And at springtide, when the apple-blossoms brush
the burnished bosom of the dove,
Two young lovers lying in an orchard
would have read the story of our love;
-

"Catch me if you can!"

Edmund laughed- she could always, always, always make him laugh- as he finally began to hasten his speed.
"You know I can, Moonshine!" He called ahead to Sanya, who was jogging across the field, waving his hat- which she had sneakily pulled off his head when he had been checking the itinerary- in one of her arms, her own coat clutched in her other hand. "Watch where you walk!"

"I'm alright!" Sanya shouted back happily- for the first time in too long, she felt like it was the truth.

She halted for a moment, because she also felt like it was possible that there would be some sign from the universe to refute her claim of being 'alright'- a lightning strike directly on her, perhaps- but there was nothing.

And so she began to run again, her white skirt flying behind her in the June wind, and her husband chased after her.

It wasn't a chase, really. She did know that he could catch her, if he wanted to. But it was nice of him to let her have her fun.

And it was fun! The field she was running across was large, sprawling- and absolutely empty! It was like a playground just for them.

Jem, Selene, and Seraphina would have loved playing here. It would've been another meadow for them to frolic in.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, saying loudly, "I'm going to get all tanned, Mrs. Reza-Pevensie!"

"Ha! When you get tanned, I'll like vegetables!"
In other words- it would never happen.

"Sanya-"

She turned around, and was unsurprised to see him very close. Edmund was smiling, his hair windswept, and one of his arms reached out to grab his hat back- the other carried a picnic basket- and she laughed again.

Walking backwards, she pretended to doff his hat and then she bowed- before tossing it clean to the side.

He gasped, and Sanya ran ahead, much faster than before, giggling wildly.

Soon, however, she stopped again, for longer than a second this time- partly because she felt merciful, and partly because her knee was starting to twinge with pain again, and she didn't want to suffer a broken knee in a field yet again.
She turned and she waited for her husband to run across this field of green bathed in sun-gold.

They'd crossed a lot more of it than she had thought- they would reach Chatsworth quicker than an hour and a half, as the lady at the front desk of their inn had said they would.

Edmund was almost to her now- she kept looking between him and at the coppice before her again, laughing and wondering whether to let him chase her some more, knee or no knee.

Both of his arms were outstretched this time, and as Edmund reached Sanya, he wrapped them around her, pulling her off the ground and dancing her around in a tight embrace.

Sanya wrapped her legs loosely around his waist, her hair swinging just as they were- and Edmund murmured in her ear, "Caught you, wife."

"Yes." She said breathlessly. "Sorry about the hat."

"Oh, I'll find it." He shrugged, setting her down. "Regardless, my priority is our honeymoon over my hat."

Their honeymoon was taking place in Derbyshire- which Sanya should have guessed, but she had completely forgotten about when Edmund had actually said that they could perhaps have their honeymoon there. In her defence, it had been years ago and she had a bad memory.
It was day five of the honeymoon- they were staying at the Rutland Arms, an inn Jane Austen herself had stayed at- and they had spent two days exploring the Peak, where Edmund lost Sanya again (it'd taken almost three hours to find each other, as the Peak was almost endlessly sprawling, and there were too many places to be unintentionally hidden. A fantastic place for hide and seek, though).

As for the other days- well, it had been very difficult to get out of bed. The folks in the neighbouring rooms had either put in noise complaints or had had to relocate to a room where Edmund and Sanya's love wasn't quite so audible.

Chatsworth House, which they were walking towards, was not part of Pride and Prejudice- but Ms. Potts had said, many times, that that was what she had envisioned in her mind as Pemberley while reading the book.

The journey from the inn to the estate was ten minutes by car- but Edmund had firmly said that they would be walking instead. Sanya had scowled at him so terribly a toddler had started to wail at her expression.

"You say the most romantic things." She said teasingly- although he had set her down, her arms were still around him. His face was bright- possibly because of the sunlight, but also because of joy- and she thought that she had perhaps never seen him so incandescent. "You know, I'm really liking the scenic route."

He quirked a smile at her, "Is that my new nickname? Scenic route?"

"You know your nickname, husband." Then she made a face. "It is very unimaginative, though-"

Edmund kissed her, cutting off her critical pondering- he loved the nickname, whether she thought it unimaginative or not.
When he had first been told that he'd have to get married, he would never have thought that one day the title of 'husband' would mean so much to him.

They pulled away for air, and Sanya spoke hoarsely, "If you keep kissing me like that, we're never going to get to that house."

"I can live with that." He murmured, breathless and fingering the first button of her dress. He did not break his gaze from her eyes, which were quite literally shining in the bright sunlight. "Better to do it here than in the house itself- otherwise, we'll get thrown out."

"Like we almost did in the British Museum."
A day-trip to London together had been their stag/hen do (Sanya did not understand why those terms were used) before the wedding.

They'd gone on the London Eye, and taken pictures of the Big Ben, wandered around Hyde Park, and then they had started snogging next to the painting called Landscape with a Woodland Pool.

