After the frosty silence in the gardens,
After the agony in stony places-
The shouting and the crying
-
(trigger warning: self-harm)
-

"Could you put the stuffed animal away?"
Edmund had absolutely nothing against stuffed animals. But Sanya had not looked up from the puppy plushie even once since he'd walked into her room.

"His name is Milkshake." Sanya said very primly, still not looking Edmund in the eye. She was afraid of what she would see if she did. "I couldn't decide between Vanilla or Milkshake, but then I thought that Milkshake sounds more adorable as a dog name, don't you think? Which is why-"

"Have you named all your plushies?"
She had a lot of them. It had unnerved him whenever they had sex here- and when he'd finally told Sanya about it, she had rolled her eyes and carefully stuffed them inside her wardrobe.
Then she'd taken off her dress and pushed him down on the bed.

She looked next to herself, and frowned.
"More or less." The cheetah was Minnie- and the twin teddy bears were Twittle and Tattle- the yellow giraffe was Bunu- the little lion was Leo, which she knew was very uncreative, but it just fit him very well! "Except for the dolphin, the pink teddy bear, and the other dog one. I don't care much for the pink teddy- and it's really difficult to name dogs. As for the dolphin, I keep calling it Dolphy, and I know that's stupid-"

"That's what Jem called his dolphin plushie."

"Oh-" Sanya finally looked up to see Edmund staring at her from his seat at her desk, his lips turned down, "I completely forgot."
It felt like a punch to the gut. She'd forgotten about her little baby boy?

"Your memory isn't exactly the best." He said, smiling a little. "What happened to Dolphy?"

"He lost it. I don't remember when exactly- but he did. Jemmy was too old to care about a plushie- so he said-" She added, because one could never be too old for plush toys, "but he turned grey for an entire week."

"That is bad. What did you do?"

"Told everyone he had pox, and kept him in my chambers." She shrugged. What else could she have done? Tell everyone that he was the biological son of the Faerie Queen? "He only stopped being grey after Selene threw a tantrum about- Heavens, I don't even remember. But he tried to calm her down, and in doing so, he calmed down as well."

He smiled sadly, "He was a good big brother."

She nodded, the corners of her lips lifting up, "He learnt that from you."

Edmund would have loved to hear more stories about his children- learning about them was as bittersweet as was humanly possible- but the longer he put off what he'd come here to do, the more likely it was that he would never do it.
"We need to talk."

Oh, for the- she should have told the maid to tell Edmund she'd gone to India, or something.
"I told you, it was an accident with the sciss-"
What would it take for him to believe her lie?

"About America." He ended, cutting off her lie.
She was so insistent on it- but he knew her. He knew her, even if she forgot that, and he almost always knew when she was lying.
"You know, what my parents told you day before."

"I'm not going to go." She said immediately. How could she leave him? "Can you tell them for me?"

"Really?" Honestly, he'd not been sure of what he'd thought her answer would be. "Why not?"

"I'm just not. Wait, I remember what Selene was throwing a tantrum over-" Sanya couldn't remember when it was, though- had Sel been six? Or eight? Seraphina had been a toddler at that time, most likely in her terrible twos- so it was probably the former? "it was because her nurse had tried to put on her shoes, but Sel wanted to wear them on her own, but she couldn't tie the shoelaces properly, so the nurse did them for her, and she was immediately incensed-"

"What'd she do to the nurse?" Edmund asked, fearing the fate of the poor nurse- he'd only known Selene for four years, but their daughter was an absolute spitfire.

"She took off her shoes, climbed on a chair, and threw them at the nurse's face."

"And the nurse couldn't dodge?"

Sanya shrugged again, getting up to shut the door- there was some problem with the hinge, or something, and it kept opening an inch or two.
"Not everyone has battle reflexes. And I highly doubt she was expecting a small child to hurl shoes at her."

He snorted, "Clearly she didn't know Sel very well."

"No, I think she was new, and she resigned the next day." She shook her head suddenly, laughing as she turned back to her bed. "I don't know how I'd have raised the children, if I hadn't had help. And even with help, I was far from a good mother."

He was already shaking his head- her self-deprecation left even his in the dust.
"I highly doubt that."

"I'm telling you the truth." She said quietly- and she really was. "I was not a good mother- I would've been better, if you were there. I was always better, when you were there."
Loving him- being with him- it made her better.

It was as though she knew what was going on in his mind- some of which he'd told Peter- and what he was steadying himself to do. He wouldn't be surprised if she did- she knew him as well as he knew himself, if not even better.
"Do you want to go?"

She looked at him, brows creasing- she'd forgotten what they'd been speaking about just a few moments ago.
"What?"

"With my parents," Edmund said, feeling anxiety take root in his throat, "to America?"

Her answer was spoken immediately once again, but it was not at all as firm.
"N-no."
She'd told him one truth, and now she didn't feel like lying anymore. She never, ever wanted to lie to him, even though she kept doing it. But she didn't know if this was a lie! She didn't know how she felt about anything- she only knew that she loved Edmund so, so much, and she couldn't leave him, and that parting from him would be more painful than even her metamorphosis.

"Please don't lie to me." How many times would he have to ask this of her? He'd go blue in the face, pleading for the truth from the True.

She settled back on the bed again, "I'm not lying-"

He cut her off, "I still remember what you said, so long ago-" it had been after her coronation as High Queen, hadn't it? "when you told me about your aunt and how she travelled the world. You said you wanted to be just like her."
Not to mention- what she had said about Sinbad being her favourite story out of all of them, and her reasons for it.

"Ed-"

"Am I wrong?"

"I- no." She said, feeling panic thrum along her skin. Panic for what? Or was it the same paranoia? "You're not. I have always wanted to travel."

