The Forgotten (Peter Pevensie x OC)

Chapter 11

Everything was blurry. Outside, people were laughing and celebrating at the arrival of the prophesied children, the future King and Queens, but inside the tent, everything was ice. Everything was stone.

Evelyn sat, head in hands, on the floor. She was confused, and angry. Sad, and afraid. It hurt. Now that she knew what was happening, she could feel it. It was kind of like when you fall over, but you don't even realise that you are hurt until someone says "you're bleeding!" and all of a sudden, you can only feel the pain from the wound.

It was just like that.

It felt like she had an arrow in her heart. In her soul. She felt betrayed. Alone.

She had nowhere else to go.

And it hurt.

So much.

Tears streamed down her face, but she didn't bother to wipe them off. They were tears of shame, and betrayal, and she wanted everyone to see.

Not actually.

If anyone saw her like this, she would die of embarrassment. But she didn't mind that. It wasn't like she was going to live anyway. Why should she care?

Just like your mother. She never cared either.

She had no idea why that thought had sprung to the front of her mind so suddenly, but she knew it had always been there. Always.

Aslan's words rang through her head, over and over, like the bells Mrs. Macready always rang for dinner.

Destroy...

Power...

Inside...

Contained...

Each word dug the arrow further into her heart, pushing the pain farther into her soul.

Destroying yourself from the inside out.

That was what he had said. She had been so confused in the seconds before he explained, and she missed that. She hated not knowing, but it was better than this.

It's all my fault.

She tried her hardest to hold her sobs in as she revisited the terrible truth.

It's my fault. If I didn't leave, the witch would never have had the chance to take over Narnia.

But Aslan took her away.

Because he wanted to protect me. If I was never around, the witch would never have had this much power. It's all my fault. Maybe it's better if I never existed at all.

But she knew that wasn't an option. If she died, the witch would get all of the power. She would be unstoppable, so consumed by magic that it would not only kill all of Aslan and his troops, but her as well. Narnia would fall into chaos without a leader, and then it would be destroyed.

The whole of Narnia's fate was in her hands. One wrong move could make it crumble.

All her fault.

"Evelyn?" Noah pushed aside the tent flaps. "We need to get ready fo-" he stopped short at the sight of her curled into a ball on the floor, head shaking in her hands. He knelt, pulling her in for a hug. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to. He just held her as she broke.
All her walls came crashing down the second her pulled her into a hug. They crumbled like gingerbread, and it all came tumbling out.

Everything.

Every emotion that she had pushed behind those unbreakable walls, broke through. Every single one. Every painful memory, every broken promise, it all came out in a tidal wave of hate, and shame, and sadness, and fear.