Wept for myself, and so was purified,
And in their simple mirth grew glad again;
For as I sailed upon that pictured tide
The strength and splendour of the storm was mine
Without the storm's red ruin, for the singer is divine,
-

The flowers were suffocating her, and she couldn't help but think that this was a truly beautiful way to die.

All Sanya could see above and around her were blossoms- red, purple, blue, pink, yellow, green, orange, and every other colour imaginable. She couldn't see what was beyond them- she didn't even know if there was anything beyond them- and she was drowning. When she closed her eyes, she saw galaxies- but she opened them, and saw only flowers. Perhaps it was a flower-bed that she was lying down on as well.

A floral grave. A prison of flowers.

Wait, she thought, as she began to choke.
A prison- a prison of- flowers-

She wasn't dying. She was dreaming.

The room she had been imprisoned in Neráida- with the kaleidoscopic walls, and the floor of grass and flowers. She was, for some reason- dreaming of something similar.

"Very good." A voice she desperately wanted to forget said, and she felt her breathing ease as the coffin of flowers evaporated.

Sanya sat up, now in a plain field bordered by tulip and rose bushes- there were trees in the distance, too- and glared at the Faerie Queen.

"Thought it would take you longer, little Psyche." Rhiannon said, smirking at her from where she lay. She was utterly naked, her green skin glowing in the bright sun, and her wings were unfolded under her, protecting her from the dirt and soil of the field. "Your intelligence was never quite impressive."

Could people have headaches in dreams?
"What do you want, Rhiannon?" She asked tiredly, staring at the rosebush directly in her eye-line. The other options were staring at the sun, or at Rhiannon's bare form, and both of those did not appeal to her. "I thought I was rid of you for good."

"Ah, well, I saw you dreaming of bathing in flowers, and I felt I would like to enjoy the dream, too." She said lightly- Sanya glanced at her for a moment, on instinct as she'd begun to talk, and the faerie spread her legs wide. "Only, I tweaked your dream somewhat."

Paranoid fear gripped her throat, and Sanya's eyes blazed blue.
Of course- she had her powers in her dreams.
Yet another reason to love dreaming.
"How often do you do that?" She demanded, itching to grab her by the throat. But she wasn't going to go anywhere near her. And she doubted she could kill her in a dream, no matter how much she wanted to. "Tweak my dreams?"

What if- what if she had- what if she had lost control, and she'd had sex with Rhiannon again? What if she had been in a dream where Edmund was still gone- and she sought solace in Rhiannon's viridian arms?

She knew that whatever happened in dreams, did not matter. She had probably done far crazier things than kissing someone in dreams.

But if it was a dream where she was conscious of her waking reality- if she knew who she was, and if it was a dream where she was wholly herself- and she had still been with Rhiannon-

"Calm yourself and your lovely tits, this is the first time." Her ivory eyes were mirthful, and Sanya hated the fact that she could recognise emotion in Rhiannon. "I have watched broken bits of your dreams from afar a few times before- but this is the first I have stepped into your dream."
She sat up, absently twirling a lock of hair, and her wings folded themselves politely behind her.
"Dream-walking is no easy business, even for me. And your dream-self is powerful- she knows and shares your waking hate for me- and so, I am not welcome in your dreams."

"My dream-self is intelligent, then, even if I am not." She spoke calmly- but her head was starting to spin.
Her dream-self?
She had always assumed that when she was asleep, and when she dreamt, it was some form of her who took part in those dreams- but to give that version of her a name, it was odd.
But a certain part of what Rhiannon had spoken caught her attention.
"You're not welcome? Does that mean that others are?"

Rhiannon looked at her, a searching look in her eyes.
Finally, she said, "You don't remember your dreams, do you?"

"Not usually."

"A human folly." The Faerie Queen said, rising to her feet- Sanya moved her gaze away from the rose-bush and to the ground. "Perhaps that is best. Some dreams are not meant to be known to one awake."

"What happens in those dreams?"

She sat down next to the human, and spoke softly in her ear, "That which is not meant to be known to one awake."

Oh, faeries and their tricky language! Sanya would have preferred lies.
"You're the real you, then." She said flatly, ignoring the goosebumps that had erupted all over her skin.

The Faerie Queen had teleported into her dream. And she was completely naked, too, and as ravishing as ever- she didn't have to look at her to know that. And, apparently, there may have been others who entered her dreams, too.

Excellent.

If she remembered this dream, she would have a lot to tell Edmund and write in her diary.
She said 'tell' and 'write'- but it was more accurate to say 'complain'.

"Not a figment of my imagination."

Her lips curved into a wide smirk- or, was it a smile?
"Is it right of me to infer that you have been imagining me at other times?"

Sanya was quiet immediately, her jaw clenched, and made up her mind to not respond to her.
She was, however, unable to stop herself from wagging her index finger at the faerie, and a spray of water hit Rhiannon's face.

But after that, she didn't even look at her- even though Rhiannon was so near that the edges of her kurta brushed along the faerie's body.

The spray of water lasted for only for a moment, and was negligible compared to how she had used her powers in the past- but in that split second, she felt like she was glowing. She felt like she was finally on the path to being right.

But it was just for a moment.

Suddenly, she asked, "Do you dream?"

"Yes."

"Of what?"

"Many things."

"Name one."

"Our son." Her ivory eyes seemed to glow in their intensity- but, somehow, she still smiled. "And the child we might have had."

Not that again. Had she been curious about that? Yes, but she was curious about everything.
The only children she would ever have or bear were Edmund's.
She didn't know about in dreams- who knew, she might have dreamt that she and Nancy Drew had had children, with or without Ned Nickerson- but never in waking, conscious life.
Sanya looked away. She should have kept to her resolve to not talk to her.

The smile disappeared off of Rhiannon's face.
After an entire minute of the human's silence, she asked, a muffled note of desperation in her voice, "Do you not want to know how my efforts to bring our son back are going?"

