It will all other Houses beat
The ever have been made or mended,
With rooms concise, or rooms distended.
You'll find us very snug next year,
-
(warning: sexual content)
-

"Sanya." Maude called, without even turning around or looking up from her magazine. "Stop lurking like a ghost, be a woman, and come speak to me."

Sanya blinked. She had been standing by the doorway of the drawing room for almost half an hour- she'd been fidgeting nervously, biting her nails and chewing at her bottom lip alternatively, not sure whether to go in or not.
She'd really thought she was being inconspicuous.
"No, it's alright." She said, very quietly. "I'll just- I will- I'll stand here."

"Child, stop being a nuisance, and just come here."

Yes, she was a High Queen and Queen Mother and Queen Consort, as well as the descendant of the God of the Seas- but not even a Deity could've resisted Maude's command, she was sure.
So, she went, sitting down next to her grandmother.

The old lady clicked her tongue in disapproval, "Always sitting down like a sack of potatoes. I should have sent you to a finishing school."

"Normal school finished me, so I don't think that's necessary." She said, raising her hand to her mouth to bite her nails again.
But Maude, still reading her magazine, slapped it down.
"Ow! What!?"

She ignored her.
"Before you say something which will undoubtedly ruffle me-" She closed the magazine, and set it to her side- but still did not turn towards the bride-to-be. "I've made an appointment with my estate agent for the weekend after next, for you and that boy. He'll show you houses near Cambridge-"

"So soon?" She interrupted her. She hadn't expected that. "But we don't get married till May."

She snorted, "It's not just picking and buying the house, which is a tedious process in itself. There's paperwork-"

Obviously, Edmund would be handling that.

"And furnishing-"

Oh, khub bhalo. More decisions!

"And the move itself. It isn't a one-day process."

"Okay. Thank you." She said that, not only because she was grateful- she was grateful, very much- but because it was best to not aggravate her grandmother anymore. She had been quite cold since Sanya had begun her job at the London Zoo- so cold, in fact, that it unnerved her greatly.
Sanya had been trying her best to melt her iciness like she had once melted an ice castle- which was why she had agreed without complaint to an engagement party in April, when the groom-to-be would be on break from university for Easter.
She didn't want to make her upset- and she really needed her to be in slightly high spirits for what she was about to tell her.
"I have something to tell you."

"Are you pregnant?"

"No." Why did everyone keep asking her that!? "After we get married, I'm changing my name."

Maude finally looked at her- and, to Sanya's surprise, she did look taken back. Was it really surprising? But it was the norm- especially in this world- wasn't it?
"You are?"

"Yes." Moment of truth. "To Reza-Pevensie."
She had decided that before she had even come to this world. Her name by birth, which was also her Abba's name- and her wedded name. It was about time that she finally made that official- legal.

"Reza?" Because of her accent, it came out like a mix between reap and razor. "Whose name is that?"

"My name by birth."

Maude looked stupefied, "Well, I'd no idea."

How did she not know? The name on the wedding invitations that had been sent was 'Sanya Reza Rainsford'!
Still, Sanya shrugged, finding nothing to say out loud.

The old lady, too, was quiet for a long time. It was characteristic for Sanya- but not for her. Maude always had something to say- something snappy, even mean, sometimes haughty, but some thing.
That was usual. But what she felt right now- far from usual.
"So you shan't be a Rainsford after May."

"Uh," Heavens, she felt so awful, "not legally."

"Oh, don't give me that!" Under the layers of disapproval- she sounded hurt. Even Sanya could understand that. "You won't be a Rainsford in any way."

What was she even supposed to say to that? Seriously, what? She wasn't a Rainsford! That was just the truth.
But- Maude had given her a home. She had been family to her. And Sanya had become almost- used to saying that she was Sanya Rainsford. She had become used to so little of this world- but that, she had become used to.
Did that not mean something?
"I'll be a Rainsford as long as you think me as family, Granny."

Her blue eyes were fixed on her granddaughter's face, "That's the first time you've called me Granny."

It was always Grandmother.
Even when she had been small, a little knock-kneed child with the brightest brown eyes- she had called her Grandmother.

Was she remembering correctly, though?

All the memories of then- they were hazy, and almost blurred. Every time she thought of that time, it was like looking through a pair of someone else's glasses.

Oh, she indeed was getting old.

She shrugged again, "Felt like the right moment."
It did. She was family. She was her grandmother.

"It sounds very strange." She said curtly. "But I like it, and you have my approval."

Well, at least she hadn't said permission, that would have set her off, because she did not need anyone's permission for anything.
Except for getting married, because no one under the age of twenty-one could get married in this country without the consent of their guardian.
"To call you Granny?"

"For both." She said, just as curtly- and then she rose from her seat, and walked to the mantelpiece.
Her frail hands gripped a picture-frame from there, and she brought it back to the sofa, sitting down once more.
"I'm not sure if you remember them much." She said, holding the frame out to her granddaughter. "You were very young when they passed."

Sanya said nothing, taking the frame in silence. She had seen the picture thousands of times, but she had never properly looked at it.
The photograph was in black and white, and of Cecelia- who had dark eyes and light brown hair in real life, with an angular jaw and prominent cheekbones- and Matthew- who was tall and slight, with ginger-red hair, green eyes, and large ears- Rainsford.

It had been taken in 1928, not long before they had left for their holiday in India.
They were in the spacious garden of their house in Surrey, their arms around each other, and they were smiling and waving at the photograph.
They looked happy.

If she had known them- if her alibi-story in this world had been true- she felt like she would have loved them.

"Mother doesn't look much like you."

"No. No, Cece took after her father." She smiled faintly, looking at the photograph. "When I was expecting, I did hope that our child took after my husband. I know, it must sound a strange hope-"

"No, it doesn't." She had hoped for the same when she'd been pregnant with Selene- that she looked like Edmund. And she had- she'd turned out so like her darling Papa. "I understand."

She hmm'ed, and went on, "She has my face shape, though. The jaw, the cheekbones- my dear Henry used to say they could cut glass."
She traced a finger over the photograph with a sigh.
"They met when they were in their twenties. Your mother was twenty-five- and your father two years older. My Cece was almost thirty by the time they married."
Such a difference from her own life- she had already been a mother ten years by the time she had been thirty. But she knew everyone had their own paths- and she had always supported her child, no matter what.

"I know." She had seen the wedding album- they had married in 1926. Almost exactly twenty years ago. "You can find love at any age, thirty or sixteen or even-" she squinted at her grandmother, "seventy-five?"

She ignored the unsubtle question, "It was for Cece's thirtieth birthday that they went to India. She was a great admirer of Rudyard Kipling- and that Tagore fellow, however you pronounce his name."

Rabindranath Tagore- that was the poet, right? She had read that he had given away some esteemed laurel because of his dedication to the fight for Indian independence.

"They were there for almost a year- I feared they would settle there permanently." She had still had her husband, then. If she had not, she didn't think she'd have been able to stand the loneliness. "But instead they came back with something permanent."

Sanya's lips twitched, "Me."

"You." She nodded. "I was not very understanding when they brought you home. You weren't theirs, you were from a country so far away- but they still loved you so much."

"You don't have to give birth to a child to love them with all your heart and soul." She said quietly, looking at the picture- and she thought of Jem, feeling that wave of grief again. "They're your child regardless of blood."

"I know that now." Maude said softly, and leaned her head against her granddaughter's for a moment. "You shan't be too lazy to not visit after your wedding, will you, my girl? Even when your name won't be Rainsford any longer?"

