Like a ghost

Lucy ran out of the empty room, into the passage, and found the other three.

"It's alright," she repeated, "I've come back."

Ella stood at the feet of her bed, staring down at the gown she'd worn the last time she'd been home.

She was eleven the last time she'd been standing beside the Great King in Cair Paravel; she had been officially crowned a princess, though she never paid her title any mind. Since the first time she'd been there, she learned how to fight; ever since, she'd seen herself as a warrior rather than a princess.

She sighed as she sat beside the gown and began to absentmindedly fiddle with the skirts of the dress. Her head snapped up as her ears finally caught voices arguing from the room above. She raised her eyebrows as she looked up at the ceiling; she'd expected Lucy to find the room, but not the others to be there too. At least not yet.

"What on earth are you talking about, Lucy?" asked Susan.

"Why?" said Lucy in amazement, "haven't you all been wondering where I was?"

"So you've been hiding, have you?" said Peter. "Poor old Lu, hiding and nobody noticed! You'll have to hide longer than that if you want people to start looking for you."

"But I've been away for hours and hours," said Lucy.

The others all stared at one another.

"What do you mean, Lu?" asked Peter.

"What I said," answered Lucy. "It was just after breakfast when I went into the wardrobe, and I've been away for hours and hours and had tea, and all sorts of things have happened."

"Don't be silly, Lucy," said Susan. "We've only just come out of that room a moment ago, and you were there then."

Once again, all emotion left Ella's face as she stood, grabbing the gown and hanging it back at the far back of her wardrobe. She walked over to her wooden vanity dresser, where a slightly old yet elegant-looking wooden case was. She looked down at it and hesitantly reached for it, hand retracting multiple times before finally reaching the lid.

"She's not being silly at all," said Peter, "she's just making up a story for fun, aren't you, Lu? And why shouldn't she?"

"No, Peter, I'm not," she said. "It's— it's a magic wardrobe. There's a wood inside it, and it's snowing, and there's a Faun and a Witch and it's called Narnia; come and see."

Groaning, Ella pulled her hand away from the box, grabbed a bag she had left lying on the ground beside her vanity dresser and walked out of her bedroom. She knew that whatever was about to happen next with the 'Pensives' was not going to end well at all.

The others did not know what to think, but Lucy was so excited that they all went back with her into the room. She rushed ahead of them, flung open the door of the wardrobe and cried, "Now! Go in and see for yourselves."

Susan put her head inside and pulled the fur coats apart, "Lucy, the only wood in here is the back of the wardrobe."

Then everyone looked in and pulled the coats apart, and they all saw— Lucy herself saw— a perfectly ordinary wardrobe. There was no wood and no snow, only the back of the wardrobe, with hooks on it. Peter went in and rapped his knuckles on it to make sure that it was solid.

"A jolly good hoax, Lu," he said as he came out again; "you have really taken us in, I must admit. We half believed you."

"But it wasn't a hoax at all," said Lucy, "really and truly. It was all different a moment ago. Honestly, it was. I promise."

"Come, Lu," said Peter, "that's going a bit far. You've had your joke. Hadn't you better drop it now?"

"But I wasn't imagining!"

"That's enough, Lucy," Susan said firmly.

Lucy frowned. "I wouldn't lie about this!"

"Well, I believe you," Edmund spoke up in a serious manner, surprising them all.

Lucy blinked and looked at him with surprised, hopeful eyes. "You do?"

Edmund nodded. "Yeah, of course! Didn't I tell you about the football field in the bathroom cupboard?"

Peter sighed heavily through his nose and glared at Edmund. "Will you just stop? You just have to make everything worse, don't you?"

"It was just a joke!" Edmund said, rolling his eyes.

"When are you gonna learn to grow up?" Peter said in a slightly harsh tone.

Edmund's face heated up in anger. "Shut up!" he shouted. "You think you're Dad, but you're not!" And with that, he stormed out.

Susan sighed in exasperation. "Well, that was nicely handled!" And she followed Edmund out.

"But... it really was there," Lucy said in a small voice, causing Peter to sigh as well.

"Susan's right, Lucy. That's enough."

Lucy grew very red in the face and tried to say something, though she hardly knew what she was trying to say, and fell to her knees as she burst into tears the second Peter walked away.

"You shouldn't speak to her like that." A voice sounding as soft and melodic as golden wind chimes made Peter stop when he had reached the stairs. He turned around only to feel his breath get caught up in his throat when he saw the girl who'd been wandering around the household like a ghost, staring at him with a blank expression on her face.

