Daughter of Eve, Niece of Thomas
By JalendaviLady
Timeline: A few days post-The Last Battle and beyond.
Disclaimer: The upcoming and already-released movies belongs to Walden Media and the books belong to the current holders of the C. S. Lewis's estate.
Chapter 9: The Cottage
"Is she always like that?" Susan whispered as they stepped outside.
"Toned down from what she used to be like, honestly." Mogie sighed. "She's one of the more extreme, though."
"No one does anything to change it? No one speaks up?"
"Not really, no."
She stopped and looked straight at him. The sun was setting behind him. "You all just accept this?"
"What else are we supposed to do? We're Nephews and Nieces of someone who had no place with the rest." He kept walking, and Susan followed.
There was a small guest cottage at the end of the path. "Who owns this place?"
"It's been held in a sort of trust for centuries. The whole situation is rather hard to explain. I don't think I even understand most of it."
She was once again struck that something about him, something about how he looked or talked, reminded her of something else. She still couldn't tell what it was, or how, but it was there.
"Your real first name is Jaime?"
He nodded. "I prefer the nickname, though."
They finally got to the door and Mogie held it for her. "Susan's here to meet Bertram," he called out.
"And considering what I heard as I was leaving, I think I'd be more at ease here than there," she opined.
"First time I've ever heard that," a man ten years her elder and at least five older than Mogie called out. "It's a nice change."
Nearly everyone laughed.
"My name is John," he offered, extending his hand.
She shook it.
A woman with slightly graying hair came over. "If I understand correctly, one of your siblings was one of us?"
Susan nodded. "I think Professor Kirke was trying to keep us all away." She sniffled. "Doesn't matter now, does it? They're all safe between his paws."
"Indeed they are. I'm Catherine."
They wandered through the crowd.
A middle-aged gentleman in a brown suit was sitting at a table in the farthest corner of the next room. "There's someone to meet you, Bertram. She's not one of us, but she's friendly enough."
He looked up from the drink he had been sipping at. "Good evening. My name is Bertram Wirth."
His was among the thicker German accents Susan had ever heard, and it rather shocked her. The war had, after all, only ended a few years ago.
"Mine is Susan Pevensie."
His eyes widened. "Pevensie? Did you by any chance know Edmund?"
It took a moment to regain composure. "My little brother."
Bertram pushed a chair out from the table with his foot. "Come, sit down. No need to stand weeping when you can sit and do it properly."
She sat down. "How did you know him?"
"He volunteered at the charity I work at. To be quite honest, we were only a few days away from offering a permanent paid position to him."
She remembered him talking about where he went every Saturday to Peter...
That accent...
"Oh."
He looked at her out of the side of his eyes. "Nothing quite like losing several coworkers and other good friends after you've already lost everything else." He lifted his drink and took a large gulp.
She shifted uneasily in her chair. She had been used to the fine art of talking with those who had suffered tragedies in Narnia, but she had been a queen there, free to ask questions that would be beyond daring now.
"So, did I overhear correctly? One of your siblings was like us?"
"We were all travelers, and yes, one of us caused what happened." She started at the wall behind him. "Doesn't matter. They're gone."
A long pause. Across the room, Mogie was laughing at something Catherine said. "All of them?"
"And everyone else I knew who traveled. And our parents."
He said something softly in German that she didn't understand.
They sat quietly for a moment, and then he asked her, "Then you have not spoken at length with anyone who traveled somewhere other than your own second world?"
"No, I haven't. Glenn has told me a few things, but not much, and Mogie..."
"Mogie does not say much of anything about his second world to anyone." He sighed. "You understand that sometimes one travels with family, and sometimes one travels with friends?"
She nodded. "My cousin Eustace did both."
"Ah. Now, we Nieces and Nephews travel the same ways. One of us may make that essential mistake while in a world with family, and another may make it with friends in the world. With that comes an incredible diversity of relationships."
She thought of how they had all reacted differently to what Edmund had done, both immediately and over time. "I saw that among us."
"Travelers figure him out at different speeds and different times."
She nodded.
"Mogie traveled with a distant cousin who did not like him much. This cousin was older, and gained an understanding long before Mogie could have. When Mogie told her he had received his 'learn of me in your own world' notice, she told him what he had done."
Susan flinched.
"Others of us have it much easier. Some even figure out who he really is on their last travel. He never confirms it, even if one has the temerity to ask him, but those who understand before leaving do tend to take it a bit better in the long term. I was not so lucky. My wife Abigail," his voice cracked, "may his wing ever be her shelter, was."
"She was a Niece?"
He nodded.
She noticed the tear track on his cheek and – wisely so – kept the conversation on the lovely summer England was having for the rest of the evening. She had so many questions, but it wasn't her place to ask - not yet, maybe not ever.
It was wonderfully interesting just watching everyone talk about worlds so incredibly different from Earth or Narnia that she almost felt that they shouldn't exist.
There were so many people here, even at this side gathering...
But that meant...
Bertram must have seen the look on her face. "Yes, that many times. No doubt many more as well." His voice was grave. "There are very few worlds we know of where he hasn't yet, and we may just not have met the travelers who would know yet." He gave her a weak smile. "After all, we all thought he hadn't in the world Professor Kirke visited until hearing from you."
That bit of truth was almost too much to bear. There were at least fifty people here!
"Tell me, please. Which ever of your siblings it was... was he or she at some sort of peace about what had happened?"
"I don't know, I had stopped talking about Narnia at all." She remembered Edmund happily chattering to Peter about something he'd managed to set in motion that must have been at whatever survivors group Bertram worked with. "I think he probably was," she whispered, leaning close. "Or at least with what he was trying to do with himself."
Bertram's eyes filled with tears. "Oh no," he pleaded in a voice that sounded more than half-choked with emotion. "Please no. Not him."
She nodded sadly. "Him."