Hello, my dearest readers! Sorry I went kind of M.I.A on all of you but things got pretty crazy just before Christmas. Now that I am on break for a month I will able to spend time on this story! I hope you all are excited because I sure am!

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Chaper 2 Buried Beneath All the Lies

- x -
Evi
- x -

I'm dreaming.

And I know that I'm dreaming.

But I have no intention of waking myself up as I find myself back in Narnia, sometime after nightfall, just outside the Beavers' dam. I can hear the sound of rushing water and even feel the cold mist against my cheeks as I stand on the bank.

And Peter is there.

In fact, it's the same night Peter told me he loved me for the first time...I'll never forget it.

He was so angry with me, yelling at me even. And then he said it. He lost his nerve and told me he loved me...

"I've tried to convince myself otherwise. I've tried to push you away, to let you leave. And I've tried to tell myself that I don't...but...every time I see you... my heart races...Every time you're not around...I long to see your face again. You drive me completely mad," he adds with a tear-filled chuckle, "You're loud, you're unpredictable...but I love every single thing about you. You've got me so un-bloody-hinged, I can hardly stand it. And every time you go riding off I pray...just pray to God I'll get to see your beautiful face one more time so that I can tell you all of this," just like when it happened, he's standing in front of me cupping my face in his hands as the tears blaze down his cheeks.

This was the night I realized I loved him back, that I had always loved him. There wasn't a thing I could do though. Arma would have kicked me out of Narnia so fast I probably wouldn't have even gotten a chance to say goodbye.

"I know that you can't feel the same way about me," he sighs, opening his eyes again to look at me, "And that's ok. I'll still be waiting."
"Hold on, Peter. I'm going to find a way to you," I tell him, leaning my head against his chest and letting my eyes gently close. When I open my eyes, Peter's still there but he's much older about six years older and we're standing in front of the waterfall inside Cair Paravel's walls.

Another memory.

It is the day I regret the most and have pushed so far to the back of my mind I haven't even thought of it until now. This is the day I made Peter believe I didn't love him. He had kissed me, hard on the lips and I had kissed him back, effectively breaking the code.

I should have been kicked out of Narnia for it. But I made Peter believe I didn't love him and that I loved Finnick and had been with Finnick for some time. I didn't want to leave Narnia...

So I lied.

That was the biggest mistake of my life.

"No," he defiantly shakes his head, "He can't take you from me. I won't let it happen. I love you, we love each other," he takes my hands in his, tears pooling in his eyes, "You love me right?"

Right.

I catch him off guard when I bring his lips back down on mine, my tongue searching out his to just remember the taste and feel of this kiss. Peter's fingers comb through my hair and press against the small of my back, my hips connecting with his. I pull away from him, lips swollen and red from his passion and I smile, tears of joy streaking down my cheeks.

"I love you more than anything, Peter," I tell him, kissing away the unshed tears at the corners of his eyes.
"You do?"
"Yes, of course," I fervently nod with a warm smile, "I always have."

He lets out a contented sigh, leaning his forehead down on mine, my hands clasped in his.

"Marry me, Evi," he whispers.

But he fades...and Narnia around him as well and I'm seventeen again, in a city with which I'm unfamiliar. Peter is still with me—and Ed this time—but stranger still, they're both much older than me.

"This doesn't feel right," I say, Peter's hand clamped around mine as we descend the stairs into a tunnel, a sign reading London Underground, "We're not supposed to go back."

I'm in my dream, but it's almost as if I'm a third person observer. I have no idea what I'm talking about...the words just come out of my mouth and my legs are moving but I'm not moving them.

"You aren't supposed to be here and yet here you are," Peter points to me and I'm slightly annoyed at that condescending tone in his voice. He sees my frown and offers an apologetic smile with a brief kiss to my lips.

"What time is it?" Ed frowns on my right as we stop on the platform.
"Nearly four," I reply, glancing down at my watch.
"The train should be here by now," Peter mutters, peering down the tunnel and protectively bringing me into the warmth of his body.

An eerie silence consumes the platform and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end as that feeling of foreboding creeps back under my skin. Even the other folk on the platform are becoming restless.

"This doesn't feel right," I mumble again, letting my head sink into Peter's broad chest.
"No, you're right," Edmund says cutting off his brother who was about to protest, "Something's not right."

Almost as soon as he said it, the train comes rearing around the corner, going far too fast, slamming violently into the concrete walls. None of us have time to dive out of the way as the train derails, all hell breaking loose as I'm ripped away from Peter in the crowd. A haunting groan grips the entire station and suddenly the ceiling collapses, Ed not even able to yell as the rubble falls on him. Another sickening screech fills my ears and there's an odd, tingling sensation in my side but it's the sight of Peter that makes me scream.