Peter couldn't deny it; she was the most beautiful being he'd ever seen, and although her face was void of emotion, she looked like God had carved her himself.

She looked like a slightly exotic-looking angel.

She had pale russet skin, and dark brown hair, which could be believed to have once been a lighter shade as it now seemed to have lost its shine. He couldn't tell what color her eyes were as she was standing a bit far from him, but, from where he stood, they appeared to be a dull shade of dark brown, which were simply empty as they stared at him. The only bit of emotion he could catch was from the frown, glare, or scowl she seemed to be fighting back.

Unable to help himself, he let his eyes wander downward as he studied her. She wore a sleeveless, black, slightly asymmetrically hemmed waistcoat over a pretty, dark blue, smock dress, which had a sheer chiffon dotted overlay, a crocheted yoke and a softly-gathered skirt that fell at her knees; it showed off her perfectly toned legs, ankles, and feet, which were slipped into black high-heel pumps. Her dark hair, which was perfectly curled as the day before and earlier in the morning, fell a few inches past her shoulders.

"... kid." He looked back at her face, finally noticing her watching him with a raised eyebrow. "Are you done checking me out? I've been calling you seven times now."

Peter felt himself starting to blush in embarrassment. "Sorry," he mumbled, looking down at his feet.

"Your name is Peter," she repeated, keeping her exasperation from showing in her voice. She had become quite an impatient person, though she was great at hiding it.

Peter nodded rapidly. "Yes, you— you're—"

"Eleanor, and though I would... appreciate it if you didn't call me that, I didn't come here to introduce myself," she replied curtly. "I came here because I overheard what happened." He blinked, staring at her. "My room is right below."

"Sorry—"

"Stop apologizing. I'm not the one you wounded," she cut him off, glancing toward the door, slightly shifting some items Peter just realized she had brought along with her. There was a dark blanket peeking out of a bag that hung from her shoulder, along with a few other things he could not distinguish. In her hands, she held a paper bag by its opening, which was rolled close.

"She may be young, but you should know that sometimes the youngest know best when it comes to things like this."

"There was nothing but wood inside the wardrobe," he said.

"Do you really believe she would've made up something like that?" He did not reply. "She may be but a child, but that doesn't mean she was lying; if anything, children her age are the most honest of people on earth."

Peter glanced down at his feet for a moment before looking back up at her. "So, you're saying that you believe what she said."

The corner of her lips twitched. " The universe is full of... magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper ." She shifted her gaze toward the door, which led to the spare room, where the youngest Pevensie was currently sobbing. " Children see magic because they look for it ."

She looked back toward Peter, eyes staring straight into his. "Those who don't believe in it will never find it ."

They were silent for a moment, the little girl's sobs still slightly audible.

"You didn't answer my question," Peter blurted out.

Ella's lips twitched again. " A... friend once told me, 'Disbelief in magic can force a poor soul into believing in government and business' . I may be an unusual girl; I'm sure you've noticed that by yourself when you saw me yesterday, but the only reason I did what I did many times is because I do not side with any government or any insensible business. I hope that answered your question, Pensive," she replied before turning and resuming her way.

Peter stood there for a moment, replaying her very subtly hint in her head, trying to make sense of everything she said. Did she believe Lucy? Was she trying to make him be at least sensible enough to apologize to his little sister? Then he realized: she called him Pensive.

What on earth...?

"Hey."

He looked up again, only to get something thrown his way. He breathed a sigh a relief when he caught it as he was usually not very good at catching anything, that's why he never did any sports in his school that involved catching balls or anything really. He looked down to see what he had caught and realized it was a paper bag, much like the one she was holding.

"There's some fresh lemonade in the refrigerator; it would taste better than milk with that. Make sure you take that to your room before you get some though, Macready doesn't like having anything too sweet in here. There's enough for you and the other two."

She turned to leave again, but Peter called out to her. "It's Pevensie." She looked at him over her shoulder and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, making him instantly react awkwardly. "It's... Pevensie... n-not… erm… Pensive..."

She turned to face him fully and stared at him for a moment. "I'm well aware of what is and what isn't," she suddenly said after a long moment of silence. "Pensive suits you more though; you're the kind who's too deep in a brown study."

And with that, she turned around and left the eldest Pevensie slightly stunned.

There was a soft knock on the door of the spare room, where Lucy was still on the ground, sniffling.

