Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be our luxury!
Futile - the Winds - to a Heart in port -
Done with the Compass -
-

All Sanya could think as Susan laughed and wrapped her arm around her shoulder, was that her lips looked more red than Snow White's.
"That wasn't even that funny." She pointed out, but was unable to not grin.

"I- I- I called that captain a pig, and you said to not insult pigs!" She went off into peals of laughter again, and she almost skidded off the sidewalk onto the main street. "That was funny!"

"How drunk are you?" Sanya asked, chuckling.
The only person who had laughed that hard at her truly horrible jokes were Edmund, and that was only because he'd been married to her and had loved her then and had wanted her to have sex with him.

"Not at all." Susan forced herself to stop giggling. She truly was sober- she'd just had a few sips of wine! It usually took about five hundred sips of wine for her to get tipsy. "But I feel so light, and accordingly, I feel like laughing! It's such a glorious night, darling!"
It was the first night in months that she had not felt lonelier than Oizys herself. Sanya had been next to her, throughout the day- and the younger girl had laughed so much, too, her brown cheeks ruddy with merriment.
Perhaps that had been why she didn't feel lonely.

"It was a nice day." She admitted, in spite of herself.
Nothing ground-breaking or not miraculous had happened- it had been a nice, simple, pure day. A very vanilla day, as Sanya was calling it in her head.

And it had been splendid. She loved the day so much. She had been in Boston since March, and it was the middle of September now- and of all the days, this had been the best.

She had not cried once, and she had succeeded in pushing down the pain of being without Edmund- somewhat- and she had also managed to not let her guilt of having let his birthday go by, without wishing him or getting him a present, or doing anything about it at all, consume her.

She had been almost- emotionally stable.

Which, she knew, meant that a crushing depressive low would soon hit her, and she would curl up into a ball and cuddle Milkshake- but that was fine. Some bad with the good, and all that.

"I think Mum and Dad are asleep." Susan whispered as she tiptoed into the room that she and Sanya shared. She had gone out to head into the bathroom to change, but she'd decided that letting the Indian know this bit of news was more important. "Imagine! It's only- oh, dear, it's almost eleven."

Sanya turned away from the mirror- she had changed into pyjamas already, strands of her hair on the lavender of it, and she was brushing her hair again. There were thin silver streamer-bits in it- they had been the decorations at the party they had gone to, and they'd practically been falling apart by the time they had left.
"Let them sleep. Hopefully their sleep is better than a baby's, and they don't realise how late we came home." They weren't her parents, and she was fairly sure that they still didn't like her- but she didn't want Susan to get into trouble. "Good thing you had the logic to take a key."

"I'm nothing if not logical." Susan said, but a shadow had passed over her face and in her eyes, and she soon went out again, closing the door with a snap.

Sanya blinked at the door, before looking back at the mirror and making a face at her reflection.
"I see the depression hit Susan first."

It was as she was battling a knot that she had been avoiding for a week, that the door opened again and Susan walked in, wearing a plain nightgown and a very troubled expression.

There came the sound of the door locking, and then the older girl's voice, "Sanya."

"Susan." The other girl replied, grunting as she tried to drag the comb through the knot- it hurt so badly. "Going to sleep? That's alright, just don't turn off the-"

"N-no. I mean, I will sleep," Susan sounded nervous, and she disliked that, "but I want to talk to you first."

First Bonnie, and now Susan.
What was up with her being accosted to 'talk' at such late hours of the night!?
She chose to not display her annoyance, on account of the wonderful day she had spent with her sister-in-law, and she walked over to sit down on her bed, mirroring Susan's seat on hers.
She looked so solemn, but that wasn't what alarmed Sanya. What alarmed Sanya was that her lips were trembling, as though she was trying to not cry.
"Su." She asked softly, reaching out to grasp her shoulder- in a comforting way, she hoped. "What's wrong?"

"I- I know."

"Sorry?" About her children? About Rhiannon!? Know what? "What do you mean?"

"I know about- about what happened to you."

Leaving her children and having sex with Rhiannon and murdering the Sphinx hadn't happened to her. She had chosen to do those things.
"I have genuinely no idea what-"

"The miscarriage!" Susan almost shouted, and Sanya recoiled in shock. "The miscarriage- I know about that."

