hoarsely, "is going to tell you it's not your fault — and the only way to feel better about it is to believe that for yourself."

I can read it in his voice. "...But you don't."

He looks away and shakes his head again; this time, the movement is hardly noticeable. "No," he admits quietly. "I've never been able to." When his eyes meet mine again, they're heavy and sad. "I've just learned to live with it," he says. "And every day, I try to make up for it."

Before I can say anything else, Edmund draws closer and gently cups my face in his hands, the callouses of his fingers grazing roughly against my skin. "You just have to accept what happened and forgive yourself as best you can," he whispers fiercely. "Alright?"

I stare at him and the fire trapped in his eyes. The words grate against my throat when I speak. "Does it get better?"

"Eventually," he murmurs softly. "It helps to have someone. It took me a while to learn that."

Sighing, I lean into his touch and rest my forehead against his. "I'm so tired," I mumble.

He breathes a laugh, trailing his thumb against the scars on my face. "I know. Let's find somewhere–"

"No." I thread my arms around his neck to keep him close to me. I need someone to keep me from losing myself. "Stay, please."

Smiling, Edmund engulfs me in a tight hug and places his lips softly to my forehead.

"I wasn't planning on leaving."

━━━༻❁༺━━━

"Ryn? Hey, come on, wake up. We have to go."

My eyelids are heavy, but I crack them open and sit up, wishing hopelessly for another few minutes to sleep. But seeing the unease in his eyes and the tight-lipped frown is enough to make me move faster. His shoulders are rising and falling quickly like he'd just been running.

Something's wrong.

"What happened?" I ask, taking his outstretched hand so he can pull me to my feet. But I already know.

Edmund swallows thickly. "They're here," he says.

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author's note

hello everyone! apologies for the horrendous wait on this chapter but i was stupid busy with school. apparently, my program is notorious for its heavy workload, so my new normal is going to be spending eight months of the year busting my ass to stay on top of my never-ending assignments. for the next four. freaking. years. of m e.

well i spent all week working to get this chapter finished and i have a really bad feeling its just 2300 words of trash lmfao. let me know if anything was too overdone? or choppy or out of character or just awkward. idk i just feel weird about it.. but i am glad to finally have it done so i can get at least one more chapter out before returning to hell on earth in the new year. i really really want to finish the prince caspian timeline asap and jump into votd so here's to hoping university won't screw that up too much!

i did way too much research on penguins and seabird feathers for this chapter yikes.

also i've been working some more on the interviews and bloopers/behind the scenes chapters (+ possibly some edmund pov scenes) so if y'all are wanting something to read while yours truly is #dying at university, let me know and i'll see what i can do about releasing them in january. also if there are any prompts/questions/scenes you'd like to see in any of them, leave a comment!

fun fact time! or maybe not haha im not sure if this is well known or anything, but i just learned it for myself so here it is lmao. skandar keynes did something called 'blonde cam' during filming for prince caspian. and he basically just went around with a camera recording all the blonde crewmembers on set and being a goof lol. apparently there were a lot of blondes.

until next time! love you guys! xx