I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
-

The waves would have lulled anyone to sleep, whether they were watching them or listening to them, but Sanya had never felt more awake.
She didn't know how long she had been watching the endless expanse of the Ocean, but she could have stayed like this for ever and even after that.

Though it was still light outside, the stars were out- as was the Moon. The sky would be purple soon, but it was gold and glowing for now.
The Moon was shining brightly and casting a ray of luminescence over the surface of the aquamarine water, a silvery road for angels and fairies of fairytales to follow on their way to the horizon.
She didn't even know what time it was.

It was just so peaceful. It was the most peaceful she could ever feel.

And if she wasn't so content and comfortable with her current position, she would have run into the water and splashed about in it, laughing madly.
Well- she didn't have to go into the water for that.

Sanya smiled, and made a beckoning gesture with her finger.

The waves had flown slowly before that, lethargic and sleepy as she always was- but at her beckoning, its pace quickened. It obeyed her request instantly, the next wave of water flowing past the sandy-gold beach and to the porch of the little house that she was sitting on.

She stretched her legs and submerged them in the water, giggling as it tickled her toes and not at all caring that it was making her lehenga wet. Bending down, she dipped her hands in the water, too- it was cool, tempering her natural warmth, and it felt as calming as watching the waves had.

"You're playing in the water and you didn't invite me?" Came a jesting voice behind her, and Sanya's smile grew wider as she turned around. "Tsk, tsk, Moonshine, I'm wounded."

"Oh, hush, Edmund. I'm just putting my feet in." She spoke with an eye-roll, as her husband sat down on the porch-steps next to her. "And I thought you were putting the babies to sleep!"

Edmund was smiling as he replied, "I was, which is why it's even worse, because you didn't invite our children either!"

"Your crown is askew." She said instead of responding to that, reaching forward to poke the silver crown. She wasn't wearing hers- solely because she had already almost lost it while swimming once, and she was not risking it again. "Who was playing with it this time?"

Just as his wife had ignored his accusation, Edmund decided to ignore the question- an action he knew would make her realise that all of their children had messed about with his crown- and said instead, laughing, "You know, darling, you can fix the crown instead of just poking it."

"Poking it is so much more fun, though." She shrugged, giggling again as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder, and her eyes went to the stars around the Moon, all glowing together.

The light from the celestial bodies spread over the two of them, bathing them in silver- they looked up at the sky for several moments, at the stars and the Moon, and then glanced at each other with small, contented, adoring smiles.

She took back her words- this was the most peaceful she could feel.

She nudged him with her shoulder slightly, "You didn't answer my question, darling."

"That's because you already know the answer." He squeezed her tighter, and she giggled, confirming what he said. "Still, I am sorry. Despise me, if you dare."

"Indeed I do not dare." Sanya smiled softly as she finished the quote, and tilted her head close to his to press a featherlight kiss to his lips.
It wasn't simply a matter of daring- she didn't think she could hate Edmund. She had, once, she knew- but once she had fallen in love with, such deep love that it lasted even till this very moment- well, that love could never blacken to hate.
"Oh, do you want to play in the water, my love? It's blue, you know- your favourite."

"After a bit." He said, kissing the top of Sanya's head. "I'm too content in this moment."

"Me too, husband."

"I'm glad to hear that, Moonshine." He said, and she looked up at him again. She looked into his lovely dark eyes, and she wondered how she could ever make herself leave this current moment. "We're happy, aren't we? You're happy."

"Unimaginably so." Oddly enough, tears came to her eyes- which she didn't understand. She was happy. She was happy! She shouldn't be crying. "You make me so-"

But then a wail rose, and Sanya broke off, turning in alarm. It came from the silvery path of light that the Moon had cast onto the Ocean, and the sound grew louder with every twinkle of the stars.

"Sanya. Sanya, what's wrong?" Edmund asked worriedly. He took her hand as he saw panic flare up in her eyes, and he couldn't understand why. "What-"

"That- the sound, it's-"

He was very worried- but he was also a bit suspicious.
"You're not having a lark, are you?"

"What, no- no, I'm not- can't you hear-"
It was so loud, she thought she was being deafened. And another sound, a similar wail, had joined the first, and it was maddening! Where did it come from, and why was it destroying this tranquil moment with the love of her life?!

"No, I can't, there's no sound but that of the waves, Moonshine-"

The wailing had become so loud she couldn't hear the waves- or, soon, Edmund.
She turned to her husband, seeing his mouth open as he kept speaking- but she could hear nothing. She could hear nothing but the rising cries from the Ocean-

The Ocean! The water- her element.

Her hands on his cheeks, Sanya kissed Edmund, who still looked confused and concerned.

Then she rose from her seat, despite not wanting to leave him at all, and she strode forward towards the water's edge. She didn't want to let him go, but she felt compelled. She didn't think she had a choice.

She did not stop until she had fully submerged herself inside the water.

There was no sound here, of the wailing or the waves or Edmund's laugh. She could only see the blueness of the water around her.

It was peaceful in a different way. A more unsettling, sadder way.

Just as the thought crossed her head, the wailing started again, right in her ears- and she gasped in alarm.

Water went into her mouth, down to her throat, filling her lungs- the wails grew louder, and she screamed.

And then Sanya was awake, sitting in the rocking chair- she was panting and sweating as the dream and the sleep shook off her.

It would have taken longer, usually- but the crying of twin babies did wonders in waking someone up.

"I'm here, I'm here." She spoke with a yawn as she got to her feet, walking to the large bassinet, where the unearthly wailing was coming from.

She had forgotten how fucking annoying the crying of newborn babies was and how little parents slept in the first few years- but these last six months had reminded her of that, and how! She hadn't slept for more than half an hour in half a year. Half a year!

And the last time she had felt vaguely sane, had been on the fifteenth of August, when the news had come out that India had finally achieved its independence from the British. She had let out a very quiet cheer upon reading the headlines in the newspaper- but then she had become subdued a moment later, when she had read that the country had been divided in two. How cruel, how inhuman, to carve a nation in two.

She knew how painful it was to have something be carved into pieces.

That had been almost three months ago.
It was the end of October now.

The twins usually slept in their double cribs, but sometimes when they kept wriggling, she put them in their shared bassinet- it had become clear to her that, in some moments, they needed to be as close as possible to each other.

Despite the- unrest and cacophony that came from their double cribs or the bassinet day and night, the babies were wonderful. They were so cute, with their chubby cheeks and toothless grins and their fidgety limbs.

Emeraude had started giggling about a month and a half ago, around Edmund's would-have-been-twentieth birthday, while she and her mother had been watching an episode of Looney Tunes. Syed had followed suit a few weeks after that, while being tickled by his mother.

When they weren't gigging, they were doing other things- like crying and vomiting and spitting up and pooping just as she was about to put diapers on, and peeing on her while she was reading or writing in her diary, and screaming when she left their lines of vision, and having fluctuating attitudes towards breastfeeding. Sometimes Syed preferred a bottle and Emeraude the real thing, while it was vice-versa at others, and it drove Sanya insane. She recognised that the indecisiveness had come from her, but seriously!

The cuteness and the giggling and their warmth as she held them close to her almost made up for all that. Almost. Almost.

"Please stop crying." Sanya cried- yes, she was already crying, and it had hardly been two minutes since she had woken up. "Please, please stop crying."

The babies did not stop crying. If anything, they cried even louder.