A punch to the stomach. A punch to the gut. A punch to the heart. A punch to every other vital organ.
She had not thought about that the entire day, too.
Her voice was hollow, as she asked, "How?"

"I- a classmate came into my dorm and said some patient was crying for a Pevensie in her sleep. Said she was really sick- I thought it was Lucy, and I was worried, and I ran up to the san." She swallowed, and looked at Sanya. "It wasn't Lu, though- it was you."

Can you call- can you call Edmund Pevensie-
Sanya must have been whispering that even in her sleep.

"When I reached the san, you were awake and talking to that doctor." And then Susan's eyes filled up with tears. "He told you that you had a miscarriage."

"Yes." It had been almost a year- just a few more weeks, and it would be the ninth of October again- but she remembered everything about that morning. "I remember."

"I wanted to tell you that I knew- all of this past year, I wanted to tell you, and I felt so wretched, because I just couldn't- I'm so sorry."

"It's alright." She tried to smile, but couldn't.
Anxiety flared inside her even more intensely, as a worry sprung to fruition in her head.
"Have you told Edmund?" if she had- that would make sense, too! "Please- please-"

"No- no, I haven't!" Susan took Sanya's hand, and clasped it tight. "Ed- Ed has a right to know, but it's your secret to tell."

"I'll tell him someday." She whispered, not knowing if she was telling Susan or herself. Her voice trembled, "I promise, I will. That fetus was half him- it was ours, after all."

Susan let a breath loose that she hadn't known was holding.
She had hoped that Edmund had been the father- but part of her had been afraid, so afraid, that what the doctor had said about someone having raped Sanya in her sleep was true.
"You're so brave, Sanya." Susan didn't think she could have gone through a quarter of the things she had. "How do you do it?"

Because I'm too much of a coward to kill myself.
She shrugged, rubbing her eyes with her other hand, "I don't know. I don't. It's really hard- everything."
She was so very sleepy, but she had another question to ask. Normally, she wouldn't have asked anything- but her heart was hurting, and she felt almost on the verge of tears suddenly, and she felt like she would lose it entirely if she didn't have an answer.
"Is that why you've been so nice to me? Because you knew about the miscarriage?"
It would make sense, Sanya thought. Pity was a very common reason for kindness.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head firmly.
"Of course not. I'm nice to you because I care about you, Sanya. Because you're my family, and you're wonderful."

"I'm your family, yes,but I'm not wonderful, Susan."

"Yes, you are."

Her nose burned. Was she going to cry? No, no, no- she didn't want to cry.
Princesses don't cry. Queens don't cry. I don't cry.
"No, I-"

"There is a reason-" many reasons, "my brother loves you so much, Sanya."

The pain of being without Edmund was no longer pushed down. It was there, at the very forefront, floating all over her heart. All over her soul.
Her head bowed, she whispered, "I don't think he does anymore."

"Of- of course he-" Susan almost sputtered, because of how ridiculous Sanya's words were, "of course he does!"

"If you knew what I've done- what I've been through-"

"I know you didn't deserve to go through all that." She said gently, looking at her bowed head. "Sanya, look at me. Look."

Sanya didn't want to look. Sanya wanted to cry.
If someone had told her two hours ago that this was how she'd be feeling- well, she'd have believed it.
She was quite sure she wasn't capable of being happy for long.
But she did look up, into Susan's silvery eyes. They had tears in them, and her nose was red, too.

"You are wonderful." Susan whispered, holding her hand tighter.

She had easily been the least close to Sanya, of all the siblings- Lucy was her friend, and Peter and she had the dynamic of Tom and Jerry, but they had never been anything close.

Regardless of that, she cared for Sanya deeply- and, especially in the past few months, she felt a strange kinship with the younger girl, who had lost her home and her love and everything.

It didn't make sense. It was Peter with whom Susan had most in common- they had left loves behind at home, they had left home at the same time, they were both the eldest in the family.

But somehow, it was Sanya. Sanya, who was as lonely as she was. Sanya, who wanted to forget what she left behind, too.

What had been that thing Anne said in Anne of Green Gables- kindred spirits?
Yes. Perhaps Sanya didn't feel the same way- and Susan wasn't even sure if she even felt that way- but that seemed apt.