"Of course I'll visit." She promised, as she put the picture-frame in her grandmother's lap. Even if she and Edmund found the most fairytale-ish cottage, and even if their lives were as idyllic and content as possible- she would come here many, many times. Maude would end up being more sick of her than she could ever imagine. "Can't stay away from Sarah's fish-and-chips for too long."
--

"I don't like it." Edmund decreed, the moment they had stepped into the two-floor, three-bedroom house in Grantchester.

Sanya slapped a hand against her forehead, and the estate agent looked like he was about to kill himself.

The former King turned, shaking his head, "The only reason I gave this town a chance is because Virginia Woolf lived here-"

Exactly! Virginia Woolf lived here! What more did he want!?

"Is it me," Edmund took a step forward into the foyer, his head tilted up, "or is there a draft here?"

Sanya loved him, she loved him so much, but she was going to punch him.

The estate agent, Mr. Potter, wiped at his forehead with a handkerchief, and asked, "Is it another 'no', then, sir?"

Edmund turned, looking rueful, "I'm afraid so."

Before Sanya and Edmund had set out for the weekend of house-hunting, she had promised herself that she would be as decisive as was possible for her.

She had been promising herself to do things lately- it had begun when Eustace had told her of Caspian's death, and she had told herself that she would not show how devastated she was until she was alone.
Her sweet, too-tall, fiery nephew- the last family she had known, dead. He had died of old age, a better death that most got- and she knew he had been revived before entering Aslan's Country- but he had died, still. He had died, and he had been buried. He had died just after reuniting with his long-lost son. It was not fair.

She had managed to hide that pain somehow- a miracle, considering how many times that afternoon she had felt tears burn in her eye sockets- and she had told herself that at least he was survived by a son.
If Rilian was anything like Caspian, he would make Narnia and the Reza family proud.

Back to the house-hunting, because there were fewer chances of getting tearfully emotional with that.

In case of the very possible outcome that she couldn't pick her favourites- Edmund was there.

She wasn't very picky, and nor did she have regal tastes, despite being regal, so she had assumed she would love most of the houses- perhaps there would be a shortlist, and then her beloved would do the final picking.

She had not, in a thousand years, thought that Edmund would be the problem in the house-hunting.

The estate agent must have shown fifteen houses already, in several towns near and around Cambridge- and he had shot down every single one of them. The criticism of 'not enough rooms' was reasonable- but 'the roof is too high', and 'the windows were too big'? Who cared about the length and size of windows!?

"Car again?" She asked flatly, taking her husband-boyfriend-fiancé's hand as they followed Mr. Potter out of the house. "Where to next?"

The young lady Rainsford was a woman of very few words.
Usually, Ralph Potter didn't like the quiet, less-than-chatty ones. They bored and scared him.
But she was much better than the abominably shrewd critic she was engaged to.

"Er-" Mr. Potter looked down at the list he had compiled after weeks of careful research, "there's three houses in Elsworth- four in St. Ives- two in Great Shelford, but-"

"Only two?" Edmund asked suspiciously, his brows furrowed. "I thought Great Shelford was a large enough town."

"Oh, it is, but there aren't many houses up for sale- and Mrs. Rainsford insisted I only show you the best of the best."

Sanya shared a look with Edmund, before turning to the agent, "Our tastes are simpler than my grandmother's."

Mr. Potter nodded, as they reached the car that had been parked outside the front gate, "I know, that's why I haven't shown you any of the mansions."

Edmund didn't even know what to say to that.
He had to admit that he was glad Mr. Potter had chosen to not show them mansions. Considering his meagre income from his jobs in Cambridge- one being the errand-boy of the entire law faculty, and another being an assistant to a teaching assistant- he would probably cry if he even thought of a mansion.

Sanya yawned as they got into the car. She had been in the car since noon, since she had walked out of the Cambridge station, and she felt like she couldn't even remember what her room looked like anymore.
When would this END? She wanted to snuggle back into bed with her plushies and cosy blanket! And hopefully Edmund!
"Ed." She mumbled, pushing herself closer to him- they sat together in the backseat, Mr. Potter in the driver's seat. "Choose."

He glanced at her, and grinned, "You."

"A house!" She slapped his shoulder, pulling away. She usually spent car rides staring out the window, looking at the scenery, but clearly they needed to have this talk. "Why are you being such a picky prat?"

"Because you deserve the best, Moonshine." He spoke with a casual shrug- and his tone was almost as though that was obvious. It ought to have been obvious, he thought stubbornly. "I'm not choosing the first affordable house just because you want to go back home and cocoon yourself in bed."

She pouted, "But being cocooned in bed is so nice."
She kissed his throat- and then his jaw- he gulped- and then higher till she reached his lips.
Watching his eyes darken, she lowered her voice, "Especially when you're right there with me, little spoon."

He slid his hands into her hair, as she licked her lips- oh, this was such a foolproof way for her to win their spats.

Though he was the better and more rational debater, she always won them. That was because of her kisses or her pouts, and because he was too weak-willed when it came to arguing with her.

When it came to anything about her, actually.

But no. Not this time. He intended to stick to his resolve this time- even though her chapped lips were so very soft, and even though she had positioned herself in such a way that he could see down her blouse.
"It'll be better when we're cocooned together in a bed in our own home, Moonshine. And even better when the home is near-perfect."

She gave him a look, smacking his hands away- and she turned towards the window.

And she did not look away- not even when she bumped her head against the roof of the car, hissing in pain- not until they pulled into the street that apparently seemed to be home to the first approved-of-and-affordable house-for-sale in Great Shelford.

The street looked like a mix between being part of a town, and part of a village.
The houses were similar to those in Finchley, and if someone took away her glasses, she probably wouldn't have been able to tell much difference.

But she was wearing her glasses. The houses weren't in clusters, and nor were they in a row- between each house, there were large spaces, either in the form of side-streets or little fields that she was quite sure children would enjoy running through. And the streets were winding ones, like staircases! She loved it.

And from where she sat in the car, it appeared that some of the houses were miniature farms. She could see a cluster of baby chickens waddling across the front yard of one- and the house next door had a very sleek car parked in the driveway.

"We're here." Mr. Potter said listlessly.
He wasn't bothered by the fact that he was showing houses to teenagers, or even by them necking while he was mere feet away.
He was annoyed because he wanted to go home.
He usually got over with showings by two or three in the afternoon- but it was pushing five, and he was far from done. When Maude Rainsford had told him that he was to be at her granddaughter and her fiancé's disposal for the entire weekend, he'd hoped that they would choose a place on Saturday, and he would draw up the paperwork on Sunday, and that would be that.
But, alas, it seemed that it was not to be.
Goodness, he was getting a headache.

"That?" Sanya asked, opening the car-door and nodding at the large house that was directly in her eye-line.
It was ugly. She had no other word for it- it was an ugly house, with an oddly shaped roof, and the colour of it was too bright and almost eye-watering. Still, she was not good at saying no, so she would take the tour of it. Perhaps the inside was better- and the area was nice, after all-

"No, Ms. Rainsford." The estate agent said, as both his clients got out of the car. "It's a bit of a walk- cars do go there, but I'm not that skilled a driver. I'm afraid the house is rather secluded."

Edmund slid an arm around Sanya's waist, and whispered, "I like this one already."

She was still annoyed with him, so she did not respond- but she did blush, and let him keep his arm's comfortable position on her hip.