"What do you want?" She asked, reaching into the bassinet with both hands, hoping that perhaps they just needed her touch. Syed slapped her hand away, while Emeraude attempted to scratch it with non-existent sharp nails.
"I fed you half an hour ago, I changed you after that, you have a small army of plush toys around you- what more do you want!?"

She couldn't even pick them up, not them both at the same time! And if she picked up one and that baby fell silent, then the other would cry even harder, which meant that the first one would start crying again. She had tried that before, and it had ended like that every single time.

Obviously, it was possible to hold twins at the same time, but she needed some assistance for that- and she had nothing.
She was alone.

Emeraude and Syed kept crying, their cute faces red and crumpled- they would be exhausted, soon, and it could make them ill. They had already been sick just at the beginning of the month, and it had been hellish.

"Emmy, Sy, please." She said, feeling like sinking down to the floor and through it.

For fuck's sake. She wished she had been put under a sleeping curse- at least their crying wouldn't have woken her up then!

But, immediately, she banished the thought from her mind. She couldn't think that- she did not want to! She was their mother, she loved them- she would take care of them, no matter what!

Still, she felt so miserable. She felt overwhelmingly drained.

She wanted to drown. She wanted to drown like she was drowning in that dream.

She still remembered her dream, she realised with a jolt. She remembered Edmund's embrace, his smile, his eyes. She remembered the Moon and the stars- and the waves. She remembered the house by the Ocean, on the beach. She remembered!

She had to write it down in her diary as soon as she could- oh, she had to. She was writing down almost everything she could think of in the diary nowadays- she was finally regular with it, something that had begun after the Pevensies' funeral.

"Please stop crying. For me, for your Mumma."
Tears streamed down her face, too, just like their babies'.
"Or for your Daddy. Not for me, but please, for him."

But they did not stop.

"I'm sorry. I am so sorry you won't have a father. And I'm sorry that your mother is an absolute-" train-wreck, she had been about to say, but that felt painfully nauseating to say, "mess. I'm just so sorry. I can't do this, but I have to, even though it's so hard, and I'm sorry that you'll have to live with me. You deserve better."
She cried quietly for a moment, only slight sounds escaping her lips. Even though she cried almost every day, it was still odd to her- to show such emotion so openly, even if it was only in front of the babies.
"Y-you deserve Edmund."

He had always calmed their children's tantrums. He'd managed to stop their crying when she couldn't, which had been more often than not. He had rocked them, sung to them, walked with them, done whatever was needed to make their children calm and happy again. He'd been the most wonderful father.

Not quite knowing what she was doing, she began to sing, her voice wobbly, "Twinkle, twinkle, little star."

Edmund's song. Oh.

The twins still kept crying, but Sanya went on, "How I wonder what you are,"

What was after that? It had been a thousand years since she had heard Edmund sing this to Selene- a moment embedded deep in her mind, something she would never forget.

She had told him she loved him for the first time while he had been singing this. How could she let that moment slip from her memory?

But she could not say the same about remembering the exact lyrics.

"Up above the world so high, like a di-diamond in the sky."

Finally realising that their mother was singing, and being extremely taken aback by that, the twin babies fell silent, staring at her with wide brown eyes.
Maybe they were quiet because they were flabbergasted at how terrible their mother was at singing.

"Um- I- our dearest prince and princess- Sy and Emmy- shining, glowing and so very- pretty-"
What was she even saying? And why was she singing!?

She wished he was here. He should have been the one singing this. Not her. It should have been him and her and all of their children, happily together. Not just her and two of their children.

Heavens, she could hardly even see- she wasn't crying anymore, but her vision was clouded by unshed tears.

But then Syed raised his little hands, as though asking her to keep singing- and she was encouraged, despite the ache in her heart.

"I cannot b-believe it, but we are absolutely lucky-"

The most serendipitous of serendipities.
Edmund had told her that about Selene- but she reflected now that it was true for all their children. 

Sanya kept singing, her voice quietening as she neared the end of the rhyme.
"To be blessed with such wonderful gems," Emeraude giggled sleepily at that, perhaps knowing with some baby-wisdom that her name came from a gemstone, "Precious beyond our imaginations and even then."

She did not sing anymore, and she did not speak for a few seconds. She didn't even look at the babies, anxious whether eye contact would set them off again.
The room was quiet, almost bordering on peaceful, and she was deadly scared of making one wrong move or any sound at all, and bringing about chaos again.

Finally, when she started being anxious about whether the babies had- Heavens forbid- died or something, she looked down into the crib again.

Emeraude was asleep, peacefully and looking like a cherub, and Syed was quiet next to her, sucking his fist calmly as he looked up out of the crib.

What a surprisingly and shockingly peaceful ending to their most recent tantrum. They almost never quietened this easily.

"Thank you." Sanya whispered, her face almost crumpling as the relief washed over her. They were quiet. Oh, they were quiet! "Thank you, babies, thank you."
She then reached in and picked up Syed- she knew he was considerate and would likely not disturb his sister's nap, but she didn't want to take any chances. Besides, Emeraude slept better on her own.

"Come here, baby." The young mother whispered to their son, pulling him close to her chest and rocking him gently as she walked back to the rocking chair. He was gurgling softly now, grabbing at the collar of her sweater- and he wasn't crying.
"Do you want me to read to you? I'm quite bad at telling stories, according to your older siblings, but I think you're too young to realise that right now."

Syed tugged at her sweater again, resting his head against her shoulder. His breathing was getting slower- he must have been close to sleep, too.

She settled in the rocking chair, the baby in her lap.

She stayed here all the time- she even slept here. Mostly to be near the babies- partly because every other room hurt her- but sometimes, she had the eerie feeling that there was something sinister lurking in the house. Some spirit or ghost- and not Edmund's, because his ghost would only give her happy feelings, and he would be the sweetest and most loving supernatural presence ever- that lurked in the rooms whose memories she most remembered.

She knew there was nothing, that it was just her overactive imagination, her paranoia- her grief dialled to another level- she'd never lived alone, after all.

Still, she felt better while sitting in the rocking chair and being in the nursery.

"Once upon a time," Sanya started, shifting slightly so his soft head fit better in the crook of her arm. He looked up at her with drowsy eyes, and she smiled tenderly down at him.

The two babies truly were her only reasons to keep living.

"Once upon a time, there was a lamppost in a snowy clearing..."
--

Susan fixed her coat, feeling strangely nervous, before she finally rang the bell. She'd been hesitating for almost ten minutes - and, if she was being honest, she was only ringing the bell now because the December cold was getting to her.

"Coming!" She heard a voice shout from inside, which was followed by immediate high-pitched cries.
Then came the sound of running feet, as the cries became louder, and the front door opened.
"Oh, Susan." Sanya said, blinking as she took in the person in the doorway. Snow was falling behind Susan, and that surprised her, too- it hadn't snowed the entire week! "You are- not the half of Susan-and-Bonnie I was expecting to see."

"Yes, I know, Bonnie told me you're supposed to have dinner together, and that she's staying over. I- I thought I would see if I could join?"

"Yes, sure. Why not, there's enough room." She never slept, anyway, so she wouldn't need a bed. "And enough food, too."

"Thank you." Susan said awkwardly. "Merry Christmas, by the way."

"Merry Christmas to you, too." She replied just as awkwardly, before lapsing into terribly uncomfortable silence.

She felt very frumpy, as she looked at Susan- at her polished face and her carefully-set hair and the dress with green polka dots that matched with her coat. She was glad she was managing to take care of herself, since she knew that her sister-in-law was swimming in a similar ocean of grief as she was- but seriously.
Sanya was wearing one of Edmund's rugby jerseys and she hadn't changed her pyjama bottoms in a week- she hadn't washed her hair in almost that long, either, and it looked like it was dripped in grease. Oh, and she didn't even want to get started on her face!