"Sanya-" her bright brown eyes weren't full of tears, not like hers was, but Susan could somehow still feel the pain, "you are loved."
By Edmund, by her, by Lucy, by Peter, by Bonnie. And Bonnie had become her friend after everything bad she had gone through and despite Sanya's very visible issues in this world.
Bonnie was splendid, but even the most good person wouldn't be friends with someone who was truly unlovable.
She was loved.

But she shouldn't be. Sanya didn't deserve to be loved.

"I have no idea what happened in those thirteen hundred years." She went on- just as she had no idea what had happened to Tritonia, the woman she had loved, "but I don't need to know."

"Edmund-"

"He doesn't need to know either." It was Sanya's story. Susan felt that she deserved to decide who got to read it. "But he asks, because he worries about you, and he loves you. He just wants to help, but he doesn't think he can do that if he doesn't know."

Sanya sniffled, "If he knew, he wouldn't want to help me."
He wouldn't love me.
"It's all so wretched between us now. And I think it forever will be."

"It's Edmund." Susan said, as though that explained everything. "My brother has issues and I understand that everything is different now, but he always wants to help. And he adores you, Sanya."
She bit her lip.
"I don't think anything, anything will ever change that."

She'd been about to say, 'well, he shouldn't adore me', but she stopped before she could.
Maybe she was right. Maybe Edmund would understand. Maybe he wouldn't be repulsed by her, for everything she'd done. Maybe he would still love her, even when he knew that she had killed their children.
I could never hate you.
"Do you really believe that?"

Her sister-in-law nodded solemnly, "With every fibre of my being."
She shifted forward, closer to Sanya. If she inclined her head slightly, their foreheads would be leaning against the other.
"And even if he doesn't-" she watched her eyes widen slightly, out of shock, and Susan hated herself for saying that, but she didn't want to give someone she loved false hope, even if changes of that hope being false were very low, "in the very unlikely chance that he doesn't- you'll have me. You'll always have me."
There was nothing quite like a bond between two lonely souls. Especially when said souls were both eldest daughters, and had been Queens in a world they would never return to again.

Sanya blinked, and- without even knowing what she was doing, she moved closer to Susan.
Her lips were inches from hers, and she could see the smudges of red paint over the curves of her lips, where Susan hadn't quite managed to rub the lipstick off.
"Susan." Sanya whispered, her heart beating so loudly she wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie hadn't already burst in. "Do you mean that?"

Susan nodded, but was afraid to move her head too much- she didn't know what was happening, but she didn't want to spook Sanya, or herself.
Softly, she said, "Yes."
Abruptly, she noticed a small scar on Sanya's collarbone, just next to the first undone button. Only the one button was unbuttoned, though- the rest were done up severely.
But they were buttons. All too easy to undo.
"'Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell.'"

"Oh." The sound fell from Sanya's lips so easily, but no words.
Edmund had said something similar to her once. Something about parting being sweet sorrow, when they'd been nestled together in bed, Jem between them, about to drift off to sleep.
But Jem was dead, and Edmund had broken up with her- it was Susan with her.
Edmund had left her again. She had no one else.
The door was locked, she remembered bizarrely. It was only Susan and she.
Susan, her sister-in-law.
Susan, who had accepted that she needed to have secrets.
Susan, who had just whispered to her what she was rather sure was a poem.
Susan, who was so beautiful.

Their lips weren't even an inch apart.

"Can- can-" She stammered, feeling an enormous lump sprout in her throat, "can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Susan said, far too quickly, but she didn't care about that. She didn't care that she was her sister by law. She didn't care that she really shouldn't do this. She just ached to feel what she was offering, to hell with all else. "Kiss me, Sanya- please."

Their foreheads touched, and Sanya tangled her fingers of one hand in Susan's hair, the other fisted into the thin material of her too-easy-to-rip-off nightgown- and she was staring at her.
She had always known that Susan had had freckles. It was a shared trait between the siblings- Peter was the only one to not have them, or his freckles were so light that she had never noticed.
But it was only Edmund whose freckles she had cared about.
"Susan," Sanya whispered, her body and heart tight with agony and want for someone she shouldn't want and so much longing for someone who had left her, "you have beautiful freckles."