"You shouldn't sit on the floor, it's dirty. You'll get your stockings stained with dust." A familiar voice came from the doorway.

Lucy looked up and felt slightly better when she saw the older girl standing in the doorway, for once, her expression not blank, nor angry. Her eyes were soft, gaze somewhat tender as they stared down at her.

"Mind if I keep you company?"

Lucy blinked in surprise but did not refuse. The girl walked forward, slipping her bag off her shoulder and pulling a dark blanket out, which she expanded onto the wooden floor. She sat on it and padded the empty space beside her, which Lucy soon claimed.

"You're Lucy," said the girl, voice as soft as it had been the last time she had spoken to her, earlier that day.

Lucy nodded. "I-I know your name... but you don't seem to like it, so..."

The girl's lips twitched. "Call me Ella."

Lucy nodded again. She watched the older girl, with curious eyes, as she brought out a small towel and began to dab off the dust on her white stockings. When she was done with that, she brought out a blue handkerchief and wiped the remaining tears from Lucy's rosy cheeks.

"You're not wrong, you know." Lucy blinked, confused by what she'd just heard. "What you believe in."

Lucy looked at her for a moment. She did not want to be brought down as she had been with her siblings, so she went another way.

"Do you believe in magic?" she asked, her voice holding a hint a shyness, which made Ella want to smile. Though, of course, she did not.

Ella did not reply for a moment as she brought many snacks out of the paper bag, along with a glass bottle of what appeared to be lemonade and two empty cups.

"Everyone believes that every answer can be found within science," she began as she poured the lemonade in both cups. "That without books the development of civilization would have been impossible. But the thing is, where do all these books come from? They come from us, yes, but where do we come from?" Ella took a bite from one of the biscuits she'd brought and then took a sip from her lemonade.

"The logical answer would be: we come from earth. We come from Adam and Eve, or we are descendants of primates." Ella paused for a moment, blinking in slight surprise at herself. This was the first time she'd spoken so much in so long. It felt weird, but she shrugged it off.

"But where did all of that come from? God. Yes. But how did he create us? He used his powers. Whatever he thought or believed he could do, he did. He began and finished it. Action has magic, grace, and power in it."

She looked back at Lucy, eyes finally twinkling with a bit of emotion.

Lucy looked at her for a moment, then giggled, taking a sip of her own juice. "Do you always speak so... philo— philosophically? In riddles?"

Ella's lips twitched as she shrugged. "They're not really riddles. It simply depends on who listens and if they're open-minded enough to understand what I say from many points of views before understanding my own."

"I like how you speak. It sounds very wise."

Ella let out a chuckle. "I don't usually sound this... wise. Or at least I don't think so."

"You don't speak much, do you?" Lucy asked. Ella shook her head. "That's probably why, then."

"Probably." Ella grabbed a sweet bread and began to nibble on it, looking down at her crossed legs.

"Ella." The latter looked up at the little girl sitting beside her and cocked her head to the side when she noticed the wondering look on her face. "Princess... Ella."

Ella found herself freeze at that. It wasn't that she was shocked that Lucy had found out about that, it was just that it had been so long since someone had called her that... speaking of which, she couldn't help but suddenly wonder how much time had passed there. It had been four years for her, there where she was, but back at her birthplace, decades must have passed.

"Do you know of Narnia?" Lucy asked, face as innocent as her voice, as she looked Ella.

"I know of it." And with that, she began to put everything away. Lucy looked at her as she looked at her; she wanted to ask more but refrained from doing so.

They walked in silence toward the exit, Ella right behind Lucy.

She reached backward, for the doorknob, to close the door, but before she did, she said, "Magic is believing in yourself, if you can do that, you can make anything happen, so don't stop believing."

She closed the door and made her way over to the stairs, leaving the youngest Pevensie glancing between her and the now closed door.

"I'd recommend you go to your room; Missus Macready doesn't like people loitering about when the maids are on duty."

And with that, she walked down the stairs, to her room, Lucy following right behind, making a beeline to her own room, which she shared with Susan.

For the next few days, Lucy was very miserable. The others who thought she was telling a lie, and a silly lie too, made her very unhappy. The two elder ones did this without meaning to do it, but Edmund could be spiteful, and on this occasion, he was so. He sneered and jeered at Lucy and kept on asking her if she'd found any other new countries in other cupboards all over the house. What made it worse was that these days ought to have been delightful. The weather was fine, and they were out of doors from morning to night, bathing, fishing, climbing trees, and lying in the heather. But Lucy could not properly enjoy any of it, so she opted for the first option she hadn't felt brave enough to go for.

