Y/N'S POV
I wake up with a splitting headache, the uncomfortable feeling of fabric against the healing wounds on my back, and someone's arms wrapped around me. I slowly open my eyes to the blinding morning light and shiver, I fell asleep without getting under the covers.
The arms around me happen to be Edmund's and I twist to observe our interesting position. My hands are pressed against his chest, my face buried into his neck, and his arms hold me flush against him. He's still fast asleep, so I carefully untwist myself from his grasp, while also trying to keep my back from scratching against the bed. It's a struggle, but eventually I'm standing up, out of breath, facing my still-asleep husband on the bed.
Memories flood my throbbing head, getting out of the bath, coming over to see what Edmund was working on, then it all goes blank. I must've fallen asleep. I groan in embarrassment, realizing we subconsciously moved like that in the night. I continue groaning as I walk into the bathroom, recalling the drinking and, oh, the dancing. The Your Majesties, the cold walk home. All of the events from the night before.
They bleed together into an uncomfortable mixture of embarrassment, and the memories haunt my mind as I tie my hair back and get dressed. Today, Edmund and I will ride back to the palace, stopping at the portal on our way home to see what we have to do with those hard-earned dragon teeth.
When I'm done getting myself ready, I walk back into our bedroom and shake Edmund awake, "Hey, wake up—no, don't look at me like that—Edmund, put the pillow down!" I say, deflecting myself from a fatal blow.
"I'm not responding until you address me as 'Your Majesty' again." He smirks.
"Shut up." I blush and look away.
"I would be willing to settle for Ed. You did call me that, too."
"Edmund Pevensie if you don't get out of that bed right now, I'm leaving without you."
"Fine, fine!" He throws his hands up in mock surrender, "I think I miss drunk you. She was a lot nicer. They should keep alcohol around the palace more."
"I'll talk to Peter about it." I smart, walking back into the bathroom to attempt to apply bandages to myself. That shuts him up very quickly.
—
We arrive at the tree gateway sometime midday, the sun is high and the air is cool from the first breaths of winter.
"What're we supposed to do with the dragon tooth anyway?" Edmund asks as we dismount our horses and approach the portal.
"That's what we're here to find out." As I run my fingers over the cool bark, I am reminded of what went down the last time I was here. The werewolf, its scratch, Edmund's rescue. I shudder at the thought.
Edmund crouches down and inspects the roots of the tree, running his fingers along it, "I never did get the chance to look at this thing very closely. I was too occupied saving your life and such."
"Right. And such." I laugh.
"Hold on, Y/N." Edmund speaks up, approaching the base of the two trees, "Let me see one of those teeth." I untie the leather pouch around my waist and toss one at him.
"Ow!" He exclaims when it hits him in the nose, "I'm still recovering from your elbow to my face yesterday, geez."
I cringe remembering how he had tried to stop me, only for me to end up falling anyway, "Yeah. Sorry about that. Kind of." I look back at the tree and sigh, "I don't know how we're supposed to figure this out on our own—"
"Got it!" Edmund cuts me off happily.
I rush over to him, "What do you mean—"
"Look." He holds the tooth out inches away from my face and slowly moves it back to the bark of the tree. Then I see it. A divot in the bark, with fresh green ivy swirling around it, the exact size of the dragon tooth. On either side there are two more holes, one skinny and deep, the other shallow and wide. Both carved perfectly into the swirling wood of the portal. Edmund slides the tooth into the middle divot, smiling when it locks into place. I break out into a smile too, feeling like we have made progress.
"Oh—let's open the book! We should be able to see the next step now if we did it right!" I say excitedly, sliding the spell book out of the waistband of my pants. I throw it open to our page and wait for the magic black ink to write itself.
Step Four: You have made it very far, only a few more steps to complete. But this one is very important, thought it may seem obsolete. In this world you call your home you must live one last boring day. Be absolutely sure that you want to leave, as this spell only goes one way.
Edmund and I finish reading at the same time and look over at each other, "So this step is to just...do nothing?" I frown.
