The Pevensies - Tumblr Posts
I’ll be…it really was in the book.
Once a King or Queen of Narnia, Always a King or Queen…
Character Moodboards: “To the glittering eastern sea, I give you Queen Lucy the Valiant.”
“peter said get out of here!”
edmund stares at the sight of the witch moving through battle with ease. he knows what peter said, what peter is trying to do. he is relying on edmund to get their sisters to safety while he stays to fight a losing battle and oh, edmund understands. he does, and he wishes it were that easy. he wishes more than anything to find susan and lucy and to make sure they never see the battlefield. but here edmund is, frozen with terror, watching the witch get closer and closer to his stupidly heroic brother. he knows what she will do, what the reason behind her cruel smile is. and he can’t. he can’t let her do it again. not to peter, not while edmund yet draws breath.
steel sings, his knuckles white around the hilt of his sword. one last defiance, edmund thinks to himself grimly.
one final betrayal.
“peter’s not king yet.” and he runs.
If the Pevensies were Candles what would they Each Smell like?
- Kilgharrah (Merlin)
narnia movies but only the Peak Sibling Behaviour ™
peter pevensie is not boring! his narrative arc, especially in the books, is ridiculously painful and complex, and covers some very poignant ground on identity loss/mythologisation! not only did c.s. lewis tend to avoid addressing material that was too mature or dark for his readers (thus leaving us with only vague sentiments about how peter “felt tired all over” or didn’t look like himself after committing violent acts), but peter himself doesn’t tend to share his thoughts until he’s ready to act (see: his bullet-point list about why the ruins in pc must be cair paravel); so he can superficially appear to fade into the background. it’s not obvious until you look a little closer - but you’re doing a disservice to your narnia experience in writing him off as boring!
Something I’ve come to discover is that for some reason this scene between Peter and Aslan is incredibly soothing. I’ve had talks about it with several people and we all say the the same thing,but none of us can really pinpoint why.
So I’m curious to see if any of y’all feel the same way about this scene and if you have any theories or ideas as to why it’s so calming?
Does anyone else ever wonder what it'd be like if the Pevensies were able to go to and from Narnia as they pleased?
nice
Firelight and Starshine
(Edmund Pevensie x Reader Smut)
[ Requested by @duxpuella - I have a edmundxreader smut (while he was still a king, by his 21 birthday or something) where he falls for a fire witch? I have the scenario in mind, would probably be his birthday or something and the witch would sing along the fauns and make the fire "dance"(??)- (it's not exactly how you imagined, I think, but I hope it's okay!)]
Edmund hardly ventured to the revels in the woods. He knew they were quite fun and turned rowdy by the time night fell- Lucy was a constant guest at these revels, and she would regale her siblings with tales of what fun had happened- but he avoided them.
It wasn't because he was all work and play- he quite liked playing, in fact- but he knew that revels meant inebriation, and inebriation meant losing control of oneself.
And he did not ever intend to lose control of himself ever again.
Which made his current predicament all the worse.
His feelings- blech- were out of control.
And he couldn't stop them.
Worst of all- these feelings were regarding a witch.
She wasn't a bad witch, Susan had hastened to assure as she'd accompanied her into the ballroom- but Edmund had been wary.
She was from Galma- a witch of fire and the Duchess of Galma's primary advisor- and she was the island's chosen representative for that week's council.
She'd been supposed to stay only for a week, but she'd chosen to remain there for good, saying- with a not-so-subtle glance at the Just- that she belonged more in Narnia, amidst the magic and the fantasy, than she ever had in Galma.
She did not move into Cair Paravel- thank Aslan for small mercies, or Edmund would've clawed his hair out by the end of one week- but in a cottage near the Dancing Lawn.
But she visited, often- Susan and Lucy were quite taken with her- and made Ed's skin crawl and his blood thrum every time he caught sight of her.
The name is Y/N, she'd spoken with a shy smile as she'd come face-to-face with the younger King for the first time in the ballroom. She'd curtseyed, her (H/C) hair falling over her bare shoulders, and Edmund- transfixed- had taken her hand, and pressed his lips to it. Her smile had turned sultry, her eyes alight with flame and desire, and she'd walked away.
She had left his presence, but she hadn't left his thoughts.