And then the two girls leaned in and bridged the gap between their lips.
--

"Hi." Edmund said, as soon as the door of the Waddingham house opened, revealing Oscar. "Happy Birthday. Sorry, I know I'm late, I was writing to my brother."

And he had woken up late, but he decided to not mention that part. He wasn't superstitious, but he didn't want anything to risk his ability to sleep somewhat-properly again.

Lucy had taken the task to write to Susan about their time in Narnia, and Edmund had decided to write to Peter.
He supposed they should have taken a few more days to recuperate- it had just been yesterday, after all- but both of them had wanted to pen down the account of the adventure as soon as possible. The earlier they did it, the fewer details they'd forget.

The details of their last time there. The very last.

Part of him had known, deep down, that it would be his final time in Narnia. It made sense, and he hated that, and he had hoped irrationally that he was wrong.

But he hadn't been wrong.
As usual, he had been right, and it truly was goodbye. He had left his home.
And it hurt him so much.

If Sanya had felt even a fraction of this pain when she had found out that Rihaaya was gone, and when she'd had to leave her world forever- dear Aslan. He was in awe at how she could ever have borne it.

"It's alright." Oscar said, waving him in. Even though it was his birthday, he looked exceedingly glum. "My parents aren't home. They left a couple hours ago- hospital."

"What?" He asked in surprise, as he shrugged off his coat to put on the coatrack. "Why?"
Oscar had told him that none of his friends would be coming- none of his school friends lived nearby, and his neighbourhood friends had all taken apprenticeships in the year off- but he had said that that was fine, his parents and Edmund would be enough company.
"Is it your mum's back again?"

The older boy nodded, as he led him through the foyer and to the living room. A 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' banner was pasted on the wall above the sofa, and balloons had been stuck at random points in the room.
"Mum kept saying she was fine, but she could hardly move, and eventually Dad put his foot down and dragged her to the doctor's." He laughed suddenly. "Not sure if her unwillingness to go was because it was my birthday or because she hates going to the doctor."

"Yes, I understand that." Edmund said quietly- Sanya, too, quite despised medical visits.
He'd been wondering whether to write a letter to Sanya about Narnia, too.
It would be fine if he didn't- she'd read the details from Lucy's letter to Susan, after all.
But it was Sanya. Sanya. If he didn't share it with her, who would he share it with?
Maybe he should get Eustace to write to her. He had a feeling that, now that he was no longer a little pompous twit of a snot-rag, she'd like him.
"I'm sure she'll be fine."

Oscar nodded absently, and gestured to the sofa, "You want to sit here, or go up to my room?"

"It's your birthday, birthday boy." Edmund spoke with a grin, and Oscar couldn't but smile as well.
The birthday boy still looked slightly glum- but, well, on certain rare occasions, his smile was as infectious as his little sister's.
"We can do whatever you wish. Er, short of singing. I'm not a very good singer."
Singing to his baby daughter, and singing and dancing with his wife were entirely different. He was not going to embarrass himself in front of Oscar.
"That makes two of us, Pevensie." Oscar laughed again, before turning to the kitchen that stood just off the drawing room. "Oh, for- the cat's out."

"You have a cat?" He blinked, brightening up. "I like cats."

"Yeah- well, Bitsy is a stray and she wanders out of the house often, but she's been part of our family since I was about ten." He shrugged. He hoped his dad had fed her in the morning- if he hadn't, she had clearly run out because she was pissed. "Stay around, she'll be back soon. Hey, want to get drunk? You're sixteen, right?"

"Seventeen in twelve days." He nodded, before making a face. "I'm not- not into drinking, though. Don't really like to lose control of my senses."
He'd easily have preferred to meet the cat.

"Seriously? Most people drink for that exact reason."

He shrugged, "I'm odd, I guess."
He supposed it was more than just odd to have an ice witch feed you enchanted candy that eventually led to you betraying his family.
But he didn't know the right word to describe that.

"I like your oddness." Oscar said, rather softly. Then he cleared his throat, "I mean, it's far more interesting, isn't it?"

"From- from a certain point of view." Edmund accepted, blinking a little.
Oscar was sweet.
He hadn't ever thought 'sweet' was a word to describe the rugby captain- but, well, Oscar Waddingham was proving him wrong on many counts.
"Alright, let's go to your room." He nodded. The excess of balloons made him fearful that he'd end up falling over and bursting all of them. "If- if you want."