Jemmy.
How could she not talk when it was about her baby?
"Not very well, I'm sure."

"Yes." She admitted, and finally looked away from Sanya- the first time so far. "It is not going well."

"Give up, Rhiannon." She looked at her on purpose this time, her eyes on the curve of her cheek as it disappeared into her dark hair. "Our son is dead, and it will forever bring us grief. That is the end of that story."

"I cannot forget as well as you." Instead of desperation, there was spite and bitterness in her voice now, as Rhiannon turned her head to face Sanya. "A new world, a new life, a new child, all together with the love of your life. It is easy for you to give up, for you've others to move on to."

"I have not forgotten our son, or my daughters."
She never would. She would always love them, and she would always grieve them.
And what was that about 'a new child'? A miscarried fetus was a child to Rhiannon, apparently.
"Do what you want, Rhiannon, I don't care."
She knew her plans for resurrection would never work, and Apollo had told her that Jem, Selene, and Seraphina would have found peace.
Whatever Rhiannon did, it would affect and hurt only her- and, well, her subjects, for she was certainly using and exploiting them in her plans. But even if they bore the physical brunt of it- it was only Rhiannon whose heart would break.
"Are you alone?"

The Faerie Queen looked at her, uncomprehending.

Sanya decided to elaborate, "Have you found yourself a h-hetaera yet?"

"I do not want for anyone but you to be my hetaera."

"But you don't and won't have me."

"I am aware." Her nostrils flared. "But, as you never forgot the Just King, I will never forget the water-goddess I share blood and divinity with."

Sanya's lips parted, and she looked at Rhiannon for a long time.
She hated her- save for Rabatrash, perhaps she was whom she most hated- but she could not deny there was something between them. Perhaps it was the shared 'blood and divinity'- or perhaps something else, or both.
If she and Edmund were Psyche and Eros- she and Rhiannon were Persephone and Hades. Except, in this story, there was nothing romantic and the love would never be requited and she would never return to Neráida again, be it for half a year or half a second.
She had asked Rhiannon something before. She felt compelled to ask it again, her curiosity getting the best of her.
"Do you love me?"

Her jaw set, and she looked away for a second, her wings wrapping around her protectively.
"You have asked me that before."

"You didn't answer then."

"And I will not answer now."

"It won't change anything."

"Precisely." Her ivory eyes gazed into her brown eyes, both so guarded and so tender all at once. "It will not change anything, for better or for worse."

That was true.
She was the True Queen- she would not argue against truth, even if she wanted to.
"I hate you."

Her face relaxed- the Faerie Queen had heard that from the water-goddess before, and it likely did not affect her as much as her question had.
"I know that as well, Poseidon's princess."

Oh, that was a new one.
"There is a thin line between love and hate."
For one sliver of a second, she wanted to hold Rhiannon's hand.
But that was insane. She was trying to comfort her, that was all- because if she understood anything, she understand loneliness. She knew loneliness better than she knew her name. She would wish crippling loneliness on Rabatrash, because he deserved that and worse and everything worst- but not on the Faerie Queen. She had no reason for it- she just wouldn't.
"And I think that line was probably crossed between us in some world in the multiverse."

"Kápoios kósmos ekeí éxo eínai o dikós mas."

Some world out there is ours.

Sanya nodded, "Yes."
Some universes out there must be quite insane.
For all she knew, she could be ending up with Peter in one of them- or someone even more ludicrously unexpected! Being with Rhiannon was certainly not out of the realm of possibility.

"Psyche and Eros fall in love in every universe." Rhiannon said suddenly.

Perhaps she had meant to be cryptic, but Sanya understood that she meant not only the Psyche and Eros of myth.
Her heart underwent a little thrill- butterflies sprouted in her stomach- as the meaning washed over her.
She and Edmund fell in love in every universe that they existed in together. Their love would forever be truth- not just in their world, but in every one.
If nothing else, she hoped she remembered this part of the dream. She felt like her husband ought to know this.

"But not all universes have a Psyche, and not all universes have an Eros." The Faerie Queen continued, smiling again- no, no, it was a smirk this time, definitely. Or- was it? "In some, Psyche may be Persephone, and we know whom Persephone loves."

Sanya squinted at her, "Have you been reading my thoughts?"

"That ability is a rarity, and I- nearly omniscient though I may be- do not possess it." The Faerie Queen rolled her eyes, and gestured to the dream-world. "But this dream is your thought. It is not difficult to decipher the other thoughts you have in it, if you know how."

That didn't make any sense to her.
Could people be sleepy in dreams?

As soon as she thought the question, one of her eyes twitched- and she remembered what that meant. It was a tell-tale, one she knew she had experienced in other dreams, too, even though she didn't remember the rest of the dreams.

She was waking up.

Heavens, this was great.
She wasn't even being sarcastic! She hated waking up, but she also hated spending time with Rhiannon. Even if she was as naked and beautiful and siren-like as she remembered.
"Stay here, if you want." But a dream would die after the dreamer who dreamt it left, right? "I'm about to wake up."

Rhiannon frowned, "But-"

But she wasn't finished.
"Do not come into my dreams again." Her dreams were only hers- and if anyone wanted to come in, they best have her explicit permission.
Rhiannon was probably never going to get that permission.
At least she hadn't caused her knee to break this time, though. That was something.
She stood up, and gazed around this dream-world. It seemed like endless plain meadow, with rose-bushes and tulip shrubs- and she could faintly smell mango, somewhere in the distance. She loved mangoes- and that love had grown even more so during her pregnancies, and then never quite left her...
She'd walk towards the mango tree, wherever it was- no doubt she would wake up on the way.
"Goodbye, Rhiannon."

