꧁the new prophecy꧂✔︎

❦︎AU EPILOGUE❦︎

[AU in where Y/N and Edmund lived to at least have a child before they passed away]

When the two nineteen-year-old lovers, Y/N and Edmund announced they were expecting a child, everyone was shocked.

Susan was the most, saying as she was going to become an aunt and sharing godparent duties with the rest of her siblings.

Mr. Pevensie and Helen were excited, a new Pevensie to be claimed by the world.

And M/N was told the news over phone, saying as she was in hospital for a terrible cough.

Nevertheless, Y/N was handled like a fragile vase by Edmund. Even when he kissed her, he was always careful not to get to close to her growing bump.

They had even picked out names when Y/N made three months pregnant without any complications.

Her and Edmund had a nursery made and bought by saved up money from the small jobs in their small home.

Even Helen had offered them to move in with her, her husband and Lucy. But they wanted to seem like adults, mature and independent.

What they were too naive to know about, was that some adults need advice, act childish time-to-time, and depend on someone else to help them.

But the soon-to-be-parents didn't want to think about that perspective and carried on living their lives the best they could.

When Y/N made it to seven months pregnant, she and her extended family went on a train. Enjoying their week off of work and school.

But Y/N thought she would walk in home again, going up to the nursery to add more stuff into shelves she had just bought.

But no, that didn't work out.

She woke up in tremendous pain, she heard beeps all around her and screams and sobs coming from outside.

Susan. It was Susan. A women she was proud to call a sister figure.

Y/N felt her eyes close again, before the door slammed open.

"Y/N. Bloody hell, you better keep your eyes open, please. For me, for your mum, for your baby." She heard Susan cry.

Y/N didn't notice that she laid, her stomach stitched back up, missing a growing child inside of it.

"Please, you still have name her. She's crying, she needs her mummy." Susan sobbed.

The older women saw Y/N's chest rise. But Y/N didn't take another intake of oxygen.

The girl Susan had grown up defended, hugging, protecting, was now dead, in front of her on a bed.

Susan let out another sob, before running out. Looking at the doctors, who all sighed.

"We're terribly sorry, Ms. Pevensie."

"Where's my niece? I need to see her." Susan ordered.

"She's in the other room. Since she was born prematurely, she's not in a good state." They informed the lady.

She heard but didn't reply before going into the different room, seeing all the different premature infants before her eyes landed on a huge Pevensie written on the bottom of the transparent box.

The soft breathing of her niece reassured her that Susan had a bit of Edmund and Y/N left with her.

She wasn't going to let the two down
--

Susan had no clue what to name her niece, so she called her, Aurora. It was one of the many fairytales that Susan used to read to her younger siblings while living with the Professor.

Aurora grew up beautiful, with Edmund's dark curls, rosy cheeks, her mother's eyes, and a mixture of their cheery, mischievous personalities.

Susan was left raising a five-year-old and trying to brace herself for the day to come where Aslan would take Aurora to Narnia.

Susan had no reason to believe in such fairytales that filled her and her siblings heads, she was a grown woman and was confused to see why the other four had still believed they would return.

But maybe they were right, maybe now they now rested, maybe Aslan had taken them into Narnia once again.

M/N had died months prior, from all the stress and sadness of seeing her daughters offspring but without her daughter there.

Aurora would always ask if her parents would ever come back for her.

And all Susan could say was, "One day, when you're older, maybe, you'll see them again."

The older Pevensie didn't know if that would be Narnia calling for the heir of the throne or just going to heaven, dying peacefully.

And now Susan felt as if she had to tell the stories of Narnia to her niece, she deserved to know what was to come if Aslan would ever show up.