Chapter 6: Red

Jessabelle's POV

It wasn't long before the White Witch took over that I met Mr. Tumnus. The sky had just turned cloudy and snow now covered the ground in layers. The adaption to the cold was harsh, but I had nowhere to go but onward. I wasn't sure where I was headed as long as it was somewhere warm. Mr. Tumnus took me in one day, when he found me walking and shivering in the cold, the only thing to keep me warm was the red scarf around my neck.

He brought me in for tea. Introduced me to his odd looking flute. Played me a lullaby.

Before I knew it, I woke up in the White Witch's dungeon, still shivering from the cold. My neck exposed because of the missing scarf.

"Hello? Mr. Tumnus?"

"He's abandoned you." I heard a growl nearby. One of the White Witch's wolf guards stood outside my cell, glaring me down. I pressed my back into the ice wall as he added, "He turned you into the queen."

"Why would he do that?" I cried, my voice cracking under the fresh tears that were ready to come.

"He's loyal to HER."

A tear fell, hot down my cheek. Almost freezing to my skin from the cold atmosphere. "He's been tricked…"

"No. He's smart, unlike you." He pressed his furry face against the bars, poking his nose through as if to sniff me. "Your kind don't belong here anymore."

It was a long, long time before they threw Mr. Tumnus in the cell next to mine. He cried and cried, and cried some more when he saw me. He begged me to forgive him, but I had already done that a while ago. There was no room for holding grudges where I was.

"My scarf…" I pointed out that he was wearing the red fabric around his neck.

"H-here! Here, please!" He held the scarf out to me but I merely shook my head.

"No, it's okay. You need it more than I do," I resisted the urge to scratch at the scars on my wrist, the ones I got from the chains being too tight. I tried ignoring the pain in my temple where blood oozed from my previous beating for yelling at the "queen". Most of all, my bones ached from lying on the cold, hard ground. But there was one thing that was for certain, "Besides, I don't really feel cold anymore…"

Caspian's POV

"You really think she's an angel?" I asked, sitting next to Edmund on a pair of stone steps, both of us dryly chewing on some bread rolls offered to us by the centaurs.

Edmund's eyes remained on Lost Girl, who he assumed to be Jessabelle, as she sat across the room, letting Susan braid her hair. I let my eyes trail to the older brunette whose hands trailed over the younger girl's hair. Lucy sat next to them, talking excitedly about something that we couldn't hear. When I asked my question, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and stared down at the ground.

"You don't believe us, do you?" He asked.

I chuckled. "I mean… Not really. I've known her for a few months now, she seems like a normal person to me." Edmund's eyes lifted off the ground as Lost Girl got up from her spot on the ground and ran over to help Peter who had been trying to carry many weapons at once and lost balance, resulting in the swords and axes falling to the ground with a clash. "Besides, if she died, why would she be here now?"

Edmund shrugged. "No idea… But she died once before and came back… Who is to say she can't do it again?"

"Right. You mean, when she died in the castle."

"Yes, and then Aslan sent her back to me."

"Why?"

His eyes still trained on her as she talked to Peter, he simply said, "He believed she would save me, guide me. And she did."

I leaned back against the step; not the most comfortable position, but I needed to stretch my back and let all this information sink in. I did as Edmund did and watched Jessabelle. She helped Peter carry half of his load to a table a few feet away. She waddled a little under the weight before setting the weapons down and then she smiled up at Peter as he talked to her.

"Did you love her?" I asked him as I turned to see he was still starring.

Whether or not he wanted to admit it, his cheeks flushed immensely. He copied my posture as he leaned back against the stone steps, trying to look more relaxed than he was. But I noticed how his face colored and his shoulders tensed up.

"We were just kids," he explained as his eyes automatically found her in the room full of people once more. "I was elven, she was merely ten years old, and I didn't know what love was."

I shrugged and took a bite of my bread before asking, "Do you now?"

He rolled his eyes just slightly, seeming a tad irritated with me and probably feeling defensive, which I thought was humorous. "She's my best friend, even if she doesn't remember me. She doesn't need to remember, I remember enough for the both of us." I could tell he was lying, though. It upset him to the core that she couldn't remember.

"You've barely spoken to her since we ran into each other," I pointed out.

His eyes fell once more, making him look almost guilty. "I figured she'd like her space…"

"You're afraid to talk to her?"

He turned his head to look at me for the first time and I could've sworn I saw flames spark deep in them. I had hit a nerve that I didn't know existed.

"What am I supposed to say?" He growled. "What do you say to your dead-not-so-dead best friend who died for YOU? I'm not my siblings, I'm not going to just pretend everything is okay and act like this isn't complicated because it is! It's highly complicated with a dash of bizarre and insane!"