Rhiannon raised a hand in farewell, her other hand clenched in a fist. Mayhap she wanted to throw Sanya through a portal again.
"In the worlds where Psyche is Persephone, perhaps I am Hades." Rhiannon spoke softly- but she knew that Sanya, just reaching the border of roses and tulips, could hear her. "Hades loves Persephone."

Sanya stretched as consciousness sprinkled itself on her, and her bones cracked as she did so.

Oh, she was not going to get up now- absolutely not, the bed she lay on was too comfortable- but what had woken her up? She had no idea.

Was it a bad dream? But her heart would have been racing, then.

Was it just a weird dream? That was possible. Most of her dreams were very odd- she could tell from whatever few glimpses she remembered.

Ugh, she wasn't even properly awake yet. How was she capable of thought already!?

And it was only- she glanced at the clock, her gaze blurry- twenty minutes to five. Not even five in the morning yet!

She hated thinking.

She turned to the other side of the bed, and a drowsy smile came to her lips.
Edmund was asleep on his back, his mouth slightly agape and his hair mussed in an utterly adorable way.
But- she half-wished his back was facing her. She adored his back- as with the rest of him, the smooth skin of his back was covered in freckles. It was like a tapestry of stars. She liked counting them sometimes, when she couldn't sleep.
She had done it in their world, too. Even in a different world, the freckles were still in the same constellation-like pattern.
She would have liked to have his freckles to gaze at.
But she didn't mind her view right then.
He breathed steadily, his face relaxed, and he looked so at peace.
"You, I love." She mumbled, reaching out to smooth down his flannel pyjama top.
He was warm, too, she knew- comfortably so. He didn't like blankets while sleeping, but she- plus the pyjamas- was enough heat for him.
Her fingers shifted to the freckles on his cheeks- the light in the room was dim, and they weren't visible, but Sanya had memorised the location of all his stars years ago. She may not have his back freckles to look at- but his face freckles were there.
"Sho-so very much."

He shifted suddenly, and his eyes opened- just slightly, barely enough for Edmund to realise that his wife was awake and touching his cheek and gazing at him.
"Hi." He whispered. His throat felt scratchy- it was November the next day, and it had been bitterly cold the last few days. He had to remember to make some hot tea for his throat... "Staring at me?"

"Gazing's more romantic." She replied softly, and they scooted closer to each other. "Sorry to wake you."

"Ss'okay." He said thickly, throwing his arm over her. "Will fall back asleep in a mo'."

"Me too." She said, resting her forehead against his for a moment"When class?"
It was too early to use the verbs in every sentence.

"First at ten-ten. Last at two, but I've work with a professor after that."
He sighed then, closing his eyes for a moment as he remembered his schedule.
"I'll h-h-" he yawned, "have to set out even earlier, though, I have some work to do in the library."

Sanya pouted, poking his leg with her foot, "Do at home."
She wanted him to stay. She wanted him to always stay with her. It was the only thing she let herself want anymore- Edmund was the only one. She just adored him so much.

Edmund smiled sleepily, "So you can climb into my lap and distract me with kisses again?"

"That was only once..."

"Only once yesterday, you mean. You do it at least once every day that I come home with homework."
Honestly, though, he was just as much at fault. He should have the fortitude of mind to not be so quickly distracted by his darling's proximity- on top of him or not- but, well.
It was Sanya. He was rather weak when it came to her.
He didn't mind it.
"What about you, though?"

"Bookshop work, and then to Gran."
Yes, she, too, had to unfortunately be out all day.
First to the bookshop- which had a tentative opening date of the day after New Year's- and then to Finchley. She was going to visit her grandmother and play cards with her- it was an old vice of Maude from her youth, and one that had made a comeback in the last almost-two months.
It was a good thing that her husband would be busy, then. Otherwise, she would have been dealing cards while longing for Edmund to be the one she was playing with, like they had played in Narnia after she'd returned from the Faerie Realm.
"Enough talking." She said sluggishly, before rolling over, her back now against his chest.
His arm almost instinctively went around her to rest over her navel- and she was struck with how she never had to suck in her stomach with him. Well, she had done it for the first few months of their marriage- back in their world, of course- but had not bothered to do it after a while. He was the only one she didn't have to do it around, even now.
"Sleep spoon?"

Sanya was almost always the big spoon, and Edmund loved it- but he was also very fond of the few times that his wife asked him to be the big spoon, too.
And he did love cuddles.
"Of course." He said, pulling her closer and kissing her shoulder. "Good night- well, dawn."

"Good dawn." She murmured, her eyes shuttering already.
But she couldn't sleep- she forced her eyelids open- not until she told him something. Something she couldn't remember where she had realised- but it was something that was true. It just was.
"Husband?"

Edmund's eyes were already closed.
"Hm, Moonshine?"

"We'll fall in love in every universe." Sanya spoke quietly- almost dreamily, but she hoped he could hear how sure she was. "Sanya and Edmund, Psyche and Eros. We'll be together."

"Of course we will." Edmund said, nodding into her hair. He didn't know where that had come from, but it was possible that she was right. Their love was strong, no doubt- and the multiverse had to have some constants, didn't it? Perhaps their love was one of them- if not in every single universe, then in most of them. "I love you, Moonshine."

Sanya finally let her eyes close, a half-smile on her lips. She loved being in his arms, his chin resting on her shoulder as he held her tight.
"And I love you, Edmund."
--

"No." Mina said, her grip on her glass so tight it would shatter in a moment. "Absolutely, unequivocally no."

"It's not a marriage, darling." Alden Starling spoke soothingly to his daughter, unaffected by her fearsome glare. She had been glaring at them since she could hold her head up on her own. He was quite sure she was the reason for the grey in his hair. "We just want you to meet the fellow."

"We want you to meet the Earl's son." Iolanda added to what her husband had said, a pointed look in her blue eyes. "I thought you enjoyed meeting and playing those silly boys for a fool, meu querida."

"Oh, very much, but not when I know the intention for the meeting is marriage!"

