Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the world of Narnia; everything belongs to C. S. Lewis.
A/N: You know, I was a bit surprised to find myself posting this so quickly; I mean, I didn't expect Peter's chapter to get five reviews in three days! But, as promised, here is the missing scene, titled "Lissy". Just a head's up, this has a lot to do with a character I created because of an idea I had, and it involves Edmund and his relationship with said character. The reason I decided not to include this was because when I began editing, I didn't feel like it was crucial to the plot, but I liked it anyway.
So, you know how in Prince Caspian, Susan kisses Caspian, right? And Lucy says, "I'm sure when I'm older I'll understand," and then Edmund's like, "When I'm older, I don't think I want to understand." Well, that's kind of inconsistent, don't you think? I mean, I laughed at that part when I first saw it, but once I got into Narnia fanfiction, I realized that that statement doesn't really make sense because they have been older. They grew up in Narnia, were adults there, and that time has carried on into their lives back in England. Well, I got curious while writing "An Older Brother's Anguish": What if Edmund, in fact, had understood romance once upon a time? And so this little bit of background was created for my version of Edmund, in which we see just how grown up he had been during the Golden Age.
If OCs aren't your thing, don't worry about reading this, but it honestly doesn't have any actual encountering with the character I made up; she is spoken of only in past tense, both in Peter's memories and during a conversation between him and Edmund. You'll find some of the paragraphs and sentences in here were used in Chapter Two, so it might be a little confusing, and I'll let you know where this scene would begin; the italicized words are from Peter's chapter, and would have come right before this little extra. It has no actual place of ending, so I'll let you choose where you think is best. Feel free to review if you liked this, thanks to everyone who already has reviewed, and enjoy!
Peter smiled back, although it felt more like a grimace; because, even after realizing it was what Aslan had had in mind, it didn't make it any easier. Had he not realized how hard it would be on them? Didn't he know how much Peter would long to have the solid weight of a blade in his hand, to walk along the beaches of Cair Paravel? He had craved the soft talks with Susan, the adventures he had partaken in with Lucy, sword practice with Edmund, working until he was so exhausted and happy that he couldn't move from where he would fall on the ground. Lazing around on warm summer afternoons, partaking in a snowball fight, swimming through crystal waters. He would have done almost anything to go back to the way life had been.
And, he knew, so had Edmund.
Quietly, fearful of the affect this question might have on Edmund, Peter asked, "What about her?"
Edmund looked at him oddly. "Her?" For a moment, Peter thought his brother believed him to be referring to the Witch. But then Edmund's eyes hardened and softened at the same time, expression almost like he was in pain, unable to catch breath. "Oh," he said, turning his eyes downward, and Peter fought the urge to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder; either that or strangle himself for ever thinking the question was important enough to bring up. But it was important, and it had been a silent understanding this last year that if Edmund would not bring it up, neither would he. "You mean Lissy."
Lissy. Felicity had been her real name, but Edmund had immediately taken to calling her by a nickname, and she had soon become fond of it. A unique creature, not completely human and not full blooded dryad, Lissy had been fragile and willowy, only just having come up to Edmund's shoulder when he was twenty-five, and, while small, she had been stronger than she'd looked, skilled in the magic that flowed through the earth and capable with a bow and arrow. Her features petite and delicate, her outer appearance had possessed almost as much beauty as her soul; essence shining through her eyes, Lissy had had an easy way of talking, even with Peter, and, although shy at first, made friends quickly. Almost as gentle as Susan, sometimes as carefree as Lucy, often as calm and brilliantly glowing as Peter, and just as stubborn as Edmund when she wanted to be, all four Pevensies had loved her, Peter's adoration for her like that of a big brother.
But everyone knew it was Edmund who had fallen for her.
Peter had noticed right away that his brother had watched her with complete fascination, eyes pleasantly amazed, and this had only intensified the more he had gotten to know her. They had become fast companions, traveling the forests and beaches of Narnia, whether hunting or just going out for a day of doing absolutely nothing (after Edmund had gotten permission from Peter, of course). They were always seen smiling and laughing together, Edmund becoming brighter and less sarcastic and Lissy growing more confident in herself after they had met.
One night, right before Peter was to turn twenty-eight, he had asked Edmund just what exactly she meant to him.
Instead of an outright answer, Edmund had given him a smile, one that was soft and beaming and just the slightest bit shy, eyes going as bright as the Narnian stars, the lightest of blushes gracing his face.
That was the only time Peter ever asked his brother this, because Edmund's grin was all the answer he had needed; that one look had said everything.
Edmund had had a few more months with her, doing nothing and everything and steadily growing more attached to her, their bond interweaving into something Peter had yet come to understand, something beautiful and wholesome that had made him smile and feel content, all because Edmund was elated, Lissy the reason his eyes didn't darken like they had once.
But all good things must come to an end. The Pevensies had returned to Earth that fateful day, leaving Felicity in Narnia aged at twenty-three and Edmund in England, once again a boy of ten.
Fate is cruel. Peter knew this, but he also knew Edmund understood this concept just as well, if not better. The day they returned to England, when both Susan and Lucy were in their room and Peter had walked back to the one he shared with his brother, he had opened the door to find Edmund quietly crying into his pillow, hands twisted in the bed sheets, small, snuffling sobs catching in his chest. And Peter had felt himself break even more than he had thought possible at the sight of his baby brother crying for his home and the lost love fate had stolen from him. Sighing shakily, Peter had walked to Edmund's bed and sat on the edge, hesitantly resting a hand on his brother's quaking back, then began to rub soothing circles along the tense muscles. When Edmund had looked up him, eyes veined and face smeared with tears, Peter had instinctively lifted him into a sitting position just in time for a shattered wail to break past Edmund's cracked lips, and his little brother had been sobbing into his chest, hands grasping at his shirt as he had cried out something that sounded suspiciously like the name of a beautiful half dryad a wardrobe away.