She'd even told Caspian that- and she had asked him to travel for her, because she'd never been able to, and she had been sure she would never be able to.

"But I don't know that I want to go to America. I want to be with you."

"I don't know if you'll get another chance to travel-" Edmund started, turning his gaze to the floor, "if you marry me, you certainly won't. I'll be too poor to take you anywhere, and who knows if your grandmother will leave you any money."

If you marry me.
If?
That was not an 'if'.
And Maude would leave her money- and even if she didn't, she was to have access to the Rainsford fortune at eighteen- but she couldn't blame Edmund for being sceptical. Who knew what could happen between now and her eighteenth birthday?
But she didn't care to say that, or respond to his worries about being poor. She didn't care that he would be poor, or that he wouldn't be able to take her anywhere. She hadn't cared about leaving her world to come to this one with him- and he thought his financial status would deter her?
"I don't want to leave you."

"Perhaps a break wouldn't be the worst thing."

Oh, that was what the panic was for.
She felt something cold sink down from her heart. Maybe he didn't mean it like that- perhaps he just- maybe he meant- that- something else.
He must have meant something else.
"What?" The word was barely a whisper- and for the first time that day, she couldn't take her eyes away from him. "Ed, what do you mean?"

His voice was even quieter- he had to physically hold himself back from saying he didn't mean what he'd just said and going over to hold her tight in his arms.
"You know what I mean."

She was shaking her head before he'd even finished speaking- she didn't understand, or perhaps she didn't want to, because understanding would mean realising, and realising meant pain, and hadn't she had enough pain?
"No- no, darling, I don't."

"Are you happy, Sanya?"

Every single time that he called her Sanya instead of Moonshine, a little part of her died.

"What's that got to do with-"

"Love is supposed to make you happy. I want to make you happy- I want to make you feel like you're alright." He said, getting up and starting to pace. "But I can't, and you deserve better than that. We're both miserable, and so quiet all the time- and- you lie to me. You lie about everything-"

"Not-" the cold inside her turned clammy, and she felt sick, "not everything-"

"So those cuts on your wrist aren't because you tried to-" he would be as candid as a conversation with the True Queen deserved, "kill yourself?"

"Is that what this is about?" She asked, eyes wide as she stood up, too.
Was he- did he want a break because he'd finally realised how weak and cowardly she was? Because he'd realised how much better he deserved? Was that the true reason?
"I was sad, and I cut myself! I don't know if it was intentional- I just wasn't thinking straight- and I had a really bad headache-"

"We need to be away from each other." He said, interrupting her ramble. "We need a breather from each other, my darling. We've been too close for the past two years- and it's killing us."
He swallowed.
"It's killing me."

"Love isn't supposed to kill." But it still did, didn't it? "I didn't mean to hurt you, husband-"

"And I didn't mean to hurt you." He said- and then he paused for a moment, almost waiting for a rebuttal that he hadn't hurt her. But she said nothing, and he went on, feeling his heart break, "Sanya- I can't do this anymore, my love."

She felt tears start to her eyes- and she didn't even try to fight them.
"What do you want from me?"
It was unfair, what he was doing- talking about leaving her, walking away, when he was all she had- it was injustice, especially coming from the Just.
"I can't- I don't want to be without you, Edmund, please don't- I love you so much, please-"
Not again, never again, he'd said!

"I am always going to be there for you." He promised, kneeling in front of her. His lips trembled, and he took her hands in his, "I swear. And I love you, I forever will. But I can't- I can't be in a relationship with you, just for some time. I need a break."

He wanted to say that they'd be friends.

But he couldn't, the words stuck in his throat. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't say those few simple words.
Had they ever been friends- just friends? Just friends did not feel flustered and go all red the very first time they met. Just friends didn't have sex with each other. Just friends did not raise children together. Just friends did not run away on dangerous missions after being rejected. Just friends did not hug each other tight and breathe in their presence for several long moments after returning from said mission.
Granted, he'd never really had friends- barring his dear horse, Philip- but he was sure friends did not do any of that.

They were in love with each other.

They'd been intertwined in each other's life for so long, in a far from platonic manner. Could they really ever be just friends?

I need a break. I need a break. I need a break.
"You're breaking up with me."
She felt hollow again.
Where was the rage she always felt? She preferred the rage. It was so much better than this quick, thick, dark ache in her chest, where her heart was. Better than the tears.
"You are leaving me."
That grave in that dream- she longed for it now. She needed to be in it- she wanted to be dead, or dying, or in purgatory, whatever that meant. Rhiannon's hands snaking across her skin, making her feel repulsion and attraction at the same time- the rough sheet of soil- the promise of everything fading away- she wanted it all. It was better than this.

"No, that's not-" He shook his head quickly, "it's temporary, this break."
He had every faith that they would be together again- together in a way that did not make them angry and hurtful and quiet- and together because how could they not be?
"I'm not leaving you-"
He could never. He would never.

"Why!?"

"I just told you!" He looked annoyed, which was a sight to see, because there were tears in his eyes. "We're both so miserable, and- and love- love just isn't always enough-"

"Love kept me alive for a thousand years." Sanya cut him off harshly. She wanted to take her hands away from him- but what if she never got to hold him again? "Don't say it's not enough."

Edmund took a deep breath, "We can't let each other go. We're practically incapable of breathing without each other."
He hurt more, as he kept on hurting her- he could see it in her eyes, on her half-disbelieving and half-despairing face.
He wished they'd never come here- that he'd never gone to Aslan's assembly. They should have stayed in bed.
"And that's not right. For both of our sakes- for our love-" to make sure it didn't die in a fit of bitterness and lies and pained silence, to make sure it still stayed sacred and true, "we have to let go. One of us has to walk away, for a while."