"It is not marriage, Wilhelmina." Alden said sternly- but there was still utter stubbornness in his daughter's dark-hazel eyes, so like his own. "You aren't even nineteen yet! Do we look like parents who would marry you off as soon as you're old enough?"

Very hostilely, she practically spat out, "Yes."
The point about her not being nineteen was rather moot, though- she would turn that age in exactly a week, so as far as she was concerned, she was nineteen already.
She wasn't about to say that, of course. She would say nothing that her parents could weaponise against her.
"You know, I can just go around saying you've kidnapped me." She said, crossing her arms. "I don't look like either of you, people will believe me."

"You can't be kidnapped, you're not a child anymore."

"I can easily pass for sixteen, and I can always say that you kidnapped me when I was ten and kept me for all these years."

Her parents were not swayed, rolling their eyes in unison.

"You'll marry one day, Mina, but not now." Iolanda said, twisting her wedding ring. Her daughter simply always had to argue back! Every single time, no matter what- it was her defining trait, to always go against whatever she was told. "Since you've refused to go to university anytime soon, that's the only path left to you."

"Mon dieu, I told you, I wanted a year off before starting university! I'll apply next year-"

"By the time you begin university, you'll be almost twenty- or, even, actually twenty, if you start from the winter term instead of September." Her father said, a vein pulsing in his forehead. "Who starts university at twenty?"

"I know people who have done that." She muttered under her breath, thinking of Peter Pevensie and the very annoying things he said with his very pretty mouth. Oh, how she disliked him! Though making bets with him was fun.
Louder, she said, "I just wanted a break, Mama, Papa."

"All you do is have breaks." Her mother said, shaking her head. "When have you ever not lazed around, Wilhemina Calista Starling? Have you ever even poured yourself a glass of water?"

The young blonde bit her lip, and stared at the Manet painting on the wall directly opposite her. This is why she disliked being at home- although she adored the mansion itself- and being with her parents! They always cornered her about her future, or some other thing she did not want to talk about just as much. It had begun when she'd been expelled- and then it had never stopped.
"I-"

"The only time you ever made an effort was to find drogas for those twits at Clare's." Her mother snorted. "And what happened there? You got expelled."

Mina turned the full power of her glare to her mother.
"Then the moral of that story is to never make an effort."

"You're going out with the boy day after, no arguments. And then we leave for Paris to spend your birthday week."

Oh, Paris! Always a foolproof way to make her buckle to their orders. How she missed those macarons- and there was simply no view like starry Paris at night...
Plus, the cheese was magnificent.
"Are we staying at the chateau?" She asked curiously- last time, they had stayed at a hotel. While the service had been enjoyable, nothing compared to the chateau. She had grown up there. It was right outside of Paris, and she had used to pretend she was a Princess in a castle there when she had been small. If any of their many mansions was her true home- it would be that.

"Yes. The renovations are complete now-"

Iolanda interrupted, "Dear, Michel was saying something about drawing up plans about another fountain-"

Alden shook his head at himself, "Just because I mentioned how much I love fountains once..."

"At any rate, the renovations needed to make accommodation possible are over." Her mother confirmed. "And if you want us to slip out for a few hours the night of your birthday, you have to be on your best behaviour with the Earl-boy."

And the scowl was back. Sometimes it worried her that her gorgeous face may actually freeze like that- but she did not mind if that happened now. It would be for a great cause- showing disrespect to her parents.

"You can bring a friend along, if you like." Her father offered. "What about the Rainsford girl? She must be bored."

Mina rolled her eyes, "She's disgustingly in love. You don't get bored when you're that much in love."

"I meant, bored of playing housewife all the time." Alden laughed, reaching forward refill his glass of wine.
He had drained it in one sip as his daughter had walked in the room, because he knew he would need it.

"Love or not, no young girl enjoys being married." Iolanda shrugged, smiling at her husband as he moved to refill her glass, too. "And once the baby comes- good luck to Sanya."

"I don't think they're having babies anytime soon." She snorted- there was no way Edmund would be stupid enough to get Sanya pregnant while he was still a broke university student, and their only source of income that actually counted was from Sanya's inheritance.
Then again- love made people do crazy, insane, impulsive things. And her friend was already plenty reckless- and oblivious.
Hm, she was beginning to rethink her stance on this...
"But I can safely say that even a screaming newborn will not drive Sanya and Edmund away from each other. I don't even know how it's possible, but they feel like they've been ripped right out of a book. É curioso."

"Nothing curious about it. When you're with the right person, that happens." Her father nodded, glancing at his wife, whose smile grew. "Isn't that so, Io, love?"

"Indeed." She nodded, her tan cheeks slightly pink, and she kissed her husband's cheek.

Mina made a gagging sound.
But, inwardly, she was quite pleased. Who knew talking about her friend's early marriage would get her parents off her back? Certainly not she, and she had absolutely never used that tactic before!

Still, she'd start thinking of applying to universities- she'd take up psychology, if she had to. Anything to not be forced into a marriage before she was even twenty!

"Alright, alright, go away." Iolanda could only take so much of speaking to her daughter in a day. "The maid said that your friend Bonnie called to say she might be a bit late, but she'll be here."

She immediately got to her feet, "Excelente."
Bonnie, because she was studying geography in university- for some reason that not even she herself knew- was on a field trip somewhere nearby, and Mina had offered for her to stay the night at her house.

The offer had surprised Bonnie- frankly, it had surprised Mina, too. The two girls had never been overly close, and would possibly have hated each other, had it not been for Sanya.