That was the only time in the past year Edmund had showed any true loss, any actual pain, toward Peter. After crying himself out in Peter's arms until he fell asleep, in the morning, he had acted as if nothing had occurred, as did Peter. That was the only time Peter showed any affection or comfort toward his brother.
And life moved on. Susan had quickly readapted to English life, though still showing signs of missing Narnia. Lucy had cried the most, more than Peter himself had, until she gradually began to recover and return to her happier self. Edmund had become quieter, lost in thought more often, his smiles a little less frequent. And Peter's own healing had never really come. He had cried every night for the first week, praying he'd awake from this dream and find himself back in Narnia. When he'd finally accepted the fact that they wouldn't be back, at least for a long while, he had grown more sullen, bitter, his anger at Aslan and himself and the world growing, until it tried to consume him.
Aslan was brilliant; he had known just when to bring them back, all for different reasons, and Peter knew that if he hadn't returned to Narnia when he did, he probably would have fallen into a pit that was too deep to pull himself out of.
But what about Edmund? He had hardly worried about his brother's pains save for the first month or two, and then he had been too absorbed in his own wants that he hadn't seen what he was doing to everyone around him, especially Edmund.
Peter, pulled back from remembering Lissy and the night they'd returned and the last year, watched Edmund nervously. His brother's face looked tired, filled with pain and loss, but also something softer; maybe acceptance. Edmund had a strange, half smile on his face, one that didn't quite reach his eyes but wasn't entirely false. He closed his eyes and, without reopening them, said, "I miss her."
Peter's stomach clenched at the longing in Edmund's voice, the raw admission making it painfully obvious he was eleven, but at the same time, much, much older. It wasn't a child's wanting he saw in his brother's face; it was a man's.
Edmund drew his knees up closer to himself and crossed his legs at the ankles. "It's strange, knowing she's gone," he said, still not looking at Peter. "Like I can't quite grasp that she is. Like there couldn't be a Narnia without her."
Peter understood what his brother meant, knowing Edmund associated Narnia and Lissy almost as one; without one, the other could not exist. But, this time, that wasn't the case, and Peter knew Edmund secretly understood this.
Edmund looked up at him, eyes heavy. "Do you think…that it's possible she is still here? In some way?"
Peter sighed, pulling at his hair again. "I don't know," he murmured, wishing with all that he was that he could give Edmund the answer he wanted to hear; all he had was the one that he believed. "She was half dryad, so it's possible that she was reborn as some part of the earth."
Edmund's body shook slightly. "But did she have a soul?"
Peter blinked, eyes wide as he leaned closer to Edmund to get a better look at him. His brother didn't exactly look scared, just sadly anxious, as he stared back at Peter, eyes boring into his own.
Did Lissy have a soul?
"Yes," Peter stated firmly, knowing that this was a truth, one he had accepted from the moment he had met her. "She might have been part dryad, but she was even more human. You could see it, in her eyes. Her soul. She was too good not to have one."
Edmund looked at him, lips parted and eyes narrowed in a way that wasn't apprehensive or critical, but very fragile and encouraging, telling Peter that his words had an impact on him and that he was also able to believe in them. He nodded once, then more resolutely. "I know. Aslan…Aslan wouldn't create something that didn't have a spirit."
Peter briefly smiled at what Edmund said, but sorrow came crawling back, and he knew there was one more question he had to ask Edmund. He swallowed thickly. "Did you love her?"
Edmund looked at him, shock clear on his face, as was the coloring of his cheeks. He blinked, and then the surprise gave way to comprehension, Peter watching as his brother recognized the similarity between this question and another asked long ago. "You mean in love, don't you?" he asked, more of statement than an inquiry.
Peter said nothing, waiting, not sure if he should be nervous or sad or afraid of what was to come.
Once again, Edmund looked away, a smile crossing his face that was somewhat dreamy yet dejected, unattainable longing for something that could never again be his, and Peter's breath caught at this side of his brother; he had never, under any circumstances, seen an emotion like this cross Edmund's face. Edmund looked back at him, that same little smile present. "I'm not sure," he admitted thoughtfully, taking a moment to look at his hands. "I know I loved her. And that I was…falling in love with her." He sighed, giving a wobbly laugh without true mirth, and Peter understood immediately that he had uttered this sound to keep from breaking down. "But I think I was, for the most part. She made me feel fluttery and nervous, and happy." He looked at Peter, eyes sad. "It's weird, because I can't really understand being in love anymore, not like I could then. It came easily before, back when I was an adult, but I can't really grasp the concept now, like it isn't solid. Still," he murmured, expression steadying out, "I can remember how it felt, being with Lissy, and I think that's what it's like to be in love."
A throbbing filled Peter's heart at seeing Edmund like this, finally admitting just how deeply Lissy's absence had affected him, still yearning for the past but progressively beginning to move forward, no uncertainty in his eyes or voice. Something almost worse than nausea simmered up in his stomach, self disgust and a feeling beyond distress, because he knew that even while Edmund had not been ready to talk about this until now, he could have at least given him support and consolation; maybe not solace, but enough so that the grief wouldn't have been as deep. But he hadn't, caught up in his own selfishness, his own wants and angst, that he hadn't seen his brother's—hadn't tried or even wanted to see them.
So he grew quiet, trying to think of something else besides the painful wrenching of his stomach.