LEAVING NARNIA, I knew none of this was going to be easy. I knew a year at sea would test me. I knew tracking a decades-old trail left by the chimæras would likely be impossible, but I still did it. Despite knowing this voyage was going to be the hardest thing I've ever done, I still sailed. Because after being torn from their home and enslaved 1400 years ago, the chimæras deserve to know their hiding is over. That their freedom has been won again. And I knew I was the only one who could tell them. With the mark on my hand, I was the only one they'd believe.

Despite knowing this — my impossible task — it tears me apart to know that after almost six months of searching past Narnia's borders, I'm still in the same spot I was three years ago.

I have no leads, no ideas, and no way of reaching them. And I'm scared that I never will. It terrifies me to think an entire species will never taste this freedom. That their lives were spent in fear and hiding and nothing more.

The salted wind shears across my cheeks, sea spray coating my knotted hair.

I remember something I was told once so long ago. To accept what's happened and forgive myself as best I can for it. I can remember the way he said it, with his hands grasping my face and his fierce, broken voice and eyes that were soft like powdered snow over the plains. I can remember the way his breath felt over my skin, the way he smelled — like underground and earth and so faintly of fire. I remember how it felt like the sky was breaking over me, just like it does now. I remember it all.

I close my eyes.

The sounds of the waves crashing against the hull fade to trees in the wind. I can feel the connection, just as the way it was.

Stay, please.

He smiled — one I miss seeing so much I fear I might've forgotten entirely. He hugged me and kissed my forehead. And he told me without knowing at all our fate, "I wasn't planning on leaving."

No one ever really does, I realize now. The world simply has its own desires, and one of them happens to be the gap of a thousand worlds between Edmund Pevensie and me.

I hold onto the tether made real again in my mind, hoping I might remember how it feels before it disappears again. Pulling it close to my heart as if it might make this memory last forever. As if keeping hold of it means it'll never fade or waver.

If I focus, I can see bubbles float past my vision, hear my heartbeat in the water around me, see the distorted reflection of the trees and a boy above me. I can feel him pulling just as he used to in a way that said, "here I am. I'm here."

Only he didn't do it that day at the spring outside the How. He couldn't have. We'd only just learned about the bridge between us and had no idea how to use it.

The dream-like memory blurs. I pull back on the connection — the way I used to.

A flood of disbelief punches me in the stomach. But it's not from me.

I lurch upright, the sounds of the ship and the crew drowning out the silence of the dream I've been torn from so suddenly. What in the name of...?

"Everything alright, milady Arryn?"

I look down at Reepicheep, trying to pinpoint exactly what happened. Where that feeling came from.

His eyes harbour concern. I know well enough he'll worm his way into figuring out what's bothering me eventually. There's no point in pretending otherwise.

I swallow. "I–I thought I felt–"

"Men adrift!" Baziras shouts from the crow's nest. "Larboard bow!"

Reepicheep and I simultaneously turn our heads, scanning the waves in search of the castaways. Three of them fight the current below us, swimming desperately from the Dawn Treader's path.

"By Aslan's mane," Reepicheep states in disbelief, "more mermaids, do you suppose?"

I squint against the harsh sun rays reflected off the waves. "I don't think so," I murmur. "They don't quite move the same."

"Where could they have come from, then?"

My heart still beats too fast from my unnerving trance. "I don't know." There isn't a ship in sight — hasn't been since we set sail from the Seven Isles more than two months ago.

In a rush, I climb down from the dragon figurehead. The crew is quickly taking in the sail and preparing to weigh anchor. Caspian with his usual fancy coat discarded stands on the forecastle with Rithar and another man. He meets my gaze pointedly, the hard look in his eyes saying "stay here."

Reepicheep lands on my shoulder, having leapt down from the figurehead as well. We watch as the king and his two men approach the bulwark, climbing on top of it to dive overboard.

Drinian orders the men to drop the anchor.

"I suppose this means we're stuck with three castaways until we make port," Rennor mutters.

Another deckhand laughs humourlessly. "In six weeks," he adds.

I hurry down to the main deck, hoping for some way to help despite technically having the day off. Towels, I think as Reep leaps to the banister then down onto the deck. I make a sharp left into the cabin beneath the forecastle, climbing down the hatch into the cargo hold in search of clean towels. Quickly counting out six, I gather a stack into my arms and make for the hatch. The echoing sound of the crew's boots above me is much more rushed and purposeful than usual. It's a nice change of pace, actually, to have something else going on than just deck duties and daydreaming.

For a moment, I let myself wonder whether these strangers might know anything about the chimæras. Considering the strange circumstances of their sudden appearance, I wouldn't rule out the possibility. Where in the world could they have come from, anyway?

My curiosity is like a pup nipping at my heels, spurring me up the ladder and across the deck for answers. I drop the towels on top of a barrel and help prepare the lift while the riggers are busy securing the sail aloft.

"Three...Two...Hoist!"

The lift is raised into the air on pulleys, poles hooked around its frame to guide it carefully over the bulwark before being lowered. Tavros acts as our guide, keeping everyone on the ropes in sync.

"...And, lower!"

The lift is incredibly light on its own, making it very easy for us to fall out of sync and tear the frame apart. Carefully, I feed the rope through my hands.

"Slower," Dusnun says from in front of me. He's taking most of its weight.

I check myself and feed it through slower. The man behind me mirrors my actions until the lift is in the water below and awaiting its passengers.

I release the rope, flexing my fingers and glancing behind me to check that the towels are still where I left them.

"Glad to see you're not the one in the water this time," Dusnun teases.

I snort, turning back around. "I'm not."

