Daughter of Eve: Tale of a Forgotten Queen

Chapter XV - Forever


WOW. I'm mean. I sincerely apologize for making you all wait this long. There is no excuse. But I am writing a book, if that appeases anyone (I don't think it will is guilty). It's a fantasy, duh, with my own spin. No, no shameless romance (or not. I haven't decided exactly how much I should put in), sorry guys.

And this is short. But it felt so RIGHT, writing this. Everything seemed so perfect and final. And I hope you enjoy it. I have.

SQUEE I can finally put up that little 'complete' sign. Fulfillment. Try it.


It was a Tuesday morning and there was no bread in the Pevensie household. Lucy had complained half-heartedly that there was no toast for her breakfast while Edmund fretted there would be naught to make his mid-afternoon sandwich with. Peter ignored them both, quite content to read his newspaper while Natasha dozed, her head resting in his lap.

She yawned widely, showing even white teeth. "You know," she said, smiling sweetly up at Peter, "I wouldn't mind some toast."

He only turned the page of his paper and sniffed. "Toast is overrated."

"Come now, Peter, wouldn't it be nice to get out of the house before it rains again?" she pleaded, sitting up so that her face was only inches from Peter's. "It has been such a rainy summer."

Peter kept his gaze firmly on the newspaper, though he found himself rereading the same sentence over and over. He made a grumbling noise that reverberated in his wide chest and squinted, pretending to read the fine print of an advertisement. Natasha followed his gaze and smirked.

"In the market for hosiery, are you?" she snickered, snatching the newspaper away.

He sighed aloud, trying to look put out, but found he couldn't manage it and laughed with her. "So, toast, then?"

She nodded. "Toast."

"What my queen commands," he jumped off the couch, pulling Natasha to her feet, "My queen receives." She smiled at his words and threw her arms about his shoulders, nuzzling her face into the curve of his neck.

"You have not forgotten your manners, High King," she murmured.

He grinned suggestively and ran his hands along her neck. "That's not all I haven't forgotten," he whispered, planting a kiss on her skin. She shuddered, his touch still a wonder to her after so many years.

"You've become devilish in my absence," she giggled, drawing back so that she could look into his twinkling eyes.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," he breathed, pulling her close again.

She sighed, rolling her eyes to herself. "You just have an answer for everything, don't you?" He smiled against her and let his lips rest against her collarbone. "Alright, there will be time for that later," she pushed him away again, smiling all the while. "But now, toast."

Peter heaved a sigh, reluctantly parting from her embrace. "Toast."

"Toast," she said again, failing to keep a crooked smile from her features. "Where can we find said toast?"

"A toaster," Peter said, straining to keep a straight face. He received a light punch on the arm for his efforts and Natasha glared at him. "The corner shop, but Mrs. Coyle is away for the week. I'm afraid we'll have to go into the city."

"By train?" Natasha offered.

Peter nodded. "The railway station is just around the corner."

"Then off we go, on our quest for toast!" Natasha laughed, grabbing him by his hand. She pulled him out of the living room and into the front hall where Lucy and Edmund were bickering. Apparently, Edmund had eaten the last egg and now Lucy had nothing for breakfast. They asked where the couple were going and decided to come along as well, for it was a very nice day, especially in such a rainy summer. The sun shone on the street and there was not a cloud as they left the house, Natasha and Peter leading the way. They laughed and talked cheerfully, skirting the puddles that Lucy happily kicked up. And so the two kings and two queens picked their way down the English street, unaware of the great step before them.

A war had started it all, so many years ago, and now, it seemed, toast would finish it.


The train screeched horribly, waking Natasha from her light nap. Her fingernails dug into Peter's arm and his hand searched wildly for her own. Edmund threw an arm over Lucy and then all went white and silent.
Peter felt numb. His whole body tingled with sensation and it was a moment before he realized he was lying on the flat of his back, staring up at a clear blue sky. Grass, soft, lush and green ticked his hands and he sat up, eyes straining against the blinding light of an impossibly large sun. There was a moment where he remembered nothing, not his name nor his love, and simple was. But his mind returned to him with ease and he stood up, almost too quickly and found himself yelling.

"Natasha!"

He could not lose her again. It would be more than his heart could bear.

"Natasha!"

There was no answer and panic set into his bones.

"Natasha!"

"I'm here!"

Her voice was faint at first and as his eyes adjusted, Peter could see her standing some yards away in the shade of a tree. He ran towards her, almost tripping over his own feet. No, not his feet. Boots, tight and as high as his knee, strange yet so familiar, had stopped him. "What is this?" he muttered, staring down at his legs. His eyes rose, taking in his appearance.

It was clothing well-known to him, woven of fine Narnian fabrics, stamped with the Great Lion. Natasha wore her own royal garments, the last Narnian dress he had seen her in. A vision of greens; jade, hunter and sage, all spilling around her like a mossy sea.

"What is this?" he said again.

She looked down at her hands. There was a scar there, between her thumb and forefinger. It had come from a dagger. It had not existed in the other world.

"We're back," she replied, looking up with shining eyes. "Narnia."

"Narnia."

She reached for his hand, feeling the old hardness of his able fingers. "Our time has come again," she breathed. There was so much emotion, so raw and unchecked, spilling from her that she found she could not look up for long.

Peter sensed her unease and brushed his other hand against her jaw, raising her head so that their eyes met. "How long will it last?" he whispered.

There was a knowing smile in her eyes.

"Forever, my love. Forever."


Fin.

My thanks to everyone. This could not have been possible without you.