Helena Pevensie (Caspian Love Story)

1. Saying Goodbye

Helena drew in a deep breath, allowing the deep black of her eye lashes to flutter down to rest elegantly on her pale cheeks briefly before she exhaled and opened her eyes. As if from far far away, the gentle trill of a piano started before being joined by the soft whistle of a violin, the hum of a viola, the honeyed voice of the cello, and finally the rumble of a bass. With a sharp intake of breath through the nose, Helena pushed up onto her toes, raising her arms in the air with the music. Two hands reached her hips as she lowered just enough for a triple pirouette, their hands at her hips helping her spin along.

Coming down from her toes, she began an elegant run, then a jump, the male dancer always keeping pace. Coming to a stop, she leaned her upper body perpendicular to her legs, her arms outstretched as she was held in place. It was with a controlled freedom she allowed her body to move with the flourish and sway of the music. Never once did she go off beat or lose control. With a final roar of the music, she came to a stop, breathing heavily and smiling.

She shook her head, shaking off the memories as she stepped onto the boat that would take her from France.

In Cambridge, Lucy was walking inside the Scrubb household flipping through a pile of letters. At last, she saw the beautiful writing of her darling older sister. "Edmund!" she cried. Said boy glanced over from the book he was reading, a question in his eye. "It's from Helena."

"What?" he said, standing quickly to see for himself. She had not written much since the war started as letters didn't come through as quickly. The two took the letter upstairs and opened it with eager fingers.

Dear Edmund and Lucy,
          I do hope you are both well. Mum and Dad wrote to tell me they had taken Susan to America. I'm sorry you two had to be left behind. But I have some news that may cheer you up. I'm coming back to England. I'll stop by your old Professor Kirk's home to see Peter but then I'm coming to Cambridge. Please inform Aunt Alberta. I love you both and I can't wait to see you.
                             Your loving sister,
                                                      Helena

After they had both finished reading, Edmund and Lucy looked up at each other, utter confusion in their eyes. "B-But why would she want to leave?" Lucy whispered. "I thought she loved it in Paris."

"So did I," Edmund admitted, frowning.

Helena was in her dressing room, slipping out of her dance clothes and changing into a simple red dress. After removing her makeup, she packed up her things so she could leave. She stuffed her worn pointe shoes, the extra pair she had brought with her, her leg warmers, and the flesh-colored leotard in her bag. After checking to make sure she had everything, Helena opened the door to the dressing room to find herself surprised by a pair of lips against hers. She started back before realizing who it was. Jacques cupped her cheek, kissing her more fully until she pulled back.

"You did amazing out there, Helena," he said in French.

"Thank you," she replied, smiling wildly.

"You want to go get some food?" he asked.

She hesitated, allowing him to grab her hand as they left before replying, "I would, but I think it's time I should get home. I'm exhausted."

"Of course, mon cherí," he replied, stopping by the door to kiss her forehead. Her heart sank slightly as he walked out, leaving her alone but she chose not to comment on it. Wrapping a scarf around her throat, she walked out, raising her hand and calling for a taxi.

Wringing her hands nervously, Helena raised her hand to knock on the small cottage she had been directed to. Her red lips were forced into firm line against her pale skin. Finally, she knocked. After a short hesitation, the door opened. "Hello," an old man said, looking at her curiously.

"Are you Professor Kirk?" she asked, her voice a peculiar mix of a British and French accent.

"Yes, but who-" he began before a voice behind him cried, "Lena!" A smile broke over her face as she rushed to her brother, wrapping her arms around him tightly.

"Lena," he cried again. He pulled away, keeping his arms partially wrapped around her. "But what, how...what are you doing here? When did you get back?"

"Yesterday," she explained. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Lena." Finally spotting the curiously look from his professor, Peter explained, "Professor, this is my sister, Helena Pevensie."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Kirk said.

"You as well," she replied with a bright smile. Turning back to her brother, she said, "I haven't come to stay. I'm to join Edmund and Lucy in Cambridge."

"But why are you back?" he asked. "I thought you loved being at the ballet." Instantly her throat tightened.

"Yes, well," she said, turning her green eyes away from him and tucking a strand of her black hair behind her ear. "I decided it was time to come home."

"I'll go and make us some tea," Professor Kirk suggested, sensing there were topics soon to be discussed that he should not be privy to.

Once he was gone, Peter asked, "Lena, don't lie to me. What happened?"

"Nothing for you to concern yourself with, Peter," she assured. He simply gave her a look. "Peter, it's nothing."

"All these years away and you're still a terrible liar," Peter remarked with a small chuckle.

"Am not," she protested, rolling her eyes and slipping off her gloves. Underneath, Peter saw bruising on her right knuckle, but she quickly covered it with the sleeve of her jacket. He frowned but chose not to remark upon it.