[eight: the twins]

The winter wind howled through the desolate marsh and bit at his frozen skin. The bleak grey cloud overhead reflected perfectly her grey mood inside. These short days, these long nights, the dampness that crept into her weary bones and made them ache for summer again. Each footfall broke the frosted puddles that lay embedded in the hardened earth, each one was made in the autumn, when the hooves of the horses that were ridden over the path had each sunk several inches into the then soft soil. The world seemed to lie barren and lifeless before her as if God himself had put it to sleep. 

Genevieve hadn't left her room in months, the mere thought of having to face Edmund and look into his broken eyes was enough to keep her locked in her room for eternity. She had never felt so guilty, so heart broken and so alone all at the same time. She knew she had hurt him, the last time she looked into his eyes she physically saw his heart break in them and she didn't think she could become more broken until that moment.

Genevieve fiddled with her mothers necklace around her neck as she closed her eyes, letting a tear fall. She wished she had her mother there with her, to tell her that it was all okay and that she could get through the pain but she didn't have that. Whilst she knew Edmund had his siblings to help him through the pain, Genevieve had nobody to turn to. She had turned up there with no family of her own to help her and whilst she confided in all four Pevensie children, this was one time when she couldn't confide in them.

Genevieve sighed again as an idea suddenly popped into her head and a smile graced her lips for the first time in months. Genevieve quickly got dressed before she opened her doors and walked onto the balcony, being careful before she climbed down the ice coated falls before landing on the soft snow with a thump.

The wintry trees she saw as she walked stood as ballet dancers poised to show the world their grace, strength showing in how they remain so still in the seasonal gusts. Now that the leaves have fallen, they are so proud, as if their silvery-brown skin was their glory all along. Genevieve lifts her head into the wind, eyes open for this softly lit day. Cold is good if you are warm inside, just the same as we love ice in the summer time.

The naked winter trees line the land and he breath rises in visible puffs to join the darkened clouded night sky. There is a freezing chill in the air that brings crispness to the leaves, bejewelled with frost, that crunch underfoot. Rosy cheeked, she'd stamp to keep warm, pulling her red woollen hat over her reddened ears and tightening her scarf over her blue-tinged lips. Her teeth chatter and the cold seeps into her gloves numbing her fingers until they cease to bend properly, stiffened and frigid.

Genevieve entered the stables and found Elizabeth very awake and standing in a corner, eating some access hay that someone had obviously laid out in Genevieve's absence. Genevieve swiftly walked over to Elizabeth and stroked the fur on her back comfortingly as she ate. Elizabeth looked up as she finished and she bowed her head to the young girl in front of her who was noticeably paler than usual - and a lot skinnier too.

"Are you alright?" Elizabeth asked the girl who gave her a solemn nod before strapping the saddle onto Elizabeth's back after ensuring she had a warm cover coat over her in the snow as she hoisted herself up, pulling up the hood of a scarlet cloak she found in her wardrobe before she rode off in a flurry.

The wind howled, piling up snow in drifts, blinding the night with ice-white dust. She walked bend over against the cold, protecting her eyes with her arms. Trees, posts, cowsheds loomed into her vision, then vanished, swallowed in white. Silvery flakes drifted down, glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon. The blackbird swooped down to it's nest. The sun was rising and the thick blanket of snow was now visible. The walnut brown trees swayed in the cold winter wind. Icicles on the trees dropped with a smash. Like glass cracking and shattering. The weather was frosty and the snow was glittering. Like white sequins laying all over the floor. A chilled squirrel hopped from tree to tree, carefully trotting on branches. The ghostly wind broke the peaceful sound of silence. The snow was damp, every step felt like walking in mud. It was dawn. The horizon was candy red. The sun shone a dandelion yellow along with strokes of carrot orange. The snow now reflected the sky. Large flakes fells as if angels in heaven were having a pillow fight. Though the snow was beautiful it was cold and sharp. Crisp, white, pristine, shining covering that transformed the landscape making it a magical land full of wonder and undiscovered mysteries.

The snow hugged the dam like a day old baby, new and clingy. It was like the world had been put to bed, hushed under nature's frigid eider-down. How odd it was to look on that view, so familiar and yet so different. Genevieve dismantled herself from Elizabeth before urging the voice to go back to the castle, telling her not to say a word about where she is

Genevieve holds out her hand with a small smile as she lets the snow fall into her fingers which are cold and rigid, but she forgets that for now It feels like shaved ice, only thinner. Huge blankets of icing, caking every surface it touches in magnificent cases of frozen water. It seems shapeless, only when you catch one perfect snowflake, you see that it does actually have a shape.  Genevieve inhaled before she walked up to the small dam, watching as the smoke above the chimney dance is wicked spells as it evaporated into the atmosphere. Genevieve raised her arm to the door, pausing for a moment as she let the cool winter hair brush over her face as another snowflake fell upon her nose making her chuckle a little, before she knocked on the door. There was shuffling heard on the other side of the door, along with a set of giggles and a shout before the door opened and a frantic looking Beaver opened the door.

"Blimey Genevieve!" Mr. Beaver started as he opened the door and set eyes on the girl. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd come for a visit," She admitted before she met Beaver's eyes with a small smile. "I don't know who else to turn to!"

"Well come on in, the missus has just put on a pot of tea." Mr. Beaver said as he opened the door, allowing Genevieve to enter as she pulled the hood of her cloak down and took the hat from off her head.

Genevieve looked around the small dam with a smile, a decade of memories flooding through her mind as quick as a rivers current. Genevieve looked around as she entered the dining room, immediately met with the sound of soft laughter and someone scurrying around the kitchen. Mrs. Beaver was frantically trying to make tea but there were various toys and equipment all over the kitchen floor making it harder for her to move and she looked very frustrated.