He nodded as well, "Sure, why not. My room's terribly messy, though."

"You haven't seen messy till you've seen my and Peter's room." He snorted, following him towards the stairs and up.
Oh, fuck- he hadn't given him his present! He'd bought it in the morning, and it was still in his pocket- what an idiot! That was one of the first things he was supposed to do, right after wishing him a happy birthday.

Oscar turned to grin at him, "I'm sure I'll get the chance to see it one day. I put my trust in you."

Something about his tone made heat rise to Edmund's cheeks, and he had to actually glance into the mirror in Oscar's room to make sure he wasn't blushing.
He wasn't. Thankfully. Why would he be blushing, anyway? There was nothing to blush about!

Oscar's room was small, with a twin bed pushed to one side and a desk on the other, with a wardrobe next to the doorway- the mirror was on the wardrobe.

"Lots of trophies." He commented, bending to see the little figurines that littered the desk. "Hang on, you played badminton, too?"

"When I was small, my cousin and I went in for a few kids' doubles. I tried my hand at cricket, too." Oscar answered, sitting down on the bed. "I didn't like those, though. And there are more trophies downstairs-" he chuckled, "the bigger ones, you can guess."

"A proper little sports prodigy, aren't you?" Edmund said, rather amazed, as he sat down next to his friend. "How have you not got a sports scholarship to some uni yet?"

"Bad luck, mate, bad luck." He said, shaking his head mock-ruefully. "You'd think I'd be used to it, it's been eighteen bloody years-"

"Nineteen." Edmund corrected- he appeared to have forgotten it was his birthday. "Birthday, remember? Speaking of-"
He reached into his trouser pocket, and pulled out a small box.
"Happy Birthday, and please keep in mind that I am very much broke."

"Oh, sod off with that, I don't care about that. Honestly, your company was already a great gift, as far I'm concerned."
But Oscar did take the box from it, pulling off the lid immediately- and then he laughed.
"A keychain?"

"You mentioned at school once that you always lost your keys." He spoke with a shrug, as though he wasn't at all nervous as to how he'd like the gift. "And it has a little rugby ball at the end, too. You know, since you hate rugby."
The last part was obviously sarcasm, because he was very nervous.
This was the one reason he disliked giving gifts sometimes- there were such high chances of disappointing someone you cared about.

"I see that." He said, staring at the metallic object. "This is a really thoughtful gift, actually. I have even more keys now, since my parents finally trust me with a set of the house keys- so, thanks."

"Anytime, mate." Edmund smiled, looking at him.
Oscar was looking at him, too, his lips curved in the smallest smile. But it seemed genuine, still.
"Sorry it's just me here."

"I'm not." Oscar said immediately, gesturing for Edmund to sit back and be comfortable. "Stop saying sorry. I told you that your company's enough, didn't I? I mean what I say."

"Oh." Edmund said, rather quietly. He'd almost never felt like enough. He'd only felt worthwhile in Narnia- and he would never be there again. "That's good to know."
Then the boys lapsed into a sudden silence, sitting side by side, their shoulders touching.

"Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"You look sad."

He was still looking at him?
"Er- yeah. I probably do." But it wasn't like he could tell him that the reason for the sadness was that he was unable to ever go back to the magical fantasy realm that he called home. "Sorry. An old family friend died yesterday, and I thought I was alright, but- well, some things hit you harder than expected."

"Oh, I'm so sorry- I-"

"Thanks," Edmund grimaced, "but I don't want to talk about it, if that's fine."

"Of course, mate, whatever you like." Oscar nodded immediately- he was glad Edmund had said that, because he had no idea how he would have tried to comfort him. "Say, remember when John tried to kick that goal and ended up kicking Carmichael?"

Miraculously, Edmund laughed. How was it possible? He had thought nothing in the world could get him to laugh, not when he was thinking of Narnia.
"How could I forget? He'd been boasting about this new kick he'd seen in- in a magazine, right? The entire practice, he kept on and on and on about it-"

"I remember Carmichael didn't want to let him do that kick, but you knew that if John didn't, then we'd never hear the end of it." Oscar nodded again, chuckling along. "I'm not even sure how, but you managed to convince Carmichael to let him do the play."