"To be fair, that was partly because we pointed out that a lot of their exhibits were stolen artefacts."

She shrugged, sitting down, "Not our fault the British can't handle the truth."
The law about public indecency was also not their fault.

He had to nod at that- and then he sat down as well, opposite her.

The grass was soft and warm- it had been baked in the warm sun, and he was sure if either of them lay down, they'd end up falling asleep, even though they both had trouble sleeping.

"It feels like our spot." Edmund said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I know it's an entire field- but it feels ours."
Nothing had really felt theirs- apart from their love, which was obvious- since they had left Narnia to live here. Hopefully the new house would- but, until then, he was perfectly fine with this meadow-like field.

"Yes. It does." Sanya smiled, lifting a hand to push her hair away from her face- the moonstone of her ring glowed in the sun, the stone seeming blue at parts and transparent at others. "You feel happy, right?"

He blinked, a little taken aback at the question- before nodding.
"Very much."

"Me too."
So much so that- that it almost didn't feel like it was her life. It was like she was living in one of her daydreams.
If that turned out to be the truth- well, she hoped she never woke to reality. Reality was the worst.

"I wish they were here."

Jem would have drawn the glen as Sanya offered inputs on his art, Selene would have been dancing before sitting down and complaining about the sun, and Seraphina- he would have taken the toddler in his arms, and read to her in some shade. He hoped that the baby who never was would be with them, too.

Edmund wished he got to see the three again. Just once. They didn't have to talk- the children did not even have to know he was there- he just wanted to see their faces, and know they were well, wherever they were. The end of their life had been cruel, and he hoped their afterlife was kind to them.

They were in Aslan's Country, he was sure- it was the only notion about them that brought him peace.

She bit her lip, "Me too."
She knew she had no right to wish that. She had willingly abandoned them. She had broken their hearts, caused their deaths.

But that knowledge did not stop her from loving them so much it hurt or from wanting them back with her.

She would see them after death. She would see her family. Perhaps just for a moment before she got carted off to Jahannam- but it would be enough.

"I really miss them. So much." Edmund said, his eyes faraway as he stared at the horizon. He was remembering, and he was feeling the sting of memories with those who no longer lived. "I never imagined myself as a father. Never. Not until-"

"Jem." Sanya ended quietly. "I never expected to be a teenage mother, either. But-"

"It happened, and it felt right." Just as she had for him, Edmund finished her sentence. "He was- is our baby boy. Jem, Sel and Sera- they'll always be our babies."
And we'll always miss them.

Sanya nodded, her throat too tight as she tried to hold back a spontaneous sob.
Once the sob had been subdued satisfactorily, she decided to ask something.
"If our children had-" not been killed, "had been alive, and they had come here with us- what would have happened?"

He looked thoughtful.
"I can't answer that, because if they were there- I don't think I'd have left Narnia." He said truthfully, even though he was aware the truth could upset his wife. "Even if Aslan decreed it- I couldn't. I couldn't have left them, and I couldn't have taken them away from their home."

He had been ready to leave her, though. He'd been ready to leave her with no home, nothing, all alone.

Almost as though Edmund knew the venomous thoughts in Sanya's head, he reached ahead to take her hand.
"With you- the only reason I was going to come back here was because my siblings would need me." He swallowed- and he was quietly glad that she had not wrenched her hand away. "It killed me, thinking I had to leave you. But Peter and S-Susan had their minds made up, that we had to go back right then. I would've had to lose someone and feel guilt whether I stayed, or I left."
He gave a low, sardonic chuckle.
"And I chose leaving. I chose leaving the love of my life, when I should've tried to convince Peter that we should stay. Aslan, I was a fool."

"Amathés in agápi."

"What?"

Flushing a bit, she began to explain, "It's what I told Apollo, when he asked me why I entered that accursed forest."
Was he making the day so warm and sunny, just for them?
She tried to not think of then- but when she did, she wondered why he had not killed her, and had instead healed her. She'd been disrespectful and insolent to the God more than once. He should've smote her on the spot.
Most likely, he pitied her.
"It means a fool in love. In the language of the Gods."

"Oh."
Foolish wasn't a word he used for himself- but everyone who fell in love, who loved deeply, whether it was romantic love or familial, was a fool. Just opening yourself up to that emotion- it was a reckless act. And he had used it for himself in context of having feelings for Sanya more than once.
Strangely enough, a smile soon tugged at his lips, "I think you're right, darling."

She looked at him, "Yeah?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

After a couple of minutes of holding hands and gazing at the horizon, Sanya looked behind her husband, searching for where he had dropped the picnic basket. They had planned to sit down somewhere after the visit to Chatsworth House- and she did want to go, but she was starting to feel famished.
"Want to have the picnic now?"

Edmund looked torn. On one hand, picnicking with Sanya and having food that Sanya was not responsible for- on the other hand, the beauty of Chatsworth House and wandering around there hand-in-hand with his wife.
"I want to- but you know how easily we lose track of time."