The walk was silent, but it was peaceful. The street they had parked on had been quiet, but as they walked away from it, it was even more so.
This part of Great Shelford seemed home to nature more than people. As they walked, she saw empty lots, with wildflowers and grass growing in it instead of any house erected on it- she saw a park, next to a bunch of small, cosy homes- and a grey, concrete, corporate building, which was most likely an office.
They passed an orchard on the way- there were apple blossoms on the trees, and the white-red of them against the green of the rest of the orchard made Sanya wish she could paint well.

"Are there general stores nearby?" Edmund asked, a few minutes into the walk. "For groceries, medicines, the necessities?"

Sanya rolled her eyes. He asked sensible questions, but she wanted to enjoy the walk instead of surrendering to reality- and so she carefully removed herself from his hold, and began to walk faster. They were walking too slow for her, anyway, it was getting annoying.

"Of course!" The estate agent answered promptly. "The general store is near the town centre, and they do deliveries to the entire town."

"That's good." He nodded, quite pleased. He knew he hadn't seen the actual house yet, but the surroundings were more than acceptable. "Are there schools? Nursery schools- primary, day, etc.?"
He knew it was more likely than not that they wouldn't have more children- but in the off-chance they did, he wanted to make sure this would be a good place for them to grow up in.
To think, they might have had another brown-haired baby with them during this very moment, if only tragedy had not struck Sanya once again that October night.

Mr. Potter nodded, "Yes, I believe there's a- ah, I forget the names, but there are three schools that are about a fifteen-minute walk from the house."

"And hospitals?" He asked- which was obviously a stupid question. If it was a university town, of course there would be hospitals around!

"Yes, there's Royal Papworth- and Addenbroke's-"

He was cut off by a sudden gasp from Sanya, who had gained quite a few metres on them.

"Is that it?" She asked, pointing ahead- yes, she knew that pointing was bad manners. "Is that the house?"
As they reached where she stood, Sanya reflected that she hated herself for the initial gasp, because that verbalised her feelings- but it was beautiful!

It was a cottage.
Much larger than the one in Snow White, and not in the middle of a forest- but it was a cottage, with the backyard and front yard wrapped around it in such a way that the estate seemed triangular.

The grounds were large, too- and she counted three trees in it, one behind the house, one by the gate, and one bowing next to its side, almost kissing the roof and one of the upper windows.
The roof was sloping and a pleasant brick-orange- the walls were grey-brown, and they had vines growing over most of the building, and there were flowers among the vines.

She could name jasmines- but she wasn't sure about the other. They even grew over the windows- one of the windows were covered with lavender-coloured flowers and reddish leaves that she had never seen.

"Ed-" She forget her fleeting annoyance with Edmund, and she grabbed his arm, feeling giddy. "Ed, darling, it's an actual cottage- like in Snow White- like we said-"

There was a quiet laugh from Mr. Potter.
"Your enthusiasm is heartening, but it's not a cottage, I hate to say. It's a farmhouse-"

Edmund raised a brow at him, "What's the difference?"

"Well, cottages are much smaller, Mr. Pevensie-"

His eyebrow went higher, "Can't we call it a large cottage, then?"

"I- er-" Mr. Potter had no argument for that. "Yes, I suppose. Yes, you could."
He cleared his throat for a good few moments, struggling to find a way to take control of the situation again. They had not taught how to handle smart-aleck teenagers when he had been studying for his license.
"Shall we go in, then?"

Sanya, who'd gone back to her mute self, looked at Edmund, waiting expectantly for him to answer in the affirmative.

But Edmund looked hesitant. Yes, for the first time that day, he had no criticism about the surroundings or the exteriors of the house- but the cottage before them couldn't possibly be even close to their price-range. What was the point of getting hopes up?
"What's it priced at?"

Again, Mr. Potter was taken aback. Money talk was usually after the house was shown.
"One moment." He said, and fished about in his pockets for the little diary the list was in- he didn't have the best mind for numbers, and it was always easier to write things down.
And then he named the price, which made Edmund blink and Sanya not react at all.

She didn't know what the normal price of houses in this world was. In fact, she didn't even know such for her world, either, because she had never had to go buy any. Perks of having lived in palaces and castles all her life.
Well, all of her first life.

"Really?" The once-Just asked, blinking once more. It wasn't a low price, not at all- but it was affordable. Very affordable, in fact.
It made no sense. How could such a beautiful house be priced at anything less than many, many, many thousands of pounds?
His eyes narrowed, "What's wrong with the house?"

"That's the thing." Mr. Potter shrugged. "Nothing's wrong."
He wasn't even lying. There was no point in it.
"Everyone loves it, but somehow, no one ever goes through with the transaction. We've had to keep lowering the price steadily, which is why it- frankly speaking- is quite the steal."

"It's not haunted, is it?" Sanya asked anxiously. "I don't believe in ghosts or spirits-" though she was now painfully aware that djinns existed, "or anything like that- but I don't want to risk it-"
She was afraid of the dark. Of course she was wary about entities that were apparently bred and lived in the dark, even if they weren't real.
The Canterville Ghost was one of her favourite stories in this world, but that didn't mean she wanted to experience the events of it in real life!

"No, no." If he had a penny for every time he had been asked that, he would have been able to buy all the houses he showed. "There's no cellar, and the attic is wonderfully airy- it would make a good spare bedroom, though there are already spare rooms. Nowhere for ghosts to live."

Edmund nodded, and then looked at his wife-girlfriend-fiancée. She was starting to love the house, he could tell- and he had to admit that so was he.
The house looked splendid. The estate agent didn't seem like he was lying. Why, then, was it affordable?
He hated to question a good thing- but he couldn't help it.
Sanya being part of the Rainsford family here- another good thing, and he had questioned that, too. But she had given him the answer to that herself- Aslan, or Poseidon, or both, wanted her to live a life of somewhat ease here. They had not told her so- but she had just known.
Could it be the same for this situation? Was Aslan helping?
It seemed so unlikely, but...
He murmured to himself, "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

"Can we go in?" Sanya asked- she wasn't sure if she was asking the estate agent or her husband-boyfriend-fiancé. She didn't care, she just wanted to go inside!

Edmund thanked Aslan, and nodded.

And so, they went in.

Mr. Potter kept a steady flow of commentary going, corresponding with whichever part of the cottage they were in. When they were in the sitting room, he spoke of how pleasant it would be to receive visitors in such a cosy place- when they were in one of the smaller rooms, he suggested that the couple could make it a study or a nursery- "A reading room, perhaps," Edmund said, and Sanya nodded, both blushing- when they were on the upper floor and in the largest bedroom, he spoke of the attached bathroom, and the lovely view from the window opposite where the bed would be.

It was when they were in the kitchen, that he said something unrelated to the space, and the house.
"Dear me," He gasped, and Sanya and Edmund looked back at him in surprise, "I forgot to take the keys out of the car!"
And without another word, he had turned and run away.

The former High Queen of Rihaaya snorted, "What a scatterbrain."

Edmund laughed, "Pot, kettle, Moonshine."

"Oh, chup." She rolled her eyes, before taking a deep breath. "Can I ask you something?"

He looked away from the larder- empty one- he had been inspecting, and nodded, "Of course."

"Did you complain about the high roof of that one house because you're scared that I'll try to kill myself again?"
She had tried to not think of it. Both of his complaint, and of the times when she had tried to kill herself.
But her mind rarely, if ever, allowed her respite.
Whenever she looked down from a high window- or was in proximity to a blade, any type of it- or even while having medicine for her headaches- she thought of dying. She thought of jumping down, or stabbing herself, or taking a fatal amount of tablets.
She wanted to succumb- but she did not. Hopefully it stayed that way.