She went to Ella.

At first, Ella was closed-up, reserved, despite the quite pleasantly civil conversation they'd had the day Lucy discovered Narnia. She would barely speak, only answering Lucy's questions with the shortest answers, but other than that, nothing. At least she listened to Lucy, and, for that, the latter was grateful. It'd taken a while, but Lucy finally managed to get Ella off the roof of the mansion (literally) and even got her to take her out with her when she went to shoot arrows. The way Ella moved when she went out to practice her fighting skills awed Lucy to no end. She was so graceful— it was as if magic itself was moving her.

She was fascinating, and Lucy was more than happy to have a new friend she could spend time with, and though Ella would never admit it out loud, she knew the latter considered her a friend as well. Though Lucy couldn't help but wonder, every so often, where Ella was off too when she wasn't with her, nor practicing her fighting skills, even less on the roof, her mind was set only on her goal. Her goal was to make Ella smile, but, so far, all she's had was the latter's lips twitching. Her eyes, though they gained a new shine to them every time they landed upon Lucy, remained empty, her face just as emotionless as always.

It all changed, though, four days after Lucy had had her first conversation with Ella.

It was the Pevensies' fifth morning at the Kirke mansion. Like their past four mornings, the Pevensies sat at the dining table, helping themselves to the delicious breakfast Missus Macready had made them. It was quiet as it was only the four children, the caretaker and the Professor, who had just come in and grabbed the newspaper from the small table at the entrance of the dining room on his way through. The now usual small greeting was shared between the children and the Professor before he took his usual seat at one end of the table and helped himself to some breakfast as well.

Ella hadn't come down yet... not that she ever did...

It was quiet as they ate, the sound of their forks and knives against their plates being the most audible sounds besides the slight noises resonating from all around of the mansion; the house was busier than usual as it was a Monday and the maids were in, making sure everything in the household was in order for the later hours when the Kirkes would be receiving their usual tourists, wishing for a tour of their fantastic home.

The slight silence lingered a bit more before the lightest footsteps resonated from the staircase, just like on their first day, barely audible. A second ticked by before the door opened and the four Pevensies stopped eating as a dark-haired beauty glided her way into the room.

The Professor was surprised, to say the least, and he instantly put his newspaper down, ready to greet his granddaughter whom he hadn't confronted yet. The first part of him that was shocked was so because she actually looked at him and nodded her greeting. The other part was because he hadn't seen his granddaughter dress like the actual girl she is in what seemed like forever.

He wasn't the only one shocked the latter thought. Lucy, who had been the only one to actually be in Ella's presence in the past few days had only actually seen the latter wearing a dress only once and that was when she came, trying to comfort her, was too; she mostly wore trousers as she'd spend most of her time out on the field practicing her archery skills and riding her horse.

Peter was also blown away; he, too, had only seen her once wearing a dress when she somewhat scolded him for making his little sister cry. The other two Pevensies were only slightly awed by her as they hadn't had the chance to see her up close; she would be only with Lucy, or God knows where, alone.

The Professor and Missus Macready smiled in relief as the greeting did not stop just with the head of the house and the caretaker. The eldest Pevensie girl gave Ella a look of appraisal as she did not ignore them like she had since their first day there; she'd received a greeting nod like the Professor and Macready. Edmund and Peter found themselves blushing as she sent them a greeting nod as well. Of course, it wasn't because of the gesture, it was more the fact that a beautiful girl was actually looking at them.

Lucy beamed, not really paying any mind to the soft gaze Ella sent her; she was too concentrated picturing Ella as a princess, wearing a crown, and that wasn't too hard as Ella had that majestic aura to her.

Even now, she had that slightly exotic yet entirely majestic look to her; her dark hair, which was usually in curls, now fell, in waves, a few inches past her shoulders, a beautiful Daisy fabric crown adorning her head. The latter hair accessory matched perfectly with the beautifully structured dress she was wearing, which was elegant and highly feminine with a sweetheart neckline underneath a layer of lace. It was clinched at her waist with a belt to create a flattering style and streamlined silhouette as it stopped a few inches above her knees; it showed off her perfectly toned legs, ankles, and feet, which were slipped into high-heel pumps that matched perfectly with her dress and fabric crown.

That only made the Pevensie boys blush harder and look away; it'd be rude to stare.