"Spoken very greatly and gravely." She said, deciding to acquiesce to what he said.
She was the reason they had left late- she didn't want to also be the reason that they reached their destination after visiting hours.
"Alright-" she kissed him again, short and sweet, with promise for more, "let's find your hat, and we'll go."

"Wait-" He grasped the camera that had been slung around his neck, and lifted it up. Lucy had very graciously lent them her camera for the honeymoon, and he made it a point to take as many photographs of his wife as he could- she tried to take pictures of him, too, but he rarely let the camera off his person. "Say 'books'!"

Sanya laughed, and the camera clicked.

And that was how the next week and a half- that is, the rest of the honeymoon- went. They laughed, they ate, they chatted, they danced, they spent too long trying to convince people that they were actually legally married- time they could have spent in love with each other- they kissed, they made love, and they wandered. They basked in each other's company and revelled in their love, and took pictures all the while.

It was the beginning of a much deserved happily ever after.

They hoped so, at least.

Edmund prayed endlessly that it was, and Sanya wished desperately for it to be true.

We hope, pray and wish so, as well.
--

There was even more ivy on the cottage than Sanya remembered there being.

And there were roses in the garden- there had only been wildflowers and marigolds earlier, as far as she could remember.

Apart from that, the house was exactly how it had been when she had first seen it. It was her house of dreams, to borrow a phrase from Anne Blythe née Shirley.

Edmund, however, was not staring at the house- but at the sky.

It was overcast- so grey that it was almost as black as the dead of night, even though it was not even evening yet- and both Sanya and the weather reports said that there would be a massive storm later that night.

"An auspicious day." He muttered, not sure himself if he was being sarcastic or not.

On one hand, his wife adored this weather. He liked it, too, particularly when he knew he would be cosy and warm indoors.
On the other- dark clouds weren't exactly ideal whilst about to enter your new home after your wedding and honeymoon.

Sanya looked at her husband, grinning. She had no conflicts about how she felt about the weather. She loved it.
"Do you have the key?"
She really wanted to go in. Her legs hurt. The compartment they had been sitting in on the train had been painfully full, and they'd both had to sit with their suitcases on their laps.
She'd practically been able to hear her knees crack again.

Edmund nodded, reaching into the pocket of his coat to retrieve the small metallic object.
Before he could unlock the door, though, he hesitated.
He turned to his wife, "I don't know what the furniture is like."

"Well, some of it is the furniture that was already there when we bought the house." She told him, her eyebrows creasing. "And the rest was chosen by Susan-"

"And I fear that-"

As though he had not spoken, she went on, "With specific instructions to buy things we would like, as opposed to things that are on the front covers of magazines."

"Yes, but-"

"I also told her to buy two bookcases. There are many books between the two of us."

"That was smart, but-"

"And the bed is rosewood."

Edmund stared at her.

Sanya smiled mischievously, "Like our bed in Cair was."

Oh, he remembered. He'd been extremely bothered by it, as well as all the changes that had taken place in his room due to his wedding. He had actually thrown some of the pillows into the fire.
But now, looking back- he had many happy memories on that bed. And no, they didn't all revolve around truly wonderful sex with Sanya.
"Bookcases and a bed. You do know the way into my heart, Moonshine."

"Well, at least a way into the house." She shrugged, and snatched the key from him.
She walked towards the front door, glancing at the vines wrapped around the column beside it, and they were topped with white flowers.
They were jasmine flowers. Much of the foliage over the house was the purplish clematis, but there were bursts of the white flowers, too.

As the key turned in the lock, she spoke again, twisting the doorknob open, "I also told Susan to buy a very comfortable sofa, so don't- Ed!"

In the span of one second, Edmund had pulled her close, slid one of his arms under her knees and the other around her neck, picking her up.

"What the FUCK-"

Edmund was grinning at her now, and Sanya scowled at him. He was going to hurt himself!

She stammered, "Wh-what are you-"

He pressed a short kiss to her lips, and pulled away, saying, "Carrying my new bride over the threshold of our new house."

That was the darlingest thing she had ever heard- but he was far from right.
"We're celebrating fifteen years of marriage this December." Sanya said flatly. "I am not exactly a new bride."

Edmund had no retort to that, so he simply said, "Shut up, and let me be romantic."

"You'll break your back." She said, feeling his arms twitch under her. She was lighter than she had ever been, but she was still not made to be carried, especially by someone as slender as Edmund. Though he did have broad shoulders- and considerable strength from swordsmanship or rugby, depending on the world... He was very, very fit...
She was getting distracted.
"Let me down."

"Absolutely not." His voice was strained, but there was utter determination, mixed in with adoration, in his dark eyes. "It's a tradition-"

"As is having a lot of sex in your nuptial bed, which is why you should put me down so you don't break something-"

Though his cheeks had turned pink at the 'lot of sex' part- oh, he could not wait to have the slick warmth of her sex around his cock, the taste and feel of her everywhere, and to see her shining face as they made love- he ignored her, continuing, "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

Sanya was not moved.
"Fracturing your arms?"