He pursed his lips, "Partly. I'm sorry, Sanya, and I trust you, you know that- but I just can't help but worry."
He couldn't help but be afraid for her.

She was quiet for a few seconds.
She was leaning against the kitchen counter- surprisingly comfortable to lean against- and she bit her lip.
"I'm not- I'm not alright yet. I don't think I'll e-ever be." Was anyone ever wholly, truly alright? She doubted it. "But I'm happy more often that I'm- other things."
Because of you, she wanted to say.
But that was too much pressure to put on anyone. And, as he'd said- it wasn't only him who made her happy.
"Just- just know that you don't need to worry about that anymore, alright? I promise."

He nodded, a half-smile on his face. He didn't need to say anything- he was quite sure his relief was obvious and palpable. He believed Sanya- and he had meant it with the whole of his scabbed heart when he said he trusted her.

"Time for a topic that will probably make me feel the other things." The once-True said, and he looked puzzled. "What are your complaints for this house?"
She liked the cottage. She actually, really liked it- loved it, even, something that was oft-difficult for her to admit to. She had a clear preference- which meant she had decided. She had made a decision!
Now, it all came down to Edmund.

"Honestly, none." He rested his elbows on the kitchen island, and he looked at his wife-girlfriend-fiancée. "Nothing substantial, at least."

Oh! Happiness, then, not the other things.
"Then we're getting this one." She said immediately, and her voice was firm. "I love it, and you aren't complaining, which is more than either of us expected."
She moved away from the counter, and to Edmund. Her tone had been grim, but she was grinning now.
"We'll sign the papers-" Sanya wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing the freckles on his chin, "force Susan to decorate- and then we'll be living in this cottage in a few months."
She'd have to leave her job- one of the few drawbacks of moving near Cambridge. She wondered if she'd miss the animals more, or if they would miss her more.

"I have one problem with that." Edmund said- he sounded quite cross, and she felt that it was likely that she'd be annoyed again. "We need to have final say over whatever furniture my sister chooses."

Sanya smiled even wider, and kissed him properly this time. She had intended it to be a short, chaste kiss of contentment and gratitude-
But his hands found the garter of her stockings, and she murmured something indecent into his mouth, and they both knew any chances of chasteness was long gone.

With a strength that surprised him, Edmund lifted Sanya up onto the kitchen island- and she wrapped her legs around his waist, still kissing.

They were in love, they were together, and their future seemed more secure than ever.

And even if they didn't have any of that- it wasn't like they needed a reason to make love, anyway.

She smiled lazily, as he pulled away to undo his belt, "We're christening the cottage, are we?"
She was half-prostrate on the surface of the kitchen island- it was cold, but it was almost as comfortable as the kitchen counter had been. All she needed was for him to be inside her, and she would be oh-so satisfied.

"If that wasn't clear already." He snorted- only half his attention was on his trousers, though, he was quite transfixed by the top buttons of her dress that she was undoing.
He was glad her little flirting strategy in the car had already seemed to have made them both very amorous and wanton- they didn't have much time.
"Did I mention how glad I am that you're wearing a skirt?"

"Less talking." She murmured- Edmund's trousers were around his knees, and her skirt was bunched around her waist, while her knickers hung around her calves. She straightened up, and he moved closer, and- she was tight and wet all at once for him, just as he was hard and throbbing for her. "More- fuck-"

Edmund had wrapped one arm around her as he'd entered her, rougher than usual- the thumb and index of his other hand rubbed furiously at her clit, and her mouth fell open in dizzying pleasure. His wife-girlfriend-fiancée was so warm, and so- so perfect around him- he wished he could stay this way forever.
But he couldn't, because if he didn't move, if he didn't thrust in and out of her, he would likely die.
A divine way to die, perhaps- his eyelids fluttered, close to the cliff of the orgasm- but one most difficult to explain to his family.
"So- so good-"

Sanya bucked her hips for him, taking him deeper into her sex- and he moaned.
Ecstatic euphoria, she thought- how could she even think, with her whole body, their bodies, both of them, being driven closer and closer to orgasms- and she had to kiss him again- he had his fingers on her clit, but, oh, she wanted to touch him, to lick him- and she wanted his mouth on hers as she came, and as he did, too-

"Fancy that," Mr. Potter was chuckling to himself, as he walked inside the house, and to the kitchen, where he had left the two children, "the keys were in my- oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!"

Sanya's chest was bare, Edmund's arse was on display, and they were currently, literally one.
He didn't have time to pull out of her- and she wasn't sure if she could wriggle away from him without sliding off the island and falling onto the floor.
They shared a look- they were both red-cheeked, and frustrated because of how close they had been, and very mortified.

Sanya nodded at her husband-boyfriend-fiancé, pulling her hand away from his hair to cover her chest.

Edmund promptly turned his head back to look at Mr. Potter- and he spoke commendably composedly, given the situation, "We'd like to buy this house."
--

Sanya could not figure out what the song was.
She knew she had heard it before- but the name kept slipping away from her, and it made her head buzz maddeningly again.
And Mina's sulky comments were not helping!

"You should have ironed the dress." The blonde sniffed, her eyes fixed on the way her friend kept fidgeting with the skirt of her satin dress. Whatever was the fidgeting for? It already covered her till her knees. "The creases distracted from how pretty the neckline is-"

"Mina." She'd endured six minutes of this- she had had more than enough. "I know red is your favourite colour, but I wanted to wear this dress. So, I'm sorry, but shut up."
It was true that the neckline was pretty, though. It was like two waterfalls wrapped around her shoulders and meeting at her breasts in a deep 'v'.

"You two are still on about that?" Bonnie asked sleepily from her chair behind them. She'd been taking a nap- Susan had dragged her all around the enormous house, and she was very tired. "My input on the topic is 'shut up, Mina'."

Mina pursed her lips, her nose twitching, and she turned to look around at the rest of the party.

Sanya waited for her to say something- but she didn't. Knowing her, she rightly assumed that she would not be speaking for a good few minutes.

"I'm going to go get a drink." Bonnie said, yawning, as she pushed herself out of her chair. "I need to wake up, my God, I can't be this sleepy in the afternoon."

Mina might've murmured something that was 'I'll throw a drink in your face and that'll wake you up' but Sanya was too deaf to hear it and Bonnie too drowsy.

"Bye, Bon." Sanya waved, smiling at her best friend. "Don't get too drunk- or do, it would be fun to watch!"

She heard Bonnie's laugh, and then saw a fist being shaken in her direction from feet away.

The smile went away as she disappeared from view, and Sanya bit her lip.
She fiddled with the moon necklace that lay nestled across her scar- it had been concealed with pounds and pounds of make-up- and she cast her glance at the party, too.

She, Bonnie until a minute ago, and Mina were under one of the many canopy-umbrella-tents that was strewn around the garden- they were at the Rainsford mansion in Notting Hill, not far from Finchley, where Maude had lived with her husband until his death.

The backyard of the manse was half the size of a rugby field- and yet, it was almost full with people.

It was a tasteful set-up.
The marquee-tent with the food was set up near the back-entrance of the mansion, but the rest of it was almost open space, giving freedom to the surplus of people to enjoy themselves. Some danced, some chatted, others just milled about or drank from underneath the comfort of the shade.

Laughter and joy were in the air, the sun was shining- "I say it's an Easter miracle," Lucy had decreed- and the flower-bushes that lined the garden were blooming and radiant.