And it was driving him mad. He couldn't concentrate. He couldn't sleep- and when he could sleep, he would dream of her, and would wake up hard and in agony. He hated her already- how could he possibly be so infatuated with someone- and that too a witch?
He would've forgotten it was his twenty-first birthday, too, had it not been for Lucy's cheery wish that morning.
“Your Majesty?” Someone was speaking.
He was startled out of his thoughts, and he looked beside him to see- her.
It was her.
Speak of the devil...
“Lady Y/N.” He bowed his head stiffly. He was out in the Gardens, resting on one of the benches after a particularly strenuous sparring matches with his brother- he'd won, of course, but Peter had laughed it off, saying he'd gone easy on him because it was his birthday.
He usually would've gone in to bathe, but he wanted to enjoy the cool breeze while he could- and he was certain that as soon as he entered the castle, Susan would descend upon him and demand that he decide on a 'theme' for his Ball, which was to be the next weekend. “I was not aware you were visiting.”
“I'm not- I was just on my way to Owlswood.” Her tone was cold, as she could sense the Just King's checked animosity. What had she ever done to him in the few months she had know him? Smiled? “I was looking for Queen Lucy- she likes to come with me to the revels-”
“Lucy and Susan are busy, at the moment.” He said- and at her questioning gaze, he continued, “They- they're planning my- my birthday Ball.”
“Oh! Is it your birthday?” Despite her coolness towards him, she managed to smile and take a seat next to him. “Happy Birthday, Your Majesty, and my best well-wishes for your future life.”
“Thank you, my Lady-”
“I'm not a Lady.” She shook her head- she hadn't had the heart to correct anyone else, but she didn't want be false in front of the young King. She snapped her fingers, and a flame bloomed at the tip of her index finger. “I'm just a lucky witch.”
“You're the Galmese Duchess's advisor-”
“Yes. I advise her. But even to her, like I am to everyone, I'm just a sinful creature, a beast- but with one saving grace- my intellect. I have no noble position, no eminent title.”
Sinful.
She was sinful.
But not in the way she thought- not to him.
“You're not-”
“Please, Your Majesty. I'm not stupid. I know why you look at me the way that you do-” The fire in her eyes had dimmed, as she looked to the ground, “I know you have an especial hate towards the White Witch, and that your wariness towards other witches is justified.”
“Yes.” He would not lie. She was bewitching, but he did not want to be bewitched. She enamoured him, but he wanted free of her beguiles. “You're quite right. I mistrust witches far more than the average person does.”
She nodded, accepting his words, but couldn't not say, “There's something more than just mistrust when you look at me.”
He swallowed, and ran a hand through his hair, “You're close with my sisters. I'm protective of them.”
“I wasn't aware that lust for me comes from being an overprotective brother.” Y/N said calmly, before getting to her feet. She could feel how hot his temperature was, despite the pleasant spring day- how it always was when she was near- and it made her ache to feel his warm body against hers. The fullness of his lips, the freckles of his cheeks- oh, she wondered if the rest of him was freckled as well- the leanness of his legs and shoulders- she had felt drunk just looking at him.
But his curt tone had sobered her, and before he could respond, she curtseyed again, saying, “I'll take your leave now. One mustn't be too late, even to revels.”
-
Edmund was in distress. Her words had alarmed him- did she know how much he wanted her, and how he longed to tear her clothes off and have her? Did she know she drove him crazy?
Most importantly- did she feel the same?
He was so lost in his thoughts that he did everything absently- he walked up to his room absently, narrowly avoiding his elder sister; he bathed absently, getting more soap on the floor than on him; and it wasn't until he'd tried to put boots on his head that his reverie broke.
He couldn't take it anymore. This confusion, this bitterness, this unwanted desire- he had to get rid of it. Somehow- anyhow- he had to get it out of his mind and out of his life.
The world had darkened, the sky now a purplish-black- and he heard the revel before he saw it- he could hear laughter and dancing hooves, and the crackling of flames, and his heart beat just a bit faster.
Fire meant Y/N.
He bade Phillip to wait, and he slipped into the clearing where the fauns and nymphs and humans- humans had migrated to Narnia from the other countries, after the coronation- danced and laughed and drank and kissed.