"I-" She squeezed her eyes shut. "I've hated myself so much- even more than before, because you're everything to me, and I can't make you happy anymore. And I've been so scared for- for ages- th-that you don't love me anymore."
She let out a breath- it might have been a sob.
"Of all the times to be proved right-"

"I do love you!" He gasped- she couldn't possibly think he didn't!
He wanted this temporary break now so that they didn't break apart forever in the future! If they mended themselves during this break- if they felt better about themselves- then they would be better, happier together.
They'd have forever together, as they ought to.
"There will never come a day I don't- I forever will love you-" he had just said that, but clearly he needed to repeat himself, "Moonshine-"

"Don't call me that!" She growled, wrenching her hands away from his. Rage had returned- it had come to retrieve her from the hollow pit of pain, and towards the blinding heat of anger. "Get out."

He was taken aback- she was the one with the worse hearing, but had he heard wrong?
"Moons-"

"Out!" She grabbed at the necklace around her neck with her good hand, and undid the clasp- she wanted to break it, to tear it off her neck, but she needed both hands for that, and the other one wasn't exactly at its best.

She threw it at Edmund, who caught it, surprised as he was. Had she been wearing her wedding ring, she would've thrown that at him, too.

Later, when she allowed herself to think it, she'd think that she was glad that she hadn't worn her wedding ring.

"Get out." She said again. She willed her voice to not break while he was still here. "I don't want to see you ever again."
That was a lie.

Edmund looked stricken, the necklace held tight in his hands.
"I-"

"That's what you want." I need a break. "I'm just giving that to you."
She stood up and stomped to the door, wrenching it open violently. Part of her wanted to lock it and beg him to stay- because she didn't want to let him go, even now, she always wanted to be with him- but she was so angry. She was so hurt.
"Go. Leave. Perhaps you'll find another White Stag out there."

No more White Stags for us.

So much for that.

"Fine." He wasn't going to beg and plead anymore. He was done with always being the level-headed diplomat!
He stalked over to the door, "I'm doing this for us- us together, and you and I individually- but if you're going to keep being wild and volatile-"

"You like that in bed!" She snarled- which she supposed proved his 'wild' point, and perhaps the 'volatile' part, too, but she was too infuriated to care- and kicked the door closed in his scowling face.

She stared at the closed door for a moment, her heart beating dangerously high. She breathed hard, tears still streaming down her face. That cold, clammy feeling had settled into a truce with the hot, viscous rage.

Not quite knowing what she was doing, she pulled her fisted hand back- the one she had unclasped the necklace with- and drove it into the wall next to the door.

And then again, and again, and again, and again, until her skin started to tear, red and raw, and her cream-hued walls were sprinkled with blood.

Her hand wasn't broken yet- just bleeding. But her heart was both.
And then Sanya sank to the floor again, starting to weep. Why did she always end up on the floor, when crying about Edmund?
She still felt the anger- she doubted there would ever come a day that she didn't- but the sadness, the pain, the heartbreak was so much greater.

And on the other side of the door, Edmund was down on the floor, too, holding his head tight in his hands as he cried and cried- he regretted everything and wanted nothing more than to rush inside and kiss her and never let her go.
But he didn't, staying put, and letting his heart break even more.

They'd just walked away from the loves of their lives. They'd left their true love on the other side of the door.
Was it a temporary loss? Or- despite what Edmund said and Sanya hoped- would it be forever?
--

"Grandmother?"

Maude almost jumped out of her skin upon hearing the voice.
"By the love of- Sanya!" She said crossly, her hand on her heart and the magazine she had been reading on the floor as she looked at her granddaughter. "As heavy as you are, you can move like a burglar sometimes."

"So I have a future in burglary? Good to know." She did not care about the 'heavy' comment- she had made her peace with that, and besides, she was less than three-quarters of the size she had been. Most likely, at least. Maths was not her best subject. "Are you busy?"

The old lady shook her head, before nodding to the floor, "I was just reading the exploits of Hollywood."

Sanya picked up the magazine and handed it to her, before asking, "What's Hollywood?"

"It's where films are made, over in America." She waved her arm, as though the United States of America was in the corner of the living room. "Before I ask you what you want- you do want something, it's obvious-"

"I do." Sanya confirmed, though it was needless, because she knew there was no point in talking once Maude started speaking.

She looked at her bandaged hands- the stupid girl had accidentally driven a pen into her palm while writing, and stuck the other into the toaster! The limits of clumsiness were tested everyday by her.
"Are your hands still not healed?"

"No."

She hmph'ed, "They will, soon. I was going to tell you to make more use of the car. It's a very good car, I've been assured, and both it and the driver just sit there idle!"

She felt compelled to point out, "But you go out all the time."

Again, she was ignored.
"Why don't you go out somewhere? Anywhere? Do you not have any friends to visit nearby?"

Oh, please. She barely had friends at all.

"Stop looking so petulant. I'm not forcing you out of the house." The old lady rolled her eyes. "We'll speak of this later. What is it that you want, child?"

"Um." She said, and stared at the piano for a few seconds, before sitting down next to her. She'd been thinking about this all of last evening and night, and then how to approach her 'grandmother' about it all day. "Do you have any plans this year?"

Maude squinted at her, "Plans to what? Take you to a hairdresser? Do you wash your hair in grease, my girl?"

"No- that's just how it becomes if I go more than two days without washing my hair." Sanya would not be rude. She would not get angry. She would not make insolent comments. She'd try to be calm. "I mean, plans to travel. You know, like your holiday to France the Christmas before last."