And Sanya was hiding under a canopy-umbrella-tent.

She was pretty sure that it wasn't actually called a canopy-umbrella-tent- but when she had asked Edmund about it, he had choked on his drink and gone purple, and he had had to excuse himself to the washroom.

It wasn't until later that she realised that his reaction had not been because of her question, but because that was the first time he had seen her at the party- and consequently, in her dress.

It was red, off-the-shoulders and with a deep neckline- the only polarising part of it, for her, was the skirt.
The points in its favour was that it was a tulip skirt and those were her favourite flowers- and that the skirt made it seem like her wide hips were actually just the style of the waistline.
The point not in its favour was that everyone thought that her wide hips ("Perfect for childbirth!" an irksome healer had told her once) were what was making her dress look like that, even though it was simply the make of the dress.

It wasn't the usual sort of thing that people wore here, and it was dissimilar to most of what Sanya had ever worn- but she really liked the dress.
She couldn't explain it. It was bold, and beautiful- and it made her feel like she was the courageous and vivacious protagonist in a book. When something made her feel like that- how could she not like it?

But, as a testament to the fact that she was not courageous or vivacious, she was cowering in the very corner of the party, keeping an eye out for her grandmother. If Maude found her, she would march her out and make her play hostess.

Because- she technically was the one hosting the party.
Both she and Edmund were.

Mina carefully moved some hair to hide her forehead, and she looked at her friend.
Her small mouth was less pursed. She was finally going to speak.
"Well, you're the bride and it's your engagement party." She could try to not be an affected little twat for just a few hours.
She defended Sanya from everyone, and that included her- and she had promised herself to be a good, selfless friend for once in her life.
Not just to prove her parents and old 'friends' and societal associates- but because she truthfully cared deeply about Sanya. In many ways, the Indian girl was her first real friend.
"And you look really lovely- I'll let you have red for today."
Points for trying?

"Very kind of you." She snorted- and she was prepared to let the matter lie.
But that old insecurity gripped her by the throat again.
"Do- do I really look fine?" She asked, nervously clutching the silver crescent pendant dangling at her neck. "My hair looks weird-" Susan had made her thin, straight, smooth hair voluminous and wavy, which she was frankly sure had to be some form of magic, "and the make-up is heavy on the face-" to be fair, the eye-shadow had been needed to hide her crows' feet, "and the dress isn't-"

Mina reached out and patted her arm.
She smiled at her- a proper, wide smile, as opposed to her usual maddening smirk- and said, "I don't go throwing around false compliments, dear girl. You do look- no, you are very pretty."
She was not a beauty who would have poems written about her- but Sanya had other qualities, fine ones, which deserved epics and songs written about.

"Thanks." She quirked a smile at her, and patted her hand back.
She wished Bonnie was still sitting with them. But even more, she wished Edmund was there. She felt foolish sitting-

'Fools Rush In'! Yes, that was the song that had been playing.

The relief she felt was staggering, and she actually slumped back in her chair.
She had no intention of dancing, and the song wasn't one of her favourites- but that would have been a wonderful song for the soon-to-be-married couple to sway around to.

Although it was their engagement party- as in, celebrating the news of their togetherness that would soon become official and legal- she had hardly seen Edmund. They'd spoken after he had returned from the bathroom, and he had stammered out how beautiful she looked. She'd blushed, and kissed him in front of a group of people who had definitely been born in the middle of the previous century- and she had whispered how handsome he looked, too, and that she was glad he had worn a blue shirt under his suit-jacket, because red and blue were meant to be together.
Just like they were.

After that, they had taken pictures when the photographer had come hounding, and had been sitting together for about ten minutes; they politely and unwillingly smiled at all who came over to offer their congratulations, all the while wishing to be left alone with each other.
She was really glad she had skipped out early from the pre-wedding feast back in Rihaaya, a thousand years ago. Pax- unnamed though the sword had been then- would have spilled blood.
Or- not. She had been different, then. Just as lazy and reckless- but much less violent. Less insane, too- at least somewhat? She wasn't sure.

Sanya had got up to go see if Bonnie and Susan were done with their tour of the mansion- they were, and her best friend looked dead on her feet- and when she had come back, she had found Edmund missing.

She'd panicked instantly, and she had gripped her necklace so tight she had almost sliced her hand open- again- but she had found him soon enough.

Her grandmother was parading him around and presenting 'that boy'- also known as the groom-to-be- to her high-society friends and acquaintances.

She'd felt very bad for him- but that was also the moment she had slipped far away from anywhere Maude could see, lest the same fate befall her.

She wasn't sure if he was still with her, or if he had managed to escape, but she wasn't about to risk looking for him.

Her husband-boyfriend-fiancé could thrive in situations like that, and make use of his diplomacy and charm and silver tongue. She, on the other hand, was always either mute, finding nothing else to say, or she stuttered so much the event was over before she had finished the sentence.

Besides, she had already- unfortunately- met most of the people her grandmother had invited.

A tall woman, with fading blonde hair due to old age, reached their table.
She smiled down at Sanya, "Hope I'm not intruding, Sanya."

"No, not at all, La- um, Polly."
She had only just met the old lady today. Edmund had said she had gone to Narnia with Professor Kirke, who'd been unable to make it today- there were some important things to settle with his bank.
Yes, Professor Kirke had finally told Peter, Edmund, and Lucy the story of how and his friend, Polly, had been to Narnia- before Narnia was even created, technically.
Her past visit there was why Sanya had greeted her by calling her Lady Polly the first time they had met.
Polly Plummer had laughed, and said she was only Polly here.
"Can I help you with s-something?"

"Oh, if you could be so kind."

"I can try?"

"That man-"
Sanya looked over in the direction she was nodding at- oh, it was the fellow who ran the bookshop she and Edmund had frequented while in school!
"We've been speaking about antiques for about half an hour-"

Mina snorted, "Don't say you have a crush on him. You're too old for crushes."

Polly looked affronted, and before they could come to blows, Sanya spoke hastily, "He owns the bo-bookshop near school. What about him?"

"Er- what's his name?" Polly looked deeply embarrassed- and she sounded so, too, as she went on, "He said it at the beginning of the conversation, but I was distracted by a bird-"

"It's Trevor." Sanya said- she could understand distraction. "Not sure about the last name. Also, don't talk to him about hunting. His family's big on it, and he dislikes the s-subject."

Polly had had no intention to speak about that particular subject, but she appreciated the heads-up all the same.
"Thank you, Sanya." She bent down- despite her age, she was not stooping, and remained as stately as ever- and kissed the cheek of the Queen from another world. "Oh, and after my house gets renovated- I'd love to have you and Edmund come for a visit. Perhaps lunch sometime?"

"Oh, sure." Social outings. Wonderful. "Of course, we'd love to."

She smiled, "Congratulations, again."
Polly proceeded to give Mina a withering look- the younger woman ignored her, staring into the distance instead- before walking away.

Polly Plummer was one of Edmund's guests- something Sanya was surprised by. She had not thought that her grandmother would invite anyone from Edmund's list, apart from his family.

But she had!

Maude had invited fewer of her society people and associates than she had expected- and she'd invited almost every single person that Sanya had ever been spoken to during her time in England.
It made sense, since Sanya- unlike her husband-boyfriend-fiancé- had not made a guest-list for the engagement party, so her grandmother had found people on her own- but it was still too much.

