Narnia – Troubled Thoughts of a Sleepwalker

By Allyson

(A/N – C. S. Lewis owns all of Narnia)

Edmund couldn't sleep. Peter would be returning from University for the weekend tomorrow and Edmund was missing his older brother's presence more than ever.

The atmosphere in the Pevensie household was tense and bordering on insufferable. Though they were lucky enough to have their father return from the war, Edmund had hardly seen both of his parents over the past few months as they both had to work long hours to make ends meet. The main cause of friction was caused by Susan. She'd thrown herself completely into making new friends and attending as many parties as possible. Her behaviour upset their mother but crushed her little sister, Lucy, who had once been very close to her. Now, they seemed to do nothing but bicker amongst themselves. Edmund tried to either keep the peace between the two girls or stay out of it all together. In a way he understood Susan's behaviour but he didn't want her to push him away as well. However, Edmund was finding it more and more difficult to cope with both girls' tempers. Especially on the touchy subject of Narnia.

Only that morning, Lucy had been comparing the jam of England to the jams they had eaten in Narnia. Edmund had watched as Susan's expression closed off and she'd dismissively laughed at Lucy's imagination. An argument had ensued, resulting in both sisters refusing to talk to one another for the rest of the day.

Edmund leaned his aching head back against the sofa. He wanted Peter to show up now and make everything better again – or at least liveable so that Edmund could get a decent night sleep.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs interrupted Edmund's train of thought. Opening his eyes and leaning forwards to see through the open doorway, he was surprised to see Susan wander passed and head towards the kitchen. Getting to his feet, he left the living room to follow her when another creak on the stairs stopped him. Looking up, he found a tired-looking Lucy squinting down at him in the dim light.

"She's sleep-walking again," Lucy murmured, so as not to wake their parents.

Edmund nodded and gave her a kind smile. "I'll look after her, Lu," he replied. "Go back to bed."

Lucy nodded with a grateful smile and disappeared back upstairs.

Edmund took a deep breath before entering the kitchen. Enough moonlight shone through the kitchen window so that he could watch Susan's movements. She kept opening cupboard doors and drawers in search for something.

"Where is it? Where is it?" she kept murmuring to herself, with a frown of deep thought. "How can I bake a cake for Peter if I can't find . . . Oh, here it is."

Edmund watched as she heaved out the heavy pottery mixing bowl. Susan turned to place the bowl on the kitchen table but unknowingly misjudged the distance. Edmund lunged forwards and managed to catch the bowl before it could smash to the floor. He placed it on the table in time to catch the flour container that Susan had unwittingly knocked as she passed by searching for a spoon.

"If only we had strawberries," sighed Susan, staring blankly at a spot two inches to the side of Edmund's head. Her unnatural stare caused the skin on the back of Edmund's neck to crawl uncomfortably. "Peter always loved the strawberry flans I used to make in Narnia."

Edmund's eyes widened in surprise and his heart tugged painfully at her words. It had been months since his sister had openly talked about Narnia except for dismissing it as a dream or a game made up by the Professor.

"The strawberries never tasted sour like they do here . . ."

A cracking sound caused Edmund to flinch in surprise and he found that the egg that Susan had picked up had cracked in her white knuckled fist. Picking up the nearby tea-towel, Edmund gently took hold of Susan's arm and wiped away the yellow yolk from her tensed up fingers. It dripped through her fingers and pooled onto the floor, but Susan didn't notice. Her eyes were beginning to glisten wetly.

"Everything was so simple there," she murmured, her voice catching and breaking. She slid down the cabinet into a crumpled heap on the floor, pulling Edmund down with her. "Everything was so . . . perfect."

Her head whipped around to stare directly at Edmund, nearly knocking him out in the process.

"Did I do something so bad that I was exiled?"

A tear trickled down her cheek and Edmund felt the breath escape him as he looked into his sister's lonely heartbroken face.

"No, Su," he whispered, hoarsely, passed the lump that was forming in his throat. "You did nothing wrong, I promise. Aslan must have had a good reason, I'm sure."

"He left me," breathed Susan in the silence that followed, before her body was racked with sobs.

Edmund could feel his own eyes tear up as he pulled his sister into a fierce hug. They clung to each another on the cold kitchen floor as if they would drown if they let go.

Edmund didn't know how long they were sat on the floor for, though he could hear the ticking of the hall clock echoing loudly in his ears. Glancing down, Edmund found that Susan had finally sobbed herself back into a deep sleep again. Getting to his feet, Edmund winced as his knees cracked painfully. As gently as he could, he pulled Susan into his arms. Knowing he wouldn't be able to carry her up the stairs, he carried her into the living room and laid her down on the sofa. Pulling the crocheted blanket from off a nearby chair, he covered his sister with it, grateful that she now looked more peaceful.

Taking hold of his sister's hand, Edmund made himself comfortable sitting on the floor next to her. He told himself he'd stay just long enough to make sure she didn't sleepwalk again before he went to clean up the kitchen.

Moments later, Edmund was fast asleep and would remain so until Peter woke both him and Susan up the next morning with an amused smile.