But, now that Sanya was married, and neither of them exactly had any other close friends- well, it made sense for them to spend more time together. They had to make do with what they had.
Ooh, perhaps Bonnie would bring a birthday present for her.
"Au revoir, Mama, Papa." She stooped down to press kisses to each of her father's stubbled cheeks, and then her mother's smooth ones. "See you at supper."
--

"Fifteen years." Peter was saying, nodding at the bartender to fill up his glass more and more. It was five o'clock, it was an extremely acceptable time to drink. His brother and sister-in-law must have thought that, too- why else would they have sat at the bar instead of at a table? "Fifteen years-"

"Yes, yes, we've been married for that long, we get it." Sanya said, resisting the urge to empty his glass over his lap. She was finally starting to regret letting Peter join them at the pub for their anniversary date.

Oh, who was she kidding, she had started regretting it the moment he had stepped in.

But he had been so alone, and he didn't have friends- and if he did, no one else knew them. There was a reason he would drop by their home a lot of times. She and her husband were contemplating pretending to not be home the next time he came by.

Plus, although it was a Friday, he couldn't go home to Finchley because he had an interview for a job or internship or something at a surgery the next morning.

She definitely should pour his drink away, to make sure he didn't end up hungover...

Next to them, Edmund sat. He wasn't even saying anything, just forlornly drinking his seltzer. He was genuinely on the verge of ordering whisky, which would have been his drink of choice if he'd been a regular drinker.
It wasn't just the fact that he and Sanya were unable to spend their anniversary in a restaurant- too expensive- or by themselves- emotionally needy brother who was physically nearby- that was bothering him.

But he had lost one of his jobs, too! He had been tutoring a group of fourth-formers during the summer, and their mothers had assured him that the job would remain his during all their breaks, be it winter or Easter or summer.

They had lied, obviously, as he had run into one of them on the way to the riverside pub, and she had told him that his services would no longer be needed. To her credit, she had been kind and polite- but he was still pissed off!
He needed a job- especially since Sanya was not contributing anything from her side. He knew her bookshop would open soon, and he had to be patient- but how long could they survive on Maude Rainsford’s charity?

Though- well- it was not charity anymore. Sanya no longer had to take handouts from her grandmother, because she was now eighteen- a mere month and a half from nineteen, in fact- and so she had unfettered access to her fortune.

Still, they had to work hard to keep their lives at ease- but how could he work if he didn't have a job!?

He felt a sudden hand on his right arm, and he turned to see a young woman smiling at him.

"I applaud your choice of drink." She said, and raised her other hand, which had a glass of seltzer in it.
Edmund smiled politely, and she was spurred to speak on, "Do you study at Cambridge, by the way? Because I swear, I've seen you somewhere-"

"Er, yes, I do-"

The girl laughed, "Ah, I knew it! Otherwise, I must have seen you in a really lovely dream-"

But before she could say anything more, Sanya had appeared from his left and was glaring at her.
"Mine." She said, her voice practically a growl, and she held up Edmund's hand- his wedding ring visible plainly. "He's my husband. Go away."

"Oh!" She looked very surprised, and her cheeks were the same colour as her maroon hair. "Oh- er- sorry, I'm so- yes, I'll go."
And she very quickly walked away to her table, her head dropping down as soon as she sat down.

"That was unnecessary." Edmund said mildly, clasping his wife's hand. "I would have told her, you know that."

"Yes, but I just like saying it." She said flippantly, a grin on her face. And then her voice softened as she went on, "My husband. Mine."

"I like it, too. My wife."
Their faces were very close together.
"Moonshine." He murmured, watching her bite her bottom lip as she gazed at him. "Perhaps we should go home?"

"Yes."
She had been wanting to fuck Edmund since probably the moment she had first seen him a thousand years ago, but her desire for him had increased exponentially in the past two months. Increased to almost worrying limits.
Edmund did not complain, not even on the days he came home late and absolutely tuckered out. Of course, on those occasions, Sanya was kind enough to do most of the work.
Well, not work- pleasure.
Her husband's knee pushed against her thigh accidentally, and she almost howled.
"We should go- right now."

"We've ordered our food." He said ruefully, before pressing a quick kiss to her mouth. "We'll eat, and head back immediately, my love."

"Come on, please- I'll put on the Wonder Woman costume again- and I'll strip for you."

Aslan's fucking goodness fucking gracious fucking Mane.
He swallowed, and spoke as normally as possible, "Moonshine-"

Lust itched at her, and she had to dig her nails into the palm of the hand that wasn't holding his.
Her eyes swept around the pub- stopping, for just a moment, on the glass window outside which there was a lovely view of the river. There were cycles parked outside the pub, and the people walking on the street obscured her view, slightly, as did the slight snowfall- but she could see the pale water beyond them.
With difficulty, she tore her gaze away, and back to Edmund.
She shifted closer to him, and said quietly, "Bathroom."

"No." It was abominably difficult for him to say 'no' to her at any given time- but right now, while she was this close? It was nearly impossible. And then she had mentioned the costume, which made him feel crazy.
Despite that, however, he was absolutely not having sex in a public bathroom.

Just because they had snogged- and shagged- in the school bathrooms a few times...
"Absolutely not."

"You just have to suck me off," oh, she needed his tongue, she needed release, "nothing more-" and she needed to feel him, to see his face as she bobbed her head between his thighs, "actually, I'll suck your co-"

He clenched the table's edge, and shook his head.
"As much as I want that-" and as much as he loved to taste her, and have her lovely mouth around him, "no, Moonshine, sorry. Not here. It'd be cleaner to do it in a bloody hovel."

"Are there hovels nearby?"

"I can hear you two." Peter said, without looking away from his glass of very cheap scotch. "Please stop talking about this while your big brother is next to you."

Please? He must already be tipsy.
"Alright." Edmund nodded, and pulled Sanya over to one of the tables by the window.
It wasn't the best table in the place- but it had a river-view, which he knew his wife would like and which would distract her from her crusade to fuck him in the bathroom, and it was also away from the third wheel that was his brother.

"Pretty." Sanya whispered, her face almost as close to the glass as it had been to Edmund's lips. The snow had been falling harder in the morning, but she liked it better now- it was like a sprinkling of vanilla.

