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WALKING IN THE WIND
vii. STAR-CROSSED YET AGAIN

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  THE STERN CABIN WAS Hope's favorite corner of the Dawn Treader for numerous reasons, but the only one that mattered was that it was quaint and quiet.

  The ship's crew members seldom poked their heads in there — only Caspian, Odette, Drinian, and whoever they were counseling with at that fleeting moment. It was snug and well-shaded, decorated with glistening Narnian artifacts and painted panels of some of Narnia's most famous fables. Images of fauns and birds danced against the wood. The portraits of the Pevensies, Hope, Caspian, and Odette were uncanny, as if enchanted with the essence of their souls. Hope had spent many hours in that Stern Cabin, neglecting her duties to simply admire every inch of it.

  Sailing was a difficult transition for the Bright Queen. She liked to keep busy, help out wherever the crew could benefit from an additional set of hands, but she became a little girl again every time she laid her eyes on the rolling tides around them. And even if she had a rare burst of bravery, the sailors refused to let their Queen perform any of their labors.

  Speaking of, Hope was overcoming her aversion for the ocean, slowly but surely. Captain Drinian sensed it long before she did, and he took every opportunity to tease her for it. Why was she becoming more comfortable with the sea, you may be wondering?

  That reason was sitting directly to her left at that very moment, distracting her from her responsibilities as the ship's designated cartographer transcriber.

  "I can't get Reepicheep's damn songs out of my head," Edmund muttered. For days on end, he'd been stripping the rough exterior caked to Lord Bern's old sword. The tinny tip of the blade was exposed now, but there was still more than half of the sword to go.

  Hope hummed as she dusted off the graphite from the table. "Which one? He has so many, I'm beginning to think he's making them up at this point."

  "You know," he said. Clink! Another piece of sediment chipped off Lord Bern's sword. "The one that goes, something-something, the Dutchman reeks at dawn."

  Hope's eyebrows creased. "What? The lyrics are, the dungeon creaks at dawn."

  "Huh? No, they're not!"

  "Why would a Dutchman be in Narnia? And why would he reek?"

  "Why would an Englishman be in Narnia?" Edmund sarcastically said, gesturing to himself. "Your version doesn't even make sense. How would a dungeon creak?"

  "Dunno. Could be a magical dungeon."

  "A magical dungeon? Really? That's what you're going with, dove?"

  "You have zero sense of imagination, Pevensie."

  Edmund laughed loudly. "Oh, that's rich, coming from you! Just last night, you were telling me that there's no conceivable way dragons could ever exist in Narnia. I thought I was having a stroke, hearing that from the girl who thinks clouds have feelings and the sun and moon are cosmically in love."

  "First of all, clouds do have feelings, and the sun and moon are star-crossed lovers!" Hope defended. "Second of all, I never said dragons don't exist in Narnia, helmet-head. I said dragons aren't natural to Narnia. Every book I've ever read that includes dragons has an anecdote about Aslan turning mortals into dragons as a consequence to their greed or foul behavior. Don't you know the story of how the Lone Islands came to be, King Know-It-All?"

  "In the early fourth century, after King Frank I and his descendants settled upon the islands, a dragon began to terrorize the Lone Islands some hundred years " Edmund recited, with far too much sass. "King Gale IX slayed the dragon, freeing the islands to its inhabitants once more. What's your point?"

  "Around that same time, Aslan turned a group of greedy Calormen into dragons after exhibiting wicked and greedy behavior. Where do you think the dragon that King Gale IX defeated came from, hm? Hm?"

  "Well, when a Mummy Dragon and a Daddy Dragon love each other very much—"

  Hope chucked a crumbled piece of parchment at his head.

  Still, she couldn't restrain herself from smiling.

  The door creaked open. Eustace poked his head inside for only a second before his eyes widened, registering the people present, and he disappeared behind the door again, as if to hide. Edmund's mood instantly waned. He ducked his head, focusing on Lord Bern's sword again.

  Hope swallowed a sigh. "Eustace, dear, are you hiding?"

  Eustace loudly scoffed and marched inside. "Of course not! That accusation is highly outrageous. I've nothing to hide, certainly not from my kidnappers or even my imbecilic cousin." He dusted off his clothes, preening himself. "Was simply inspecting the ship's infrastructure. It's amazing this vessel ever got approved to sail the seas. It's filthy, and the wood's ought to start rotting soon enough!"

  Edmund lifted his chin an inch, watching to see how exactly Hope was going to respond to... well, that.

  Hope hummed for a rather long few seconds. "I fear you might be right, Eustace."

  "I am?" asked Eustace. "I mean, of course, I am! ...About which part, exactly?"