"It was a medical retreat, as you well know." She shook her head at her. "I'm the old woman, yet your memory is the faulty one."

"Yes, yes, it's really shitty, I know. But do you have any plans to travel this year?"
If it wasn't clear- though she had been thinking about it for a day, she'd not really come up with a solution.

"Don't swear!" She rapped her on the top of her head with the magazine. "And why are you asking? What do you plan on doing to the house-"

"Nothing." She said quickly, rubbing her head. It wasn't as bad as a cut by a sword, but it still smarted. "It's just that- I have plans to travel."
If it wasn't for what had happened with Edmund- she would have felt giddy, saying it. Perhaps she'd grow into feeling some semblance of joy. For now, though, all she could feel was bleak cold, and all she could think of was ebbing darkness.

"I do declare, you get more and more harder to understand as the days go by! Where are you planning on going, exactly?"

"America." She said meekly. "Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie invited me. So- um- I won't be able to use the car..."

Maude was quiet and still for so long Sanya thought she had died.
When she spoke again, she was clearly trying her best to keep a lid on her temper.
"I've been supportive enough of your relationship with that boy- but to let you go cavorting off to another count-"

"That boy's not coming." Sanya interrupted. "It's just Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie, and Susan. The elder daughter."

"The pretty one?"

"Both the daughters are pretty-"

Maude amended her statement, "The prettier one?"

"The one with the brighter eyes." Was all Sanya would say.
Imagine comparing sisters on the basis of beauty, or anything else!
"Just them. Mr. Pevensie's going to lecture somewhere there- that's why-"

"Why is that boy not going?"

"Oh, well, they could only take two kids." She explained- Helen had explained it all on the telephone earlier, while her 'grandmother' had been in the bath, when she had called her to say that she accepted the invitation.
Sanya hadn't wanted to call- she didn't like speaking on the telephone- but it was better than going to their house and risking running into Edmund.
"It's a long story." It wasn't, really, but she didn't feel like explaining. "Can I go?"

"You don't seem affected at all that that boy can't go with you." Maude said, looking rather suspicious. "Why is that?"

"We broke up."
It was the first time she'd said it, and she felt that same hollow pain wrap itself around her heart and throat and stomach. They were broken up. Sanya and Edmund weren't together anymore. Edmund didn't love-
No, she couldn't think that. Even if it was the truth, she couldn't bear to even think it.

"What?" She stared at her in consternation, her blue eyes wide. "When?"

"Yesterday."

"Why?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business. It's my relationship."
So much for not being rude and not getting angry, and not making insolent comments.
But Sanya had more than enough reason to get worked up about being broken up with by the love of her life, the man she had given up everything and endured countless horrors for!

She had thought it would be easier to be composed and- well, to repress what she felt if she was in front of other people. It would be easier to ignore it, at least, to lose herself in matters of others, to push her feelings down and focus on her environment.

The problem was, she hated being in front of other people and she hated everyone.
She hated everyone except Edmund.
More or less.
Though he ought to be the one she hated the most. He'd left her again.

"Well, was."

"Hm." Maude said, her nostrils flaring slightly. She wasn't very pleased at being spoken to like that- but the girl was clearly hurting. Had she not advised her to not put so much faith in a youthful relationship, to not fall so damnably hard? Of course it led to heartbreak- it always did, it was inevitable.
She had the urge to wring that boy's neck- but she also pitied him. He had been as much in love as Sanya had been, it didn't take St. Valentine himself to see it. But he wasn't her charge- Sanya was. It was her feelings and her pain she cared about.
Perhaps a new country- some new air- new people- would do her some good. She might even meet someone new, someone who did not hurt her- she was only sixteen!
And the pretty Pevensie girl was also the sensible one, if she wasn't wrong- she'd keep her out of trouble.
"You can go."

She blinked, "What?"

"To America, you feather-brained child." She rolled her eyes. "I'll have to speak with George and Helen- those are their names, yes? But you may begin packing when it suits you. Ella will help, of course. When do you leave?"

"Nineteenth."

"That's soon." Just over two weeks. She would miss the impudent child- but she could just pretend she was away at school again. "By ship?"

"I think so." What else could it be? It wasn't as though they had gryphons to ride on here.
She missed gryphons. Another thing to add to the list of what she missed.
She should write it down, when her hands stopped hurting. She had a couple of blank notebooks in her room- maybe it was finally time for her to start keeping a diary again. She'd chronicle her time in America- it seemed likely that she would actually do things there, as opposed to sitting in her bedroom for as long as she could.
The thought was already exhausting.
"Thanks, Grandmother." She said- she was smiling, and it wasn't forced. She was glad to get out of this place. She most likely would dislike America, too- like she disliked everywhere in this world- but it'd be a change. And maybe the distance from Edmund would help her heartbreak. "Maybe you can go to the south of France again."

"No, it's not the same since it fell to the Germans." She sighed. This war was exhausting, truly. It truly was one after the other- she dreaded to think that there might be a third one happening, in another ten or twenty years. "I'd prefer somewhere colder, I think."

"Well, add that to the list of Hitler's crimes."
If she ever got her hands on that vile, disgusting, revolting- there wasn't a bad enough word- there would, finally, be an attempt on his life that would not be a failure. Sanya wasn't very sneaky, but she knew she could kill.
"What about Switzerland?" She'd seen postcards of it- Mina had shown them to her- and it was truly a very stunning place, snow-capped mountains and all. She preferred beaches by far, but she gave credit where it was deserved. "I think it's very cold there."