So much blood.

He's utterly limp, slouched against the wall with the blood pouring from his head wound. Not a single muscle in his body stirs as I shriek and scream and wail his name.

"Peter," my eyes snap open, my mind focusing on the reality around me. For a long while, I'm not able to move. I just stare at the ceiling; the only other sound in the room is Finnick's heavy breathing next to me.

That dream was unsettling on so many different levels. For one, it just felt so real. I could feel what was going on...the pain no exception. And it was so clear...like I was living it.

Lifting my head I see that Finnick is next to me, lying face down with his arm draped loosely over my bare body. My stomach churns with guilt as I connect the dream with reality and I can't stand to be in bed with Finnick.

Peter.

I fight off a couple silent tears as I gather my clothes and pick up the gorgeous necklace from the top of the dresser. Its colors are changing just as the sun is rising outside, the pendent turning from dark blue to pastel, lined with silver.

How could I forget him so easily?

How could I just toss him aside and be with Finnick?

What in God's name happened to me?

I hated Finnick and loved Peter when I came back from Narnia.

And now?

I'm having sex with Finnick like it's no big deal.

The guilt consuming my body is suffocating and the filth that I feel makes my skin crawl as I look back at Finnick and remember what we did just hours ago. The sudden urge to shower overtakes me and I rush out of his room to my bathroom.

I remember now.

Finnick was just distraction.

I couldn't stomach the pain after returning to Earth and the hole that was left inside me was so big I didn't know what else to do. Finnick was my only link to Narnia so I indulged in him and made myself forget everything else.

Only now, Peter's necklace has just reminded me of it all.

I wish I never slept with Finnick. I just want the memory of last night and every other night to be wiped from my memory, to have all these marks and love bites on my body all washed away. And I scrub and scrub until my skin is red and raw.

I just wanted Finnick off.

To forget it ever happened.

But it will never be enough. I can never undo what happened between Finnick and me. For a while I just stand there in the hot water, crying into my hands wanting nothing more than to see Peter, the way his dirty blonde hair falls into his sharp blue eyes, the way his perfectly adorable smile stretches his entire face when he laughs, the way he tucks my hair behind my ear and illicitly whispers how he loves me.

"Peter, I'm sorry," I cry to myself, wrapping a towel around my body as I hold the necklace between my fingers.

I just want to see him.

Just one more time so I can tell him.

But he's in Nar—

Wait a minute...

My head shoots up with a sudden thought and I scramble from my bathroom to change into some clothes, tying the necklace around my neck.

As part of the Order I wasn't allowed to leave Narnia, like I physically could not leave unless I broke the code.

So it is written: For as long as there is a Son of Adam on the throne of Narnia, The Order of Lion and all it entails shall be enforced

I was returned home because they were returned home! The Pevensies aren't in Narnia!

They're here!

"Get up, Finnick," I command, throwing a duffel bag on his legs, going to his dresser to start packing his clothes.
"Where's the fire?" he sluggishly asks, peering tiredly through one eye, "Have you showered already? Bloody hell, what time is it?" he grabs the clock on the bedside table.

"Time to get up. We've got a plane to catch," I say, stuffing some shirts into his bag.
"Plane?" he rubs his hands vigorously over his face, shaking the sleep out of his mind.
"We're going to England," I say, throwing all his toiletries in as well.
"What's in England?" he pulls on a pair of boxers.

"The Pevensies," I say, throwing him his bag before leaving the room.

- x -
Micah
- x -

Narnians.

I don't believe it.

There are Narnians in this strange world.

They're in hiding, deep below the surface of the ground in intricately built civilizations. As I was fleeing those men from that contraption, I was saved by a girl and a boy scarcely even twelve and they brought me here.

They say that Narnians somehow are stumbling into this world. A great sorcerer was transported here as well, gaining control over the humans of this world, convincing them that the Narnians are terrorists, branded with the mark I discovered earlier.

Since I arrived I haven't been able to take my eyes off of it. It's clearly the paw of a lion being struck through by a sword. What it means I have no idea, but there is only one being that could have placed it there.

Aslan.

Where is he in all this chaos?

Aslan is supposed to be our protector.

How could he let so many of us fall into this mad world?

"The chief wants to speak with you," an older gentleman says from the doorway of my small chamber. I can only nod as I stand to follow him.

The corridors are very dark, someone telling me that it's to conserve "electricity," whatever that is. Many people whisper in hushed tones as we pass but I pay them no mind as I try to piece together all this strange information.