Edmund smiled, watching her. Due to past events, he could not quite compliment the snow without spiralling into bad memories- but he could agree with people about it.
"Yes." He nodded, glancing out the window for a moment. "But you're more beautiful."

Her smile grew- she could see it in her reflection- and she turned her face, finally facing him.
"I think we've established that you're biased when it comes to me, darling."
Oh, why were they on opposite sides of the table? She wanted to be right next to him- to be close enough to-

Calm down, a very small but very shrill voice shouted in her mind. You cannot give him a hand-job in public!

Just a little something until we get home. It's less conspicuous than sucking him off! No one will-

Not at all! The shrill voice said, and Sanya felt chastised. Remember when you were fifteen and you had absolutely no libido at all? Go back to that for the next hour!

What about a kiss? Just one?

Only if it's as chaste as a kiss you give your grandmother. You know, your sickly grandmother, who cheats at rummy-

"Moonshine?" Edmund asked- his wife was frowning so hard it was making him frown. "You alright?"

"Hm?" Sanya blinked, shaking her head slightly to pull herself out of her thoughts. Heavens, what was wrong with her? She could always- usually- control herself in public when it came to wanting to have sex with Edmund. But lately...
"Haan, I'm fine. Just arguing with myself."

He empathised with that, "The voices in your head are so annoying."

"I know, right? And they're always so loud-"

"And they have a habit of popping up at the worst moments-"

Instead of realising that they both needed therapeutic help, Sanya and Edmund went on gossiping about the voices in their heads- and stopped only when their food- two plates of fish and chips for Sanya, and a treacle tart for Edmund- arrived.

The topic of conversation moved to the fact that Sanya thought that the tart looked like pizza, which she had had in Boston- Edmund couldn't decide whether that thought pleased him or vexed him- and then, unfortunately, to household chores.

"My back is killing me, Ed." Sanya said- she would have slumped in her chair, but she was sure she would fall off. "I cannot wash clothes this weekend."

"You know I can't, either, I have that seminar both days." It was compulsory- and even if it wasn't, it was fascinating and he would've attended anyways. "And we need fresh clothes for next week-"

"We need a maid." She spoke with an eye-roll- she had been saying it for weeks. "I can ask Sarah to ask Ella if she knows-"

"We can't aff-" Abruptly, mid-word, Edmund cut himself off. "You know what, never mind."

Sanya looked blank- she knew what he would say, and he knew that she knew, so what was the point to not saying it?
"What?"

"It's our anniversary. Our fifteenth." The last two words were spoken in a whisper, because he knew the acoustics of this pub were excellent for eavesdropping. "It's bad enough Peter's here and we have to celebrate in a local pub, of all places. I don't want to argue about money, too."

"Me neither." She said, pressing her thumb and index hard against her forehead. It better not be a burgeoning headache- but, thankfully, this world had paracetamol tablets for that.

She had finished an entire packet of the tablets in October- which was partly why she had forced herself to be checked up again by Dr. Wright at the beginning of November.
He had told her she was fine, all her results were normal or not too worrying, and that the headaches were likely because she no longer wore her glasses.

"I just want to be with you." She said, and reached her hand across the table, his half-eaten treacle tart next to her wrist. "I don't mind that this isn't a romantic evening out under the stars. You're here, and that's all that matters."

His eyes softened, and he held her hand tight.
"I feel the same way." He promised her, brushing his thumb over the moonstone of her ring- but he could not help asking, "You mind it a bit, though, right?"

She flushed, "A little. I'll take a starry night over a pub outing any day."

"We'll have a picnic tonight." He said, though he knew there were no fresh sheets they could use to sit on. "Just us, my new torch, and cake. Perhaps a little stick-sparring after that."
He reached his other hand out, the one with his ring, and she grasped it immediately.
"It won't compare to starry nights in Narnia, but it'll be nice."

Sanya's smile turned teasing, "Edmund Pevensie, are you asking me on a date?"

Edmund laughed, before nodding.
"Yes, I am, Sanya Reza-Pevensie." It was her legal name now- the paperwork had gone through in October. "Would you do me the honour of saying yes?"

She wanted to lean over the table and kiss him.
But she remembered the shrill voice- and she decided, just this once, she would keep kissing him for later.
So, she just said happily, "I would love to."

"And we'll go home now, put on the fire, and we can-"

Her eyes were bright, "Snog?"

He laughed again, "I was going to say cuddle with a blanket on, but it does often turn into kissing, so sure."

"Being in your arms and under a fluffy blanket during this- this-" hm, what could she say instead of cold?, "sweater weather does seem much more preferable to babysitting Peter."
She squeezed his hands, smiling wider.
"I would love that, too."

Unfortunately for them, their plans were foiled- not by Peter, who was stopped after his third drink, and was escorted back to his dorm by Edmund, while Sanya waited outside the university gates- but by an unexpected visitor.

"Nick?" Sanya asked confusedly, as she and Edmund, hand-in-hand, came to a stop in front of their cottage, where the good doctor was standing. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Sanya. Edmund." He nodded at the two, a nervous smile on his face as he raised his hand in greeting. "How are you two?"

"Trying to celebrate our anniversary." Sanya said bluntly. "And you didn't answer my question."

"Shall we go in?" Edmund asked, looking to his wife. "I can put on a pot of tea, and I think there's chocolate biscuits-"

"No, no, I can't stay, I've to get back soon." The doctor said, shaking his head- though the biscuits sounded lovely. "I'm here for two reasons."
He stuck his hand in his too-full satchel- a few papers fell out, and Sanya bent to pick them up- they seemed to be health reports for some school.
"Thank you." He smiled at the younger girl, as he finally found what he had been looking for. "Here."