"We went there on our honeymoon, Henry and I." Maude reminisced, a little smile on her lips. "It was wonderful. There was this lovely little bistro-"

Sanya had absolutely no idea what a bistro was, but she did have a question.
"When was that?" Maybe if she knew that, she'd be able to figure out how old she was. She couldn't be older than eighty- could she? She didn't understand the problem some old folks had with others asking their age. When she had been old, she'd never minded younger people asking her what her age was.
After crossing forty, she'd usually forgotten what her exact age was, too. Perhaps Maude just didn't remember, and was too embarrassed to admit it.
Regardless, she went on, "More than sixty years ago?"

Maude threw the magazine at her, which made Sanya decide that it would be in her best interests to return to her haven, also known as her bedroom- and she promptly fled.
--

"You're going to America!?"

"Bonnie?" Sanya was very surprised at her friend's appearance in the doorway of her bedroom.
What? How? Well, the how was probably by train- but why?
"What are you doing here?"

Bonnie scowled at her, "You tell me in a letter that you're going to a whole new country for goodness knows how long?"

"That's not an answer to why-"

"Sanya!"

"Yes, I told you in a letter. What else was I supposed to do, go all the way to Manchester? It's a three-hour train ride." She'd checked that- well, Edmund had checked for her, because it had been rather confusing for her.
There was something called a 24-hour clock?

He'd always been so considerate- so sweet. Even when she'd not asked him to do something she couldn't- he did it because he knew.

"You know telephones exist." Bonnie deadpanned, as she crossed into the room and sat down on the window seat. "And why do you look so sad suddenly?"
She hadn't even known her two years, but she knew her enough to know that Sanya actually showing emotion on her face was quite the rarity.

"I don't like talking on the telephone. It gives me anxiety." Sanya replied, ignoring the rest of what her friend had said. "My turn. Why are you here?"

"Because you're leaving for another country in a week!" She almost shrieked. "Do you even have a passport? A visa?"

She blinked, "A what?"

"Oh, good Lord."

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain." Sanya said sharply- Bonnie stared at her in shock, and she burst into giggles. "I was not-so-gently guilted into going to church with the Pevensies the week of my birthday."

Bonnie stared at her for another moment, before laughing along.
"Gracious, I can imagine it was something right out of Punch Magazine."

Her friend shrugged, "I made Lucy laugh during the middle of the sermon, because I thought of something funny about one of the hymns. And then I told Peter that the bread and water thing was cannibalism, and I didn't realise that the priest could hear people in the first row very well. Oh, and I also almost broke the-"

"Please- stop-" Bonnie said- she was practically wheezing, she was laughing so hard.

"I think I'd make a fair comedian." Sanya said, giggling again at how red her cheeks were. She hadn't laughed since Edmund had broken up with her. "Ed broke up with me."

That sobered up Bonnie rather quickly.
"What?" She asked confusedly. "Did I hear right-"

"Yes. He broke up with me a few days ago." On the third of February, at about approximately four in the afternoon. "I- I know I didn't write it in the letters- to you, and to Mina-" who was in Portugal with her family, because her maternal grandparents, who lived there, though they originally hailed from Spain, were ill, "sorry about that."

"Why'd the bastard break up with you?"

It was Sanya's turn to stare in shock at Bonnie. The girl almost never cursed-
"B-bastard?" She stammered. "But you always liked Edmund!"

"Yes, I did, before I found out he broke up with my b- with my friend!"

Sanya was touched.
"That's- that's really sweet, Bon." She smiled softly. "Mates before dates, huh."

Bonnie nodded firmly, before asking, "Did you just come up with that?"

"No, Clarke Jaffray told me it. He's one of Ed's dorm-mates, and sort of a good acquaintance of mine, I guess." Sanya answered- oh, there was a letter from him, she had to reply to it soon... "I don't know if that's his original creation or not."

"Regardless, it's clever. Anyway, tell me." She said, returning to business. She wouldn't harm Edmund physically, of course- but it seemed that the boy deserved the scolding of a lifetime. "Why the break-up?"

"It's complicated."

There was a strange little smile on Bonnie's face, "I can handle complicated."

"Honestly-" Sanya got up, and went to sit next to her, "it's complicated in a way I don't fully understand. I don't think he does, either."
She inhaled deeply. She wondered if Lucy, Peter, and Susan knew about the break-up- she hadn't seen them in a few days- and if yes, what reason Edmund had given for it.
"We were too quiet, Ed and I. And we were becoming bad for each other. I think he meant it to be temporary and I think he broke up with me to protect both of our hearts-" She laughed again, far more bitter than light-hearted, "but it still hurts so fucking much."

"I can imagine." She said, though she couldn't, really. She'd never been in even the vicinity of being in a relationship. "Do you want to talk more about that?"

Here, she had a definite, uncomplicated answer, "Not at all."

"Then we shan't talk about it." Bonnie said resolutely. She looked around the room- she'd never been here, like Sanya had never been to hers. "Oh- there's my painting!"

"Yeah!" Sanya nodded, grinning as both girls looked to the opposite wall. "I call it Sunsets and Sprouts."

"As annoyed as I am that someone else named my painting, that's much better than what I thought of."

"What was yours?

"Produce Ponder." Bonnie mumbled, making a face at herself. "I know it's awful-"

"Not too bad." She said fairly, thinking. "It's alliterative, which is an automatic point in its favour-"

"Hey, is that a diary?" The other girl asked suddenly, her eyes fixed on the top of Sanya's bed. "I didn't know you had a diary."

"I didn't for a long time." Thirteen hundred years, give or take thirty years. She got up and grabbed the diary, "I just picked it up again- today, in fact. Literally five minutes before you came in."

"Explains the ink on your face." She said, and pointed to her cheeks. "Your face is more blue than brown."