The way to the chief is incredibly confusing as we turn left then right, travel down some stairs only to turn right and up another set. My head is reeling by the time we reach the center chamber where the chief takes counsel.

"Wait here," the man says before slipping into the room.

Through the door I can hear the muffled sound of voices until the door suddenly swings open, light cascading from the room. I take a few tentative steps forward, spotting the gentleman who escorted me here and a striking creature I recognize as a Boreade.

I make no effort to conceal the frown that turns my lips.

How is a Boreade governing the Narnians?

"You seem unimpressed," he wryly smiles in his chair.
"Do I?" I snidely reply.

The Boreade chuckles, something flashing in his eyes as he stares at me. It looked something like recognition. How could he possibly know me? I've never met him before in my life.

Wait.

Boreades.

Suddenly a whole slew of memories come flooding back to me.

Queen Gwyn.

She was working with someone...blast!

Why can I not remember?

"You see?" the man frowns, something that is shadowed on the Boreade's face as well.

"Do you not know who you are?" the Boreade asks.
"My name is Micah," I tell him, my headache throbbing in my temples.

"How are we to be sure it's him?" the man asks, ignoring the fact that I'm in the room as well.

"Let me see your hand," the Boreade beckons me forward.

I hesitate.

"Come, come. I won't harm you," he urges and I cautiously step forward. I flinch when he roughly grabs my hand to reveal the mark. He studies it for a few minutes, examining each aspect of it: the lion print, the sword, the bow, and the curling letter B, the latter two symbols appearing sometime in the walk from my chamber.

"Do you not know who you are?" he asks again, "Think carefully."
"I..." but I don't finish my thought as I remember that my name is not Micah.

I was a soldier...my father was a soldier...my mother was a star. Ilyria was her name. I remember her. She was so beautiful, almost angelic. But what happened to them? Why can I not remember my name or my father's?

"No," I shake my head, as my memories start to slip from my grasp.

The Boreade sighs, turning away from me.

"He cannot be used until he remembers," he tells the man.
"I'm right here," I bitterly say, annoyed with how they were talking about me, "What do I not remember? Do you know who I am? Just what in the name of Aslan do you want with me?"

The Boreade and the man exchange furtive glances as I seethe with anger.

"You, Sire, are the last remaining heir of General Maxwell Beckett."

- x -
Evi
- x -

"Yeah, you really need to stop," I frown at Finnick, kicking his nervously bouncing leg.

"This isn't natural. This isn't right. I want to get off. Get. Me. Off," he rambles, ignoring my request as he bounces the other leg while anxiously tapping his fingers on the arm rest.

"Would you shut up?" I groan, leaning back into my seat, "You're just fine. Turbulence is normal."

Even my stomach tightens as the plane takes another short dip, the seatbelt light blinking on as a stewardess comes on the intercom.

"Due to rough turbulence ahead, the captain has requested that you return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts," the cool voice instructs.

Finnick has his tightly around his waist before the woman even finishes her instruction. For a while, Finnick's worry was highly amusing but seven hours into the flight he's become the biggest pain in my ass. The plane jolts again, Finnick's hand clamping down on mine.

"I don't like this!" he hisses, squeezing my hand.

With an aggravated look I pry Finnick's hand off mine, "You being needy is highly unattractive."

"Shut your mouth," he grumbles, making me smirk.
"Relax. We're almost there. Just take a nap or something," I lazily say, picking up the sky mall for about the fifth time.

For a while all he does is tensely bite his nails until he eventually settles back with his eyes closed. I watch him sleep for a moment, glad that he finally calmed down.

He really did not want me to go. It was actually quite shocking how vehemently he protested us going, yelling and tearing my suitcase from my hands several times. Anger got the best of him and it scared me. There have been few times I've seen Finnick so angry. I just didn't understand why he was so against it.

A sigh passes my lips as my fingers smooth over the pendent around my neck. Ever since I got this back, Peter has been invading my mind non-stop, the sick feeling of doubt coming with it.

I don't know if I can do this.

The Peter is my head is going to be outrageously different then the Peter alive now. I'll be a young girl and he'll be an old man. I mean, what if he doesn't even remember me?

And then there's the possibility that he's already passed from old age...

But I push that thought to the back of my mind as I slide the magazine back into the pouch. My eyes flutter close as an uneasy sleep takes hold of me. That disturbing dream searing through my head.

Flashes of the derailing train, Edmund being crushed, my own screams as I see Peter.

"Evi."

Finnick's voice startles me awake.

"What?" I ask, rubbing my eyes as if trying to erase the images from my eyes.

"You slept through the landing. We're here."