The Pevensies: The Art of Adjusting

'We went back...'

Thursday 2nd July, 1942 (14:26)
57 Eversleigh Road, Finchley, NW London

Edmund held Lucy in such an embrace that it looked as if it were with a death-grip. A tender, affectionate death grip, nonetheless. His head was bent over above hers, his eyes closed. His younger sister clung to him just as tightly, her fists balled around the fabric of his shirt, head under his.

Susan and Peter stood at the door a moment, doing their very best not to disturb such a moment as they observed the scene. The silhouette of the Young King and Queen's embrace emitted nothing but compassion, the moment seeming to be the pinnacle of fraternal love.

It was unusual, both elder Monarchs would admit, if you were to ask of the normality of such situation. Edmund had never been one to favour physical affection, dodging their embraces or mother's kisses. Yet, at this moment, he held Lucy so tightly that Susan wouldn't have been surprised if Lucy had of burst. The Gentle Queen looked on in awe, consumed with the love for her siblings as she allowed her head to rest on Peter's shoulder.

Peter's brows furrowed in worry, however. Something- something was wrong. It had to be. The last time Edmund had held anyone like this it had, indeed, been Lucy. But that had been a fateful day. That had been the day that the Valiant Queen had first announced that she would join her brothers in battle. Susan had cried for the rest of the day, begging Lucy not to and refusing to leave her side until Lucy had ordered Oreius to restrain the elder Queen as she'd mounted her horse, preparing for her first battle. Peter had done his best to comfort Susan in whatever way he could, but with little success. The best he had managed was when he had promised to protect Lucy with his life (not that he'd do anything else), yet this had only lead Susan to cry harder.

Edmund, however, had stayed silent on the matter when Lucy had made her announcement, his expression had been unreadable. It had only been later that day that Peter had overheard his two youngest siblings talking. Edmund had been reassuring her that she was doing the right thing (despite Susan's outcry) and that, as long as Aslan was with them, she had nothing to fear.

That day, their baby sister had joined the Narnian army on the battlefield, returning to Cair Paravel with nothing more than a few bruises.

So, why should this embrace be any different? Obviously, Lucy wasn't going to fight again, but it had to be something.

The moment only lasted a second for the elder Pevensie siblings however, as Edmund, ever aware of his surroundings, lifted his head and looked between them. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of Lucy's head before pulling away. His hands slid into hers as she looked into her eyes.

"We've to tell them, Lu." He told her, quietly.

Peter, unable to hold back his anxieties much longer, stepped forward into the dimly lit room, causing Lucy to spin to face him.

"Pe-"

"Tell us what?"
Lucy shifted on her feet, uncomfortably, tugging on Edmund's hand, sending him a worried glance. He nodded to her encouragingly, only to be met with a refusing headshake.

"You tell them... please, Ed."

He sighed.

"We went back."
There was a beat. Silence.

A horrid, awkward silence that deafened Edmund until he was forced to break it.

"To Narnia." He added.

"Of course to Narnia, we know what you meant!" Susan snapped but clamped her lips shut again as she continued to process this new information, glancing between her siblings.