"I have a strange effect on ink. Gets everywhere." She shrugged, before dropping the diary in her friend's lap. "Here- read, it's fine."

But Bonnie did not open the diary immediately.
"But your hands-"

"I can write with them." She said- her bandages weren't as thick anymore, anyway, since the bleeding had long since clotted. The main reason she kept them on was to keep alive the illusion that she had not tried to kill and mutilate herself. She didn't want to see more scars. "Well, right hand, I mean. I don't write with the left."

She still looked doubtful, "Your handwriting will be illegible, won't it?"

She rolled her eyes, "Just read it."

Bonnie sighed, and did what she was told.
"'Dear Diary'," She read, and then laughed at the rest. "'Dear Diary, my name is Sanya, and I hate everything'." She laughed some more. "Off to a very positive start, hm?"

"Yes." Sanya had just been about to say 'and after this, I'll write about how I tried to kill myself'- but, she didn't. She didn't want a lecture or scolding or pity- she just wanted to laugh. The few days she had left in England, the few days she needed to stomach this place- she wanted to forget.
Oh, how she wished Mina wasn't in Portugal. She could've brought drugs and gossip.
"How long are you here for?"

Bonnie looked up from the untidy scrawls, her face contorted in deep thought. "Er- I believe there's a train for Manchester around five-thirty."

She looked at the clock- fifteen minutes to five! It was practically time for her to leave.
Sanya did not want Bonnie to leave.
"What if you stayed?" She suggested, quite impulsively. "For the night- we could- I don't know, have a home version of a midnight picnic?"

Bonnie was surprised, but despite her surprise, she had to laugh at Sanya's blatant unawareness of what she was proposing.
"I would love to." She said genuinely- there were doubts in her, worries that she was sure would never go away- but it was fine. Sanya wouldn't hate her, and they'd have fun. "But I think you mean a sleepover?"

"Yes." She nodded quickly- 'midnight picnic', how stupid! "I've never had one."

"Neither have I." She'd call her parents- she was rather sure the Rainsford house had a telephone- and they'd be fine with it, though she was woefully unprepared to stay the night. She didn't even have a toothbrush with her! "Unless you count my brother sleeping in my room because his was being fumigated."

"Not even with friends at your old school?" She had never asked about Bonnie's old school- she saw no reason to poke into the past- but she'd assumed she had had friends there.

"I left that school when I was twelve, the same year I joined." She told her, which made Sanya's eyes widen. "I was taught at home from then on, till I joined Finbar's."

"Why'd you leave?" She asked curiously- what if she'd been bullied, like Edmund had been during his first year in school? She doubted it was anything similar to the reason behind Mina's expulsion- a twelve-year-old couldn't push drugs. "Do you want to tell me?"

But Bonnie had noticed something else on Sanya's bookcase, and she got to her feet, striding across to it.
"You've got Van Gogh's letters!"

"Hein? Oh-" Sanya rolled her eyes, coming to where her friend was standing, "yes, the published letters. The book-" of many, many letters, "is quite old, I think Maude got it not long after it came out thirty years ago."

"Have you read it?"

How could she possibly not have read it, being who she was?
"Of course."

Bonnie blinked rapidly, "And? How was it?"

"Do you want me to spoil it for you?" Sanya asked impishly, before grinning. "Or do you want to take it with you?"

"No- I mean, yes- but I couldn't-"

"I'm not giving it to you for good." She rolled her eyes, reaching up to slide the book out of the shelf it was on.
Bonnie wouldn't have had to reach up- she was quite tall, three or four inches taller than her, and an inch taller than even Susan- who was tall for a girl. Perhaps, at least- it could also be that they were the same height, because it wasn't as though Sanya had taken out measuring tape and noted down their heights meticulously.
"Just for while I'm in America."

"I couldn't-"

"Yes, you could. Maybe it'll inspire you to draw your own version of A Starry Night." It was Sanya's favourite painting of his- narrowly winning over Starry Night Over the Rhône, Almond Blossoms, and Irises. She had never seen them- only in pictures, but the beauty of them had been breathtaking. "Have you spoken to Susan recently?"

That was a very startling segue.
"Er- not since school ended." For good! On one hand, Bonnie was glad to be free of it- on the other, her very much undecided future worried her. She'd go in to university, she knew- or some course- but to do what? "Why?"

"It's her birthday in a few days." Sanya replied, which was not an answer. "Did you know?"

"I- I- I knew it was in- in February-" Bonnie stammered, "but not the exact-"

"It's the sixteenth."

"Okay." She could not figure out what her friend was driving at. Did she want her to buy a gift for her, and say that it was from both her and Sanya? "About this book-"

"You should wish her a happy birthday in advance." She said firmly, taking Bonnie's hand. "She'd be glad to see you, too. Come on, I'll take you to theirs."
Sanya had no idea why she was- for lack of a better word- meddling. She didn't even know if Susan spending time with Bonnie after their tutoring was because she liked her, or out of politeness.

She felt like doing it. Hence, she was doing it.

It felt rather liberating. She'd never done that before, had she? Not without a massive amount of guilt and anxiety as company.

"No-" Bonnie protested feebly, and Sanya immediately stopped her act of dragging her out of the bedroom.

"You don't want to see Susan?" She asked- she didn't want to make her uncomfortable. "That's alright, I'm so-"

"No, it's- er-" She was blushing, she knew, and she didn't want to be, "it's weird, don't you see?"

"No." Sanya said.

