You hadn’t expected it to feel so… strange.

Familiar, yet completely different.

Time had passed in Narnia—real time. Nearly ten years of it. Caspian had grown into a king shaped by responsibility, wars, and choices. And you, his sister, had grown too. Taller, steadier, more sure of yourself. You carried yourself with the quiet confidence of someone who belonged to this world, who had lived through its changes rather than stepped out of them.

For the Pevensies, though, it had been barely a year.

So when Lucy, Edmund, and that oddly irritating boy named Eustace appeared on the Dawn Treader, it felt like two timelines crashing into each other.

You remembered Edmund as a boy—sharp-tongued, proud, always trying to prove something. You had been younger then, closer to Lucy’s age, trailing after Caspian and watching the world with wide eyes. Back then, Edmund had teased you relentlessly. Tugged at your patience, mocked your seriousness, made comments just to see you snap.

You told everyone you didn’t like him.

He told everyone the same.

It had been a lie on both sides.

Now, standing on the deck of the ship as the sea stretched endlessly around you, you saw him again—and felt something shift.

Edmund was still Edmund. Broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, carrying that familiar mix of confidence and insecurity. But when his gaze landed on you, it lingered in a way it never had before. His jaw actually slackened for half a second before he caught himself.

You noticed.

Of course you did.

You were older now—older than him, technically. Time had been kinder and stranger to you both. You stood a little taller than Lucy, your presence more grounded. And Edmund… Edmund suddenly seemed very aware of you in a way that made his usual teasing falter.

The first hours were awkward.

He tried to fall back into old habits—dry remarks, half-smirks, the occasional muttered comment meant to get a rise out of you. But you didn’t bite. You only raised an eyebrow, smiled faintly, and moved on.

That threw him off more than any argument ever had.

Later that night, after the ship had quieted and Lucy had already curled up to sleep, you found yourself wandering the narrow corridors of the Dawn Treader. The wood creaked softly beneath your feet, lantern light swaying with the motion of the waves.

You stopped outside Edmund’s cabin.

You weren’t entirely sure why you knocked.

He opened the door almost immediately, like he’d been expecting it.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, voice lower than you remembered.

“Too many thoughts,” you replied honestly.

He stepped aside without comment, letting you in.

The cabin was small, simple. A single lamp burned low. You sat on the edge of the bench while he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you in that thoughtful way that made it hard to tell what he was thinking.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then he sighed. „It’s weird,” he said suddenly.