Lucy’s new bedroom did not feel like hers.
The sheets weren’t scratchy like the ones in the Professor’s house, but they weren’t like the sheets at home either. Lucy was sick of new sheets.
And there was no one to complain to either. No one to talk to, no one to hug, and no one to tell her that everything was okay. Everyone else had different rooms and it wasn’t fair. Lucy missed sleeping with Susan on the bed across from her. Susan snored, but…well, there was some comfort in knowing someone was right there if Lucy needed it. Without her, things were lonely and scary and dark in a way it never seemed in the daylight. The shadows seemed bigger and the silence was terrifying. But it’s not like she could really complain since Peter and Susan had asked her if she wanted her own room and she had said yes because it had seemed so exciting and grown up and she was a queen now. Being grown up didn’t sound nearly so exciting in the dark.
She had tried to go to sleep, honestly, she had! But it just hadn’t happened, and Lucy was left staring at the ceiling restlessly.
Lucy slipped out of her room, silently closing the door behind her as quietly as she could.
She didn’t want to wake anyone.
She wandered out into a silent Cair Paravel, grey and still in the night in a strange peaceful-lonely sort of way. At least it was less dark and lonely than her room. The full moon shone silvery bright from a window, leaving glimmering strips of light and shadow reaching into the corridor.
Lucy sighed, and it sounded loud in the silence.
The cold stone under her bare feet sent shivers down her arms and she started walking. She wasn’t going anywhere in particular, she just wanted to do something instead of just lying there in the dark.
A whisper of a breeze blew down the hall and Lucy tasted salt. Pausing, she tried to remember her way out to the balcony.
Down the hallway, cross this room, go around the feasting hall, up these stairs, down that corridor. Eventually, she made her way onto the balcony overlooking the Eastern Ocean.
Lucy caught her breath.
The moon shone strong and brilliant, but even its vast luminescence could not dull the lights scattering the night sky. Lucy could hardly bear to call them stars because they were nothing like the stars from the other place. Even on the darkest nights, when the curfew had caused blackout curtains to be drawn and door jambs stuffed into the smallest cracks, those stars had never seemed as breathtakingly beautiful as these. Not that Lucy was normally allowed outside on blackout nights anyway.
These stars were like gemstones on black velvet. Their glorious reflections touched the sea as it rose and fell, swelling gently and causing the starry host to dance merrily on the waters’ surface.
Lucy was so caught up in the view (she was, in fact, gaping at the heavens as if she’d never seen them before in her life), that she hadn’t noticed another person already standing at the edge of the balcony.
The silhouette shifted on its feet, catching her eye, and Lucy suddenly felt like an intruder. She was about to duck back inside when the person spoke.
“The view’s even better from here.” He offered, and Lucy realised it was Edmund.
She cautiously approached, a little nervous and a little worried she was going to be scolded and sent back to bed.
“Hey,” She said quietly, not wanting to destroy the peacefulness of the moment.
He said nothing, just gave her a quick smile and went back to drinking in the view.
Lucy waited for a moment, wondering if he was going to say something else. When he didn’t, she decided to go back to appreciating the glorious heavens herself.
Thousands upon thousands of stars she could never hope to count, the moon a looming yet friendly presence, joining in with the revelry as the celestial sphere rotated imperceptibly causing the stars to rise and set in a circuitous dance. It was like glitter had been scattered across the skies. Another offshore breeze blew onto them, playing with Lucy’s upbraided hair and brushing Edmund’s cheeks.
“Can’t sleep?” Ed suddenly asked, and Lucy startled, the whites of her eyes visible in the moonlight.
“Um, yes,” She admitted, earlier worries about being sent back to bed resurfacing.
“Me neither,” Edmund sighed.
“Really?”
“It’s too quiet.”
“I think so too!” Lucy said, excited that someone agreed with her, “I normally sleep with Susan but without her…”
She trailed off, remembering that she was supposed to be quiet. Better not to wake Peter or Susan; they might send her to bed.
“I know what you mean,” Ed said conspiratorially with a smile, “Peter tosses and turns but I miss him when he’s not there.”
“Susan snores!” Lucy giggled, sharing a grin with her brother. They lapsed into silence.