Ella soared her way over to the seat beside her grandfather but did not sit. She stood behind it and only reached over it to grab a biscuit; she loved those. Even the way she ate was elegant, Lucy noted as the older girl bit onto the snack in her hand. She chewed, then swallowed before looking over to the old man beside her.

"They're opening a range on the outskirts of West End. I was wondering if you could possibly let me go, I've already finished the papers you had me do for the summer," Ella said, voice so low it was barely audible.

The Professor looked at his granddaughter. He knew her love for possibly every fighting style and weapon there was, but he could not comprehend her slight obsession with archery and sword fighting. Maybe it had something to do with where she came from...

"West End?" Professor Kirke asked, raising an eyebrow as he thought. Ella nodded, finishing her biscuit. He sighed, a hint of drama in the gesture. "The possibilities are as much as you eat, so it really depends on you."

Ella's eyes lit as her lips twitched. She nodded, paying no mind to the confused looks the Pevensie children sent their way, as she said, "Thank you," sitting down and beginning to eat.

Missus Macready looked at the girl in shock. She had thought of many possible ways to get the girl to leave her room, to eat, to talk to people― never had she stopped to think that that might work. Ella ate quietly, raising an eyebrow, slightly amused, every time Lucy, who sat beside her, looked at her and grinned. The little girl just wasn't going to give up, was she?

A few minutes had passed, all finishing up their morning meal, when, suddenly, the door of the dining room opened, revealing Amelia, one of the maids. She looked around the table, eyes lighting up when they fell upon Ella.

Amelia was seventeen, the youngest maid in the Kirke household. She didn't like working much as a maid, but when it came to doing that job in that house, she didn't mind at all. She had always had trouble gaining friends, so she had been more than ecstatic when Ella became hers and never missed a day of work; she'd spend the rest of her free time with Ella once she was finished with her duties before going home. Though Ella slowly drifted distant from everyone, including her, throughout the years, Amelia never ceased to see the latter as her friend.

The girl scurried over to her boss's granddaughter and leaned down to whisper in her ear. Her fork clattered onto her plate, and everyone watched as she blinked owlishly, eyes wide. She looked at the maid and murmured a question to her. Amelia nodded, eyes twinkling― she knew this was sure to make her smile.

Ella wiped her hands and lips on her napkin before pushing her chair back and standing up.

"Excuse me," she mumbled before making her way out.

The Pevensies finished and somewhat silently asked if they could leave. After getting their answer, they stood and left to find whatever they could do. They left the dining room and stopped at the bottom of the staircase as they caught sight of Ella opening the large front door of the mansion.

"Mason?" she asked, slightly shivering at the cold breeze as she poked her head out, gazing over at the drive-through.

A young man, about a year older than her, was standing there, black hair creating a slight contrast against his slightly tanned skin. He was wearing a black coat over his gray suit, which Ella noticed seemed to be quite expensive. The young man shook his head, the few long strands of hair that covered his forehead in a slight masculine fringe flicking to the side as he looked up at her, midnight blue eyes squinting.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure. "... Ella?"

The girl's eye lit up as her face finally broke into a smile. "Mason!" she exclaimed, opening the door completely, unaware of the eyes set on her back.

The young man's lips spread into a full-blown grin as he looked at her, body straightening. "Ella!" He laughed in joy as they both ran to each other, Ella throwing her arms around his neck as he wrapped his own around her waist, picking her up and spinning her around, both actually laughing.

Mason Grant Hardy was Ella's best friend since childhood. Their parents had had the closest friendship anyone could ever have, resulting in both of them to develop a quite similar one. Mason and Ella were like two peas in a pod, partners in crime— they were inseparable, that is until Mason had to move away when they were ten. They stayed in contact, sending letters to each other; it was actually so that their writing improved over the years. It wasn't until three years later, in 37, that she had stopped writing to him— to anyone, really; she'd lost so much that the feeling of her losing more again only emphasized, as she grew older, to the point where she believed that distancing herself from everyone would save her the pain of loss. Then, there was also the fact that she couldn't return to Narnia.

Finally pulling away, they looked at each other, then both laughed again.

"I can't—"

"Believe it," Mason whispered.

"Me—"

"Either. But how—"

Ella's eyebrows raised. "Why are you whispering?" she whispered.

"Huh? Oh, right. Sorry. I'm just—"

"Surprised? Stunned? Feel like you've just survived being run over by a bus?"

"Yeah— wait, what?"

