Chapter Text
Magnificence had a crown. Gentle had wings. Just had a sword. Valiant had fangs.
Peter has his fists. Susan has her lips. Edmund has his tongue. Lucy has her feet.
—
“Father’s coming home,” Susan announced, sitting on the sofa.
Peter glanced over the top of his book to stare at her, “How do you know that sister?”
Susan held up a neatly opened letter. Taking it from her, Peter noticed it was a letter addressed to Helen Pevensie. He raised an eyebrow in silent request for an explanation. Laughing softly, his sister gently took the letter back and folded her hands on top of it in her lap.
“Hel-Mum is at the shop, and this letter was just delivered. I noticed it was from George- er father and decided to get some information directly from the source as we are usually denied it.”
“Sensible course of action, dear sister,” Peter hummed softly, “Though I do wonder how you will hide this endeavor from mum’s prying gaze.”
A familiar smirk adorned Susan's lips as Peter regarded her, “I shall simply reseal the letter and put it in the study, it will be quite easy. No one but you and I shall know, darling brother.”
“Good,” Peter nodded. “Be sure the others don’t see you, I trust they’ll stay silent, but we do not need Helen suspecting we all know more than we should.”
Susan stood gracefully, bowed her head and muttered, “As you wish, my king.” And for a second, Peter was no longer in a small house in Finchley, he was no longer looking at Susan Pevensie. For a tiny, miniscule second, Peter was home in the family sitting room of Cair Paravel looking at his dearest sister, High Queen Susan the Gentle. Then he blinked and the image was swept from his mind as Susan floated out of the room.
—
Helen was worried. Now this was not anything strange, Helen was often worried about a multitude of things. Her husband off at war, the potential of more bombings, rations getting low, etc. However, Helen was now worried about her children. They had gone off to the country wide-eyed and terrified, but the children had come back strange. She had expected them to be different, they had been gone for almost an entire year after all, but they all came back not only different but slightly wrong.
Currently, Helen was sitting at the dining table as her eldest daughter cooked dinner. She had offered to help but had quickly been refused and brushed aside.
Susan, Helen thought, out of all of them was the least odd, she still acted like the soft-spoken young lady Helen had said goodbye to at the train station. Though now it didn’t feel like a girl attempting to play the part of a woman, now it felt natural. Instead of clunky steps in an attempt to emulate grace, Susan effortlessly and silently glided as if she was floating slightly off the ground, not walking. Her curls were looser, somehow always perfectly framing her face even when tied up. Her dresses flattered her body better and her make-up was barely noticeable, often attracting attention from boys in town. There were some things Susan did though, that she never did before she left.
Helen's daughter was calmer, stating her opinions in a soft yet strong voice that demanded you respect and listen to her. On clear sunny days Susan could be found laying out in the grass, often humming songs Helen didn’t know, to herself.
Helen had asked why Susan did that after the third day in a row the sun had been out, and Susan had spent the entire day outside, Peter even having to bring a sandwich out to make sure she ate. Susan had simply smiled and answered that she missed the sun.
Now, it had been a few years since Helen had last been to the country but she was pretty sure it was not too much sunnier than the city.
Peter was similar, often staring out the window at the sky with a wistful look no matter the weather. He held his head high and steady as if he was balancing something on it and walked with purpose, no longer as clumsy and energetic as he used to be. He also listened to his siblings more, always hearing them out in full before offering his opinion or making a decision. His voice was slightly deeper and just like his sister demanded you listen and respect every word spoken.
However, with everyone besides his siblings he was angry and often volatile throwing fists for the smallest of slights. His hands were also often scraped not just from fights but also from using sticks as swords and sparring with his brother. The first time Helen heard about Peter fighting she had rushed home worried her little boy was hurt and wanting to know why her responsible, reasonable oldest child was fighting.
When she finally got home however Peter was sitting on the sofa with bandaged hands and a cup of tea balanced on his leg. He looked bewildered as she fussed over him saying she needn’t worry as his sisters had already taken care of it.
Despite several reminders, none of the children seemed able to remember that they had a mother again, and when questioned on any dubious or strange actions they would often say a sibling said they could, even if it was a younger one. The most memorable of these moments for Helen was when Peter said Susan told him he could climb to the roof of the house at dawn, or when Susan said Lucy told her she could throw knives in the garden in the middle of the day, or when Edmund said Peter told him he could go to the shop alone late in the evening, and when Lucy said Edmund told her she could dig a huge hole in the garden and fill it with water while Helen was at work all day.
Edmund was the one who changed the most. He was quieter and more reasonable, not starting arguments with his siblings anymore. Gone was the boy who yelled and shoved because he didn’t know how to handle the fact his father was gone. Now he used his sharp tongue for his siblings instead of against.
Just like his older sister he moved fluidly and silently, like an adult in a child's body, often accidentally sneaking up on Helen and preferring to sit in the darker corners of the house. When in conversation with his siblings he would speak soft and slow as if he was used to speaking in whispers. If Susan was found on the ground when it was sunny, Edmund was found in the trees often with a thick book from his father's study or the daily newspaper, occasionally speaking to his sister about whatever he just read. Though when it was raining or storming he could be found curled under multiple blankets listening to Peter read while Susan made him tea and cookies.
Lucy just like her older siblings seemed to have grown up immensely in the several months she was gone. She now could hold her own in arguments and debates with the others instead of running and crying to Helen as she used to. Just like her older sister she was soft and graceful, no longer skipping around like the eight-year-old she was.
Unlike her siblings who stayed inside when it stormed, Lucy could be found out in the garden at all times no matter the weather, dancing and singing in words Helen couldn’t understand. After she dug the big hole and filled it with water she would often swim and occasionally drag her siblings out with her despite Helen's attempts to get her to fill the hole. Lucy would also speak to the animals she came across as if they could understand and converse back. That was thankfully, something that hadn’t changed in her darling little girl, Lucy’s head was still permanently in the clouds.