“Do you know any constellations?” Lucy suddenly asked. She was barely ever allowed out at night in the Other Place, but at the Professors’ Peter had let them stay up late once. They had gone outside, and Peter had pointed out some of the star patterns Father had taught him. Peter called them constellations and there was a bear that looked like a ladle, a lion that looked like a coat hanger and that one big star called…Lucy couldn’t quite remember, but it meant that way was north.
“No, Father only got to show Peter on a camping trip once before Father enlisted. But I don’t think these stars would be the same as those stars anyway.” Ed said thoughtfully.
“Oh,”
“We could always make our own?” Ed suggested tentatively.
“Oh yes!” Lu exclaimed, then repeated much softer, “Yes please.”
They stared very hard at the stars, trying to find a pattern they could turn into a constellation. It took much longer than either expected. Making up constellations was hard. Lucy found several pretty stars, but none of them looked like anything in particular.
Finally, Ed began slowly, “I think I’ve found one-” he paused, and then added more certainly, “-yes, I think I have. Do you see up there?”
He pointed to a spot right above the coastline to their left.
“Do you see that big blueish one? Right above that giant rock?”
“I think so,” Lu murmured, squinting a little.
“That’s the eye, and see how there’s three above it vertically in a line? Like a back and a tail.” He waited for her confirmation before continuing, “And the two orangey ones coming out from the middle? They’re the legs.”
“I can see it!” Lu said with an excited smile, “What is it?”
“A leopard.” Ed said proudly. *
“That’s perfect, Ed,” Lu said, still smiling brightly, “So, what’s the story for it?”
“Story?”
“Peter’s constellations always had a story,” Lucy asserted, all matter of fact and leaving him no choice except to come up with something.
“Uh, well,” He trailed off, “I guess I was inspired by that leopard, you know, the one who carried Aslan’s banner?”
“You mean Por and Leo? There’s two of them, not just one.” Lucy giggled at her brother’s lack of storytelling skill. **
“Ah,” Ed said awkwardly, embarrassed he hadn’t known there were two, and that he hadn’t known their names.
“They’re twins, so they look the same,” Lucy offered, stifling her giggles when she saw the awkward look on her brother’s face.
After a moment of silence, Ed spoke again, “Sorry my story wasn’t better.”
“It was fine. Maybe Por or Leo will have an adventure? Then there will be a story.” Lucy said with a smile. “Also, I couldn’t even find a good pattern, so at least you found one.”
“True,” Ed said, smiling back.
They stared at the sky again, the heavens dancing in circles before their eyes to the slow music of Time itself. The moon had begun to set, and the stars gleamed ever brighter to compensate for his absence. The soft swoosh-swoosh of the waves of the beach caught at their ears, and Lucy yawned, leaning against the railing.
Eventually, the two ended up sitting against the balusters, backs to the sea and the moon but with the stars still visible overhead beside the shadow of Cair Paravel. Edmund had noticed that Lu had drifted off half an hour ago, and he had meant to take her back to bed, but hadn’t wanted to wake her and, well, he was getting tired himself.
Edmund had been thinking too much, his thoughts going in circles, like the stars.
A king? He had thought, how could I be a king? I was a traitor, and now Aslan wants me to be a king? I’d be an awful king. It was ludicrous. How could anyone trust him to be a king?
He had gone out onto the balcony overlooking the sea and every thought had flown when he saw the display of natural beauty before him. It hadn’t been very long before he had spotted Lu behind him. Talking with her had reminded him that Aslan hadn’t asked him to do it on his own. And she had reminded him that he was forgiven. If all that was true, who was he to question?
What great mercy, that He would not only give his life in my place, but to raise me up higher than I ever was before? He mused now, yawning hugely, Great is Your love, higher than the heavens; it reaches past the starry skies ***
He snorted softly, waxing poetic now, am I? It must be getting late.
Edmund leaned back against the balustrades, watching Lu’s head flop against his shoulder. Somewhere in between telling himself to go to bed and actually going there, he fell asleep. Head resting atop head, they leaned on each other as the stars spun ever onwards in their endless dance.
A/N:
* A constellation mentioned in Prince Caspian
**Thanks to BrokenKesteral for letting me use her characters! They come from her story Loyalty.
***Adapted from Psalm 108:4
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