"Something wrong?" We both snapped out of it as another voice had spoken up. Jessabelle and Peter stood standing in front of us, both looking a little concerned and confused.

"No." Edmund quickly replied, his eyes lingering on her just a second longer than usual before he dropped his gaze back to the floor, taking a small bite of his bread.

I sighed. This was clearly going nowhere.

"Edmund thinks you're an angel." I told her.

Her first reaction was complete confusion; if it had lasted longer than a few seconds, I might've laughed at the expression she made on her face. But the expression quickly transformed to a dust of pink on her cheeks and the look of embarrassment. Then, finally, realization hit and she looked back at Edmund, seeming as surprised as I had expected her to be.

"You think I'm the angel?" She asked. "The one who saved your life."

He rolled his eyes once more, but turned his head so she couldn't see.

Peter then spoke up, "Come on, Jessabelle. I'm sure they were just arguing about something irrelevant. Lets-."

"And why do you guys keep calling me that?" She turned her attention to Peter. "That was her name, wasn't it? The angel who watched over you guys. Her name was Jessabelle."

"We don't have to talk about this," he started to say, but she cut him off.

"No, I want to know." Once again, she looked to Edmund and was surprised to see him looking back at her. "Well? Was that her name?"

I continuously turned my head from her to him, over and over again for what felt like forever. It was almost like they were communicating internally, like they could understand one another without any words; however, I was completely lost.

Finally, Edmund spoke up in a quiet, defeated voice. "Yes. That was her name." He tossed what was left of his bread aside and straightened out his tunic. 'Sorry. Thought the name suited you. Don't worry. Won't use it again." And with that, he quickly walked off.

Peter sighed, shooting me a quick glare. "Good going."

When Jessabelle looked down at me, I merely shrugged. "What did I do?" I asked.

"I'll go check on him."

"No, please…" Jessabelle glanced down the hall he disappeared in before speaking up. "Let me."

Edmund's POV

Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe it wasn't her…

She surely looked like her, though. Even acted like her. Everyone watched Peter dropped those swords, except her: she rushed to help him. She helps everyone. She helped me.

But why would she be back? Why would she die TWICE and then come back to me both times? Did she enjoy my suffering? It hurt. It hurt a lot to see her walking around and talking like nothing ever happened. It did happen: she died. Right in my arms.

As I sat on the stone table, I peered down at the palm of my hands and could still see the blood slipping through my fingers. It was her blood because I was there, but I wasn't fast enough to save her. I was only there to hold her when she disappeared. Literally. Most people take their last breathe, close their eyes, then they're gone.

But her hold body slipped right through my hands as if she was made out of air. The only thing left of her was the red blood on my hands.

Jessabelle's POV

I walked into the room as silently as I could. Although Edmund sat on the stone table with his back to me, I knew he heard me come in as his shoulders stiffened and he lifted his head just a tad. I continued to walk forward though until I was standing on the other end of the table.

"You know, usually when someone walks away from a conversation, they're done talking?" He told me, trying to sound harsh. However, he was failing miserably. He sounded too upset to be sarcastic right now.

But I could be sarcastic, too. "Too bad. I wasn't done talking."

He laughed dryly and shook his head, his long, dark hair following the movement. He kept his back to me as he asked, "What more could you want to know?"

"How did you guys meet?" I don't think that was actually what I wanted to ask, but it was the first thing that popped out of my mouth. For some reason, I wanted to know more about this girl- this angel. It was important for me to understand her if he was comparing me to her.

"Doesn't matter." I watched his head fall once more as he looked down at his hands. "She's gone."

I sighed, walking around the table to sit beside him. "I just… I want to understand… Why are you so sure that I am her?"

"Because she's my best friend," he replied without a second of hesitation. Still starring at the ground, he explained, "That's like asking how I know how to breathe: I just do."

That brought me up short. It certainly wasn't the response I was expecting: although, now I wasn't sure what to expect. Sighing, I peered up at the carving of Aslan.

"He brought you to me…" I turned to see him looking up at Aslan as well. "When you died- the first time- I thought for sure I was going to die next, but the White Witch spared my life, just to use me as a pawn. I was scared and alone… But one night, you showed up again."

"Edmund!" I whispered as loud as I could. I knew touching him was pointless and wouldn't work, so I did my best to wake him up without frightening him. If he screamed now, the guards would surely wake up or Tumnus would, and they'd find him crazy for saying he could see me. No one could see me but him, Aslan, and his siblings. That was one of Aslan's warnings.

When he jumped up, my head turned to the cell and I sighed in relief when none of the sleeping trolls stirred. "About time you woke up," I grinned.

