The Heir of Aslan || Narnia

Chapter 2- Train Station Anxiety

When I get stepped on I get lost in the breeze
Fragile, I'm delicate so please don't break me
Just fake a smile and keep moving forward
'Cause I know it won't help looking back

𝙁𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙡𝙚 - 𝘾𝙤𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧 & 𝙂𝙖𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣

♕

James Pevensie was only sixteen-years-old but for as long as he could remember, he had hated crowds. The boy couldn't explain it, not really. Many called it irrational- but he simply couldn't help himself. There just seemed to be something about clusters of people bunched together which made him uneasy.

     Maybe it was influenced by all of the times he had queued with his mother for the grocers when he was small and had been shoved repeatedly. Or, perhaps, it was the schoolyard where he was ever so unpopular as a child. The root didn't matter as it still bothered James. That was how he knew it was a problem.

     In fact, it had become a great inconvenience during the boys short life so far. Especially so as the Pevensie children were stood upon a bustling London train station platform: the eldest could barely stomach the situation. James was sure that, within moments, his rationed breakfast would be upon the grey concrete floor. However, he managed, for his younger siblings if nothing else. James knew that he must be strong for them.

     Helen looked despairingly upon her five, young children. She had wanted to keep them close for as long as she could in their short time left together. As their mother, she knew how they were feeling. If not from raising them, then it was the simple expressions painted on their faces and their silent actions, waiting to be interpreted.

     James was shifting from foot to foot, swallowing deeply every so often as his blonde hair fell in front of his eyes. Edmund had noticed, and had clasped his eldest brothers hand in his own. Despite always moaning about not needed any help or comfort because he was grown just the same as the rest of his siblings, Edmund could be empathetic. However, it seemed impossible to tell who's benefit the grip was for- James, or himself. Susan had half an eye on her younger brother, holding his other hand, knowing that he would most likely cause a scene later on. The blue eyes boy let his gaze wander from child to child, watching them bustle in the station and fearing for the worst. And Lucy, dear little Lucy, was watching their poor mother as she tied a brown paper tag onto the front of the youngest girl's coat. Her dark brown eyes were filled with water, ready to fall.

     "You need to keep this on, darling. All right?" Smiled Helen sadly. "You warm enough?" When the bob-haired girl nodded, she moved to her next child-Edmund- and tied on his label. The eldest three had done their own, tying the brown string to the scratchy, war-rationed clothes. They were waiting to say their own sorrowful goodbyes.

     James had looked at his swiftly, but was confused by it. By no means was James Pevensie as stupid boy, actually, he was one of the cleverest in his school- but none of the numbers made the littlest of sense. He had a code number, and a party number (whatever they happened to be). Then, the rest was simple enough for even a three-year-old to understand.

Name: James Thomas Pevensie
Home Address: 15 Tarling Road
Date of Birth: 13-10-23
School: Hendon House

     "If Dad we're here, he wouldn't make us go." The dark haired boy stated, obviously upset by the situation.