Edmund gave her a look, "Sanya."

"Maybe I should carry you." She said, looking doubtful at whether her husband would be able to. "I'm bigger and stronger."

"Yes, but I'm taller and fitter."

He had a point there, and she was unable to find an argument against it.
So she rolled her eyes and snaked one arm around his neck, securing her position in his arms.
"Alright, husband." She kissed him soundly, much longer than their last kiss.
She kicked the door open with her foot, and looked back at him- despite her annoyance with his pig-headedness on this matter, her eyes were bright with love.
"Carry me."

He smiled again- and together, they crossed the threshold of the house that they would decide later that night would be called Clematis Cottage.

But before the christening- both of the cottage, and their bed- there came company.

Company that- while beloved- was very unwanted, because Edmund and Sanya just wanted to cuddle together, perhaps dance around the kitchen, and then have sex.

"Welcome back!" Lucy spoke cheerily, waving as the newlywed couple entered the living room, to see their three-seater Lawson sofa occupied.

The soothing cream colour of the sofa fit well against the laurel hue of the walls, as well as with the darker armchairs that were there on either side of the coffee table. The other object that took up a lot of space in the drawing room was the pianoforte gifted by Sanya's grandmother- it stood in one corner of the living room, diagonal to the sofa.

The pendant light had bathed the living room in a golden glow reminiscent of that from a fireplace- though the fireplace was not going to be used for some time, since it was summer. On one side of the fireplace, there was a television- broadcasts had been reopened from the previous month, and Sanya liked watching the cartoons that played, while Edmund watched the BBC Wimbledon with some dedication.

On the other side of it, there was a glass display cabinet- mostly empty, but certain knick-knacks given by their families, or collected by the couple over the years, had already found their way on the shelves.

Above the fireplace mantel, there was a painting done by Bonnie, in various shades of purple and blue and red. Everyone had tried to convince Edmund and Sanya to put an enormous photograph portrait of themselves instead, but they had refused. They had, however, compromised by placing a small framed picture of them- they were hugging each other, Edmund kissing Sanya's hair, and both smiling at the camera- on the mantelpiece.

They were not smiling now- identical looks of shock had appeared on Edmund's and Sanya's faces, and Lucy's smile grew.

She got up from her seat, "Aw, Ed, it's so sweet that you carried her in bridal-style!"

Sanya made a face, "It has a name?"

"Of course it has a name, it's an age-old tradition." Peter said, walking in from the kitchen, a glass held loosely in his hand. "At least a century or two old."

As he set his wife down, Edmund cleared his throat, "Actually, it dates back to the Romans."

"Who lived many centuries ago-"

"Rome fell in the fifth century-"

"Which counts in the 'at least a century'." His brother said cockily, and then lifted his drink up to the couple. "Welcome home."

Almost on cue, there came the sound of thunder, as though the clouds were welcoming them, too.

"Thanks." They both said very blandly. "Why are you two here?"

Edmund went on, "Aren't you supposed to be in Finchley?"

Sanya looked at Lucy, "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

She and Edmund had left school in December, because they were sixth-formers- which Lucy was not. The rest of the school continued to the usual term-end, usually in early July.

What day was it? She had lost track of the calendar- not that she ever kept much notice of it- a few days into the honeymoon. Honestly, she had lost track of everything that wasn't Edmund or part of Edmund.

Could it be possible that the end-of-term break had already started?

Wait, had they missed Lucy's birthday?!

"No." Her smile faded slightly. "School ended on the first of July, two days ago."
And it would be her last year next. She'd be sad to be leaving school. Besides her family, it was the only familiar thing she had left.

Oh. Good. Lucy's birthday wasn't for another six days, then.

"Mum was in agony trying to decide if it was alright to send you some food." Peter explained, because his brother and sister-in-law still looked displeased at their presence. "And then she was in agony about how to send you the food-"

"So we volunteered!" Lucy finished. "We three were a bit at loose ends, anyway, and we've all really missed you."

Sanya squinted at her, "You were worried about your camera, weren't you?"

Lucy did not have the time to respond to that extremely accurate deduction, because Edmund had spoken up, his brows furrowing so much he looked like a newborn baby.
"'We three'?" He repeated, suspicion in his tone- and some hope. "Susan's here?"

Lucy looked at Peter, whose mouth promptly pursed in grimness.
She said, "No... She did say she would come, that it'd be nice to be together again- but then- I don't know, maybe she had plans with Bonnie-"

"Bonnie is in Majorca with her family." Sanya informed them. Her best friend, too, was on a very lengthy summer break from university. "I don't think Susan went all the way there."
She didn't know where Majorca was, exactly, but it was not in England.

There was a very uncomfortable silence, the only sound being the pitter-patter of rain outside.

"I'm glad she didn't come."
It was not Peter who said this- it was Edmund, his handsome features hard and grim.
"It would've made all of us miserable, and today's supposed to be happy."

