The High Queen II

Please don't let this be a Dream

Eleanor's fingers turned the pages of the book in her lap as she read aloud to Lucy, her voice steady but carrying a hint of something far deeper—an ache she wouldn't admit out loud. After living in Narnia for so long, books didn't offer the same escapism they once had. But Lucy still loved it when she read to her, and Eleanor would take any distraction she could find from their harsh reality.

They sat on a worn bench at the train station, their other siblings wandering about, waiting for the train that would take them to school. Eleanor was halfway through describing the firebird's first encounter with the girl in her story when shouting broke through the quiet hum of the station.

Her eyes snapped up from the pages, her crystal-blue gaze locking on a group of boys nearby. In the middle of the scuffle, Peter was throwing a punch.

"Ellie?" Lucy's voice was filled with unease as she tugged at her sister's sleeve.

Eleanor snapped her book shut, her jaw tightening. "Go get Susan," she said firmly, not taking her eyes off Peter. "I'll make sure our idiot brother doesn't get himself killed."

Lucy didn't need telling twice. She bolted toward the platform, her small frame dodging between passengers. Eleanor, meanwhile, made her way over to the growing circle around Peter, her footsteps calm, deliberate. She'd seen Peter fight before—hell, they'd fought side by side in battle—but this was different. This was reckless, selfish and stupid, and it made her blood boil.

Just as she approached, she caught sight of another boy, fist raised, about to sucker punch Peter from behind. Without thinking, Eleanor lunged forward, catching his fist in midair.

"It's cowardly to punch someone when their back's turned," Eleanor said with a sweet, dangerous smile. Her grip on the boy's fist tightened slightly, just enough to make him wince.

The boy yanked his hand back, narrowing his eyes at her. "Back off, sweetheart. Wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"Oh, please," Eleanor shot back, her voice laced with venom. "You couldn't hurt me if you tried."

Before the boy could retort, she punched him square in the face, the force sending him staggering back. He blinked, stunned, and wiped his bleeding nose. "You're gonna regret that."

"Try me," Eleanor said coldly as she shrugged off her red blazer and let it fall to the ground. Her sharp tongue wasn't just for words.

He lunged at her, grabbing her waist, but Eleanor's knee found his stomach in an instant. She pushed him off with a swift punch to the jaw, sending him stumbling. Just as she turned to face the next threat, another boy grabbed her from behind, locking her arms. Eleanor gritted her teeth, her muscles tense as she twisted, flipping him over her shoulder with ease. He hit the concrete hard, groaning as he tried to scramble to his feet.

Amateurs. The dwarves in Narnia had been tougher than these pathetic boys.

She spun around just in time to see Peter being held by two boys, his head dangerously close to the edge of the platform, hanging over the tracks. Eleanor's heart jumped into her throat as chants and jeers from the crowd of schoolboys filled the air.

Before she could act, Edmund barreled into one of the boys, tackling him to the ground. Peter used the distraction to kick off the other, scrambling to his feet. Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief, though it was short-lived. The two boys she'd already dealt with were getting back up, clearly not done with her.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Eleanor muttered under her breath.

One of them lunged, but she was faster. She kicked the first boy in the stomach, causing him to double over, then twisted her arm free of his grip. With a fluid movement, she turned to the second boy, catching his arm and yanking it behind his back. His face hit the ground with a dull thud as she swept his leg out from under him.