Ella laughed again. "Oh, I missed messing with you."

Mason rolled his eyes and playfully pushed her, gently. "Gee, thanks for welcoming me oh, so warmly," he replied sarcastically.

Ella rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. "When did you get back?"

"A few weeks back. My father made some agreement, with the Professor, about sharing the land around the boarding house. I don't get the whole thing exactly, but since the ol' man's been ill for the past three days, he sent me to bring your granddad the papers to sign."

Ella's brows furrowed. She didn't know about that. "They're gonna share the land?"

Mason shrugged. "Just part of it, but the house is out of it, that's for sure. I think it's under your name for future inheritance."

"My name? What on earth...?"

Mason lifted his hands in mock surrender as the young girl gave him a look. "Don't look at me like that, I don't know anything."

"Yet you're the one bringing the papers." Ella frowned. "The barn is mine," she said stubbornly, causing Mason to chuckle.

"Alright, alright, it's yours, don't worry. I don't think the whole signing procedure is for today anyway. I think it's just for Professor Kirke to see it through and make his own judgment, and changes if so is necessary. They'll probably have to sign it together."

Ella nodded, reassured. "Amelia?" she called. The latter rushed from the dining room, which she had helped clear, over to the young brunets.

"Miss Ella." She nodded, a kind smile on her face before looking at Mason and nodding at him in greeting. "Mister Hardy."

Mason laughed. "Please, Mister Hardy's my father— call me Mason," he said with a smile.

"And how many times have I told you to just call me Ella," the brunette chimed, mirroring her best friend's smile.

The blonde girl blushed in embarrassment. "Sorry," she apologized.

Ella shook her head. "Don't apologize, Amy," she replied, gaining a grin from the blonde at the nickname as she hadn't called her that in quite a while. "Is my grandfather still in the dining room?"

Amelia shook her head. "No, he left for his study right after the Pevensies."

Ella thought for a moment, lips pursed before shrugging. "Well, can you tell him I'll be up to see him in a few moments, please?"

Amelia nodded and sent the pair one last smile before making her way back inside. She stopped when she reached the staircase, though, and couldn't help but giggle when she saw the Pevensies staring, wide-eyed and open-mouthed in shock, at the entrance of the mansion, where the brunette they'd only ever seen expressionless was talking animatedly with the newcomer and laughing, a joyful musical sound that sounded like a chorus of bells. The only one who wasn't so dumbfounded, she noticed, was the youngest of the four, who was smiling.

Not much time passed before the conversation going on outside came to an end. Ella grabbed Mason's hand and literally dragged him inside, not once noticing the many pairs of eyes on her, which is quite unusual from her part; she usually notices everything from the tiniest speck of dust to one single leaf falling from a tree, yards away from her window.

She wasn't smiling anymore, but it was quite clear how happy she was as she dragged her long-lost best friend up the stairs to her grandfather's study.

The Pevensies watched as the pair went up, each one of them feeling somewhat different at the sudden change in the girl. Edmund's usual grouchiness downgraded into speechlessness, Susan's usually calm and gentle persona simply couldn't hide the surprise she felt. Peter was downright shocked; after the way she had spoken to him the other day— he never even dreamed there'd be a day when he would actually hear her laugh, or, even less, see her smile.

The smile on Lucy's face did not leave. "The angel had fallen after losing her wings; losing sight of her shadow, she was no longer free. Joy, she did not know, would be what would save her, so she tried to move on and paid it no note. Time passed, it almost seemed impossible. Then she found her wings and just stared. Seconds passed, and the ghost finally laughed."

The three older Pevensies looked down at the fourth as if she had grown a second head. She was only eight, how does she even know to speak so?

She looked up at them, smile turning into a sheepish grin as she shrugged. "Just because I don't spend all of my time with you three, it doesn't mean I spend it alone," she said, before skipping her way to the front door, to go outside. That seemed to snap the older three out of their thoughts as they followed her, throwing questions at her, but the little girl only smiled and waved them all off.

It seemed the reunited pair had spent hours talking after they had left the briefcase with the Professor. They had gone to the barn, with Amelia after a lot of insistence from Ella, had let the horses gallop around. Eventually, it had gotten quite late and the young maid had to go home, leaving the two best friends to walk, alone, in a comfortable silence.

"I often wish I were a horse," Ella suddenly said, finally breaking the quietude.

"That was weird and random," Mason said.

"Or a bird," Ella continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"That was too."

