The forest was a natural place, of wonderment, and of hope. There was so much beauty; and so much contrast to the harshness brought around by Telmar. When they had taken over, there was nowhere else to flee for the Narnian's but the woods. Most of them had been murdered, but the few who survived, if they really did, would have hidden there.
The Prince remembered that. His Professor had told him when he was younger about the conflict between the two peoples. He wished that he had listened a little more to their tales. It would have given him more to think about.
There must have been a great noise as soon as he landed, because he gained the attention of those he never thought could have existed. Out of a tree trunk, a door opened, and for a moment, he thought it was going to be a shortage of elves, or a finagle of fairies- but he was wrong. Instead, it was two dwarves, both very grumpy looking.
The Prince had never seen dwarves before in his life, although, he supposed they all couldn't look like they were partaking in a midlife crisis. One was a redhead with a poorly receding hairline and Neanderthal-like forehead. The other was a stocky man, with long greying hair and a beard to match.
He never should have looked. He realised it now. Looking only made everything worse.
"He's seen us." The grey haired dwarf complained as they ran towards the boy. They didn't know who he was. And he didn't know who they were.
Sensing that he was in danger, the Prince looked around, trying his best to find something that would make him more powerful. He didn't want to have to face them alone, but he would have to. His sword was lying only a little way away, so he scrambled to reach it before the dwarves came for him.
The redheaded dwarf had already drawn his blade, and if it came to it, then the Prince would be dead in moments. However, before anything else could be made of it, the familiar sounds of horses whinnies echoed throughout the woods. The Telmarines had found him, and they would not leave him.
"Take care of him." The redhead grunted.
He gave no warning for his friend, before racing off to the Telmarine's. It didn't make sense because it was practically a sacrifice. Why would someone ever give themselves up for nothing?
Under the strict instructions to 'take care' of the Prince, the grey haired dwarf charged for him. He didn't have the sword like he had planned, as something else caught his eye. Something the Professor had made the effort to teach him about.
He knew the legends. He knew about the Kings and Queens of old. He knew about the Golden Age. He knew about the Prophecies. He knew about the Last Spirit.
He reached for the ivory horn, and hoped that it was, indeed, real. It was the only chance the Prince had.
"No!" The dwarf cried out, but it was too late.
There was only one more moment the Prince could remember, which was the pure disgust on the face of the grey-haired dwarf. And then, it was black.
Finchley, London, England.
The Pevensie's had been home for little over a year, and not very much had changed at all. School was a bore, the war was ongoing and never ending, and Edmund felt lost.
His siblings had been adjusting much better than him. They all seemed to have found things to interest them, things that kept their minds busy during air raids and the like. Still, all that could entertain Edmund was Shakespeare.
It embarrassed him, greatly, and he hated being one of the only people in his class to enjoy the subject. He couldn't read it at home either. Peter shared a room with him, and he didn't want to risk being caught. Perhaps he could have passed it off as school work, which for the most part it was, but it was still something he enjoyed.
Though, the beating he received, within a month or so of his return to Finchley, had swarmed through school gossip. They all thought he was a poof, and a fag, so wanted to battle him in every way possible.
Naturally, Edmund wasn't going to let them dominate him, and fought back. Since then, there hadn't been a period longer than a week when he wasn't scrapping a boy his age or older. That way, he proved their theories wrong. He wasn't a fag. Not by his standards, and soon enough, not by anyone else's.
The fighting caused this sort of emotional release he craved. A feeling lost since Narnia. And Narnia was always on his mind.
Leaving school for the day, both Hendon House and St Finbar's had the same schedule, so would arrive at the Underground Station at the same time. It was good for the Pevensie's as they would be able to all arrive home at once. It was good for their mother too, knowing they would all be together. Although on days like this one, it often caused conflict.
In the station, there were shouts for fights, that could be heard from the surface entrance. It was angry, and brutal, and bloodthirsty, even before the fight itself was detected.
At the bottom of the main staircase, right beside the edge of the platform, four boys were testing the limits of their testosterone. Peter Pevensie and his shock of blonde hair was distinguishable from the rabble-like trio. He was a skilled close-combat fighter, however, against three boys on his own, there wasn't much he could do to protect himself. In short, he was getting the absolute shit kicked out of him.
It wasn't a pretty sight, and frankly, the amount of spit landing everywhere wasn't pleasant either. Peter's eyes were growing dark when his muscles began to ache. He still thought like a King making rash decisions in battles. Sometimes, he forgot that things were different here.
At first, Edmund had ignored the fight, and thought nothing of it. When he neared the stairs, he saw his older brother and became more intrigued. However, it wasn't until he saw the boys that Peter was fighting that any real emotion stirred in the black-haired boy at all.
Freddie Langer. Colin Jones. Matthew Williams.
Bloody hell.
If it was anyone else, he might and just have watched. Because if it was anyone else, he supposed Peter would have a chance of beating them. But those three combined were dangerous, and Edmund knew that if Aramis ever found out he stood idle, there would be more than just a bloody hell to pay.
Knowing this, he pushed himself down the stairs to get involved in the scrap. Throwing his cap and satchel to the side to make it easier on himself, Edmund would be damned if he let Peter get the best of those boys without him.
"Edmund!" He could hear his sister, he was almost completely sure it was Lucy, call for him.
He didn't pay attention because to be distracted was a weakness. Instead, he rugby-tackled Matthew, pushing him straight against the tiled wall with a great thud.
For whatever short time he was involved in the fight, Edmund actually seemed to do fairly well. No, he wasn't the post powerful, or the most agile, but his untold experience glided through him. It was enough to make any number of grown men cower to their knees. But the entire thing was cut short by the home guard, racing as fast as their old and tired legs would take them.
