Six Plasters { Peter X OC }

A Grave Face and His Hat in His Hands

8th January 1949

Lilith wasn't much one to cry. She'd cried alot when she'd lost her Dad, she'd cried secretly about leaving to Exeter- but all were years ago. She hadn't even cried when Peter had proposed- she'd been too happy to register most of it.

But on the 8th January 1949, Lilith cried twice and would continue to cry on and off for months, even years, to come.

The first time was at 9am in a Doctor's office.

She'd been right about the feelings she'd begun to notice days ago. She was pregnant.

Lilith had swept home immediately and tried every number she knew in attempt to reach Peter. She tried the Professor's, Frank and Helen's- even Edmund's University Halls, but to no avail.

So, with little left to do, she called her Aunt before sitting and waiting.

She waited, and waited- the Grandfather clock alerted her of each hour that passed until at 8:55pm, there was a knock at the door.

~

The second time Lilith cried that day was at 9pm on her hallway floor.

It wasn't Peter at the door, it wasn't Ivy, either- it wasn't anyone she'd met before.

It was a Policeman with a grave face and his hat in his hands.

"Miss Moore?" He asked, shifting his weight as a something dropped in her chest.

"That's me." She confirmed with a tight smile, "Is everything okay?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss."

Moments later, once the Officer had only had chance to so much as tell of the train crash and mention the Pevensies, Lilith had fallen to her knees.

'I wouldn't miss it for the world'

Lilith and Peter's wedding day held no wedding. Instead, it held a joint funeral of five Pevensies, followed by Eustace's and the others'.

Susan stayed in England for almost 10 months after that.

At the beginning of October 1949, Susan moved back to America, the once Gentle Queen's honoury sister-in-law and baby niece going with her. Neither the women took anything but their purses with money and the clothes on their backs.

Lilith had managed to change her second name by then. She'd donated their house to the Church so that it may be used to house orphaned of the late war. Her white dress, however, was left folded but unworn in her suitcase above another in a wardrobe at back of the dusty attic, and would remain there for longer than she'd ever know.

Much like Susan, after the largest British Railway Crash of 1949, Lilith Pevensie was left with a wound that never seemed to want to heal.

For once, perhaps six plasters weren't enough.