₁.₀ YES TO HEAVEN; peter pevensie ✔

007.

Birdie's neck is still sore from sleeping on the ground, and she can't stand it.

Well, maybe it wasn't sleeping on the ground, exactly. Her consciousness wasn't quick to return to her in the morning, yet it didn't take Birdie long to realise that the surface underneath her chin was far less uncomfortable than might have been expected. Upon opening her eyes, it was with utter horror that she realised the most terrible truth - she hadn't returned to her place by the fire at all, falling asleep by Peter's side instead, her head resting partly against his shoulder.

Her first instinct was, of course, to get away as quickly as possible, but she couldn't risk waking the boy up. She could already feel the colour rising to her cheeks, and to have him become aware of the ridiculous situation they'd found themselves in would be so much worse. Birdie could never live that down.

Thank God her prayers were answered somehow and both Peter's sisters and the Beavers were just as unaware of everything as she creeped back to her proper spot, Mr. Beaver snoring soundly in the background.

Through, for some reason she can't quite figure out, the memory of such an unexpected experience can't be thrown out of her mind. Even now, Birdie finds it hard to look Peter in the eye. Which is rather annoying, considering the fact he and Susan are walking right beside her, with Lucy and the Beavers a couple feet ahead.

"Last night..." she hears Peter say, "when you said there was a lot on your mind, what did you mean?"

"Last night?" Susan's head turns as the girl cuts in before Birdie has a chance to respond, her tone curious. "And when did you two had a chance to talk last night?"

Instinctively, Birdie opens her mouth to explain it to the girl that she couldn't sleep (who could blame her, considering their current predicament?), but then she decides against it. She gets this feeling sometimes... like she knows she could just as well speak, and yet it suddenly occurs how many words shall be needed, and then it all just seems rather pointless. What use is explaining something that holds no true meaning?

So, instead, she says, "I think the Professor might know."

The two siblings send her puzzled looks. "Know what?"

"About Narnia. I..." With frustration starting to build up inside her, Birdie lets out a sigh. It's clear to her what she wishes to say, what massage she wants her words to convey, but finding the right way of expressing it seems surprisingly troublesome. "Perhaps not about Narnia in particular, I'm not sure. But he definitely knows about the fact that that wardrobe we came here through is no ordinary piece of furniture. You don't know him, so I suppose it's not something you would have noticed, but there was something about the way his whole demeanor changed the moment you mentioned the wardrobe... He was ready to dismiss all this talking about Lucy's claim to have found a magical land as a child's fantasy. Kindly, but knowing that there's no truth behind it. But then you added that part about the wardrobe and that slightly amused smile died on his lips."

"Maybe it was because nobody was supposed to be in that room at all. Since you say you don't remember ever stepping foot inside it... It would be no wonder the Professor could be cross about Lucy having gone there."

Susan's way of thinking is not entirely without reason, and yet...

"No, I don't think that's it." Birdie shakes her head. "It was more like... Imagine something wonderful happening to you. Something so unreal that, with time, you start to question yourself - what if it's all been simply a dream, a fantasy? Reason kicks in and soon enough that's what you believe, only the smallest bit still faithful to the memory." She doesn't know whether it's good that they've found themselves in Narnia. In fact, it causes problems rather than brings joy, and she can't help but long for home. As she speaks, though, Birdie begins to imagine what it would mean for the Professor if this was all true. It saddens her to imagine him like this, doubting himself... "And then it turns out it wasn't your imagination playing tricks on you. You learn that it's happening all over again. Only..." she adds after a while, remembering the fact that the look in the man's eye was not only full of interest, but sadness, too, "only this time it's not you."