An amused smile spreads across his face. "Arryn," he says, letting a placating hand fall on my shoulder. "You don't always have to be our shield, you know."

I nod. His words make sense but I can't justify always taking a back seat to possible danger when I'm the best equipped to face it. "I just feel better as the shield." Grinning, I poke the seaman's arm. "Besides, I wouldn't trust you to shield me from sunburn."

His jaw falls open in mock hurt. "Foul blow, Witchslayer," he muses with a wickedness that matches my own. "But a regular mouse would be fit to block the sun from your eyes."

"Perhaps if its ears were as large as yours," I agree.

Dusnun laughs loudly, making my grin grow larger.

"That's a good one," he praises.

"Thank you."

A man peering over the edge of the ship calls for the lift to be raised, prompting us to reclaim our places on the rope. A few extra hands join us to help with the added weight of the passengers. I consider for a moment how funny it'd be to let the rope slip through my fingers and drop Caspain back into the ocean, but Drinian would revive the practice of keel-hauling specifically for me if I did anything like that, so I just brace myself and hoist the rope when Tavros orders it.

"Steady..." The minotaur says, waiting while the passengers board the ship. I can't see them past Dusnun's shoulders, but I can feel the weight we're holding lessen when they step off and onto the deck.

"That was thrilling!"

I nearly drop the rope. I know that voice — knew it once many years ago.

"How in the world did you end up here?" Caspian asks her.

"Lower!" Tavros calls.

I act without thinking. "Wait!" I shout, frantically peering past Dusnun's stupid shoulders. The men pause for me.

"Lucy?"

Wrapped up in a towel and dripping seawater across the wooden planks, the girl turns from Caspian's arms to look at me.

Her face looks older, hair longer, and she's almost as tall as me now, but still her eyes hold wonder and magic and youth and they light up like the sun when she sees me.

"Arryn!" Lucy flies across the deck with her arms outstretched and a smile that might swallow me whole. Letting go of the rope, I race forward to collide with the queen.

"I've missed you so much!" She gushes.

I choke on my laugh, unwilling to let her go just yet in case this isn't real. "You're so old now." The Lucy I remember is short and has round cheeks and shoulder-length hair. Her voice is light and innocent and full of mischief. This Lucy is different. She's mature and sensible — her shoulders carry responsibilities. She reminds me strikingly of Susan.

"It's been two years," Lucy admits a little timidly. "A long two years, for that matter."

I squeeze the younger girl's arms, pulling back to take in her face in wonder. Two years. "I can't believe you're here. How is everyone?"

Her grin widens, if that's possible. "Wonderful!" She exclaims, blue eyes lifting to look at something past me. "Edmund especially is about to be very happy."

My heart thrums in response. Edmund.

I turn my head, following her gaze.

Edmund leaps off the lift before it can even be pulled toward the deck, his dark eyes furiously scanning every inch of the deck and the faces on it. Water plasters his shirt to his body so I can see his frantic, laborious breathing. He doesn't notice the towel offered to him, nor Caspian's jovial greeting. His heart is set on one thing only and I know well enough the rest of the world doesn't matter until he's found it.

I feel my heart churn with furious, desperate desire and scathing hope. Edmund's flooding the connection without meaning to. And I'm so unused to feeling the tide of his emotions it locks up my throat. But my legs still work, and before my mind can wake me from this dream — surely it's a dream — I run toward him.

And the moment I do, he sees me. His eyes soften and turn glassy, the stress and worry on his face melting away into a crooked, cheesy grin. He's soaked in seawater and freezing cold but I crash into him without slowing, almost sending us over the railing and into the ocean.

Someone shouts an angry warning at us to be more careful, but I almost don't hear it over the rest of the crew's jeering laughter. I almost don't hear anything but the blood pounding in my ears.

Edmund's arms around me are nearly bone-crushing and the water on him quickly soaks through my clothes but his hands are so warm on my skin. All I feel is sunlight. This can't be real.

His voice cracks, breath fanning softly through my hair."Arryn."

That does it. The bastard makes me cry.

"You look different," he continues, and I forgot the way it felt to hug him while he spoke. I forgot how his voice deepened and sounded rough in my ear despite the soft vibrations in his chest. I forgot how it made me absolutely melt into him. "What happened to your leg?" He murmurs.

"Giants." I hug him tighter even as he stiffens.

"Giants?"

I laugh, tasting salt from my tears and glad I can blame it on the seawater dripping from his hair, instead. "I missed you." I missed you so much.

He tightens our embrace, bringing me impossibly close and nuzzling into my neck. "I missed you," Edmund breathes hoarsely. I feel his tears against my skin. His raw emotions bleed across the connection and I can't believe how long I've been waiting to feel this all again. How long I've waited to be here in his arms.

Warmth radiates through my bones.

And it feels like finally.

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author's note

brb I'm crying

i can't believe how long its taken me to get to votd. i feel like arryn waiting 3 fuckin years for edmund's sarcastic ass to reappear again lmao

in all honesty I've been fighting myself to not start a druig fanfic by furiously distracting myself with narnia and edmund pevensie, which is actually why this chapter is finally being released. y'all can thank barry keoghan and his fine ass by going to watch eternals because it's amazingggg

also it's almost midnight and i work tomorrow morning but edmund and arryn are finally reunited and that's all that matters. i hope it was emotional and heartwarming and everything you guys dreamed it would be! lol but deadass it's been a minute since i wrote these two so please let me know if it turned out weird and if i gotta give it another go because this is a scene that deserves to be painted in gold. and if my writing didn't do that i have failed

winter break is almost here, so i hope i can get you guys some more chapters soon!

until then, i wish you all well and i hope you enjoyed the chapter! thank you for your support!