Sanya shifted closer to her husband, slipping her hand into his.
But she said nothing. Sometime ago, she would have defended Susan and her coping mechanism, like she had while telling her siblings about it- but not anymore.
It had been a year and a half since her sister-in-law's peculiar repression and denial of her true home. She really had thought it was temporary- she had said as much to the other three Pevensie siblings.
But it had been months. Almost two years. Even for someone who had lived for a thousand years, as she had- that was a long time.

"Maybe you can talk to her, Ed." Lucy spoke softly, looking to her dark-haired brother. "If anyone can make her see reason- get through to her- it's you."

"Why?" He asked- he sounded almost dangerous, and no one volunteered to answer him. So, he continued, "Because I was a traitor then, and she's a traitor now?"

His sister looked horrified, "That's not- it's not why- I meant-"
She had not meant it that way at all! She had wanted Edmund to talk to her because he was the wisest of the family. And he and Susan had an understanding between each other- they were both quiet, thoughtful, more sceptical than their lighter-haired siblings, and they preferred words to fists.

"It's true, though." Peter said quietly, and the other three looked at him. He was staring at the ground, his jaw clenched. "Susan is a traitor."

Lucy's eyes filled with tears, but she protested strongly, "No, she's- she's just lost-"

"If she is, then I don't think she'll find her way back." The former High King of Narnia said, and he looked up to meet the gazes of the Monarchs he had ruled with.
His gaze settled on his littlest sister, and he swallowed.
"She's not a friend of Narnia anymore, Lucy."

Again, silence.

Sanya broke it this time, with something that was not related to the growing estrangement of the former Gentle Queen.
She felt that the topic absolutely had to be changed, mostly because each of the Pevensies looked microseconds away from bursting into tears.

She could barely handle a crying baby, there was no way she'd be able to manage three grown former Monarchs sobbing in front of her.

She spoke to Peter and Lucy, "Did you say you brought food?"

Lucy blinked- and nodded, "Yes- Mum made bangers and mash- with chicken, Sanya, since you don't eat pork-"

Her sister-in-law smiled, quite grateful. If or when she spoke to her mother-in-law, she would have to thank her very awkwardly. The 'awkwardly' wasn't a 'have to', but it was a 'will happen, despite all efforts against it'.

"And some sandwiches, and we picked up some fish and chips, too-"

Edmund laughed, surprising himself most, "A proper feast!"

"Got some wine, too." Peter grinned- he was the only one who'd drink it, since Edmund didn't like being drunk, Sanya barely drank, and Lucy was too young.

She's almost seventeen, a voice too similar to Susan's spoke in his mind. We both were drinking much before that.

Shut the fuck up, Susan, he thought angrily, and the voice quieted.

"Fish and chips are mine." The once-True called, as her siblings-in-law turned in the direction of the kitchen. "Bags on it or whatever it's called."

Peter turned to scowl at her, "You can't just call bags on food like that-"

Sanya smiled at him, her eyes twinkling, "Our house, our rules."

Sliding his arm around his wife's waist, Edmund shrugged, "I agree with whatever she says."

His brother sighed, and followed their sister into the kitchen.

As soon as he was sure they were out of earshot, Edmund spoke quietly to Sanya, "You know I love our family, but are you sure you don't mind that they're intruding upon our first meal in this house?"

Sanya looked at her husband, a half-smile on her face.
"Better than them intruding upon our first- well, technically fifth time-" just because they had officially moved in that very day, did not mean they had not occasionally visited the house to enjoy some alone time, "making love in this house."

She shrugged, then. They had the rest of the night, as well.

And they would wake up wanting each other, too, she knew. It had happened in Narnia, too, too many times to count.

Her husband would whisper in her ear, "Good morning, my love,", his hips already pressing down on hers- they faced each other, similar little smiles on their faces, a bit drowsy and very lustful- and she would moan, sleepy and already so wanton and wet, lifting her hips to grind against his- and then he would go slow and deep, her hands tightly curled in his hair, until they both came.

Oh, if every morning started like that, she would actually be a morning person.

She cleared her throat, trying to push this dreamy thought away, because she could already feel desire coil at the pit of her stomach.

"Plus, they brought food." She said, finally remembering what they had been talking about. "And we have forever after this, darling. We can delay making love for a couple of hours."

She had three very good points there, he had to admit- and so, arms around each other, they walked towards their kitchen.
--

"I'm dead."

Sanya turned around in alarm, her fingers tangled in her dark hair- oh, her ring better not have been caught up in one of her knots again.
"What?"

Edmund had his hand over his heart, and he was staring right at his wife, who was seated at her vanity table.
"I must be dead, because where else but in Heaven can I see something as shundor as you?"

She gave him a look, caught between disdain and delight, and he burst into laughter.
She was definitely blushing red as cherries.