Her ex-dorm-mates were here, blinking owlishly at the mansion and at the entire party.
Not far from them, stood a group of boys- which included Clarke, John Patterson and some of the other boys from Edmund's rugby team, along with a few acquaintances he had made in Cambridge- they were on their Easter break.
Bobby, the little budding photographer, was here- he and Meghan were playing hide-and-seek with Alfie, Bonnie's brother, and Jill, while Eustace protested that he did not want to be the seeker.
Nick- or, Dr. Wright, as he was formally known- was here, too, and he was slow-dancing with Evelyn Potts, formerly the bride-to-be's form-mistress, even though the music being played by the live band currently was fast.
Sarah and Ella were in a corner, close together, drinking wine and laughing.
Sabrina, Ha-eun and Gabriella had come, too, and they mingled in different parts of the party, quite at ease and seeming to have fun.
Some of the zookeepers from her work had attended, too- they were talking with Ms. Hollis Earnshaw, whose fine arms were bared in the yellow sundress she wore.
But Sanya didn't focus on that, though she had gawked blatantly for a good few seconds- she was distracted by her extreme disappointment that her colleagues had brought no animal companions with them.
Even Mamzelle Alláire was here, which Sanya knew because Susan had hissed in her ear that the modern-day equivalent of the three witches from Macbeth had arrived.

Sanya did not know how exactly her grandmother had known about them all, but she did resolve to keep her diary hidden from then on.
Though, if she had read her diary, she would have shipped her off to an insane asylum, not thrown her an engagement party.

Peter strolled up to their tent, the sunlight making his blond hair glint, and the bluebell that acted as his pocket-square matched his eyes.
Susan, despite their passive animosity, had very obviously had a hand in his getting ready.
"I suppose I can't be surprised that you've chosen the most secluded spot, bitchy bride."

"Don't be rude." Lucy soon followed, nudging her brother's shoulder.
Her hair had been curled painstakingly into ringlets, and the yellow ribbon in her hair matched her dress. She looked absolutely beautiful, and was made even more so by her bright smile.
"And you two-" She looked at the bride and the blonde, and lifted the camera- it was hanging off her neck, "smile!"

Mina had smiled instantly, tilting her head so that the good side of her face was visible- but Sanya was unsure if she had cringed away from the bright flash, or she had smiled forcedly, or if her expression was between both.
"I've gone blind." She muttered, putting her hand over her eyes. "I was mostly blind, and now I'm completely blind-"

Her friend smacked her hand away from her face.
"You'll ruin your eyeliner."

Sanya scowled at Mina, and Peter took the chance of the sudden silence to clear his throat.
"Mina, right?" He asked- it was difficult to keep track of all the by-association people he knew. "Want to dance?"

She blinked very rapidly, "With you?"

"No one else is saying yes." Lucy said- she missed Peter's furious head-shake, which hinted that that was supposed to be a secret. "I think Edmund went around telling everyone that Pete is a terrible dancer."

Sanya stifled a laugh, and said, "Well, he is a terrible dancer, and that's coming from me-"

Her brother-in-law looked extremely indignant, "I've been practicing!"

"Aren't you old?" Mina was more occupied with the identity of the man who'd asked her to dance, as opposed to his dance skills. "Thirty, or something?"

Sanya laughed so hard she began to choke on air.

Peter gave Mina a look of deep irritation, "I'm twenty-two."

"Oh." She peered up at him critically. "I am a fresh flower of eighteen."

"I'm not asking you to bloody marry me- you know what, never mind."
Girls! Boys! Everyone! All so aggravating.
Yes, he knew he was being a little too impatient and quick to temper, like his old self.
But he had been rather down in the dumps since Eustace had told him that Caspian had married a Star, had a son, and then died, too- and this was how he was processing it.
It had been sorrow first, and now it was bursts of anger.

The only reason he hadn't gone to pieces was that he had accepted this. He did not know entirely how Narnian time worked, even now- but he knew that it was likely that one year passing in this world could be twenty years in Narnia, or even two thousand years.

He turned to the bride.
Though his siblings had been very saddened by the news- Ed and Lu had spent a lot of time with his beloved, after all, and they'd become a little trio, in addition to family- Sanya was the only other one who had been as affected by Caspian's death as he.

However, her loved ones dying had become so common a tale for her, she had hardly even reacted on the outside.

Currently, she was coughing because of her laughing fit, because obviously his dancing was better than any joke magazine, and Lucy was patting her back.

He wished, for a long moment that made his heart pang, that Caspian was here. He wouldn’t have had to search for a dance partner if he had been here- every dance, every moment, he would have been by his side.
He hoped he would have, at least.

But he wasn’t here, and Peter could not dance or be with him, he could only grieve for him.

Both of the loves of his life dead, and he still lived.

The former Magnificent King would have to settle for the only other person who was bad at dancing, then, and the only other person who had connected with Caspian almost as much as he had, albeit in a different way.

"San, you?"

She coughed some more, before managing, "F-for the safety of everyone here, no."
She looked at Mina, who was staring at the grass. Peter being four years older was not the only reason she had reacted so unfavourably to his request for a dance.
"No one can see them, you know."

"I know that-" She sniffed like a dramatic toddler with a cold, "but the fact that they're there is awful enough- especially on a day like today!"

"I feel compelled to remind you again that this is my engagement party, and not yours."

"Exactly, it's my dear friend's engagement party, and it happened today-"

Peter looked perplexed, "What happened?"

No one paid him any attention.

The once-True kicked her friend's chair, "Just go have fun."

Mina pouted, "But I don't want people to see my pimples!"

"Oh, is that why you're camped out here with Sanya?" Lucy asked, looking curious and sorry. Sanya, she understood- she had seen her hiding during Balls often enough- but Mina thrived at events like this. "I promise you, no one cares about your pimples."

Peter squinted at the younger blonde, "I can't even see any pimples. I'm not going into dermatology, but I'm pretty sure a dermatologist would call your skin flawless. You're paranoid, is all. "

Mina stared at the eldest Pevensie for a moment, her face strangely blank.
Then she got to her feet, grabbed his hand, and dragged him off to- presumably- dance.

"And then there were two." Sanya said, smiling at Lucy, who giggled at the sight of her brother being carted off. "Enjoying the party?"

"I'm enjoying the photography." She said cheerily, and then lifted the camera again. "Smile!"

This time at least, Sanya was assured that she had smiled. Probably very weirdly, but she had.
"Your cinema-roll will be over." She spoke casually, as her sister-in-law slipped into the seat Mina had vacated. "Remind me to get you many, many, many rolls of it for your birthday."

"Film-roll, you mean."
Lucy had been grinning for a while- but her smile quickly turned wistful.
"I'll be seventeen, imagine. I know I've already been it once- but it still feels like an all-new experience, because I'm turning seventeen in this world." A sigh escaped her lips. "I miss Narnia."

Sanya took hold of Lucy's hand for a moment.
"I miss home, too."

She squeezed her hand back, "At least you have Edmund- oh, Edmund!"

"Have you seen him, Lu? I'm a little worried that-"

"I saw him walking that side." She said, waving a hand towards the end of the backyard, many metres away, where the lawn tapered off towards a rocky path that led to the nearby lake. A large wall-like topiary, with a door-sized gap in it for people to go through, separated the backyard of the mansion and the surroundings of the lake.
"He said something about needing a break from old people's smell-"

"Old people do smell."