"Guess so. The book does have a point. Once you're gone, you're gone for good. You need to be one-hundred-percent sure you want to leave."
"I do. One-hundred-percent." I say, nodding.
Edmund shrugs and we walk back over to our horses, mounting them for the long journey back home. Home? That palace is not your home, Y/N. It never will be. Edmund's rare silence gives me time to think and I realize a few things.
One being that while we certainly had our ups and downs, the past 2 days with Edmund have almost been...fun? The adventurous element, I suppose, it's been unlike anything I've ever experienced. The other thing I realize is that...I'm not sure why I want to leave so badly anymore. Caspian and I actually had a civil conversation, Edmund and I haven't had a real argument almost the whole time. (Minus the whole bridge thing, and I can admit that may have been a valid concern.)
So I suppose the thing propelling me away is pure spite, and a little bit of obsession. The thrill of completing each step, knowing each time I'm closer and closer to a world on endless possibilities. A world of opportunities completely different than anything I could ever imagine. You do want to leave, I tell myself. It's true. It's true. It's true.
Edmund stays quiet for most of the ride, I guess he's finally run out of things to say. I secretly blush when we ride past the stream where I kissed Peter and drank the sweet water. Peter. I want to see Peter.
We are soon at the palace, and Edmund's siblings wait for us at the entrance. Caspian doesn't.
"Edmund!" Lucy smiles, bounding up to him happily.
"Hi Luce!" He embraces her warmly.
"How was your trip?" Susan asks, approaching me with Peter in tow.
"It was really nice. Narnia is such a beautiful country." I say genuinely.
"Did you have a nice stay in the village?" Peter asks.
"Yes it was lovely, everyone was so nice."
Susan moves to speak to Edmund and Lucy, leaving just Peter and I. "So. There's another ball tonight. In honor of your return." He smiles lightly. I groan and rub my temple in annoyance. Must we throw a ball for every minor event? "Hey, wasn't my idea. Your brother's, actually."
"Figured." I roll my eyes, "Ugh, if Caspian throws another ball I will literally kill myself." I quickly flinch and realize, that's something Edmund would find funny, not Peter. "I...that wasn't funny. Sorry."
"You have a very...morbid sense of humor, Y/N." He laughs, shaking his head.
"Yeah." I laugh back, and something about the mention of a ball makes me think of Selene, who I'd almost managed to forget about. An uncontrolled rage boils inside of me when I remember the last time I talked to her, seeing her kiss Edmund. It made me mad at the time but, this time is different. I feel a different kind of anger, toward her and Edmund, and not just for the sheer irresponsible nature of their actions...no, it's something else. I can't quite place the feeling, it's unlike anything I've ever felt.
I feel it deep in my gut, the perfect way to quell this unfamiliar anger. I wait until I catch Edmund's eye over Susan's shoulder, and I smile at Peter, giving him a small squeeze on the arm. Edmund furrows his eyebrows at this. I then peck Peter lightly on the cheek and grin, "See you tonight!" I chime, walking past him. I let my eyes break contact with Edmund's just in time to see his face fall. It's a satisfying feeling, and the anger goes away.
If Selene tries to pull that again tonight, things could definitely get interesting.
—
"I hate balls. I hate balls. I hate balls—"
"Stop saying that. Stop saying that. Stop saying that." Edmund cuts me off as we reach the ballroom, arm in arm, "This will at least give us a chance to make up for the disastrous events of the last ball we attended together, right?"
"I guess," I whine.
"Okay, so go talk to Susan or something and I'll grab you a drink. As long as you promise not to throw it at my feet this time."
"We'll see."
He rolls his eyes and walks off, leaving me to find someone else to talk to. I have yet to see Selene yet, maybe she's sick. Or even better, dead! I smile at the prospect, only to have my dreams shattered when her ear-splitting voice interrupts my thoughts.
"Hello, Y/N." She says as she steps in front of me.
"Hi Selene."
"How was your trip?" I slightly raise my eyesbrows at her. This conversation is going a little too smoothly.