She also missed swimming very much.

"You look- very beautiful."

"Do I? I was aiming for professional." She spoke with a small laugh. "I had another job interview- similar job, and pays better money than the one I'm at now," as a salesperson for a departmental store, "but hours are longer."

"Still sales?"

"Rather a mix between sales and assistant store manager."

"You should take it." Sanya shrugged- and it was as she did that that she realised that she hadn't asked her sister-in-law to come in. And that the babies were still screaming!
Oh, there was so much wrong with her.
Quickly ushering the older girl in, she walked to the drawing room, where the babies were wailing in their little playpen. Now seven months old, they were sitting up with support and had learnt to coordinate their tantrums and needs such that Sanya was forced to be close to them each and every single second of the day.

Syed had also learnt to roll over from his back to his stomach and back again, while Emeraude's pursuit was more intellectual- she had come up with sounds for specific objects. 'Ooh-m' was for Sanya, 'bah' was for her brother, and 'mm' was used interchangeably for several objects, from the cat to their plushies to Sanya's moon necklace, which both babies loved to grab while feeding.
But both of them had still not learnt to sleep through the night, or to be peaceful for more than half an hour.

"It's your auntie, you cantankerous cuties." She said listlessly as she crossed over to the playpen next to the piano. Sy was screaming wordlessly at his rattle, while Emmy had tears down her chubby cheeks in addition to the screaming- and so, their mother picked her up first, sensing that whatever was bothering the two of them was affecting her more. "Come on, aamar shona darling, Mumma's here. Yes, yes, I'm here now, shhh, it's going to be alright, I pr-"

"Can I hold Sy?" Susan asked suddenly, staring down at her crying nephew. She'd noticed the Christmas tree in the corner for a moment, mostly sparse save for a few baubles and smiling Santa Clauses and the star on the top of the tree- but then her attention had been taken by the baby. "Perhaps he just needs someone to hold him?"

Sanya doubted that, since she was holding Emmy and she was still crying, but she nodded.
"Yeah, of course you can, it's alright. Just be careful with his neck, please- and sit down once you have him, it makes me nervous to see someone walk with them."

Maybe not that alright, but it was better than not letting anyone within fifty kilometres of them.
She could hardly bear to have anyone else take care of them and hold them- she hated losing sight of the babies as much as they hated losing sight of her. She just had to look after them all the time, she had to- she couldn't leave them alone.

That was probably why she hadn't hired a nurse- or a nanny, as they were called here- though she absolutely and desperately needed assistance. She asked Mrs. Quintrell, one of her neighbours, to be with Emmy and Sy the few hours a week she had to head into her bookshop- but apart from that, she had no help.

She wondered what her old self would have thought of that. Sanya of Rihaaya would've been so utterly horrified of everything Sanya Rainsford had done.

"Okay." Susan nodded, reaching into the playpen and carefully bringing the infant into her hold. He was so warm and cuddly, and she instantly pulled him closer to her. "Hello, baby. Hi, hi, hi. Has somebody been mean to you?"

"Give me names if anyone has, I'll go decapitate them." Sanya said from where she was rocking Emmy in her arms.
No, she was not exactly joking. She would kill anyone who hurt them.

Turning her attention to their daughter again- oh, she was still crying, why wouldn't she stop!?

Sanya's rocking turned almost violent, hoping the fast action would shock the baby into sleeping.

But she still kept making sounds, damn it. Maybe she should see whether cartoons were playing on the television- if Loo-

But then she realised the sounds weren't of crying- they were giggles.

Emmy was laughing!

"You're enjoying this, after you?" She asked, amused, and Emmy giggled even harder.
The more vigorous the bouncing became, the more she laughed.
"You would've enjoyed horse-riding, my dear princess, I know it."

Hearing this and being rather surprised, Susan asked, "Whenever did you ride a horse?"

The bouncing stopped for a good few seconds, though the baby's gurgles of mirth did not, as the former High Queen tried to puzzle out what to answer.
It was she who had said to not attack Susan's coping mechanism.
But that had been so long ago, and the coping mechanism was more harmful than anything else now.
Finally, she settled on the truth.
"In Rihaaya."

"Is that in India?"

"No, it's my country back home." She said quietly- she was looking at the Christmas tree, not at Susan, because she didn't want to see the look on her face. She knew what she would look like- like she was insane. "In my world."

"You've got to be joking." The other woman said, and she walked to where Sanya was standing. She hadn't been accosted by mention of this other 'world' in very long, but it riled her up as much as it had the first time her siblings had said that they thought the world true. "Seriously? You believe in that bloody game, too?"

"It's not a game, Susan."
She still did not look at her. She couldn't, not when she had tears in her eyes.
"It was my home. My life."

Susan was the last person living who had been to Rihaaya, who had known her home, who had been part of that world- yet she refused to believe it. It made her angry beyond words nowadays, but it also broke her heart. Her pain, though, was surely much less than the pain felt by Edmund, Lucy, and Peter for the same reason.

She hadn't cried today- the first day in months. She had thought of Edmund the entire day, as she had sadly eaten cookies and tiredly put the Angel on top of the tree and while putting the babies in matching jumpers and while reading The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle, which was the closest thing to a Christmas-themed Sherlock story- but, somehow, she had managed to keep herself from sobbing. She had really thought she would make it through the entire day without crying.

Of course she had been wrong.

She never got anything she hoped for.
And even if she did- it didn't last long.

Susan counted to ten, and held Syed just a bit tighter- the baby had stopped crying, and was transfixed with the bow of her dress- because she did not want to shout at her sister-in-law.
But she had just never thought she would be believing something so utterly unbelievable! Sanya was a realist, for all she daydreamed instead of doing work- she, of all people, ought to know what was real.
This world was real. This world was what they had.
"Sanya, I understand the appeal of living in fantasy-"

"It's not fantasy, Susan." She cut her off immediately. "Fantastical, yes, but it was- is real. And you knew that, once."

"I believed in it, yes, when I was a child. When I was younger, and I thought that things created from childish fancies were the most important thing in life." She shook her head then, sighing. "Then I grew up."

"You didn't grow up, you just repressed it." Sanya knew a thing or two about repression. "Because it was too painful. And I get it, Susan, I've lost so much, too, and forgetting is easier than-"

"Please stop talking, Sanya. I know we had a connection, back in Boston-"

"What a romantic way to say we were both lonely and so had sex for a few weeks." Sanya laughed bitterly, without humour- but she wasn't wrong. They had had sort of a bond, then. "But still, that was before, Susan. You still believed in Narnia then, and you knew who you had been. But you've lost that now."

Susan was starting to get heated, and she had to take deep breaths again so she did not yell. "I love my siblings. I love all of them, each and every bit, and it pains me everyday to know I'll never see them again. But I won't believe in their delusion."

Oh, her siblings were absolutely not the delusional ones here.
Edmund would have been able to talk to her better. More wisely, more calmly. He would've- he would've done this better.

She went on, "Say what you want, but I'm not going to be- to be guilted into remembered something that isn't true."

"I'm the True Queen, Susan." Sanya said flatly, after she sniffed her baby's head, hoping it could calm her down. "I wouldn't ask you to believe anything false."

"True Queen?" Her eyes went up, and she laughed mockingly. "What, was Real Queen taken?"