Oh, speaking of cherries- Sarah had made cherry pie. She'd apparently wanted to make cherries jubilee, whatever that was, but had had to settle for 'a simple pie'.
Sanya did not care about any pies as long as she had vanilla ice-cream- but it would certainly appeal to her husband's sweet tooth, and so she would tell him about it soon.

Yes, Sarah Dewan was now the Reza-Pevensies' cook.

Sanya hadn't even had a hand in that- her grandmother had had the idea, and Sarah had been all for it, because her family lived in Duxford, which was only ten minutes away by car.

The 'new' wife was very glad for it, because she could not cook, and did not want to cook.
Cooking did not want or like her, either- she had almost been driven to tears while trying to peel potatoes the day before Sarah had arrived.

"I'm going to find a portal back to Narnia if you keep saying mushy things like that." She turned around, facing the mirror again, trying to make sure her hair-ribbon did not fall out.

Her husband walked to the table, and kissed her rose-smelling hair when he reached her. She must have had a shower while he'd been settling his study- he had thought he was going mad when he had heard singing, but now he realised it was probably just his wife singing in the bath.
"You know you love it."

"I love you." She looked at his reflection in the mirror, smiling slightly.
He had cleaned up after spending most of the day arranging his study, now dressed in a pressed blue shirt and his hair tidier than usual- but not, thankfully, combed to the side in that terrible conservative-ish manner- and he looked as handsome as he always did, her darling husband.

She had felt a little bad that she hadn't even tried to help him in the study- but she stuck with her decision, because she knew how particular he was about his own space and she didn't want to intrude.

Plus, she had had to go into town to survey the space for her new bookshop. It wasn't too small, but cosy- and the layout was in such a way that she could easily expand it to include an eating area, where the customers could have tea and some snacks.

The English were obsessed with tea, which was why she thought that was quite a good idea.

The walls were currently being painted, and then bookshelves for the shop would arrive next week- as would the other furniture- but she hadn't yet put in an order for books.

She knew, obviously, that the books were the most important part- but she wanted thought put into the books available.
The best-sellers of today would be there, pieces of popular fiction over the years as well, with non-fiction and academic books, too, because apparently some people enjoyed those- but that couldn't be all. Hidden gems, rare finds, novels so full of heart but lacking the attention they deserved, foreign books- she had to have them, too.

Though, if she had those, it was very unlikely that she would be able to part with them.

"You're ready?"

"Just have to pull on my coat, and I'm good to go." He nodded to his wife, straightening up.

They had been invited to a party by one of their neighbours. He had been very surprised- their cottage was removed from the clutch of houses, and thus not exactly part of it, which was why he had not expected much interaction with the people living there.

But Edmund supposed they were trying to be neighbourly- with, of course, curiosity driving the rest of the reason behind the invite. It was not everyday that two married eighteen-year-olds, one an 'Indian' girl from a rich family and the other a middle-class Christian boy, moved to a very large and reclusive cottage.

He had a month of holiday left still- he could ask around at the party about whether any jobs were available for the month. He hoped he got some answers that would be conducive- he and Sanya needed as much money saved up as possible.

Even if the neighbours weren't nice as hoped- at least the people in their surroundings weren't too nosy. He did not want anyone anywhere near Clematis Cottage.

He'd had recurring nightmares the past few weeks, aside from those about the White Witch, that people raided his home with pitchforks and tried to set Sanya on fire.

That could have been because, during the honeymoon, they had found a theatre showing the Frankenstein film from 1931.

Apparently, that cinema hall specialised in the horror, and Sanya had said that she'd like to stick around to watch the next, too, as long as the next film was not (she had practically yelled) about ghosts. Humanoid monsters were fine, ghosts and spirits were not.

They'd ended up staying for the next two movies, Nosferatu and The Wolf Man- but had had to miss Phantom of the Opera, because they'd needed nourishment, and popcorn wasn't doing the job.

"Are you almost done?"

Sanya did not answer, looking at the mirror again.

She had tried. She had genuinely tried to make herself presentable for this party, at least on the outside- she had no hopes for what was inside her.

She was trying, because she wanted this place to be home.
She wanted to be comfortable here, not stared at, not jeered at, not called a prostitute or a whore or mud-girl.
She did not want to make friends, she didn't want to become the neighbourhood social butterfly- no, no, she was an antisocial moth to the core. She didn't even want or need to be accepted.
But she didn't want people to hate her, or look down on Edmund for loving her, and she wished to cause no disruptions in the town.

If the way to do that was look as close to the status quo of suburban housewives as possible- she would do it. She just wanted peace.

There was no helping her brown skin- it was a lighter shade of brown, it was true, but she would still never pass for white. She didn't want to, either, because peace or not, she would never forsake her culture and country.

But other things, she tried. She had put on a red dress with polka-dots, the earrings at her ears were shaped like six-petalled flowers, she'd combed her hair and tied it up half-up with a ribbon, and she had painted her lips red, hiding how chapped they were- but they were still pursed as she looked at her face.

She still didn't like who stared back at her. She didn't think she ever would.