"But he looked upset- so I came to find you, and then Peter was there, and I just- I got distracted." She shook her head at herself. "I'm just so- incapable-"

"You're one of the most capable people I know." She spoke casually again, but with a definite edge to it.
Partly because of her rapidly-intensifying concern for Edmund- but partly because she had to make Lucy believe what she said, because it was the truth. She was the True- who else but she to make someone so dear to her believe the truth? "Honestly, Lu. A healer, a Queen, a warrior, a wonderful friend and sister and daughter? All at once? You're like one of those Renaissance men Potts was talking about while we did Doctor Faustus."

She had not yet studied Doctor Faustus, but that didn't stop Lucy's eyes from brimming with tears- and, immediately, she leaned forward to hug Sanya.
"I love you so much." She whispered to her sister, wishing so badly that she could see her how she did. She knew better than anyone what not feeling like one was enough or worthwhile was like. "Now, go look for Edmund-"

"No, no, I can't leave-"

"I promised a group of toddlers I would take their picture." She said, getting to her feet- Sanya did, too, and she kissed her cheek. "I hope Ed's alright- I'll see you both in a bit."

Sanya watched her go and disappear into the crowd- and then she turned around, looking at where the once-yet-still-Valiant had gestured to.

She hoped no one saw that the bride-to-be was leaving the party, and that no one had noticed that the groom-to-be had already left. After almost three decades of being High Queen, she knew it was not exactly meet to be abandoning your own party.
But she cared a lot more about her beloved than about what the guests thought.

She slipped off her heels- they were the height of beautiful fashion, but were so fucking rough on her feet and were very inconvenient to walk on natural ground with.

Carrying them in her hands, she made her way towards where hopefully her husband-boyfriend-fiancé was.

The grass was so soft and soothing to her feet- she felt like she could melt into it. In fact, she wanted to sink into it, to become one with the earth, and let flowers and plants grow all over her. She could lie down and fall asleep for a few years- and she would have, had she not had something to do.

Sanya found Edmund a few minutes later, sitting on a grassy patch of land a few feet away from the lake.

The lake was small- more a pond, really- and she felt calmed just standing by the steady ripples that moved over the surface of the lake.
The water reflected the sky in it, and both were a tranquil light blue. A colour that was no doubt calming him.

"You know." She called, and she saw his dark head whip around in surprise. "I'm supposed to be the antisocial recluse who hides from gatherings in this relationship."

In spite of himself, Edmund smiled.
"Is that so? What do I bring to the table, then?"

"Hm." She reached where he was sitting, and crouched down next to him. "You're the charismatic introvert who doesn't like conversing, but is still ma-masterful at it."

"You have me all figured out, my love."

"Not all, but it's just what happens when you spend a thousand years being in love with someone." She shrugged, giving him a little smile. "I mean, I was asleep for a lot of that, but the rest of it- baapre, did I overthink."

"A folly that runs in both of us." He shrugged back, before glancing to her position. She wasn't sitting with her legs crossed, easily the most comfortable position- she sat with her knees folded underneath her, her hands resting on her upper thighs. Just looking at her sitting like that was making his lower half hurt. "Sit comfortably, Moonshine, the grass is-"

"I can't. I mean, I physically can't." Sanya said, and tugged at the hem of her dress.
Tulip skirts were very pretty, but if she tried to sit how she wanted to, her skirt would ride up to her hips and everyone would see the birthmark on her thigh as well as the pattern of the flowers on her knickers. She did not want that.
"Won't let me sit cross-legged, or in any comfortable position. Honestly, that's probably the only reason Maude didn't say a word against me wearing this dress," she had been so sure that she would reprimand her for wearing a dress with such a low neckline, "because it keeps me from sitting with my legs wide open."

There was another wolfish grin on his face, "I like it when your legs are open."

"Because they're usually open for you." She smirked at him, before poking his suit-jacket-covered arm. "And if you want that to happen again, darling, you'll tell me what's wrong."

"Noth-"

"Ed."

"I want to say sorry first."

She looked surprised. It was usually she who did something stupid and which needed to be apologised for.
"What happened?" She hoped that it was not anything like when he'd apologised on the Christmas before last for not warning her about the limitations of contraception a thousand years ago. "Wait, is that why you're upset?"

"Partly, yes. You know I sort of dis-" no, no, he could not say disappeared, that would not go down well, "I was away for most of the day before?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I had to listen to Maude tell the exact social hierarchy of her very vast web of acquaintances."

He bit his lip to keep from laughing, "Sorry for that, too, but-"

Sanya scowled, "She had me take a test!"

"Oh." Edmund winced. "Very, very sorry. Anyway, I was in London- yes, alone- and I was looking for something."

She looked intrigued now, "For what?"

"Something Indian." He said, looking away from her. He didn't know what expression would be on her face, and he was slightly afraid. "Anything- anything that was reminiscent of a Rihaayan make- bangles, necklaces, even a shawl- I was hoping you could wear it at the wedding-"

"Ed-"

"I know how much you miss Rihaaya." He turned to Sanya- her lips were pressed tightly together and her eyes were soft. What a contrasting expression- how was he supposed to understand how she felt about this!? "And I hate that you have nothing of it. You don't even have anyone to talk the language with, because I didn't bother to learn more than a couple of phrases."
And it was all because of him. Because she loved him.
"I wanted you to have something that reminded you of home, something that was truly yours."

She wanted to offer to teach him whatever she remembered of the Rihaayan tongue, like she'd taught Bonnie. But it had been so difficult to teach her best friend those few basic words- and most of those, he already knew. She wasn't cut out to be a teacher, especially about something she had not experienced for a millennium.
"And- and did you find something?"
It wouldn't be of Rihaaya- but, like he said, it would remind her of her country. That was what was important. A reminder of home.

"No, I'm afraid. I must have walked half the city, but- nothing." He shook his head, swallowing and feeling even worse. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's not your fault, darling. And while I would have loved something like that, it's not a need." She moved slightly closer, resting her head against his for a moment. "I told you, I don't need anything else. I just need you. I want to be yours, that's it."

"All I want is to be yours, too." He said, pressing his lips to hers for a short moment. "I still-"

"Oh, chup," Sanya rolled her eyes- a hard thing to do, when she still felt his tender kiss on her lips- before shifting away, "and tell me the rest of why you're upset."

Edmund grumbled under his breath. He didn't know how to say it, because he didn't know well enough what he was about to say.
But he had an inkling of it- and he was talking to Sanya, after all. His expressions of thought could be utterly disjointed and insipid, but she would still understand.
"I just feel very, very bad."

"Why?"
It had better not be because of what he had just told her.

He nodded towards the topiary-wall, "The party."

Sanya shook her head, "Gran is throwing it for us, you don't need to worry about the expenses- and I know you think of it as charity, but this is one of her wedding gifts, so you shouldn't be bothered by-"

"It's not that. Not- completely." He bit his lip. "You know how Maude has been walking me around like a show-pony, right?"

She nodded.

"Well, in midst of that, I spoke to a man who runs one of the biggest law firms in the country- I think his wife and Maude run in the same social circles- and he said he'll see about paid internships for me next year-"

"That- that is great!"
She leaned in to kiss him, and she felt him smile slightly against her lips as he deepened the kiss.
Not even five seconds later, she pulled away and smacked his arm.
He looked very taken aback and pouted out of mild hurt- but she paid no heed to his kicked-puppy expression, even though it was very, very cute.
"Are you seriously sad because you got offered a pseudo-job-"

"No, no." He had actually had to drink a whole glass of water after the old lawyer had offered him that- because if he had not, he would have squealed. Probably turned a few cartwheels, too. "I'm very happy about that."