"I'm not going to get into this when the babies are here."
She couldn't believe she had stayed calm through it so far. She had wanted to punch through a wall since her sister-in-law's first question.
"You're getting your life together and are being responsible, which is excellent, but I just- I can't believe you don't believe in- no, no, I just said I won't talk about this when Emmy and Sy are here."

She wanted Edmund to be here.
If someone had to confront Susan about this, it should have been her husband and his siblings first, while she stayed at their side and supported their agenda.
It shouldn't be her alone.

"I don't wish to argue at all, especially not right now, either." Susan's voice was calm, controlled- and, though perhaps it may have been Sanya's imagination, there was a trace of gentleness in it. "I've grown out of my siblings' childhood delusions, but that doesn't matter."
That felt like a lie, somehow. Even though she knew she was telling the truth. Yet- the words come off her tongue strangely.
"What matters is them- Peter, Edmund, and Lucy. What matters is my siblings and my parents. They may be gone and buried, but that's what matters to me. That's what is important- what I love- my family."

Sanya was somewhat moved by her words, but she was not in a forgiving mood. She was more in the mood for a sword fight.
"But you call their home a delusion, still." She returned, before inhaling the scent of her baby's head. Oh, so calming. "Even though that is what they love."
Loved.

Thankfully, before Susan could begin to launch barbs again, there was the sound of the front door unlocking and then Bonnie's voice, "Hello, hello! Auntie Bonnie's here!"

"As is Uncle Alfie." Said her younger brother, as both came into the drawing room. "With pie!"

As soon as Bonnie saw Susan, she let out a squawk of happy surprise and immediately bounded over to her to kiss and hug her. The baby in between did not appear to deter her.

Alfie grinned at them, and then looked at Sanya, "Mum and Dad left for their twenty-fifth anniversary trip a week ago, and I think they won't come back until their fiftieth."

"True love tends to make you lose track of everything except each other." Sanya shrugged, smiling a little at the younger boy- she decided then and there to not continue her conversation with the once-Gentle Queen again.

She hoped she wouldn't be alone with Susan again for a long time. Though she was the only one who came even close to understanding her grief- Sanya did not want her around.

Susan just- she just- she was denying home. She was denying something that was most important to the love of Sanya's life- more important than even her. She was denying home- something that Sanya would never, ever have again, and would always yearn to return to.

How could she want to be near to someone who did that?

Besides, if they had a conversation like this again, it might not be a wall that she'd want to punch.

"Merry Ca-Ch-Christmas, Alfie."

He smiled politely, "Thanks."

"Mina will be here on New Year's." Sanya said, as Bonnie walked to her to give her- and Emeraude, by extension- a hug.
They embraced for a good few moments, before her best friend pulled away, kissing the baby's shoulder.
"And she said that I should have handed Emmy and Sy to my grandmother, and spent Christmas in Paris with her."

Mina had telephoned her that afternoon. She telephoned most days, since she wasn't able to visit half as much as Bonnie could. Although telephone calls vexed Sanya- she didn't absolutely hate that little company, however remote. Even Clarke called some days. It was usually he who initiated them, but she had been the one to telephone him on the seventh, to wish him a Happy Hanukkah. They had spoken on the telephone for almost an hour.

Loneliness. It changed even her.

"Invitation extended to you, too, Bon."

"Perhaps next time." She shrugged, before glancing at her girlfriend. "What about a romantic trip in Paris next Christmas, sweetheart?"

They hadn't ever taken a trip together. Now that she had a job, perhaps they could. Well, it wasn't a job-job, since she was only a substitute teacher at a school in Finchley- but if all went well, she could be made permanent by the next school year!

Susan would obviously be answering in the affirmative, but she was cut off by the babies starting to cry again.

"Right." Sanya walked towards Susan, and gently pried Sy from her grip to hers- it was difficult to hold both babies, but she was getting better at it.

She didn't think she would be able to get up the stairs carrying both, though- well, Bonnie was there, what else were best friends for?

"Bedtime for you two, shona duto."

Not exactly bedtime, since they didn't even have sane sleeping schedules, but she put them down for a nap right around the time she had dinner.
They were usually awake by midnight again- Sanya would stay awake with them until around dawn, when they fell asleep again. She would catch an hour or two of sleep at that time.

And that was how it went that night, too.

The dinner had been wonderful- if only the food was how its merit was measured. It was a smaller turkey than most families had on Christmas- but Sanya had assumed that it would just be she, her best friend, and her best friend's little brother, and she was the only one of them with any real appetite. Susan coming didn't make much difference- she never ate much at supper, preferring to have hearty lunches instead.

In regards to all else- it was passable.

Although Susan did not even look at Sanya, she was more than happy to hold Bonnie's hand under the table and chat with Alfie- and although Sanya felt the urge to throw drumsticks at Susan the entire meal, she settled for asking questions about Christmas traditions and focusing only on eating the turkey.

Mostly eating the turkey.

If Alfie and Bonnie noticed anything off between the two sisters-in-law, they wisely said nothing. Most likely, the joyous spirit of Christmas had kept them from noticing the tension between them, because the tension was definitely not joyous.

After the meal, Sanya and Alfie watched cartoons on the television, while Susan drank the eggnog Sarah had bought the previous day- mixed with rum that she had brought the last time she had been here- and Bonnie rearranged the ornaments hanging on the Christmas tree.

After an hour of that, Susan staggered off to the spare room to sleep off her tipsiness, while Alfie didn't even make it to any room, he fell asleep in the armchair itself.

"He looks comfortable." Bonnie muttered, cracking a grin at how wide her brother's mouth was. She had settled into one of the armchairs when she felt she had done all that was possible to salvage the tree. "I swear, he can fall asleep anywhere."

"Makes one of us." Sanya answered, feeling rather sleepy herself.
Her eyes were almost closing, and not even staring into the bright flames of the fireplace kept them open. If anything, their crackles made her sleepier.
But she couldn't sleep- what if the babies woke up early? They did that fairly often.
"Should I get him a blanket?"

"No, he's fine. You've got the fire on." She shrugged, laughing still. "Very commendable you managed to put it on yourself."

"Yes, I'm marginally good at starting fires."
Courtesy of her terrible time in the fucking awful Forest of the Gods.

Bonnie spoke jokingly, "No wonder you always talked about burning down the school."

"I would have been very good at setting that fire." There was a very small smile on her face as she replied to her best friend.
She paused for a second, before saying, "I'm sorry your parents aren't here. I know Christmas is all about being with your family."

"I'm sad, too," this was the first Christmas they were spending apart- she had encouraged them to, because her parents had not taken a solitary trip in twenty-five years and both she and Alfie felt like they deserved one, "but I am with family, Nya. Don't worry about that."

A smile flitted past her face for a moment, but soon died.
There was no reason for its disappearance- she just simply wasn't capable of smiling for longer than a few seconds nowadays.

Encouraged by that little smile, however fleeting, Bonnie asked, "Have you spoken to Maude today?"

She pursed her lips, but nodded, "Yes. I telephoned her, Ella picked up, I wished her Merry Christmas, then Gran came to the telephone, and I wished her, too, and she wished me back, after which I put down the receiver and cut the call."

"How long are you two going to be feuding?"

"Probably as long as she thinks I should leave the only home Edmund and I had in-" in this world, "had together."

That was more detail about the argument she had received from either of the two since it had happened. All she'd known was that Maude had brought up Edmund, and Sanya had essentially lost it. There had been a truce of sorts when Sanya's twins were born, but she didn't think that was still in place.
Bonnie bit her lip and leaned forward in the chair, before asking softly, "How're you holding up?"