But she could learn to like this place- and make this a home, even though she had lost her home so long ago.

She had part of her home, at least, standing behind her, his hand on the edge of her vanity table, looking at her concernedly.

"Moonshine?" Her husband asked softly. He had been looking at her, his brows creased- and with each passing moment of her silence, he'd been getting more and more worried. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm- I'm ready." She said, trying to smile. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to make him sad. "I'm ready- it's just- just- this stupid ribbon keeps falling out."

It had been years since, but he had sometimes tied Selene's hair with ribbons. His technique had not been flawless, but at least the ribbons never fell out of his daughter's hair when he tied it. He'd combed his wife's hair a few times, too, recently, and it calmed her as much as it calmed him.
As he started to untie the ribbon so he could tie it up again, he said quietly, "We don't have to go."

"Edmund."
And then she watched him in the mirror, watching his deft and gentle fingers curl the ribbon around her silky hair, carefully tying it such that it'd stay intact. He was so soft with her.
She could stay happily in this particular millisecond of a moment forever, she mused.

"I mean it, love."

He moved away after he was done with the ribbon, just the moment after that- he was quite certain it wouldn't fall off anymore.

"I really do. We don't have to attend."

He had said this before, when he'd told her that they had been invited to a neighbourhood event. He knew Sanya hated events of all kinds, and that she was beyond uncomfortable at them.

He had not even wanted to tell her, if he was being honest. He knew full well it would put a damper on her mood- and she had been so happy that day!

First, they had had a long duel with sticks- because of the lack of swords- in their garden, which she would've won, had both their sticks not broken within ten seconds of each other- and then she had been wandering around the house wearing only her moon-and-stars pyjamas, and singing a less child-friendly version of 'Someday My Prince Will Come'.
He was fairly sure she had been supposed to dust the house at that time, but she had looked so content he'd not had the heart to remind her.

"We can stay home, watch Tom and Jerry or Looney Tunes on the television, have sex in front of the fireplace, and then do the dishes."
He winced suddenly.
"Not necessarily in that order. Oh, also, we'll read together! I need to finish A Farewell To Arms, and you have Rebecca, if I'm not wrong."

Sanya looked up at him, and her smile was more genuine this time.
"I do- and I'd love that. But we did all that yesterday, darling- especially sex in front of the fireplace."

His eyes sparkled, very pleased at the memory, "And wasn't it fun, my Moonshine?"

His wife reached out to grip his shirt-collar, and pulled him down until his mouth crashed into hers.
"Very fun." She murmured hoarsely into his gasping mouth.

His hands clutched her blouse, dragging it down enough that if she hadn't been wearing a bra, her breasts would have popped out of the neckline.
Both of them were very disappointed that she was wearing a bra.

"My beautiful, beautiful King."
She moved her lips away from his, and kissed down his jaw, wrenching his collar aside to get better access to his neck. As she peppered kisses down his throat, she bit down gently every few seconds- and as she sucked at the love-bites, Edmund moaned.
"I'm alright." Sanya whispered, pulling away from him and looking deep into his eyes. "I'll be alright, because you'll be right next to me."

"Okay. If you're sure, wife." Edmund palmed her covered breast for a moment, before adjusting the top of her dress- he was pretty sure her tits were only for him to see. "We are not staying there long, though."

"Definitely not. Imagine if I accidentally say that I fucked my husband's sister in America."

He gave her a look, "Still not the time that I'll laugh at that."

Yes, she should not have said that. See? T'was why she ought not to be left alone in company.
"Alright, alright." She brought his hand to her lips, and kissed it. "We'll be home-"

She had said home. It had flowed out naturally. She hadn't meant to-
Maybe she shouldn't overthink it.

As if thinking that she shouldn't overthink would stop her overthinking.
"In time for Tom and Jerry and sex in front of the fireplace." She promised solemnly-though a smile threatened to break, and he was already smiling widely.

She loved Tom and Jerry- Jerry was her favourite.
She also loved Looney Tunes- she didn't think she could choose, but it wasn't likely that they'd be in time for that programme on the television.

"Maybe we can swap out the washing dishes in exchange for a bath together."

Edmund pretended to think about it.
"It's washing still, so I think it works."

Sanya smiled as well, and he leaned down to press a short- but no less hungry- kiss to her lips.

If anyone at the party noticed the purplish marks under Edmund's collar and all over his neck or that Sanya's lipstick was smudged and the blouse of her dress askew, they were wise enough to not mention it whilst in earshot of the 'newlyweds'.

-
-✧･: °*✧*°:･✧-
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(How lovely. How happy. How edenic)
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(And the hopes and the prayers worked! They have all of each other again :"))
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(Bliss. That's the word. Bliss.)
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(Lucy’s camera is forever scarred.)
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(They really are at their cutest nowadays. Insane.)