  "It's outrageous to accuse you of hiding. You might be the only person that cares about the cleanliness of the ship. Odette and I have been trying to convince the men to tidy up, but it's helpless," Hope said without looking away from her map. Her pencil scratched the parchment. "Maybe if the boys started listening to proper Englishmen like you, we'll get somewhere."

  Eustace paused. Clearly, he was not expecting this reaction. When was the last time anyone ever agree with him? And not in the way his parents tended to, in that dismissive, sure, whatever sort of way. When was the last time anyone genuinely, honestly agreed with him without putting up a fight first?

  Eustace cleared his throat. "Ahem... Yes! Yes, I believe you're right... Hope." The name sounded so strange on his tongue, so amicable. He was used to hearing the constant Your Majesties and Your Highnesses, but for some reason, he felt like he could call Hope by her given name. "Speaking of, I've been meaning to ask, but how exactly do you know my cousins?"

  "Oh, Edmund and I are married."

  Eustace choked.

  "About... how long would you say now, Ed?" Hope asked. "A thousand years and some change, yes? We're overdue a few anniversaries."

  Eustace rolled his eyes. "I see. You're taunting me."

  "You've seen magical green mists that make people disappear and talking animals, yet that's where you draw the line?" Edmund chimed. "It's true, cousin. She's my imaginary girlfriend, as you once called her."

  "Imaginary?" Hope laughed. "Funny. That's how we talk about your siblings here. Do you know how long I've spent convincing some people that the Pevensies do exist and have ruled over Narnia?"

  "Pardon my confusion," Eustace interrupted. "You're... married? Who officiated the ceremony? An ordained circus monkey?"

  "Fairies," Edmund dismissively said.

  "Fairies—?"

  "Oh, you don't know the half of it," Hope said pleasantly. She offered the boy a smile. "So, is it alright if I ask why you're sneaking into my workspace again?"

  Eustace's face paled. "You... noticed?"

  "It has been a long time since I ever met someone with such stark audacity," Hope replied. "If only you channeled that into some courage, then we might have a decent knight on our hands. Now, out with it before I assign Reepicheep to babysit you again."

  Panicked, Eustace blurted, "I-I was just—!"

  Hope held out one of her spare pens. "Coming to steal again?"

  It wasn't like she hadn't seen him sneaking around different corners of the Dawn Treader to write in his diary. She wasn't even sure where he found a spare diary to write in. Maybe he stole it from her, and she didn't even realize it.

  Sheepish, Eustace came closer to take it. Just before his fingers could graze the pen, Hope yanked it out of his reach.

  "On this ship, the crew are like family. We don't keep secrets. We don't harm each other. And we certainly don't lie," Hope gently said. "If you could suspend your judgment and prejudices about me and my people for a moment, you'd come to understand that we're actually quite cordial. In fact, you could ask for anything as long as you do it nicely, and someone will see to it that you're taken care of, whether it's myself or your cousins or anyone, really. Respect is the only thing that keeps this ship afloat. We're stronger with it. Do you understand, Eustace?"

  Eustace swallowed hard. Speechless, he nodded.

  Hope's smile returned, and she gave him the pen. "Alright, off you go."

  Eustace had no shame as he scurried out of the Stern Cabin.

  At last, Edmund let out the laugh he'd been holding in. "The look on his face was priceless! You have no idea how long I've been waiting for someone to scold him like that."

  "I wasn't scolding him," Hope defended. "I was... gently parenting him, I guess? I don't know, I grew up with so many orphaned children back in Wysteria. They were scared enough of King David. I just did the best that I could with them and hoped they learned."

  Edmund smiled at her, softly, almost impossible to notice if you weren't looking closely. "You're quite good with him, you know. This is great practice for when we have all boys."

  "Excuse me?" Hope fired back. "We're having all girls."

  "Oh, you've decided it in advance!"

  "Well, it's not like you're the one that's going to carry them. Our girls will grow up riding horses on the beach, sword-fighting in the gardens, and outwitting you in chess." But Hope's mood suddenly fell. "...Assuming you'll... get to stay in Narnia."

  It was no secret that both Edmund and Hope were doing everything they could to avoid the question of the future. It was too daunting, too harrowing to imagine, let alone discuss like it could really happen sometime soon. When? It was impossible to say. Aslan could rip them away from Narnia at midnight, and there would be nothing Hope could do or say about it.

  And she understood the lion's intentions. She knew that everything he did was for a reason, and everything he didn't do had a hidden message. His motives rested with making Narnia and its people better, no matter what. It was why Susan and Peter could no longer return to Narnia. They'd learned everything they needed to from Aslan and Narnia.