Sanya contemplated pretending she was asleep, and she also contemplated a very long list of lies to use.
But she just decided to do neither.
Instead, she shrugged and said sardonically, "I'm a nineteen-year-old widow with two seven-month-old babies living in a foreign wo- country. How do you think?"

"I know you're not doing well, that's why I asked." Her voice was still very soft. "I know you're managing really well, but I'm worried about you, Sanya. For the babies, too- but mostly you."

"That makes one of us." She said again. She didn't sound sardonic anymore, just dull.
She tugged absently at the chain around her neck- she wore her wedding ring from her world on it. She usually kept it in her jewellery box, along with the star earrings- but sometimes she wore it. Most of those sometimes, she cried.
"With all the grief and rage and sorrow and exhaustion and panic about whether there are enough diapers, I haven't had any time to worry about myself."

"Sanya-"

"Bonnie, please. I don't want to talk about- about myself."

And the next second was the only time ever that Sanya was glad to hear her babies' untimely and early crying. They were up an hour early- practically unheard of, but perhaps they were hungry.
Or could they have had nightmares? Both their parents had had them- but maybe they were still too small to have vivid dreams and the like.
She hoped they never had them. Nightmares were awful.

"I ha-have to go." She mumbled, pushing herself up from the chair and to a standing position.
Heavens, but her back felt like it was breaking. She really needed a month-long massage.

Bonnie sighed to herself, watching her best friend slowly make her way out of the drawing room and to the staircase.
She should probably leave her alone, like she wanted- but she was already so alone. And she truly was deeply worried for her.

Talking things out didn't always help- but having someone who cared about being by your side did.

She decided to give it fifteen minutes before she would go up as well- she didn't fancy walking in on Sanya breast-feeding. The act was utterly natural, but the young mother had issues with intimacy and nearness, and Bonnie didn't want to accidentally stumble across any lines.

Thankfully, she had not read the day's newspaper, so she chose to use that to while away the time- but that didn't work, since she got bored, so she decided to start rearranging the ornaments on the Christmas tree again.

By the time she was done, it had been twenty-seven minutes.

Very quickly, she made her way up the stairs and to the nursery- where she was pleased to find that Sanya wasn't breast-feeding, that there were numerous toys thrown all over the floor, that a painting of hers hung next to the window, and that neither of the babies were screaming.
One was crying, though.

"Emmy has her nose bl-blocked." Sanya said very quietly as she glanced up to see her best friend enter.
Her face had an expression of great upset, and she gently rocked the quietly sobbing Emeraude in her arms- Syed was in his crib, turned to his side, watching his mother and sister with concerned eyes.
"I don't think it's a cold, this h-happens to babies sometimes- but it's difficult for her."

"Is there any way to fix it?"

She shook her head, "Not really. It just passes on its own. She can still feed, thankfully, but the snuffles make it very-"

"Sorry, snuffles?"

"That's what Edmund called it." Her voice could not possibly have gone any quieter- but, somehow, it did. "That's what it's called here, I think."

Bonnie would take her word for it. Though she had spent a lot of time with her brother as a baby- she didn't really remember specificities. She was pretty sure he had rolled off a sofa and onto the floor once, though. She had burst into tears in panic, and screamed her head off.
"Maybe you can take her in front of the fireplace? The warmth could- could unclog her nose?"

"I could, but Emmy doesn't like the fireplace. She cries whenever she sees the fire on."
Perhaps that was because Sanya had had hydrokinesis in another world. It could also explain why Sy always stuck his hand inside a glass of water whenever he saw one and was capable of the action.

Their baby sniffled again, rubbing her nose against her mother's shoulder.

Last time the twins had gotten sick, Sanya had alternated between caring for them and sobbing into Milkshake, her puppy plushie. She usually cried just holding him. She'd had to wash him soon enough, as his fake fur had been covered with tears and snot.

Sanya wanted to cry, again- she was such a terrible mother! She had not thought she could become even worse, but she had. She wasn't even capable of keeping her and Edmund's babies healthy- the bare minimum for any parent!

Oh, she knew babies got sick and parents simply had to handle it, but- but- she should be able to protect them from it. She should be able to fight and kill their pain.

She swallowed, and clutched Emmy tighter, "Cr-cry-crying would just make it worse."

"Sanya." Bonnie could hear the tears in her voice, no matter how much she tried to hide it. "Does this happen often?"

"Snuffles? Not really-"

"No, I meant- I meant problems. With the babies, with- everything."

"Well- yes." Sanya was so surprised, she practically felt the tears climb back into the tear-duct. "Obviously. Everything is always difficult. I haven't had a proper shower in six months, because I can't leave them alone. Heavens, I have to brush my teeth in this room."
She stopped for a second, jerking her head to push a strand of her hair away from her face. She couldn't use her hand to do it- that would mean having to set the baby down.
"I can't even hold both the babies together, and that sets them off six times a day."

Bonnie had said that she was managing well just minutes ago- she had been in awe of that then, but now it was more disbelief that awe. How could she possibly be surviving?
"How do you manage?"
Anyone else would have crumpled and given up, begging for help. When Sanya had held her and sobbed in the hospital chapel- she had thought that she would finally ask for help, for support.
But she hadn't. She had kept going on valiantly, somehow, despite the monumental loss and burden she knew and carried.
"How do you- how are you so utterly strong, Nya?"

She just had to be. That was all. She had to be strong. She didn't want to be, but she had to. She wasn't the hero of an epic, she wasn't a High Queen in this world- but she still had to be strong. Resilient. Enduring.

Queens don't cry.

And after so long of surviving everything- what would it even be like to give up for good?

As she continued to carefully bounce Emeraude- she still sniffled, but she had stopped crying, mercifully- she realised that Bonnie's question reminded her of something.

Susan had asked something similar three years ago, and she had immediately thought, 'Because I'm too much of a coward to kill myself.'

Her reason for not committing suicide wasn't cowardice anymore. It was the babies. She had to exist for them.
Even if she wanted to get away from them sometimes, so far away- even if she wanted to be put under a forever sleeping curse, so she could dream instead of despair- she couldn't leave them permanently. Abandoning their babies again? She would rather reach into her eye sockets and pull her eyes out, and then rip her scars open and stuff the eyes in there.

It wasn't just the babies. It was Edmund, still, even if he was dead. She loved him so infinitely much, she always would, and that- that gave her some 'strength', as Bonnie put it. And she had to tell Emmy and Sy stories of their darling departed father. If for nothing else, she had to keep living to make sure their babies knew him as much as possible.

Besides, after a thousand years, she didn't think she knew how to die. She knew how to survive, however painfully- but death was one thing she had no idea about.
"The power of true love." She said, not sure if she was joking. She probably was. It wasn't like Edmund's ghost was around to help her with chores. "And I've never been one to ask for help, so I just try to manage on my own. Somehow."
Some very terribly how.

"But you should. If there's any way to help- anything at all-"

"I can't. I can't. I have to do it on my own."

"But why-"

"I'm their mother! I'm supposed to- to think of them first, not me-" She shook her head again, stopping.

She wanted rest. She so badly wanted to rest. She wanted to sleep in a bed, to sleep for more than an hour. She wanted a warm shower where she didn't run out to check on the babies every thirty seconds. She wanted to read in the library, and not worry that the babies would die.

Again, she wished that the Evil Queen showed up and put her under a sleeping curse. She would be utmost and endlessly grateful to her.