Edmund took the envelope that had been offered to them, and he read aloud the contents of what was inside it, "You are cordially invited to the wedding of Nicholas Curtis Wright and Evelyn Louise Potts on the twenty-third day of December at St. Mary Magdalene Church, Little Brickhill."

Sanya frowned as she heard the date, "So soon?"

Dr. Wright shrugged, "We wanted it in February, but Evie didn't get any time off. Beyond that, it would have been Easter, and that's too late."

"Both a doctor and a teacher have such busy lives." Edmund said thoughtfully, before asking, "Are you going to move to be closer to St. Finbar's, then?"

"Oh- no. Evie decided to resign the year after next, and then-"

"But Ms. Potts loves to teach!" Sanya said indignantly- she must love it, otherwise she would have given up teaching after the very first class she had had with her. "Why would she- did you force her, Nick? Women-"

"She's going to teach at another school in Milton Keynes." Nick ended calmly. "It was her decision, and even if she changes her mind, I'll support her."

"Are you sure that's what she wants, though?" The young woman probed, her eyes narrowed. She did not trust men, especially the ones here, and with good reason. "Because if she's leaving something she loves for you, and she's not completely sure- she will resent you for it."

Edmund swallowed, a lump sprouting in his throat, and he looked down at the snow-covered ground. He knew Sanya didn't resent him, not really, and she had assured him over and over again that she had wanted to come here with him- but it still upset him. Everything she had given up, or lost- all for him.

The doctor's calm expression vanished.
"I- er- I-" have to speak with my fiancée again, "I- had another thing to say."

Sanya looked interested again, as opposed to suspicious, "What is it? Engagement party?"
Not that she would go, obviously.

Engagement party, ha! Both he and Evelyn were far too old for that.
But Nicholas chose to not answer Sanya's query- for that could lead them into a tangent, and he'd end up not saying what he had come to say. He had to go straight to the point, no beating around the bush this time!

He pulled out another paper from his satchel- but this one, he did not hand over immediately.

"Sanya." He spoke quietly- and the girl felt icy fear wash over her, because this was the same tone he had told her she'd had a miscarriage in. "You're expecting."

She looked at him blankly, bewilderment clouding the fear, "Expecting what?"

God give him strength.
"A baby, Sanya. You're pregnant."

Sanya and Edmund were both stunned into silence.

"You're to have a baby." He said again, a lot less quietly- and he handed over the paper to the soon-to-be father, who took it automatically.
The hard part was over with now! And who didn't love babies?
"There was something odd with your samples from November, but it didn't occur to me what it might be until day before-" he had been talking with his father, "and then I got hold of a frog and-"
The teenagers were still silent, staring at him with gaping mouths, and he felt abashed.
"Well, no need to worry about the details. Congratulations, children. You'll be wonderful parents."
He was absolutely sure about that- despite their youth, they loved each other deeply, and they were kind. What more could a child hope for?

"No." Edmund managed to say, and then nothing again.
Some part of his mind was dimly aware that that was exactly what he had said when Sanya had told him she was pregnant with Selene- but he didn't know what else to say.
He didn't even know what to think!
They could barely take care of themselves now that they lived on their own- but a baby, too!?
He snuck a glance at his wife- her other hand had risen to palm her midsection, her eyes wide, and he was gratified that she looked as shocked as he felt.

Sanya found not even one word to say, and she just clutched her husband's hand tight, the other absently on her stomach.

Fucking what!? Shotti- ki!?

She and Edmund had been on the cusp of an argument about chores and money an hour and a half ago- and now they were going to be parents. Again. Parents again.
She felt like her knees were going to buckle. She would be a mother again.
With all the joys and the sorrows of it.
But that was only if- if this pregnancy didn't end too early, and the baby didn't die. She'd be going through fucking labour again.

And- what if she was as terrible a mother here, as she was in her world? What if she did something to this new baby that was just as vile as abandoning her children?

But Edmund would be here this time- by her side always, and he would never leave her. That would help. That would make all the difference.

And why did she never remember when her moonbloods had been? She had never been regular, which probably meant they wouldn't have helped in realising that she was pregnant or understanding when they'd conceived, but she should at least note them down somewhere!

And, and why did she always get pregnant just as they'd begun to settle into proper togetherness!? Selene had been conceived during a similar time!

So much for a carefree- well, not entirely free of cares, because that would never happen for them- newlywed life in the country.

Also, why was it called the country?
A country referred to the entire land- not a small rural bit of town. It was ekdom stupid.

How did she always manage to think fifty thoughts in the span of five seconds!?!
She squeaked out, "How long?"

Nicholas shrugged, as he did the clasp of his satchel.
"You're two months along, at least. Perhaps three." He said. "But I have to remind you that I am not a gynaecologist, Sanya. I'm a children's doctor, and I can't treat your pregnancy. I shouldn't even be treating you, in fact! However, my cousin is an obstetrician and gynaecologist, and he runs a maternity hospital not far from-"

"Come in for tea." Edmund said hoarsely- he was so glad that Sanya was holding his hand so tight, because otherwise he would likely have fainted.
A baby! An accidental child- again!?
This was bloody four for four, if Jem counted as an accidental baby- and five for five, if you counted the miscarried fetus!
He had to bloody get his sperm checked out.
He was thinking 'bloody' too much, which was unusual for him- but he couldn't help it! The situation bloody warranted it!
"We need to hear more about this."

Sanya nodded mechanically, "Yes, please."
She was pregnant. She was pregnant. She was pregnant. She was pregnant.
Oh, she needed to lie down. In bed. Clutching her puppy plushie. Covered in a soft blanket. Cuddling with Edmund. For the next seven months. For the next several lifetimes.

The doctor sighed, before nodding.
"Very well. Just for twenty minutes, no more."

All Edmund could think as the three walked towards the front door of their cottage, was that the chocolate biscuits best not have been finished.

And- though he would not admit it to himself until later- he was also thinking of which room could be turned into a nursery.