She turned to look at him. "Don't you want to be a bird?"

"No, I don't want to be a bird."

Ella frowned at him. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to be squashed by a car when I land on the ground."

This made the girl laugh. "You'd have to be a dumb bird to land where the cars pass... but, then again, you wouldn't have to be a bird to be dumb."

Mason chuckled and rolled his eyes. "That was one time."

"That was still dumb of you." Ella laughed. "I mean, who runs in the middle of the road and just stands there, waiting for a buggy to come?"

"I was eight!"

"And dumb: 'I just want to know how painful a broken leg is'."

"A few days earlier, a legless man told me he couldn't remember how much it hurt when he lost his legs," Mason defended himself.

"What are you so defensive about? It was a dumb thing to do, just admit it."

Mason huffed. "Fine." They were silent for a moment, then both chuckled, reminiscing. Mason bit his lip, hesitating for a moment before looking over at the brunette. "Hey, wanna go to the theater?"

Ella looked up at him, biting her lip as she thought. "Nope."

"Aww, why not?"

"First, you gotta say you're a bird."

"No."

"Then, no."

"Ella..."

"Mason..."

"Seriously?"

She gave him a cheeky smile as she placed her hands on her best friend's shoulders. "Yes." She nodded. "Now, say you're a bird."

Mason sighed and shook his head, a small smile making its up onto his face as he placed his hands on her waist. "Fine, if you're a bird, I'm a bird." He looked into her eyes, noticing they weren't as dark as they were earlier anymore. "Happy?"

She nodded, stepping away from him. "I'll go tell Grandfather, then meet you back out here, okay?"

They saw Wuthering Heights, that night, Ella's first movie since Fabien had passed all those years ago. When she got home, she felt warm inside, not only from seeing Mason again after so long but, because, after so long, she felt happy.

The days passed, Ella left the house a lot more, spending most of her time with Mason and, of course, Amelia, whom she would somewhat force to tag along. They'd gone to Carnivals, parks, shooting ranges, the theater, and basically, anywhere they could have fun. Of course, her mysterious disappearances did not falter, but no one would get an answer when questioning her about it. Not even Lucy, whom she still, surprisingly, spent her time with as well. It was all going great... until Wednesday, two weeks later.

It was a little past mid-day, the weather not being in its best mood; the sky was gray and cloudy, and it was quite breezy for a summer day, though Mason did not take that as an excuse to miss out on visiting his best friend. He went over at the 'boarding house', as he and Ella often call it, and they spent their time in the main lounge, talking and simply enjoying each other's company; it was around five in the afternoon, when the doorbell rang.

Ella frowned. The visiting hours on Wednesdays ended at three o'clock, and the maids left at four, so who was at the door? She stood from where she sat on the divan with Mason and headed for the front door.

She really wasn't expecting who was standing on the other side of the door.

"Tommy?" Confusion would've been an understatement of what she felt.

Said man had been staring down at the ground as he waited for someone to open the door, but when he looked up, at the girl he wished wouldn't be the first to hear the news, he felt his heart drop.

Ella frowned; the man looked dreadful: blond hair disheveled, his once tanned skin pale with bruises of various shapes visible here and there, and his arm was in a sling.

"Oh, my— what happened to you?" she mumbled as she pulled him into a tight yet gentle hug, trying to avoid hurting him as much as possible.

"Ella..." he choked out, but she paid it no note.

She pulled back and looked at him confused. "Wait, why are you here? I get you're injured, but wouldn't they still make you stay? And where is Charles— is he alright?"

The man could only stare at her, broken expression on his face.

She gave him a cautious stare. "Tommy, where is Charles?"

"Ella—"

"Where is he?"

Thomas Jameson sighed as he reached into the pocket of his military jacket and brought out a letter, holding it out to her as Mason rushed over to them, along with Missus Macready and Professor Kirke, whom he had brought with him.

Eyes shifting warily between him and the letter, Ella grabbed the latter, ripped the envelop open and unfolded the letter, ignoring the several pairs of eyes on her.

Dear Eleanor Kirke,

I was incredibly saddened to learn of the death of your brother, Charles Kirke. I am sure that your family must be going through a whole range of emotions right now, from being devastated to proud to angry, then back to devastated again.

Knowing that he died while serving his country is supposed to bring you a little bit of comfort, and I hope it does. You know that Charles loved being in the British Navy, aiding the American's Pearl Harbor and that he was proud of what he was doing. While no armed services member wants to die in the line of duty, they all know it's a possibility, and it's a risk they're willing to take.