"Jessabelle?" He looked at me with wide eyes, almost in terror. "B-but… How? I watched them drag you away… Y-you're dead…."

"He sent me to watch over you, Edmund."

"Who did?" He whispered.

"Aslan! He's real, Ed, and he asked me to guide you."

Still looking confused, he asked another question just as Aslan told me he would, "Guide me where?"

"Back to your siblings," I explained. "And to him."

"Why would he send someone like me?" I asked him, looking back up at Aslan's stone eyes. "I'm just a girl…"

We were close enough where we weren't touching, but I could still feel him shrug his shoulders. "Don't know." There was a hint of smiling in his voice as he added, "But you told me you were my guardian angel."

"That's why everyone knows about the 'angel'."

"Of course," his voice turned into a new form of quietness. It was soft. "I wasn't going to let the memory of you disappear… Not after you saved me…"

I could feel my eyes water a tad at the corners, blurring my vision slightly as I stared at the blank form of Aslan's eyes, nothing like his real eyes. "But it's already disappeared… It disappeared from me, Edmund… I can't remember…"

"Don't cry," he whispered, his voice sounding strained. "I can't comfort you if you do…"

Taking an odd risk, I whispered back, "A hug sometimes helps…" I wasn't sure why I was asking for a hug from him at the moment. I tried to excuse it for the simplest reason: I needed a hug and he was the only one around. But he flinched slightly at my request.

"I can't…"

"Why?" I asked, suddenly more frustrated than ever. "Let me guess, you're going to tell me my touch is poison now, too? What else don't I know about myself?"

"You're touch doesn't exist!" He snapped.

"What are you talking about?!"

"I can't touch you. I never could. After your first death, you became transparent—the only time I was able to touch you was when you were dying the second time, in my ar-."

I took the chance, reached out and grabbed his wrist. His breath hitched slightly at the newfound contact and his eyes were wide as he looked down. The shock of it somehow reached me somewhere in the back of my mind as well. It left us both speechless for a second.

"I'm not a ghost, Edmund…" I whispered, feeling a little breathless at the unexplainable emotions that ran through me. I didn't realize how hard I was squeezing him until I attempted to let go and color returned back to my knuckles.

But I froze once more as his fingers curled around mine. "Wait…" He took a deep breath, still starring down at his hands. He was silent for the longest time and I took the opportunity to observe him up close. His eyes were lighter than I had expected, reminding me of the fur on a teddy bear for a young child. His eyelashes were long enough to brush the tops of his cheeks every time he blinked. His nose looked like Lucy's.

"I know you don't remember me…" He started, struggling to find his words. I sat patiently, though, not moving my hand out of his. "I know you don't remember yourself either… But you don't need to."

"I don't?"

He shook his head, finally looking up at me. We were closer than I realized when he lifted his head and I quickly leaned away. He took another deep breath before replying.

"No. Because you're my best friend either way."

A tear slipped before I even realized it was forming. Edmund frowned and almost dropped my hand, but then decided against it, and just held onto it tighter.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I'm tired." I stated. "I'm tired of not knowing who I am. I'm tired of not being able to remember, of not understanding…" I choked back a sob, but that didn't stop the tears. "I'm just so exhausted, Edmund…"

He sighed, letting go of my hand this time. The lack of warmth came as such a shock that it stopped the tears immediately. But before I could wonder why, he placed his hand on my shoulder. I looked at him through my blurry vision.

"Come here," he offered.

I felt awkward about it at first even though I didn't hesitate to lean forward and lay my forehead on his shoulder. It took him about a minute before he wrapped one arm around my shoulders. The action caused me to move forward more and before I fell over, I scooted closer, burying my face in his shirt.

He smelled like the soil and the grass soaked in sunlight and rain. For some reason the smell steered me straight into calming down. I felt him wrap his other arm around me and hold me tighter, squeezing just slightly.

Caspian's POV

"See? There was nothing to worry about." She whispered as we spied on her brother and Lost Girl. We were peering around the corner at them, watching them hug. Although Susan had promised me that he wouldn't lay a hand on her, no matter how angry he was, I still felt it was necessary to check on them. She was right. But I wasn't going to say that.

"You said he wouldn't lay a hand on her," I smiled at her teasingly. "But now they're HUGGING. You lied."

I watched as she did her best not to laugh. But I felt victorious nonetheless as she smiled. "You knew what I meant. He wouldn't hurt her, ever."

"Of course not. He's so smitten with her."

She gave me a pointed look, "He's only sixteen years old."

I shrugged, still smiling. "A first love never dies, not really."

"What would you know about first love?" She giggled before turning and walking away.

As I watched her braid swinging to and fro behind her, the red ribbon tied to the endof her hair shined in the light of the torch.

I whispered, "I'm still learning."