"Yes- I did." Despite the affirmation, Edmund sounded puzzled- because he was so. "I can't believe you remember that."

Oscar reddened, and looked away, "I'm perceptive of more than just rugby balls, you know."

"No, I know that-" he'd learned that, rather, over the past few weeks that they'd been spending time together, "it's just- I don't know. Didn't think you paid attention to any individual players. Pretty sure the only time you said my name was when you were trying to cheer me up before my first game."

"Did I? I don't even remember that game, if I'm being honest." He shrugged. "I don't think I really took any special note of you till the next year. Was that your upper fourth?"

Edmund nodded.

Oscar leaned back against the small, a little smile on his face.
"I kind of miss school, to tell you the truth." He turned to the side, as Edmund leaned against the wall, too. "As much as it feels like a prison sometimes- it's better than the real world."

"You're not in the real world yet."

"Thankfully." But then he sighed. "I worry I might get my call-up notice any day. I know quite a few blokes who haven't got it- one's almost twenty-three- but with my luck-"

Edmund didn't really feel like holding Oscar's hand as he processed whatever he was going through, because of what he himself was going through- but he was his friend, wasn't he? He had made his sadness melt to calm- just a bit.
He could do the same.
"Os, look- I'm here next to you, right?"

Oscar gave him a confused look, "Er- yeah?"

"And I'm splendid." He smirked cockily at him, and the captain flushed slightly. "So, clearly, if someone as splendid as I am is with you, your luck's not too bad."

Oscar pondered that.
"I didn't think of it like that."

"I'm a very wise person, Oscar." Edmund nodded solemnly. Goodness, he hoped he didn't burst out laughing. "No one thinks like I do."

"No one's like you."
Although he remembered little of that year and had definitely not taken much notice of a boy from lower-fourth- Oscar remembered the day he had allowed Edmund onto the team. He remembered how he had been in awe of his understated, casual self-assurance.
He remembered thinking he was baffling. He still thought that. And he was still- he was still in awe of him.
More than just awe.
"I think that's why I like you."

His heartbeat quickened.
He means it as friends, he told himself, his heart hammering against his ribcage. He means it as- bloody hell, he's leaning in-

The strange part was, he didn't want him to stop leaning in.

Even stranger?

Edmund was leaning in, too- moving closer and closer.

Their shoulders bumped together, and Oscar's eyes didn't know whether to look at his eyes or his mouth, and Edmund's hand somehow found Oscar's- he was breathing too hard, or he wasn't breathing at all- they were going to ki-

"Oscar!" Shouted a male voice from downstairs, a door slamming shut, and the two boys sprang apart. "Os, you at home?"

Oscar stared at Edmund with wide grey-hazel eyes and he gulped.
"I-"

"Oscar!?" Came another shout- a female one, sounding much more tired than the other one. "Sweetheart-"

"Answer them." Edmund urged, finding his voice.
He was still holding his hand. His head was swimming. He couldn't take his eyes off him, as it seemed the older boy couldn't take his off him.
Had they been about to kiss?
"Answer!"

"Ye-yeah, Mum!" Oscar called back hoarsely, still gazing at Edmund. He cleared his throat, and shouted louder, "I'm in my room!"

"Well, come down, son, we've a birthday to celebrate-"

"Coming!" He yelled back, getting to his feet.
But he didn't let go of Edmund's hand, turning to look at him.
"I- I- er-"

"I should go." Edmund said, standing up as well. Staying would just make things infinitely more awkward and that would not be pretty.
Oscar has really pretty lips, his mind told him. A pretty face, too. Very pretty.
He hated his mind.
"I, er, I'll see you, Os-Oscar." He nodded at him, finally letting go of his hand.

"Bye." Oscar said weakly as the younger boy all but flew out of the bedroom.
Then he crashed back into his bed, faceplanting into the pillow and groaning.

Edmund did the same when he reached Lucy's bedroom, after having cycled faster than even Hermes could have- and Lucy silently handed him her teddy.

She had absolutely no idea what had happened to him, or why he kept banging his head against the pillow.

But she didn't need to know- she gave him the teddy regardless.

It was quite apparent that he needed it.