"Bonnie, please. There's no point in talking about this. E-Edmund is dead, and I have to do this alone. Even if people help- even if I get a nanny- it's still me alone. I'm- I'm a widow, and- and- a lone mother."
She knew it was called a 'single mother'- but she wasn't single. She was married, and much of their life together had been happy. She would forever and always hold onto that. It didn't matter that Edmund was dead. She was his, and he was hers- even in death.

"You won't be alone in everything else, though. You have me." Bonnie said- she was in front of her now, and she reached her hand out to put that annoying lock of hair behind Sanya's ear. "I know I don't compare to Edmund-"

A lone tear fell down her cheek, and she bent her head, hoping Emmy would somehow shield her face from view.
"I'm in-incredibly grateful for you, but no one compares to him. Never, ever."

Bonnie nodded- she agreed. Even though Alfie and her parents and Sanya were endlessly and deeply dear to her- she would have felt the same way, if Susan had died, too.
But that was not an 'if' that she wanted to think about, so she quickly returned to what she was saying.
"But something is better than nothing, right?"

How many times had she told herself that philosophy? Not as many as 'Queens don't cry'- but probably more than the number of children she had, dead and alive.
"That's true." Sanya said, turning to the other side of the room so that Bonnie did not see the other tears that had begun to fall.
She would have preferred having nothing again. At least she could have killed herself without any guilt. She could have given up and left everything and everyone, uncaring about how it would destroy her.
And then she would have been reunited with her family, or she would have received the eternal punishment she deserved. She would be dead.
"Thanks, Bonnie." She said, still not turning to look at her. "Merry Christmas, by the way. I think I forgot to wish you."

"Merry Christmas, Sanya." Bonnie replied with a small smile- she wasn't too perturbed at talking to her best friend's back. It was better than her shoving her out of the room. She had done that, once, when she had walked in while she and Edmund had been in the process of undressing each other- but, in her defence, who had sex in the dining room!? "Do you want me to sit with you?"

No, she wanted Edmund. Even Lucy. Peter, too. Or her brother. Her parents. Jem, Sel, Sera.

Everyone she had lost. Any of them. She would give anything to have them back.

But Bonnie was her best friend, and she loved her- and she truly was so very grateful to have her here, even though she couldn't express that.

"Sure, Bon." She said, as Emmy's sniffles finally ended- her nose wasn't unblocked yet, but it was on the way, thank the Heavens. "Yes, sure. Thank you."

Something was better than nothing.

Usually.
--

"We're going out."

"No." Sanya said, moving her hand to shield her breast from the blonde who had invaded her feeding space. She didn't really mind Mina seeing her topless- she'd already seen her like that before, and vice-versa- but it was different when she was feeding the baby. She wished for those moments to be private. "Go away."

Mina almost threw a milk-bottle at her- the only reason she didn't, was because she was afraid the bottle might burst and get milk all over her very new and very expensive dress. To be fair, it wasn't as expensive as the ones she had bought yesterday- but still, she was very careful about what she wore.

She had let Sanya hide away from literally everything about the outside world for more than half a year. She didn't think the girl had even stepped out of the house since she had come back from the maternity hospital- last May!

"It is your birthday." She repeated, much slower, like Sanya was the baby, instead of the one holding the baby.

No one was here! Bonnie was at work- she was teaching, which Mina teased her about whenever they spoke- and she didn't think Sanya and Susan were on speaking terms, and the very annoying Clarke was away at university, and the pest that was her petal, Meghan, was in school.

It was only Mina- and she was trying to make the day special, something that was definitely not a one-woman job!

"Your twentieth! You only turn twenty once."

Oh, if only she knew.
"Not really." Sanya snorted to herself, shifting slightly- Sy had gotten detached and somehow did not notice or worry about the fact that he was sucking at bare skin, not at her nipple.
He had gotten her obliviousness, as he had gotten Edmund's ability to make the best of an unfortunate situation.
"Go away. I'll come down after they sleep."
Or she would bring them down with her. That was more likely.

"Oh, come on, I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. I even brought my childhood nanny along to look after Emeraude and Syed while we're out."

Out? She actually meant to take her outside, away from the cottage?
When her grandmother had asked her to leave the cottage, she had said that there was no force in the Heavens or Hell or on earth that could get her to leave the house she and Edmund had made a home. She would raise their children in this cottage, and it would be their home for as long as possible- unless, of course, England was blown up by an atomish bomb, too.
That was a little too dramatic to say in this situation, though. Maybe she could just say that it was too cold- which it was, since it was January- and leave it at that.
The widow was about to tell her to go away again, when a thought occurred to her.
"Did- did you not grow up in France?"

"Yes." She nodded, looking confused at the sudden question. "Why?"

"Did you ship your old nanny over from another country just to get me to go out?"

Mina might have blushed.
Might have. She was not admitting to anything.
"I don't see how that's any of your concern." She replied loftily, her voice a little high. "All you need to know is that Élodie is a fantastic caretaker. She managed me, twins would be part de gâteau to her."

Sanya looked blankly at her.

"Piece of cake." The other girl rolled her eyes.
She was on the verge of asking whether she ever actually listened when Edmund had spoken French, or if she just jumped him and had sex every time- but she held herself back at the last moment. Though she did intend to speak to her about him- this would just be an utterly insensitive way to bring up that topic of conversation.
"Élodie is waiting outside. Shall I let her in?"

"I'm not going anywhere." She said flatly. "Thank you for the birthday cake-"

Mina looked flabbergasted, "How did you-"

"I smelled it."
No, she was lying. She did have a great sense of smell, but not that great. She had been writing in her diary on the staircase, and she'd been sitting on one of the steps when Mina had let herself in- till date, she wasn't sure if she had made the right decision giving Bonnie and Mina extra keys to the house- and she had seen her friend walk to the kitchen with a pasta or plasti or something bag with some bakery's name on it.
"Black Forest?"

"Obviously, that's your favourite."

"Thank you. We can have that as lunch." She smiled tightly. "You can go down and watch the television-"

"No, I will not." Mina said, leaning very carefully against the railing of the double crib- hopefully that didn't cause the other baby, who was lying in it and sucking on a pacifier, to fly into a tantrum. "That is because what I want is to watch you get drunk."

Sanya looked at her with dead eyes, and spoke in a voice even more dead, "We don't get what we want, Wilhelmina."
She knew that better than anyone in any world.

She had nothing to say to that.
"Don't you want to enjoy yourself?" She asked softly, her eyes fixed on Sanya's solemn face. "Have fun- just for a few hours?"

"Everything related to joy left my life when I was told that my husband had been killed in a train accident." She knew that Mina was looking at her, and so she kept her head firmly bowed. "Unless the- the fun and enjoyment somehow involve me being with Ed again- I don't want it."

"Do you think you'll ever be able to move on?"

If Sanya had not been holding a baby, she would have attacked Mina then and there.
Her eyes were slits, and she gripped her arm of the rocking chair too tight, before saying, "What did you just say?"
It was amazing, how quickly the anger overpowered everything else and overwhelmed her.

Dios mío.
"I don't mean- I didn't-"

"It hasn't even been a year." There was barely suppressed rage in her voice. "Not even a fucking year since I lost the love of my life. And you want me to move on already!?"
She had made it a point to not swear around the twins- but she was too far gone.

"Sanya, that's not what I-"

"You're asking me to forget Edmund on my birthday, are you fucking with me?"

