𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ━ edmund pevensie¹

Eight

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𝕿𝖜𝖔 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘
𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔𝖌𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊
𝖇𝖊𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞❜𝖗𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖗𝖓

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━━━━━━━Ｃｏｒｎｅｌｉａ

CORNELIA STARED at the dark-haired boy in front of her, her heart never ceasing its rapid rhythm. In almost a whisper, hardly daring to believe what she'd dreamt of for so long was actually happening, she asked, "you're Edmund? Edmund Pevensie?"

She can't help but think finallyfinallyfinally.

The boy nodded, his dark eyes wide with shock.

"Oh, wow," she breathed, her eyes scanning over the boy, taking in his odd attire— similarly styled to Lucy's, "I can't believe it. I mean, I always wanted this to happen, but I thought— I thought because there was always nothing-"

"You didn't feel anything either?" was the first thing out of the boy's mouth.

She shook her head, "I, well, I thought you didn't exist."

(But of course he does. It's almost impossible— but then again, impossible wasn't a word Cornelia liked to use. There was always a chance.)

A prick of guilt shot through her— not her own. That was something to get used to— and she quickly said, "it's not your fault. I think I figured out why. I, er— it's a bit too complicated for me to explain right now but I can definitely tell you later," she wrapped her arms around herself, the cold setting in since they were standing still.

Edmund— Edmund!— looked down at the coat in his hands and then back to her before he approached her slowly, shaking out the fabric so he could drape it around her shoulders. Cornelia accepted the coat, instantly feeling warmer. He was so close she could reach out and touch him if she wanted to. She didn't, though, uncertain of how to proceed. She wasn't really used to meeting people her age, let alone her soulmate.

"I'm, um, I'm Cornelia Lewis," she said hesitatingly, "Lucy probably told you my middle name is Sophia."

"I know," the boy said, but not in a mean sort of way— more awed, if anything, "Cornelia Sophia Lewis."

She nodded, her face warming in a way that had nothing to do with her recently acquired coat. He was still staring at her. She hoped he wasn't disappointed. 

(His eyes were brown, she noted. All good things were, after all— chocolate and bread and strong tea.)

"This is all very nice," another voice cut in to their trance, "but where did you come from?"

It was the dark-haired girl again and Cornelia turned to her. She felt Edmund's spike of anger but she pushed back with gentle patience, not minding the question, "I came from the wardrobe, like you guys."

"Yes, but there aren't any other children in the Professor's house. It doesn't make sense, we would have seen you."

"Oh, well-"

"I think she's a ghost," Lucy cut in, "and comes to life in Narnia, because she wasn't with me when I went into the wardrobe either. Maybe she's a spirit guide!"