"Then?"

He sighed, and nodded in the direction of the party.
"I wasn't looking forward to this-"

Yes, neither was she.

"I was actually right annoyed when we were coming here." He had come with his siblings and parents- his wife-girlfriend-fiancée had come separately. "Dad had to pull me to the side and ask me to fix my face before we went in."

She kissed his cheek, "But I like your furrowed brows and frowny face."

He smiled again, faintly, and said, "It was actually when I saw you that I stopped frowning."
He had started choking after that...
"You look- you look like a dream."

The look in her eyes was tender, and she smiled a little, "A dream only you'd have."

"A dream only I'm privileged to have." He corrected promptly.
Then his smile faded, and he looked back at the lake.
"After that, I started enjoying the party- more than I had thought I would. Even when your grandmother cornered me, I wasn't bothered-"

She could not help interjecting, half-teasingly, "I'll be telling her to take you to her soirees instead of me."

"Ne sois pas méchant, Moonshine." Edmund spoke with an eye-roll- of all the times to be naughty. "Then John came up to me-"

"Patterson?"
As far as she knew, there was no other John at the party- although there was a Jonathan he knew from university, he had introduced her to him- but she had to make sure, because the one second of him speaking French had almost turned her brain into mush.

He nodded, "He was pretty drunk, and he kept trying to steer me towards your dorm-mates- I think he has a thing for May-"

Well. She would have to let May know that somehow, wouldn't she? Perhaps it was a different rugby player who was in the cards for her.
Oh, Oscar had not come to the party- he had written to Edmund to apologise for his absence, and that he would try to make it to the wedding, though it seemed doubtful. Sanya wished he had come- she wanted to say sorry, properly, and because Edmund would have been happy to have a friend here.
"Did something happen with him?"

"He- he told me it must be nice to have everything I could want." His voice was steady- but as he went on, it quavered. "And I- I realised he was right."

Maybe the uncomfortable position she sat in was making her even more stupid, but Sanya honestly could not see the problem with that. If Ed had everything he could want- it ought to make him happy.

"I do have every-" Edmund broke off- because it wasn't everything, he had lost his children and his true home, "almost everything I could want. I do- I have you, my family, Cambridge, and I live where I was born-"

"That's not a bad thing. You deserve all of that."

"That's just it. If I deserve it-" which he didn't think he did, he never would, "you deserve it so much more."

He was upset on her behalf?
"Ed, I don't-"

"You should have your family here." Brown eyes stared into brown. "And your horse, and your sword, and your crown. You shouldn't have miscarried, and you deserve none of the pain you've suffered through. And- and- even if you can't have a reminder of home, you should feel like this is home to you, even a bit."

Sanya didn't know what to say.
She stared at the lake again, as her mind shifted between thinking of what to respond with and focusing on the reflection of the cloud shaped like a mango.
"I- I can't argue against that," because she did need and deserve all that, and she would always long for it, "but that- that's not your fault."
She should have realised. Especially with all his fervent critiquing of the houses they had looked at, and his reason for that- she should have known how awful he felt.
She could understand how he felt- she felt it, too, all the time. That all the terrible things were her fault.
But for her, it was the truth. For him to feel it, it was injustice.

"But it is!" He argued- none of this would have happened, if not for him. She would have been so much happier if she had never loved him- back in Narnia, and even here. "If- if you didn't think that I was your everything-"

"Edmund."

The tone of her voice made him stop his impassioned argument- which he'd barely begun- and focus on only her. She was looking at him again, her lips still turned down and her bright eyes subdued.

"You're not everything."
Sanya shifted closer to him- almost falling over as she did- and she rested her head against his.
"But you're enough." She whispered, wishing so badly that she could articulate better just how important he was to her. "More than enough."

He gazed at her, in love and wonder and awe, and she looked back at him with a smile, borne of those exact emotions.

He did not need to say anything back.
And she understood that.

They were quiet for a long time.

Sanya untucked her legs, and spread them out before her- she had to keep them firmly pressed together, because if she spread them even a bit, her skirt would ride up- and Edmund wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to him.
The wind rustled past the pair, through the trees, and caused more ripples on the water's surface.
The sky began to darken to the red before sunset- and for one perfect moment, it was in a perfect harmony of blue and red, the shining lake reflecting the union of the two core colours.

He murmured, "Let's stay here until someone realises we're missing and finds us."

She sighed contentedly, nodding, "Or until we get hungry."

"I'm already hungry, actually..."

"Yes, me too-"

-
-✧･: °*✧*°:･✧-
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Keira Knightley as Cecelia Rainsford

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Domhnall Gleeson as Matthew Rainsford

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Elijah Wood as Mr. Ralph Potter

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Laura Dern as Polly Plummer

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(Sanya should have had these adopted parents :"") I think they would have really loved her.)
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(I envision the cottage as a mix between Vine Farm, which is a very real farmhouse in Cambridge, and Anathema Device's cottage in Good Omens, the TV Show.
Yes, I know I should seek help.)
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(Nothing non-platonic will happen between the two chaotic blondes, but if it DID, I imagine a similar scenario would play out 💀💀💀)
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(THEM>>>>)
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(This is literally Sanya singing to Edmund. 'I'm a stormy Ocean, but you're steady'???? Is that not something she would actually say???)
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KEIRA MOTHERFUCKING KNIGHTLEY. YES, I had to include the QUEEN OF PERIOD DRAMAS somehow or the other in this fic. I had to. I would have liked to give her a major role, but there wasn't anything to give, so I thought WHY NOT make her the faceclaim of the reason why Sanya has a comfortable life in this world?
And I like Domhnall Gleeson, so I thought why not. And, yeah, his character DID 10000% take his wife's last name, because yes.

Also.
What the fuck, this chapter is 12K words. What the actual fuck.
I mean- the scenes in this are lengthy. So, makes...sense?
😬

Maude is Granny to Sanya now 🥺 that is very cute. Family is important- the family you choose, I mean, which can either be the family you are born into or the family you find.
And I think Sanya is the only person in the world that Maude lets her guard down around, so that is even more sweet. And I think it also works as found family?
Sanya is a Reza by birth, a Pevensie by marriage, a Rainsford by alibi. Three last names, DUDE.

Edmund and Sanya having sex in the house before they have even bought the house feels very on-brand. Poor realtor, he just wanted to get away from work 😭😂

Polly! I think that's me having included every non-Pevensie Friend of Narnia in this book?
Jill, Eustace, Digory, Polly. Yep, good. I think Polly originally didn't have lines in the first draft of this chapter, but I just HAD to include it, yk.
I hope I wrote her fine? It has been ages since I read the books, and besides, her as a child would be really different to her as an old lady.

Mina holds onto the colour red like we all hold onto fiction. Like it's our air.
Which is basically is.
And, no, nothing is going to come out of the interaction between Peter and Mina, but I think they would be a cutely volatile couple if something did.

Edmund walking all around London, which I believe is a pretty massive city, just to find something Rihaayan-looking for the love of his life?
WHERE will I, or ANYONE, find someone like that out of fiction??? See what I meant when I said fiction is air?
Seriously, don't settle for less.

I'm not sure how much Sanya has moved on from the 'EDMUND IS EVERYTHING TO ME', but I think she has. He's enough for her, he's her true love, but he's not everything. He's not all that makes her happy, though he is a big part of it.
And they can once again communicate so well in their silences, and they can be calm and comfortable and cuddly with each other.

I love them so much.

WEDDING NEXT CHAPTER!!!!!!!

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