Bonnie scowled at her, "I forget how antisocial you are. I just mean- I haven't seen or spoken to her since December- it's abrupt to suddenly drop in on-"

"You haven't seen me since December, either, but-"

"Yes, but we write to each other-"

Sanya sighed, very much annoyed- Heavens, if this breakup with Edmund turned out permanent, she was never dating again, everything about romance was so complicated.
And she wasn't even sure if this was romance!
"Susan won't mind-"

"Are you sure?" Bonnie chose to not throw another argument against her friend. "That she won't mind if I drop in?"

"Not at all."

"As in you're not sure at all or she won't mind at all?"

"Only one way to find out." She grinned, holding out her hand to her. It felt so strange to smile- when she'd cried on the floor after Edmund had broken up with her, she had thought she would never smile again. "Don't worry, I'll be with you."

Six minutes later, Sanya was waving goodbye to a panicked Bonnie in front of the Pevensie house.

"What do you mean you're leaving!?" Bonnie asked, her voice going higher than its usual deep tone. "You said-"

"I just meant I'll take you till here." Sanya shrugged, nodding her head towards the house. She was getting antsy, and she wanted- no, she needed to leave. The longer she was here, the more chances of seeing Edmund.
She did not want to think about what might happen if they saw each other again.
"Because you didn't know where Su lived. I'm not going to sit and be a third wheel."

"I don't mind having a third wheel! Only folks on dates mind that!"

"Would it not be a date?" She asked innocently. "You and Susan going out for- whatever? A walk, probably-"

Bonnie turned maroon, "We're- it's- it has- both- er- I am- it's wrong!"

Continuing her innocent facade, Sanya tilted her head in wonder, "Walks are wrong?"
If all else failed and she was found in the wrong, she could just pretend it had been unintentional and she'd been completely unaware.
But, going by Bonnie's rapidly deepening blush and her stuttering, she was fairly sure she was on the right track.

"No- no-" why weren't words working!? "Susan and I- she's a- I'm not- I am-"

"Sanya!" A voice shouted, and the girls looked up to see Lucy half-hanging out one of the windows, waving enthusiastically. "Hi! And hi to you, too, Bonnie!"

Bonnie could've cried in gratitude for her interruption.
"Hi, Lucy!"

Sanya waved back- she wasn't a quarter as enthusiastic, but she was frankly just glad that it wasn't Edmund there.
And a bit disappointed.
"Locked up in there, Lu?"

"No-" Her laugh sang through the air, "I've told myself I shan't leave the room until I finish my French work."

"Work?" Sanya shouted back in consternation. "You do know that we're off school, right?"

That was very true indeed, but Lucy replied back, "It'll reopen someday-"

"Not if I burn it down first-"

"Sanya." Bonnie rolled her eyes, elbowing her. "You can't say things like that in front of witnesses."

"Oh, please." Sanya rolled her eyes right back, spurred on by Lucy still laughing. "Everyone who has ever attended an educational institution has wanted to commit arson."

"Sanya!" Her sister-in-law called again, and the 'Indian' turned to look at her once more, "Walk tomorrow!?"

Oh, she didn't feel like it. She just wanted to hide under her blankets and rot there until she smelled so bad they had to stuff her in a grave.
But it was Lucy, and part of her felt quite guilty that they hadn't spent much time together in- in a while.
"Absolutely." She yelled back, before smiling. "Go do your French now!"

Lucy laughed again, before shutting the window.

It didn't take Sanya a moment to start up the conversation that had been interrupted, "Now- wh-what I was saying about Susan-"

"No, Sanya-"

"Yes, Bonnie-"

"I don't think of Susan like-"

"Bonnie!"

"Speak of the devil." Sanya murmured to herself, her head turning to the front door of the Pevensie house, which Susan was walking out of. "Hey, Su."

"Hallo, Sanya." Susan greeted her sister-in-law warmly. She didn't know what to say to Bonnie- she'd handle the pleasantries with Sanya first, that'd give her time to think of something. "Haven't seen you pop over in a few, why? Your grandmother gone full jailor?"

"No, Edmund and I broke up."
She had thought that, the more times she thought that and the more times she said it out loud, the easier it would be for her to come to terms with it- that she wouldn't feel as heartbroken anymore. So far, her hypothesis was deeply wrong.
"See, here's Bonnie. She came to meet-"

"Wait. Excuse me? Break up?" Susan exclaimed, more surprised than perhaps she had ever been. In this world, at least. "What do you mean!?"

She meant that, on the third of February, at about approximately four in the afternoon, Edmund Pevensie had terminated his relationship with, i.e. broken up with, Sanya Rainsford, formerly Sanya Pevensie (née Reza).
"He broke up with me." She said, not knowing what else to say. "That's as plainly as I can say it."

"But he didn't- he didn't say-"
Edmund had been moody the past few days, which everyone in the house had noticed- but everyone in the house had assumed it was because he was Edmund.
"He didn't tell us anything." Susan ended mutedly. He'd broken up with her? That meant it wasn't, most likely, a mutual decision. "When-"

Sanya answered tonelessly, "The third."

"Nine days, and he didn't-"
Well, she could understand why he hadn't told them. He'd just be yelled at for the decision- even by Lucy, and especially by Peter and she.
For good reason, though! Edmund had been miserable without Sanya- and Sanya, during whatever she'd undertaken, had been miserable, too. Only a fool would have made them go back to such misery.
No wonder Sanya had agreed to travel to America with them.
"I- sorry. I forget myself." She could process her shock later, possibly by severely scolding her baby brother. It wasn't meet to do it in front of the person that her brother had hurt. "How are you doing?"

"Alright." She replied- it wasn't as though she would tell her the truth- before nudging Bonnie with her shoulder. "Look, Bonnie's here, too."

"Hi." Bonnie was no longer maroon, but the nervousness on her face could not be mistaken for anything else. "Er- Sanya said it's your birthday soon?"