-
-✧･: °*✧*°:･✧-
-

(Tbh, Edmund and Sanya's relationship is much more messed up than Elijah and Hayley's, and more genuinely in agony, too- the latter's angst felt like it was terribly made up just for the sake of drama and the will-they-won't-they.)
-

(gal-pals just gal-pal-ing around town, nothing sapphic to see here from sapphic-nya and su-sapphic-san, no SIRREE.)
-

(Two guys sitting no feet apart because omg what is happening omg is he about to kiss me omg do i want to kiss him HELP)
-

...gay rights!!
🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈🏳‍🌈

This chapter is barely 5K, making it one of the SHORTEST chapters in this book- but, wow, packs quite a punch, doesn't it?

Also, the top header poem thing is by Emily Dickinson. Who was a lesbian and very gay (especially for a woman named Susan 'Sue' Gilbert. Watch the show 'Dickinson'). Of course, I had to use a poem of hers for THIS chapter. Wild nights indeed.

Alright, alright, I'll get into the actual chapter now 🙄

Sanya is heartbroken and lonely. Susan is heartbroken and comforting.
Sanya has always found Susan beautiful. Susan has very few chances for 'companionship' in this world and time.
Sanya has lost her home. Susan has lost her home.
Sanya has tits, and she's a girl. Susan has freckles, and she resembles Edmund (plus, the breasts, too).
Sanya and Susan, in that moment- they wanted each other. That's it.

And that's why they- kissed. And possibly more.

As for Edmund and Oscar- Oscar's clearly had a crush on Edmund for ages. Probably since even before he chased Edmanya out of the rugby field. I'm surprised no one commented such suspicions. I may be the writer, but my gaydar was jumping during the very first scene that Oscar was in.

I wrote 'Oscar studied Edmund for a moment, noting the younger boy's quiet, assured confidence. It was baffling, but he liked baffling things.'- and I was immediately '🏳‍🌈❓'
Ngl, like Oscar said, he did not notice him until the following year, but there were seeds of interest in that very first interaction instead.

And- ages.

Susan and Sanya are- murky, to say the least, mainly because of Sanya not being born in this world. But let's take her birth year as January 1928- which makes her almost three years younger than Susan.
But it's actually fine. She's sixteen and Susan is nineteen, both equally mature, and there's no power imbalance here. This is not like Rhiannon and Sanya, at ALL.

Oscar and Edmund are two years and a week apart, (not taking Edmund's Narnia-years, since no air of Narnia here), and Oscar only started noticing Edmund when Ed was fifteen (upper fourth) and he was seventeen. That is a perfectly acceptable age-difference, regardless of time period.

Nothing icky and sickening and pedo-ish like c*smund and l*cian going on here.

My first boyfriend and I had a similar age difference- two years and a couple of months. So did my second. And...third, even though I don't really consider that a boyfriend. Surprisingly, only my former girlfriend and I were close in age.
But it's been like three years since I was in any sort of relationship, so let's forget about THAT.

Anyway, yeah, it's the 1940s. Their genders are the problem, not their ages.
Not that society will come between them.

But hey.
Whatever makes Edmund and Sanya somewhat happy, right? Even for a time, even if it's not each other?

And- sometimes, maybe simple things are what someone needs. Maybe complicated stuff, however true and real, isn't always the best.

Lastly- whatever thing Sanya and Susan may have going on will be purely physical. Well, sexual. There will be NOTHING romantic between them, I can assure. I'm sorry to spoil and sorry if I've disappointed, but I simply had to say that.
It is just- two lonely Queens seeking some semblance solace by sleeping with each other.

I cannot, however, say the same for Edmund and Oscar's- relationship, for lack of a better word.
We- well, you- shall see what unfolds.

I know Susan and Sanya is more or less out of nowhere- it's supposed to be- and unexpected- but if you didn't realise that something might happen between Oscar and Edmund, you're BLIND.

Next chapter is entirely a scene with Sanya! I think. I can't remember, but I'm pretty sure it's all Sanya. No Edmund.

Also, I know that both Chapter 10 'Strange Shadow Of' and this chapter 'Strange Part Was' begin with 'strange' and that kinda bothers me, but there's no synonym of 'strange' that begins with s, so 'strange' it shall remain.

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