Whistles blew feverishly, and they shouted angrily. They must have been waiting so anxiously to be wanted somewhere. Not that they were wanted in this instance, but rather needed. Things could have easily gone too far.
"Break it up!"
Edmund wasn't planning on stopping, but when a pair of hands grabbed onto his shoulders (the home guard) and he looked upwards, there was a pang of guilt in his chest. There was Thomas, looking him dead in the eyes. It was awful. Edmund was thoroughly embarrassed. He looked back down, and closed his eyes.
"That's enough. Come on."
Their words did little as both Pevensie boys had to be physically pulled from the other boys. Neither of them were sort of people to give up easily.
Peter especially was hard to let go, and was forcefully pushed in the opposite direction. "Act your age!"
Age was something that crossed Edmund's mind so frequently it might have merged into an obsession. He was sixteen, but felt older, and mentally, he was. Adding to that stress, he also felt that the war had slashed what little childhood he might have already had. Everything felt slightly wrong, and slightly out of place. All he wanted was for everything to feel normal again.
Edmund was fairly sure that nothing would ever be normal, not ever.
He was fed up. Leaning against the wall, watching as his brother paced, and sisters seemed so nonchalant, Edmund realised just how fed up he was. Exasperated, he pulled the cap over his head, and dropped his case to the ground. The box tied with string to the handles rattled around; the emergency rations that the school had requested in case of a bombing, didn't seem to get the memo to be quiet.
"You're welcome." Edmund huffed as he slid around the wall and onto the bench.
Peter only sent a threatening look his way, and shot back. "I had it sorted."
"What was it this time?" Susan groaned: she didn't really want to know.
"He bumped me." The small action was enough to install such rage in Peter. It was frightening.
Lucy looked up with wide eyes. "So you hit him?"
"No." He scoffed, like he expected them to know already, despite not being there at the time. "After he bumped me, they tried to make me apologise. That's when I hit him."
"Really?" The eldest girl couldn't understand him in the slightest. "Is it that hard just to walk away."
In no way defending Peter, but rather his own ego, Edmund mumbled to himself. "They are pricks."
"I shouldn't have to!" The blonde practically hissed. "I mean, don't you ever get tired of being treated like a kid?"
"Um, we are kids." Edmund informed, relishing in the moment he was able to correct Peter.
Of course, he already had a counter argument. "Well, I wasn't always."
The other three siblings all shared a look. Sometimes, Peter could become so self absorbed that he missed out the bigger picture. By the time they accidentally left Narnia, all of them had been adults. Of course, all Peter would remember was himself, and the things that concerned him.
"It's been a year." The blonde sat down, and rubbed his face with his hands. "How long does he expect us to wait?"
"I think it's time to accept that we live here." Susan insisted. She had been telling them that for months. Her hope had dwindled fairly quickly, whereas the others were still holding out. "It's no use pretending any different."
The rumbling of the tracks grew louder. The train would be there soon, and then they could go home. Thankfully, then, Edmund wouldn't have to talk to anyone for the rest of the night and he could just read and relax. Although, after seeing the disappointed look from Thomas, he wasn't sure he could enjoy his Shakespeare that night.
Tomorrow, he'd bring it up, and he'd apologise. Edmund knew he couldn't afford to lose the only friend he had; if he could class each other as friends rather than acquaintances. Thomas was kinder than anyone else, and Edmund didn't want to embarrass him.
Before he knew it, Susan was acting oddly, more so than usual. She had seen a boy from Hendon House, not that either of her brothers knew who he was, and she wanted to avoid him. There was panic set in her eyes, and suddenly, she really didn't want to be there anymore.
"Oh no!" She groaned, and turned to Lucy, practically begging her. "Pretend you're talking to me."
Edmund hadn't caught onto her subtle hints, and said everything as if it were simple. "We are talking to you." To that, Susan just scoffed, and dismissed him.
"Ow!" Lucy jumped to her feet, startled by the swift pain in her leg.
Her sister soothed. "Quiet, Lu." She was slightly worried about drawing too much attention in public. It was another thing they didn't need.
She wouldn't let it go, and didn't want to either. "Something pinched me!"
"Hey!" Peter reacted to a similar sort of pulling. "Stop pulling!"
"I'm not touching you!" Edmund gritted his teeth and spat back. Peter was always the first to accuse him. It pissed him off.
"Look, would all of you just..." Susan's usual calmness and composure was washed away. "What is that?"
Lucy grinned, more to herself than anyone else. "It feels like magic."
"Quick, everyone." The elder sister ordered them, so that no one would be left behind. "Hold hands."
Whilst everyone else seemed to be alright with holding each others hand, there was something nagging in the back of Edmund's mind, telling him otherwise. "I'm not holding your hand." He hissed at Peter.
"Just-" His brother grabbed onto him, and made sure that he couldn't have let go.
If it was what they hoped was happening, then things wouldn't take much longer. They would be home soon.
The Underground Station started to fall apart as the train ran past them at a million miles and hour. The tiles were dragged from the walls, cracked, like concrete. They floated through the air, looking as if they were as light as paper, but so obviously not. Debris just seemed to follow through the tunnel, and after the train itself. Even that didn't seem real.
It happened for a minute, maybe. The whizzing of air, and junk in it. And then, it stopped, and the entire Underground Station had disappeared.
Blue, and clouds.
A beach.
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2410
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Disclaimer!!!!
I do not own these characters. I do not own the Narnia series. I do not own the actors, or the characters. The only thing I own is my adaptation of the story, and my original character.