Yet again, this is waaaay overdue. And it's pretty short, so yay me (that was sarcasm). I'm sorry. I really am. You guys shouldn't have to wait six months for an update every time. Well, enough self-deprecation.
This story is based on an original idea from Reading Pixie. Once again, I'm sorry.
Narnia belongs to C.S. Lewis (he's dead, but he still owns it, because logic). I own nothing but my OCs.
Enjoy, my friends.
At Faelyn's words, Jacob felt nothing but shock. Uncle Edmund? This strange, slight man – hardly more than a boy – King Edmund? Unthinkable.
But now Belissa, too, was running to the man, throwing her arms around his neck, clinging to him and sobbing. "Edmund!" she cried. "Oh, Edmund!"
Edmund staggered slightly. Belissa, although tiny, was surprisingly strong. The children sitting in rows – Jacob now realised that this must be a sort of school – were staring, open-mouthed at the scene. A few were laughing. Most seemed to be in shock.
"Faelyn," said Edmund, and Jacob was surprised by how familiar his voice still sounded, "my dear – please – let go of me."
Faelyn released her father, taking a step back. There were tears on her face, and she made no effort to hide them.
"Crybaby!" One of the boys on the front row of seats laughed and pointed at her. Instantly, Faelyn rounded on him, her face flushing. "Shut up!"
"Faelyn!" Edmund said, with as much severity as a man could muster with his wife nearly choking him. "That is not a respectable attitude for a princess!"
"But, Father..." she said, her voice trailing off at the look on his face. Jacob didn't understand it either. Not only was Edmund relatively calm about the entire situation, he seemed almost angry.
"That's enough." Edmund said, and suddenly he was the Just King again, dealing with a petty thief or an arrogant page or a warrior shirking his duty. Never cruel, but always stern. "Class dismissed." He looked up at his students. "You may all go out to the playground."
With a scraping of chairs, the children left, and Edmund turned to face his family.
"How – how is this possible?" He looked absolutely confounded. "How is it you have all come here to England? Is this Aslan's doing? How much time has passed in Narnia? And" – he looked down at Belissa, still clinging to him – "Dear wife, will you please release me?"
Belissa finally relinquished her hold on Edmund, while Abigail, Timothy and Amberline began to explain everything to Edmund – the four monarchs' disappearance, the merchants, the mirror. He listened closely, his dark eyes attentive, while Ariel looked around the room. She'd seen schools in Narnia, though as a princess she'd been educated with a tutor, not at school. This was a little like a Narnian school – the rows of desks were similar, but the books, the blackboard and the maps were very different.
"How many years is it since we left?" Edmund interjected.
"Five." replied Abigail. "We had given up all hope of ever finding you."
Edmund shook his head. "It has been nine years here. I would have thought much more time had passed in Narnia – we had no way of knowing."
"Where is Peter?" asked Abigail. The longing in her voice as she said her husband's name was evident. "And Susan? Lucy?"
Edmund hesitated. "Susan is here at the school." he said. "She also works as a teacher." Ariel's heart thumped. Her mother was here. "Lucy is at home, and Peter is studying at Oxford, but he's on holiday now."
Somewhere in the school, a bell rang.
"Come," said Edmund "that's the bell for the end of the day. We'll go back home and see Lucy."
"But – Susan!" Timothy protested. "You said she was here. You wish me to leave without even seeing my wife?"
Again, Edmund hesitated. Ariel felt a spark of fear. Why did he look so uneasy? Was there something wrong with her mother?
"Susan's very busy." Edmund said carefully. "Large class, lots of work to mark, all that. She might not want…"
"To see her husband after being separated for five or nine or Lion knows how many years?" Timothy snapped. "This is ridiculous. Where is she?"
"Upstairs, second door on the right." Edmund said miserably. "But I must warn you, Timothy…"
But Ariel's father wasn't waiting. He walked briskly out of the room, Ariel trotting at his heels to keep up. Her heart was singing. Her mother! She was going to see her mother!
The second door on the right was slightly ajar. Ariel pushed past her father and ran in.
She was there. Smaller and slighter than Ariel remembered, her black hair done up in curious curls, wearing a sensible blue schoolteacher's dress. She was wiping words off the blackboard, her back to the door.
"Mother!" Ariel cried. Behind her, she heard her father enter the room. "Mother, it's me!"
Susan turned, slowly. The duster dropped from her hand. She stood quite still, staring at the two of them, her mouth a perfect "o".
Ariel ran to her and hugged her tightly. She shut her eyes tight, tears squeezing out, and for a moment everything was perfect. Then a pair of thin hands forced her back and Susan was staring down at her with a mixture of shock and revulsion.
"Who are you and what do you want?" demanded Susan Pevensie.
That last sentence was kinda depressing to write. I think I'll go eat something now.