  Soon, Edmund and Lucy would face the same fate.

  And then what?

  Slowly, Edmund looked up at her, with a notch between his eyebrows. Carefully, and very objectively, he stated, "My family's in England."

  Hope didn't know why she flinched. "I know."

  Again, carefully and objectively, he said, "You... live in Narnia."

  He was replying with facts. That was what he was best at. But Hope was not like that. Her heart overruled her brain in nearly every instance.

  But she tried, just once, to speak his language. "Yes.  And you... don't."

  "You've lived in England before."

  "Not by choice. I would've never chosen to go to England if I had the option to all those years ago."

  "You didn't know what England was like then. You were scared. You were alone. But this time would be different!" Edmund offered. "You could come back, and be with us, be with me."

  All of the air in the room seemed to dissipate. Hope's chest tightened. "Odette is in Narnia. Caspian is in Narnia. I don't care for the crown necessarily, but my people, my home, my entire life and every meaningful achievement I've made in my life... Everything I have is in Narnia."

  "Except..." Edmund hesitated to say it. "Except me."

  Hope pressed her face into her hands, sighing. "Why does this keep happening to us? Why is it that every time I think, 'This is it. We can finally live together and have adventures and be happy,' there's the threat of it all being taken away over our heads?" she weakly asked. "From the beginning, the universe has never favored us."

  Edmund set his sword aside and approached her. He kissed her forehead, pulling her hands away from her face, and kneeled on the ground before her where she sat. He didn't speak for a moment. He just... looked at her, watched her, ran his thumb along her hand.

  "We have time to figure it out," Edmund whispered.

  "Figure what out?" she asked, bitter. "Do you think...?" She squeezed her eyes shut, disgusted with herself for even thinking what she just thought. "Do you think this will be the last time we ever see each other? I-I mean, are we going to have to... somehow... dissolve our marriage—?"

  "Don't. Please, Hope. Please don't say that." His grasp on her hands tightened. "Don't give up so easily."

  "But Edmund—"

  "I love you, Hope," firmly said Edmund, as if it was an argument that he intended on winning. "I destroyed an entire kingdom because I have loved you from the beginning, from the moment you ran into me all those years ago. I believe in change and the future and fairytales because I love you. I am not spending the rest of my life without you in it. Not again."

  Not again. The words brought a chill through the cabin.

  Sometimes, Hope forgot that Edmund grew to adulthood during Narnia's Golden Age, only for those years to be stripped from him and his siblings as they tumbled back into the real world again. All those years, Edmund groveled and pined and searched for any trace of her.

  Not again, he'd said. And he meant that with every fiber in his being.

  Hope's shoulders fell. Her body wanted to cry, but she refused to let the tears out. Still, she gave a shaky sigh and sniffled. "I love you, too," she quietly said. "And, whether here or there, I know you'll love our girls just as much."

  Edmund's serious demeanor cracked. He chuckled, dipping his head to rest against her lap. "It's going to happen. We're going to have a life together. I would follow you to the edge of the world. In fact, I already am."

  "You really shouldn't. I'm terrible at seafaring."

  "Yes, Drinian has mentioned something about that. Our boys will inherit my sense of direction."

  "Oh, shut up. Aslan forbid they inherit your struggle to communicate your feelings."

  "I mean it, dove."

  "What, that I'm shit at sailing?"

  Edmund laughed again, and it was the sweetest sound Hope ever heard. "I mean, I have known for a long time that you're it for me. Even when our souls weren't bound, I knew it would be you. No one will ever compare."

  Hope ran a hand through his raven hair. "We've conquered worse odds before."

  After all, it was never supposed to happen this way. They were never supposed to cross paths in the first place. One from England, the other from Wysteria. One was a glorious king, the other was a measly handmaid. Even from the beginning, they were from entirely different worlds, stars from different skies. And, somehow, they beat the odds every time.

  But... never for long.

  Was there any point in trying to stop the clock for a few more seconds together? Was there any point in believing they could spend the rest of their lives together?

  They'd been viciously torn from each other twice now. It was becoming a nasty tradition. Their time together was getting shorter and shorter. Every time Hope thought about it, she felt like her heart was collapsing through her ribs. She wished she could have both. Her life in Narnia with Odette, and her husband. And for now, for a few blinks of time, she did.

  But she did think about the future a lot, even more now that she was a ruler. And just as dark ages never last, neither do golden ages.

  Star-crossed yet again. She wouldn't wish this curse on anyone.

  Even then, if she could go back in time and prevent this heartache, she wouldn't change a thing. Ruling and conquering were wonderful adrenaline rushes, but there was no greater privilege in the world than being able to love and be loved.