-
-✧･: °*✧*°:･✧-
-
Ioan Gruffudd as Alden Starling

-
Elsa Pataky as Iolanda Starling

-

(I love them a normal amount.
If normal means ‘insanely much’.)
-

(Since Sanya says 'sweater weather' in this chapter, I thought I should put up the edit to that song here 👀🌚
How perfect is it, though???? Sanya is warmth, and Edmund hates the cold, and they stay nestled together during the chilly days 🥺
She warms him, and he anchors her- forever ♡
They would both definitely listen to The NBHD- and Arctic Monkeys, too. FOR SURE.
Also, 'Sweater Weather' is a bi anthem.)
-

IT HAPPENED AGAIN, LMAO.
FOURTH UNEXPECTED PREGNANCY, LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

This is pretty much the biggest reason this chapter is titled 'Some Constants'. Unexpected pregnancy is quite the constant for them now 💀

Seriously, I think it's genuinely a miracle that in 'Alliance', it took five YEARS for Edmund to get Sanya pregnant. Maybe Jem's cute-toddler-ness kept their respective reproductive systems in control.

It's funny, though. Edmund is a strategist, and Sanya never likes to do anything, but they keep on actively having wholly unplanned children 💀💀💀

You know, Sanya and Rhiannon are the only ones to appear in each book of the 'Alliance' Series. Yes, a dream counts.
Wait, and Aslan. Ugh. Yes, Him, too. WAIT, hAs He appeared in this book???
Oh, yeah, the Narnia chapter...

I suppose if dreams count, then MAYBE the dream/vision that Seraphina had just before she was killed could count...in which case, Edmund is a character that appears as well. But that's an AU, so I'm not sure if that should count.

Sanya and Rhiannon have been supposed to be a darker, sapphic, unrequited, toxic Persephone-Hades version since 'Moonshine'. I think I might have even mentioned it in an author's note of that book. Ngl, I have a fair bit of interest in them, and I think I MIGHT ship them.
For the love of FUCK, they would be so hot. Hell, they ARE so hot. And Rhiannon is very much in love with Sanya, though it's a twisted, odd, hateful kind of love. She does love her. She's a faerie, she can't lie. But the love she has for her- it's not a love anyone would be lucky to feel or be on the receiving end on.

But- Edmund. It's Edmund. It's always Edmund for Sanya. It's been that way since she was sixteen and he eighteen. Edmund and Sanya, Eros and Psyche. They are the one who are meant to be.
Every universe that Edmanya exists in together- they'll find each other.

I love it when they spoon and cuddle 🥺

Mina possibly being thrown into an arranged marriage- I just wanted to write the scene as a callback and homage to what this book started as. As an arranged marriage AU. Seriously, before deciding on the title of 'Alliance', the Word Document was called ArMa AU.
I wanted to show how different Mina's attitude is to arranged marriage compared to Sanya's- both very hostile @ it, but Sanya succumbs to it because it's her duty and responsibility. Mina, however, remains hostile, uncaring of anything except her own will and want.
Also, writing her parents was fun. They're rich and remote, but they do really love their daughter. Finding faceclaims was a pain, though- not just because of the ethnicity, but because Anya Taylor-Joy has such an unique face. Ultimately, I put the line 'I don't even look like you', since neither faceclaim resembles her at all, so that makes me get off scot-free.

I reread the scene while editing, and the part where Mina doesn't know what to do with life and her parents are hounding her- I forgot how much I put my own self and experience in that part.

Edmund and Sanya are too nice to Peter.
And, Peter, you're a student at university. Instead of third-wheeling your brother and sister-in-law on their fifteenth anniversary, why don't you go sleep? We uni students are always SORELY in need of more sleep.

Also, I keep imagining Lily Collins as the girl who tried to hit on Edmund (before Sanya came up snarling), and I don't like that, because I have vowed never to cast Lily Collins, Adelaide Kane, or Elle Fanning in any fic. NEVER. Nothing against the actresses, they're just WAYYYYY too overused.
Eh, the girl doesn't have a name and isn't in the cast list, so it doesn't matter what I imagine.

Sanya iS pregnant, by the way. She IS. It's not a false alarm. Dr. Nick got a frog and all to confirm it (pregnancy tests back then was basically using a frog and doing something wacky with it. I don't remember, I'll have to look it up again).
And I'm pretty sure that, in his nightly prayers, Edmund will be thanking every God he knows for his wife being put into a rich family in this world.

Also, the first hint that she's pregnant is when Sanya asks Edmund to be the big spoon after she wakes up from her dream. It's mentioned in 'Alliance' that, she liked to be held like that while she's pregnant- it makes her feel cared for and protected.
Also, Rhiannon's 'new child' part COULD also work as a hint, but I don't see how she could have known that Sanya is pregnant. She probably did mean the miscarried fetus, now that I think about it. Then again, it's the Faerie Queen, so who even knows.

By the way, Sanya's hypersexuality and hypersensitivity to Edmund's proximity isn't her losing whatever little sexual inhibition she had (yes, she still has SOME.)
It's just hormones. 'Hormonal insanity', as was said in Ch45 of 'Alliance'.
It makes her VERY horny.

Can you imagine there was once a time when the only sexual thing linked to Sanya was her having read a few paragraphs about it in books?
And now, four books later...

Too bad their to-be date got interrupted. Stick-sword-fighting, stargazing, and a picnic in their cosy garden is truly the definition of a perfect date for them.
Maybe Edmund would have shown Sanya constellations again- and told stories about them as well.
Per aspera ad astra, my babies.
Anyway, so much for a peaceful fifteenth-anniversay 🤷‍♀️ at least they were together for this fifteenth. The past fifteenth, Sanya was alone and grieving.

Well, Edmanya, you've had six-seven months of somewhat-carefree married life.
(I think. They got married in May, right?)
Time to pack it in now 💀💀💀

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