"Oh, uh, it was nice. Didn't get attacked by a werewolf."
"That's nice." She nods. Did someone put something in her drink?
"And how have things been around the palace?"
"Boring." She rolls her eyes, taking a long sip.
"Why are you being so...civil?" Just ask I ask this Edmund steps up next to me and hands me my drink, eying Selene.
"Eddie!" There it is.
"H-hi, Selene." He presses his lips into a thin smile.
"I'm so glad you're here, Eddie. You've just saved me from the most boring conversation of my life." She laughs loudly and places a hand on Edmund's shoulder. He dips his shoulder down and her hand falls back to her side. My chest heats up with that same unbridled rage from earlier. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
"Selene. We talked about this..." He frowns at her.
"I know, I know, it's just been so long since I've seen you—"
"It has literally been two days." I cut her off before her antics can go any farther. I down my drink quickly and grab Edmund by the forearm, leading him out to the dance floor. My hands shake from the aftermath of my strange new feelings.
"Hey—what are you doing? I was talking to her."
"It's a ball. We need to dance."
"You want to dance? Did I hear that right?"
"No. I said We need to dance." We step out into the swarm of dancers and I place my hands on his shoulders, him hesitantly hovering his hands over my waist. "What are you doing?"
"I'm trying not to touch your werewolf scratches." He says, eyebrows furrowed in focus. He settles for a place on my lower back, a few inches below the healing wounds, "Is that good?"
"Yes." I blush, startled by his kindness though I shouldn't be. He's saved me what? Two times now? Three if you count the day of Caspian and I'd fight. Edmund is...very kind, actually.
"You seem upset," He says as we begin to dance.
"I'm not." I respond flatly.
"You sure?"
"Yes. Now stop asking."
"It's just Selene making you mad, right?"
"Yes. I hate her. We know this. Drop it." I don't know why I'm so defensive over this newfound anger that I have.
"Right, yeah. It's just...usually you would resort to glass-throwing or hair-pulling. But tonight...you just asked me to dance." He smirks.
"Oh, so now you're upset that I didn't try to physically harm you? Got it. I'll remember next time."
"No, Y/N. I'm just thinking..." We dance the rest of he dance in silence, giving me time to think. I try to get some brooding and scowling thrown in too, but I can barely even form a full productive thought. His hands are awfully low, aren't they? I mean, I know it's just because he was trying to avoid my wounds but—
Wait, why do I care so much about where Edmund's hands are? I don't. I just don't want them to be on Selene. Because I hate her. That's all. That's it.
"You okay, Y/N? You look...very angry about something."
I look up at him, "Nothing." And then the dance ends, and something like realization overcomes Edmund's face.
"Wait," He laughs and smirks, "You're not...jealous, are you?"
"No—jealous? Edmund—are you hearing yourself right now?" I stutter, feeling strangely embarrassed. Like I've been caught in the act. But I'm not jealous...I'm not.
"Yes, I am. And I am making perfect sense. As usual."
"Edmund, I promise you that I am not jealous." I say. But I realize that I sound like I'm pleasing with him, not exactly convincing for my case.
He raises his eyebrows at me and bites back a smile, "Whatever you say, Y/N. Whatever you say."
"I-I'm going to find someone else to dance with. Bye." I quickly walk off and cringe, bye? Why did I even say that? I'm so stupid. And why does he think I'm jealous? I'm...not.
"Y/N? Want to dance?" Peter approaches me, holding his arm out.
"Yes, yes of course." Anything to distract myself.
We step onto the dance floor and I place my hands on his shoulders. I see Edmund over his shoulder, pretending like he isn't staring daggers into Peter's back. If anyone's jealous, it's him. Peter says something I don't hear, too focused on Edmund's face as he watched us. I cringe in pain when he places his hands on my back, right where my wounds are. Edmund notices this and smirks at me before walking away, probably to find Selene.
It's then that I admit something to myself very reluctantly, because things are easier if you just accept them to be true.
I am jealous. And I want Edmund to be, too.