"Yes- yes, it's on the sixteenth." Susan said, smiling a little. She'd forgotten how wide Bonnie's smile was- it was adorable. "Is that why you came?"

"Yes- no, I mean, no-"

"Perhaps you should decide on an answer first, before speaking?"

It might have sounded mean to anyone else- perhaps there was a subtle shade of condescension in Susan's tone- but Bonnie only chuckled, somewhat out of embarrassment.
"I try that, but it never works. Which is why I do my best to not speak much at all."

"That's a pity." Susan said, moving closer to her. She'd come out of the house to soak in the sun- what little sun there was, at least- but chatting with Bonnie was a perfectly pleasing alternative. "You have a lovely voice, Bonnie."

"Really? I don't like it." But then she looked suddenly thoughtful, and she said, "Well, we rarely like things about ourselves."

"Not true, I like everything about myself." Susan responded- before giggling at the other girl's suddenly panicked look. It was strange, but Bonnie looked rather cute when she was nervous. "I am joking. Regardless of what my big brother says, I do have a sense of humour."

The girls didn't notice as Sanya slipped away, far too engrossed in each other.

Part of her had wanted to stay.

She wanted to join in the laughter, to be a normal girl spending time with friends, to have fun.

But the two deserved to spend time together- as friends, or otherwise- without any outside interruptions.
Besides- Edmund was possibly inside the house at that very moment.

He could see her from the window, or walk out at any moment- and Sanya had no faith whatsoever in her composure and conviction to stay away from him.
It was more likely than not that she'd end up pleading for him to take her back.

What worried her was that she could hardly bring herself to care about how demeaning, how low, how endlessly pathetic that would be.
Begging a man to be with her again?

The High Queen of Rihaaya would never have. A dreamer and gutless she had been, but weak and desperate enough to beg? Never.

But I'm something else.

And she was yet again something else again now.

"I've been so many Sanyas." She whispered to herself, sticking her hands into her pockets as she walked towards the Rainsford house. People changed every minute of every day, it was said, and if that was true- she had been a different person every minute that she had lived- and she had lived a long time. "And by the Heavens, I hate every single one of them."
But Edmund had loved all the Sanyas he had known.

Love just isn't always enough-

She had argued against that- but he had been right, hadn't he? If love was enough- so much bad wouldn't have happened. If love was enough- she wouldn't have become the mess that she now was.
But it wasn't enough.

Love wasn't enough.

The realisation made the heartbreak worse- and tears were streaming down her cheeks by the time she slammed her bedroom door shut, falling into her bed and sobbing once more.

-
-✧･: °*✧*°:･✧-
-

-

(HITSHE.
But as it is *not* how it truly ended, we shall have to see what happens next...)
-

(Bonnie: *talks/breathes/does literally anything*
Susan: 😄😊😍)

-

Um- yeah.
That just happened.

Edmund broke up with Sanya.

Sanya, consequently, is going to America.

Plus, Bonnie and Susan are flirting.

I know it's pretty sad and hurtful and downright horrifying that Edmanya broke up- but it's been coming. It's been coming for several chapters, if not even more. It was going to happen sooner or later- and it did.
Now the question is- how the break will be, and if it'll be temporary (as Edmund says and hopes) or permanent (as Sanya fears and feels).

Edmund doesn't consider it a break-up- just a for-now break, to get their bearings right- but Sanya does consider it a break, and she fully feels that her soulmate wants to leave her.
Basically, he's the Rachel and she's the Ross.
At least there's no Mark-from-Bloomingdale's in this situation.
Yet, at least, anyway.

But I see no point in using 90s sitcoms as parallels, so I'll move on.

Edmund chokes when he has to say that they'll be friends- but I think that he and Sanya can be friends. Great friends.
But they'll just always fall in love with each other, a little or a lot. And in this current universe- it is truly A Lot. They have too much chemistry- history- shared trauma, to be just friends. Even for a little time.

And Sanya would not want to be just friends. A thousand years of torture, and the love of her life wants to be friends? She would stab herself in the throat with the scissors before he was even done talking.
Maybe she wouldn't go that far- but you get it.
Oh, I forgot- she did punch the wall after Ed left the room, so I am perhaps not that wrong.

I can't believe she threw her necklace away. Not just away- at his fucking face.
(Mia Thermopolis also throws her necklace at Michael Moscovitz in 'Princess Diaries' Book...8. I think. Yes. Can't remember if she actually throws it at him- oh, I think she just gives it back in his hand, a final defeated gesture, a symbol of their relationship.)

Anyway.

Sanya just feels utterly deadened. Her heart's been torn out- and that, too, by the person who has earned it, the one who holds it.
No wonder she wants to run away to Boston.

Edmund leaving to spy on giants after Sanya tells him that she can't love him = Sanya leaving for America after Edmund tells her he wants a break from their relationship.
Ah, a thousand years, but as romantically inept as ever, these two.

Here's to hoping that Susan and Bonnie have SLIGHTLY more sense. I'm rooting for you two tall brunette sapphics🤞

And Sanya and Bonnie's friendship? The best. Absolutely, the best.
The beginning of next chapter is a scene between them, and it's so absolutely lovely. Sanya deserves some serotonin in her life- and someone on her side, now that Edmund has left.

Also, the fact that Maude just immediately supported Sanya's travel plans the moment she heard that 'that boy' wasn't going???? And that she wants her to have fun and move on????
If this book was set during this current decade, the old lady would be sending a very reluctant Sanya on hot girl summer trips EVERY YEAR.

And, as always- I humbly and unashamedly ask you to vote on the chapters, and perhaps comment, too :)