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(The picture on their mantelpiece, if anyone wants to know 🥲🥺
If you think it looks real- thank you 💖)
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(Yes, the last scene of this chapter is the scene that is in the book's cover.
I had not thought, in the beginning, that I would actually make that a real scene- but hey, it fit in, so I did 🤷‍♀️)
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7K words! What a miniscule chapter.
We're in the forties now! Endgame. Well, not endgame exactly. Pre-endgame. Infinity War. Yeah.
I miss Avengers...

And it's such a sweet chapter. SO SWEET. DOMESTIC EDMANYA!! HAPPY EDMANYA!!

Before we get into how ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE the opening of the chapter is, Chatsworth House is actually where Pemberley (Mr. Darcy's estate) scenes were shot in Pride and Prejudice (2005). Yes, I absolutely HAD to include it somehow.
It is just the most THEM honeymoon place, too.
I feel the other option would have been Dartmoor (where The Hound of the Baskervilles is set), but ig Ed went for the more romantic literary location.

Edmund and Sanya being happy and being together and being somewhat carefree is as much of a novelty for them as it is for me.

But they ARE it. They are in utter, incandescent joy. The only thing they are concerned with is being with each other and making sure their camera doesn't fall into the wrong hands.
See, they would NOT make a sextape, if they were in today's times, but they'd definitely take pictures of each other naked. Not having sex, probably- hopefully- just of each other naked and making goofy expressions.
Or not. They might be even more awkward in the modern setting.

The way their ideal night is staying in, watching cartoons, having sex somewhere that probably isn't a bed, reading together, and having food.

WHEN. IS. IT. MY. TURN.
HELL- OUR TURN. EVERY BOOKWORM DESERVES IT!

The part where Edmund says he misses their kids so much and then thinks that they'll always be their babies- I can't help but remember the Lana Del Rey lyric 'I'll miss you forever- like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky'.
It fits quite well for them, I feel.

Okay, so, Sanya has a right to feel 'venomous' about her husband saying he would have stayed in Narnia if their children had been with him. She absolutely does.
But, in Edmund's eyes, leaving Narnia with his siblings wasn't to leave Sanya- it was to be with his siblings, who would need him awfully. His siblings are so absolutely important to him, and he feels like he has to make sure they're all okay. He's not the eldest, but he is their protector still.
Also, the guilt he felt about the pain and suffering he's caused his wife must have been a contributing factor. He thought she would be better off without him, because he probably forgot that it was because she was without him that she felt all that pain and suffering in the first place!

Even fictional men can be so fucking frustrating.

A very long overdue honeymoon scene of them.

They finally have- have it. IT. No, not Pennywise. They have togetherness, and calm, and it's on-page, instead of in little flashbacks!

EDMUND CARRYING SANYA BRIDAL STYLE DHJDKSMDJEJDKD.
Okay, sorry. But I had to freak out. I've been waiting four books to write this! SHE'S JUST SO SHOCKED BUT ALSO TOUCHED, AND EDMUND IS DYING BUT DETERMINED BECAUSE HE ADORES HER, AND JUST RRJDUSJKDKSJDDBDBDNMDD.

Also, this part made me laugh-

"I'm bigger and stronger."

"Yes, but I'm taller and fitter."

Like, Ed doesn't even argue. He knows full well that Sanya's the muscle and strength of the pair (and he likes it). What an awesome malewife he is.

Of course Lucy and Peter showed up their first night there. The Pevensie siblings are always a third wheel for Edmanya, unknowingly or unknowingly 💀.

Lucy is just. Amazing. She's probably been waiting for her brother and sister-in-law to have a home of their own since before they even met for the first time in 'Alliance'. Edmanya will probably set up her very own bedroom in the house.

Susan remains absent from Pevensie family moments. Her siblings do do their best to not treat her differently- barring Peter, ig- but she can still feel the difference. She understands the deep-seated animosity. She may not remember she's the Gentle, but she's as feelings-understanding-y as she ever was.

Peter lives in Cambridge, in a dorm at university. Edmund and Sanya have a house in Cambridgeshire. I have a feeling he will turn up at Edmanya's house like a bad penny any day that he doesn't have many classes.
I also have a feeling that Edmanya will take away his key by the end of his second visit and then pretend to not be home anymore when he shows up.

The last scene wasn't particularly necessary (though I did love that little mention that Edmanya spar with sticks in their new home, and that Sanya walks around topless and singing, because she feels that comfortable, and that Edmund can tie hair- just little details that are actually everything), but I wanted to include the part about Sanya's adjustment to this country and this world somewhere.
She doesn't fit. She's a puzzle piece that's been taken from one game and been jammed down in another, because the child playing it thought the shape was similar. She's there and she's stuck, but she doesn't fit and she doesn't feel right.

Still, she tries. She makes an effort, even though she hates it. She makes an effort, despite the pain it causes her about her past and her lost home. She makes an effort, not just because she loves Edmund- though that is most of it- but because she wants to be at least comfortable there.
She wants peace. She wants a soothing life with her love. She wants some semblance of retirement. She doesn't want to keep fighting, she doesn't want to be hated or sneered at.

Sanya deserves so much better.

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