"That is not what I meant!" Mina had to shout this time, to make sure that her friend's naturally loud voice did not cut her off again. "Bloody hell, calm down, please."

No, she didn't want to calm down. She wanted to behead someone again.
She did not reply to her, since everything running through her mind in that moment was indicative of her not being calm- Heavens, she needed her anchor- and she turned to look at the lavender walls instead.

She and Edmund had both wanted neutral colours- but yellow made her think of The Yellow Wallpaper and green made Edmund think of the green mist, so they had had to think of something else.

Eventually, they had settled on the lightest shade of the colour that red and blue made- purple, and thus lavender.

They had also planned to etch the children's initials in a corner of the room after they were born- like how Edmund had scrawled S+E in his notebook in Narnia, and how Sanya had scratched E+S in her Finchley bedroom- but that had not happened, since he had died.

"I just meant- do you think it's possible for you to ever-" Mina had to phrase this very carefully, even more carefully than interactions with royalty, "to ever start to- to look forward?"

"No." It was an easy answer. She had already lived this before. She knew she wouldn't move on. "When it comes to the babies, absolutely. Emera and Sy will have as full a life as I can give them. But if you mean me even thinking of moving on from Edmund- no. Won't happen. Ever."

"But you're so young, Sanya. A- a romantic partner isn't everything, but with no one by your side- won't you be so lonely?"

Very quietly, Sanya quoted, "We live as we dream. Alone."

"Being alone is not the same as loneliness."

She knew that better than anyone, too.
"I'll never move on from Edmund." She said flatly- but not as flat as usual.
Whenever she spoke of her husband, there was a layer of the deepest emotion under her words, no matter how hard she tried to be emotionless.
"A thousand years would pass, and it'd still be him in my heart and on my mind."
Second time, for that. At least she knew she would not live a thousand years this time- a small mercy.
"And- and I know th-that it would be better for me to move on, someday, and perhaps find someone else."
Even the mere thought made her want to vomit, like how Sy had done in the laundry hamper the previous night.
Be with someone else- love someone else, after how much and how intensely she had loved Edmund? How she still loved him? How she always would?

She may be capable of it- and if she and Edmund had stayed broken up, she might even have done it, someday.

But now, in this situation- now, after everything- no. It would never happen.

She wouldn't let it.

"But I can't. I won't." Her nose burned, and she rubbed it with the hand that had previously been clutching the rocking chair's arm. She didn't want to cry. "It's not healthy or sane, but that's just how I love him. Dead or alive, it'll always be him."

Sanya and Edmund were supposed to be together forever. Their love was supposed to outlast eternity. They were supposed to grow together, age together, die together. They were the one for each other.

And all that was true even now, now that one half of them was dead. It'd be true even after the stars fell from the Heavens, even after the Moon was consumed by the ocean. It would always be true.

Mina bit her lip. She wished to argue back, like always- but what could anyone say against that? How would anyone even ever want to say anything against that?
"I can't imagine ever loving someone like that."

"Well, if Peter had lived, maybe your reluctant crush would have turned into a similar love." Sanya shrugged, and then watched her friend's fair cheeks go red.
She could have grinned. She could have added a teasing edge to her voice.
But it was like she had said. Anything related to joy had died and been buried with Edmund and Lucy and Peter.
"You know- my feet are always cold-"

"No, of course I don't know that, why ever should I know things about your feet?"

Sanya gave Mina a look, and went on, "Anyway, they get even more cold at night, even though I always sleep under a warm and cosy blanket. It used to make me toss and turn so much, half asleep and half awake, and just so uncomfortable. It disturbed me a lot."

Mina held her tongue this time, even though she couldn't see the point of this story. Why couldn't she just wear socks?

"I couldn't wear socks, because it felt too confining and made my feet sweat- so I just stayed with the cold feet." She looked at the carpet, and there was softness in her bright brown eyes. It was not aimed at the carpet- it was aimed at someone who was dead and someone whom she loved so much. "Ed-Ed would get up in the middle of the night- well, at dawn, usually, since that was my middle- and he would just go and get a sheet or a tiny blanket, and he would put it over my legs. It kept them warm enough and made me feel calm enough to not- for me to have a comfortable sleep the entire night."
She had always had difficulties with sleeping, for almost her entire existence- but that had helped. That had helped quite a bit. She couldn't remember exactly- had he started doing it after he had asked to renew their marriage vows, back in Narnia? Or- later? It was probably around that time.
She did remember, though, that her heart had felt like it had expanded exponentially when she had realised he was doing that for her.
"I never asked him to do it. But he still did. H-he used to call me his warmth, but he was my calm."
He was her anchor.

Syed had finished his feeding during his mother's last sentence, and he yawned, leaning back in the crook of his mother's elbow. His little mouth smiled for a second, before a sound- a cross between a yawn and a sigh- escaped him, and he closed his eyes.

Sanya watched him fall asleep, and as she did, her fury melted away, leaving only dull sorrow and regret.
She looked up at Mina, "I'm sorry I'm- I'm very bad at being a good birthday girl. I know you're being a great friend, but I just don't have it in me to celebrate."
She would never have that in her again. She would put on a happy face for the babies' birthdays, but that was all.

"It's-" definitely not fine- but again, she had to be careful with what she said, "not necessary to apologise. I was being pushy, as per usual."
She smiled as graciously as she could, before she pulled herself to her regular posture and stand. The bars of the crib were not comfortable to lean on.
"I'll wait downstairs, then. Am I to be sure that there are no chances of getting you to leave the house, then?"

Sanya nodded at once, "None at all."

She wasn't quite right, though- the promise behind the three words were broken two months and one day later.

Sanya stood in the graveyard where her husband and in-laws had been buried in, and she stared at Edmund's gravestone. Her attention span was non-existent, but her eyes had been on the slab of stone for at least six minutes.

She hadn't spoken in the six minutes. She had just stared.

She had looked at Peter's and Lucy's, too, and she had placed tulips on the Magnificent's grave, and amaryllises on the Valiant's.

The tulips were from the garden at Clematis Cottage, grown from the bulbs Peter had given her last year- they had fully bloomed just last week. Lucy's favourite flowers were amaryllis, and she had gone to buy them- yes, she had bought them on her own, with the talking and everything- from a flower-shop a couple of hours after dawn. As usual, she had not slept.

She had bought some lilies for her parents-in-law, too- they deserved to not be the only ones sans some mark of respect.

The graveyard was empty, thankfully. It was a Sunday, and she could hear people in the church- but there was no one around here.
If there had been a single other person, she didn't think she would have been able to face the graves of three people she loved most.
She couldn't let herself be vulnerable when there were others around.

"Hello." She finally said, feeling discomfort prickle through the blue cardigan she wore and into her skin. “I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long to come here.”
She knew there was no point in apologising or talking- he couldn't hear her. But by that logic, there was no point in addressing all her diary entries as 'Dear Edmund'- it wasn't like he could ever read those.
At least talking to his grave made more sense that that.
What lay under the layers of soil was all she had left of him. A rotting, decaying corpse was all that existed of Edmund Pevensie in this world.
She wished her imagination wasn't so potent and quick- it couldn't help but conjure up an image of what probably slept in that grave right this instant.
"Su-Susan comes every week, I know. Sometimes more." She still wasn't talking to her, but Bonnie kept her updated. "But I haven't- haven't. I'm sorry, husband. I just- I couldn't."

She closed her eyes for a long moment, finally rid of seeing the words on the gravestone for that amount of time.

