The Forgotten (Peter Pevensie x OC)

Chapter 1

She gasped and opened her eyes, one hand flying to her head. She was sweating hard, the bedsheets tangled around her legs and her pillow on the floor. Evelyn laid her head back on the matress, the side of her head throbbing from where it hit the dresser. Stupid nightmares!
She rolled her eyes, dragging herself out of bed. It was barely past 5, and the sun was only giving the horizon the smallest sliver of warmth and light, but it didn't matter. Evelyn had always preferred this time of day, when it was cool.
She tip-toed over to the window, gazing down at the dew-covered grounds. The garden was always the most beautiful in the mornings, when the morning light gently brushed against the flower petals and tickled the treetops. It was so still, so peaceful. She sighed. If only that were the case with her.
She had woken up in the middle of her usual nightmare, the one that made no sense. She closed her eyes, just like every other morning, and tried to understand it.

It started with the flashes.
Vivid pictures running through her mind in a blur. The ones she could identify sparked no recognition.
An ice blue castle.
A silver sword.
A row of blue targets.
A lion.
And a lamppost.
Then came the thing that really puzzled her. The part of the dream so vivid, it could've been her very own memories.
She lay on a cold, hard slab of blue, gazing at the tiny pricks of light. Sounds came from below, screaming and crying. Her heart ached, and she desperately wanted to help, but before she could, someone blocked her.
"Hello, sweetie!" The figure stood in front of the light, so it was impossible to see her features, but her voice was enough. It was sickly sweet, and unnatural. Like it was being forced. This was not the kind of woman who laughed. It was highly likely that she had never felt joy or happiness once in her life. She was like ice.
"You shouldn't be wandering around. You should be training. Let me get someone to help you."
A second figure joined the first, growling a little. She felt her heart jolt, and knew that this 'training' would not end well. She tried to run, but something rooted her to the ground. The second figure came closer, until she could feel his breath on her cheek. It smelled of something not so fresh. But just before anything else could happen, she blacked out.

Suddenly, she could feel harsh wind in her face, and her eyes fluttered just for a moment, but all that she could see was white. The next thing she knew was cold seeping into her bones, comforting her. She flicked her eyes open for the tiniest second, and saw a flash of trees, snow and...something gold? Before she could look again, warm air gently pushed at her cheeks, making her feel uncomfortable and sticky.

Evelyn sighed. Nope. Even after twelve years, she still couldn't understand it. Her gazed focused on a lone figure holding a basket in the middle of the field outside, and she raced to her closet. She grabbed her comfiest pants and shirt, roughly pulling them on. Struggling to hop into her leather boots, she awkwardly hobbled silently down the stairs, hoping to avoid the terrifying monster the shared a house with, known as "the Macready". She, without a doubt, would not approve of Evelyn's choice of clothing, probably sparking her useless talk of "Young girls should not do well to go galavanting around in such uncivilised attire! Where are your dresses? I will not have a lady under my care do such reckless things as the men do, for who would want a lady that is so improper." Not once had she ever seemed to catch onto the fact that Evelyn did not want to be a proper young lady, nor to marry. But Evelyn could breath a quiet sigh of relief as she slipped out the back door into the fresh morning air. Away from the criticism of the housekeeper.

He was waiting in the stables when she arrived. Leaning against the door, watching as she entered, a sheepish grin pulling the corners of her mouth.
"Morning" she zipped up her boots.
"Again?" He sighed.
"I slept in!" She lied.
"Nightmare?"
She sighed, knowing there was no use keeping it a secret.
"Yeah, well, it's not like i choose for them to happen!"
"Anything make sense this time?"
"Nope."
"Ah, well. Maybe next time." She rolled her chocolate-colored eyes.
"I hope there isn't a 'next time'." Evelyn sighed.
"You say that every day." Noah smiled.
"I know. Doesn't mean I can't hope that it'll stop!"
Noah smirked. "Do you know how easy it is to annoy you?"
"Shut up." Evelyn glared at him playfully, swinging herself over her mares back, her brother and best friend quickly following suit.
"You know I can't do that! Annoying you is too fun!" She rolled her eyes.
"C'mon, let's get out of here before the witch catches us." Her face was poker straight, never once betraying that she was making a joke.
"Too late." Noah smirked, watching as the familiar figure of Mrs Macready entered the stables.