That said, it's never easy on the ones they leave behind. All I can say is that you're perfectly entitled to whatever you're feeling, and you will help yourself if you feel all those emotions instead of trying to bury them. That's the only way you can truly begin to heal.

I am around if you need anything at all. Please get in touch.

With love,

Colonel Reynolds.

And there it was again. That blank look the care-taker and the head of the house hoped would never appear again. But there it was.

She looked up at the man in front of her, face as emotionless as he'd remembered Charles saying it to often be.

"I'm glad you didn't die," was all she said before spinning on her heels and running up the stairs. Along the way, she passed Lucy whose face lit up upon seeing her.

"Hey, Ell—"

But she could not even finish greeting her as the latter ran straight into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Lucy stared after her, eyes saddening. "And the angel fell once more, into her own ghost who wouldn't, not couldn't, open the door."

They all tried. For days.

Not even Mason or Amelia could at least get her to open the door to her room. She wouldn't leave. She wouldn't do anything besides the necessary, which is bathing (since every room has one, she is lucky so), and, though poorly, she would eat what little snacks she had in her room.

It wasn't until five days later that she came out of her room, but only to go to the lounge on her floor; rarely anyone went there. She walked over to the piano in the middle of the room, sat down on the bench and began to lazily play a few notes with her index finder before embarking into a symphony her latter brother had taught her as a child.

"It's been a while since you've played," said a voice from the door.

Her fingers faltered for a moment before resuming their previous rhythm. "I was going to come out sooner." Her voice was so quiet it was barely audible.

"Then why didn't you?"

Her fingers stopped, hovering over the keys. "Felt like I couldn't."

"Like you couldn't, or you just wouldn't."

She didn't reply at first as her grandfather sat beside her on the bench.

She sighed softly, closing her eyes as her fingers pressed onto the keys they'd been hovering over, lingering on the harmonized notes.

"Both, I guess," she replied softly.

"What changed your mind?"

Her brows furrowed as she looked down at the keys. "The fact that I can't change what happened, but, frankly, I don't want to spend the rest of my life being bitter and locked up."

The Professor smiled, though saddened as well by the recent events, content with her answer. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, motioning toward the instrument before them.

Ella's lips twitched. "Be my guest."

By the next day, she was feeling better, though, of course, it was no overnight recovery. That day, she spent it in her grandfather's library, reading a novel while listening to the Pevensie children, who were in the hallway, planning to play hide-and-seek.

Susan was "It" and as soon as the others scattered to hide, Lucy went to the room where the wardrobe was. She did not mean to hide in the wardrobe, because she knew that would only set the others talking again about the whole wretched business. But she did want to have one more look inside it; for by this time she was beginning to wonder herself whether Narnia and the Faun had not been a dream. The house was so large and complicated and full of hiding-places that she thought she would have time to have one look into the wardrobe and then hide somewhere else. But as soon as she reached it she heard steps in the passage outside, and then there was nothing for it but to jump into the wardrobe and hold the door closed behind her. She did not shut it properly because she knew that it is very silly to shut oneself into a wardrobe, even if it is not a magic one.

Now the steps she had heard were those of Edmund; and he came into the room just in time to see Lucy vanishing into the wardrobe. He at once decided to get into it himself— not because he thought it a particularly good place to hide but because he wanted to go on teasing her about her imaginary country. He opened the door. There were the coats hanging up as usual, and a smell of mothballs, and darkness and silence, and no sign of Lucy.

"She thinks I'm Susan come to catch her," said Edmund to himself, "and so she's keeping very quiet in at the back."

He jumped in and shut the door, forgetting what a very foolish thing this is to do. Then he began feeling about for Lucy in the dark. He had expected to find her in a few seconds and was very surprised when he did not. He decided to open the door again and let in some light. But he could not find the door either. He didn't like this at all and began groping wildly in every direction; he even shouted out, "Lucy! Lu! Where are you? I know you're here."

There was no answer and Edmund noticed that his own voice had a curious sound— not the sound you expect in a cupboard, but a kind of open-air sound. He also noticed that he was unexpectedly cold; then he saw a light.

"Thank goodness," said Edmund, "the door must have swung open of its own accord."

He forgot all about Lucy and went towards the light, which he thought was the open door of the wardrobe. But instead of finding himself stepping out into the spare room he found himself stepping out from the shadow of some thick dark fir trees into an open place in the middle of... a wood.