Edmund Arthur Pevensie
Loving Brother and Son
Forever Beloved and Forever Missed
5th September, 1927 - 21st March, 1947

He was more than a brother and a son. So much more. A husband, a father, a warrior, a King. And he was more than just his associations. Even if he had been none of that- he would still have been one of the best men who had ever lived.

"It's been a year." Sanya said, her voice trembling. "It's been a year since you died."
Since you left me- us.
"Somehow, it feels both like a thousand years as well as a day. Last time, it was- last time, it felt like each day was a century. But I suppose grief comes in different ways, even if it's for the same people."
She swallowed and bit her lip, before taking a deep breath. She would probably be weeping by the time she forced herself to leave his grave.

"Our babies are doing well." She said, sounding rather casual- almost as though this was a normal telephone call, instead of a conversation with a dead person. "I- I would have brought them, but they fell asleep, so I left them with Gran and Ella. It's- it's the longest I've spent without them, and it's honestly giving me a lot of anxiety."
It was probably best she hadn't brought them. A graveyard was no place for little babies- not even a graveyard where their father was buried.
"They can't talk yet, but Emmy makes sounds for different things. And Sy has started clapping when he's happy or hungry. That helps a lot, since I cannot speak baby."

This was more than she had talked in a year. And it was to a slab of stone.

"I try to update the baby book as much as I can, darling, though I'm not very adept with the- the photography- tool."
Sanya breathed deeply again, her fingers anxiously fiddling with her necklaces- she wore both the crescent moon necklace, and the chain with her wedding ring on it.

Another reason she was glad there were no people around- she would likely murder them if they asked her about the significance. She carried her star earrings most places, too, though she rarely wore those anymore.

"You probably know all that, though, since everyone here says those in Heaven are supposed to be able to see the living. You best be keeping tabs on us, Edmund Pevensie, or I'll kill you."
She chuckled then, a wet, weak sound that prompted the first tear to fall from her eye. She had known it. She would cry.

Queens don't cry- except when they're alone; when they're alone, they cry all the time.

"Are our children there? And my parents, and my brother? My family?"
Is everyone I have lost and abandoned looking down at me from the skies?

It didn't seem likely- but who knew. Odds were odd, they could go anyway, no matter the situation.

She hoped they were together. It gave her comfort, just a tiny bit of it, to know that the people she loved, people who deserved the absolute best of any world, were together in the Heavens.

But it was equally likely that they weren't together, and that there was no afterlife- and it was just nothingness and oblivion after death.

Probably similar to a sleeping curse, except far more permanent and without a cure.

"I miss them all so much." And her heart hurt, expanding in her chest in a way that felt like it would explode. "I miss you, my love."
Her voice broke at the 'you', and there came more tears. There would always be tears, and her heart would always break.

She wished she could believe wholeheartedly in the Heavens, in the afterlife, in Aslan's Country- in anything that showed that there was a chance that she could see Edmund again. Anything that gave her the hope that she would someday reunite with those that she loved.
But it wasn't easy. Hope and faith- they didn't come easily to her. Grief and rage did. They came too often, too.

"I want to be angry with you. Heavens, I was angry with you. Why did you have to leave me- again?" Her voice was shaking again, and she could not be sure if that was because of the tears or because of the rage or both. "I felt like screaming at you, like throwing things at you, like- like-"
Like running a sword through your heart like you ran one through mine so many times.
"But every time I had those wants, I remembered that I couldn't do any of that, because you weren't there. You're dead, and that- that is most important, because it means the love of my life isn't with me anymore. And then I begin to grieve again, and I just miss you and I miss you so much and I miss you so terribly I don't think I can possibly feel anything else ever again."

Even if part of her was still angry with him- it didn't really matter. The love and grief overtook that by leaps and bounds- there was no doubt in her mind which emotion filled her heart the most when it came to her Edmund.

"Thank you for being my husband." Her voice was soft, and she wanted him back in her arms so badly. "It means more to me than I could ever have imagined. And- and thank you for our love. I love you so much. I love you."

She had to leave. Not because she wanted to, but because she didn't want to leave the babies for too long. She loved having a break from them- though not the fact that the break was in a graveyard- but she worried incessantly about them.

So she wiped her tears, and smiled sadly at her brother's grave, and her sister's, and then finally at her husband's grave.
She would try to visit more often. She doubted she would be able to, since travelling with twin babies wasn't easy- but she would try.

"I'll be at our home, Edmund." Sanya whispered, reaching forward to palm her hand against the flat, cold stone. She wanted to kiss it, but she didn't, because it would just remind her that she could never kiss the love of her life again. "If you come back to me someday. I'll forever be waiting."

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-✧･: °*✧*°:･✧-
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(This was actually intended for a different scene. Then I lied to someone that this was for this chapter's dream sequence- and then, the next time I looked at these manips, I was like "Well, fuck. These ARE perfect for this chapter's dream sequence." 💀💀💀
Fuck, bruh, it's only been two-three chapters, and I already miss Edmanya so, so much)
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(EDMUND'S SONG 😭😭😭😭😭 Sanya sang it to their babies- they would never have heard it otherwise 🥺🥺)
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(Sanya wanting to rot in a grave with Edmund, together and intertwined and dead and forever, feels very Hozier-song-ish.)

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(Sanya has even more reasons to hate waking up now.)
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(Edmund, please haunt her. It’s really the least you can do, provide her companionship as a ghost.)

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(Not in order, though, the six stages. And Sanya's probably going to stay firmly in the DEPRESSION stage for the rest of her life, not the HOPE stage 🤷‍♀️)

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(So much for growing old together, huh. They barely grew past their adolescence this time.
To quote an extremely over-quoted book, but one that I do actually really like- 'The world is not a wish granting factory.' Okay? Okay.)

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Today is the 21st of March. In another universe, somewhere in the multiverse, today marks 76 years to the day that Sanya- and Susan- lost Edmund- and Lucy, and Peter. For Sanya's sake, I hope she is long dead. She doesn't deserve to live another life full of pain- I know she has the babies, and she loves them, but she can't take it anymore. She wants respite for good.

Sanya's just hanging around to die now. She can't even kill herself, poor girl.

Three heart-to-hearts for Sanya this chapter. Not sure if the conversation with Susan can be called a heart-to-heart, and the one with Mina was more of a freakout- so...one argument, one heart-to-heart (of course with Bonnie, her bestie), and one freak out.
At least Sanya is emotionally capable to talk to people?

Susan has not remembered yet. She adores and mourns and loves her family so much- she's putting her life together, and is becoming responsible- but she still doesn't remember her home.
At least she has Bonnie and is on the way to a marginally happy ending, Narnia or no Narnia.

Everything is so very sad. So fucking sad.

Sanya will always be waiting. She knows Edmund won't come back, but there is nothing else she can do but wait. No deals or favours or backward aging will help them reunite this time.
All she can do is wait. Wait to die, and hopefully- somehow, by some tiny sliver of a chance- be reunited with him then.

Sadly, hope isn't easy for her, and luck is rare for her. She really will forever be waiting- there's no chance for anything miraculous. This is a land without magic, after all, and Psyche cannot metamorphose into Orpheus, no matter how much she wants to.

Also, ironic that Sanya is so terribly impatient, but she is always the one waiting. She's the girl who waited.
And it's always for Edmund, the wait- each and every time.

Next chapter is letters :") Well, diary entries. A LOT of them. It is Very Long. VERY. 20K words 💀 enjoy. Please do read it thoroughly!

Two 😭 more 😭 chapters 😭 left 😭

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