"Need any help?" Genevieve asked and Mrs. Beaver visibly jumped as she turned around and smiled brightly as she clutched her chest, shocked too see the young girl in their home.

"Genevieve dear what are you doing here?" Mrs. Beaver asked as she embraced the young girl, who had to bow down to hug her properly. "Aslan's mane you've got  so tall."

"Well I suppose that's what ten years does to you." Genevieve chuckled as she released herself from the hug and took a seat at the table where Mrs. Beaver placed a steaming cup of tea in front of her. "How are the twins?"

"They're wonderful Genevieve, except when they're fighting with each other. That can be a hassle."

"Mummy?" A soft, sweet voice asked and Genevieve turned her head to the doorway as a smile lit up on her face.

The kid moved like her knees were just hinges, wobbling to and fro before falling on her padded bottom. Then she clapped like it was all part of the plan and rolled to her stomach to get up again. She was looking  cute as hell and a lot taller than last time Genevieve had seen her. She was dressed in a primrose pinafore dress and those soft first shoes kids wear, the ones they can still feel the ground though. Then from behind an over-sized rhododendron came her father, Mr. Beaver with a smile to light up the whole town. The girl giggled, waving her arms for the pick-up she knew was coming, but before she was hoisted high she was on her bottom again. Genevieve giggled at the small girls behavior as she waved hello to her, watching as the small girl beaver's eyes light up at the sight of her.

"Auntie Genevieve." She screamed as she wobbled to Genevieve, who hoisted her up and placed her on her lap as the young beaver cuddled into her side.

"Isabelle." Genevieve smiled as she hugged the smaller beaver on her lap. "How are you sweetheart?"

"A lot happier now you're here." She murmured into Genevieve's neck and Genevieve wanted to awe at the sight of the young beaver in her arms.

"Where's your brother?" Genevieve asked Isabelle who only groaned as she heard the pitter patter of little feet in the doorway and Genevieve turned her had to see the other young beaver with a smile on his face.

Alex hopped from foot to foot, a clear head taller than his sister. In his hands he held her cookie, crumbs still decorating his lips from his own. His face was once of pure glee, his eyes alight with the kind of pleasure born of mischief. "Finders keepers, losers weepers!" he sang out and Isabelle's smile faltered as her lip quivered.

"That's not fair!" She whined as she gave Genevieve some sincerely sad eyes and Genevieve broke at them as she dug into her bag and pulled out a bag of Christmas Cookies she had stolen from the kitchens.

"What do you say Isabelle?" Mr. Beaver asks his little beaver, with a soft but stern look on his face.

"Thank you auntie Genevieve." She murmured before she hopped of Genevieve's lap, a cookie in her hand before she wobbled after her brother into their bedroom.

"So what seems to be the problem dear?" Mrs. Beaver asked as she and Mr. Beaver took a seat at the table around the girl they viewed as their own daughter.

"Edmund and I are no longer on speaking terms." Genevieve admitted to the two, who looked at her with shocked expressions on their face - Mrs. Beaver being so shocked that she almost dropped her cup of tea on the floor.

"What happened?" Mrs. Beaver pressed and Genevieve sighed as she laid her arms on the table and laid her head there, thinking of a simple way to explain things.

"Edmund and I... we were kind of an item i suppose." Genevieve said as both Beavers eyes widened as smiles illuminated their faces.

"Cor, took you two long enough." Mr. Beaver said as he took a sip of his tea before meeting Genevieve's eyes that were brimmed with tears and he lowered his cup in concern. "What happened?"

"Susan signed a deal with the King of Telmar. I'm betrothed to a Telmarine Knight called Orion." Genevieve whispered as she suddenly burst into tears in front of them and the two Beavers hearts mourned for the girl in front of them who they had never seen so broken before.

"So you broke things off with him?" Mrs. Beaver asked and Genevieve nodded as she took a hankie from her bag and wiped her eyes of salty tears, hoping and praying that the tears stopped from her eyes.

"Yes and it hurts. When he was with me the pain stopped, or at least it once did. When I had hope that one day he'd come to me and stay, he was my medicine. These days the pain ebbs at the first sight of him, then multiplies and I want to flee. Then he goes and I miss him with a pain that sits in my guts like so much fire burning slow. Those flames belong in my heart, in my soul, yet no more. And in this hurricane of my soul, amid the endless winds that scream, I make no move. My emotions are stupid,  they break me and I can't bear myself to look in his broken eyes anymore. It just hurts me too much."

"Darling they're just emotions." Mrs. Beaver states calmly as she places her paw over Genevieve's hand "The very thing that makes you human. You can have happiness, pride, excitement, relief. Every emotion considered good. But what would you be if you didn't feel hurt, or pain, or despair? You can't have the good without the bad. There is no light without darkness. The trick is to balance them, so the bad doesn't seem so terrible, and you can truly appreciate the good."

"What do you mean?" Genevieve asked as she lifted her eyes to look at the equivalent of her mother in the Narnian look with a confused look in her eye.

"If you love him, you'll do all you can to let him know that until you two can no longer be together. You need to treasure the moments until its physically impossible for you both to see each other again. If you can't get out of it, spend every moment with him you can and make sure you do all you want to do because at the end of the day you need to cherish the moments forever."  Mrs. Beaver deadpanned and Genevieve's eyes widened as she looked at the two Beavers with wide eyes.

"You think I love him?"

"Well you do, don't you?" Mr. Beaver asked her and Genevieve's cheeks flushed scarlet as she thought the matter over - her eyes suddenly becoming wide in realisation.

"I do." She whispered as a smile graced her features. "I'm in love with Edmund Pevensie."