Hiding behind a tree- he wasn't sure how they would react to seeing the Just King there- he spied on the party, his eyes searching for the captivating witch. He could see dwarves, he could see dryads, he could see- was that Mr. Fox!?- but he couldn't see the one he craved.
His heart began to sink- but then he saw her, almost hidden by the bonfire.
She was standing to the right of it- she'd discarded the cloak she'd been wearing earlier, and now was clad in a plain, sleeveless gown, the same colour as cherries. She was singing and laughing, her hair open and cascading down her back, and she was twirling her fingers at the fire, which swayed in tune to the music of the faun-flutes.
She looked beautiful.
And Edmund knew he must leave. Whatever he'd been planning to do- he wouldn't yell at her just to vent his own sick urges. He was not the hateful boy he had been, and he put others' feelings before his own satisfaction.
He'd been about to turn and leave, when suddenly the flame rose higher, taller than the trees, and there was a collective yelp from the crowd.
He was about to jump and help however he could, when the fire calmed and so did the people.
She wasn't singing anymore, and her hands had dropped to her sides- she was staring right at him, her expression grim.
Oh, hells. He hadn't meant for her to see him- he'd been about to go away!
And now she was- fuck, she was walking towards him-
“Why are you here?” She asked, wrapping her arms around herself. She'd felt warm by the fire, but she felt warmer still in his presence. That never happened. She was warmer than normal beings- they usually cooled her down, not heated her up!
The Just King had an effect on her, that no one had ever had.
She didn't know she felt about it.
“I-” He swallowed. He'd always been smooth and silver-tongued in his reign- but now he felt horribly tongue-tied. Her gown was low-cut, and he had to work to not let his eyes drop to her chest. “I don't know.”
She snorted, “I doubt that there is anything in the world that you do not know, Your Maj-”
“Edmund!” He spoke without thinking- he wanted to hear her deep, lovely voice say her name. She was so close to him- there was hardly a sword's-length between them. “Please- call me Edmund.”
She looked at him, her eyes wide and irises blazing.
She licked her lips, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, and he hated her more than ever.
He hated her, because he didn't hate her.
“I- Edmund-”
He couldn't take it anymore- he couldn't hold himself back anymore- she was so dazzling and so scintillating, and her lips were parting, and- and he pulled her into his arms.
Their lips were an inch from each other, and it was unbearable to both that they weren't kissing already.
But Edmund wasn't about to kiss her without her consent.
“If you don't kiss me right now, Edmund Pevensie,” Her voice was low and trembling, “I will literally light you on fire.”
And there it was, her consent.
So he dipped his head low, and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss began tentative and chaste- Y/N was cautious, and Edmund was struggling- but as she pushed her tongue into his mouth, and he moaned, pushing her against a tree- whatever inhibition, whatever reluctance, whatever apprehension there had been disappeared.
“Y/N.” He murmured, as if her name was a prayer and a divine song- kissing her jaw, before slipping his hands inside her blouse and cupping her breast. He rubbed his fingers over the nipple, which hardened as he touched it, and he wanted to lick it. “Y/N.”
She could feel herself get hotter and wetter all at once, and it took everything she had in her to not rip his garments off and have her way with him.
Her fingers danced along the hem of his tunic- pesky clothes- and then she tugged the shirt up, wanting to- no, needing to feel more. She broke away from the kiss long enough to pull the tunic over his head and drop it onto the grassy floor, and running her hands over his smooth stomach. He had freckles over his shoulders, continuing over to his back, and a thin trail of hair began from his navel, disappearing into his breeches- a trail she yearned to follow.
Her toes curled as she met his lips in another kiss- he was soft and furious and caring and bold all at once, and she moaned his name again, the most beautiful name she'd ever heard, as he traced circles around her breast.
“Edmund.”
She was much too clothed, he couldn't help thinking as he brought his hands out to rest on her waist- he wanted to touch her, he wanted to kiss her all over, but everywhere his hands went, there was fabric-
“May I?” He murmured, ghosting his fingers over the bows at the back which held her gown together. One jerk, and the dress would go tumbling down...
“Don't want to be the only naked one?” She asked teasingly- he wasn't fully naked, yet, but she intended to change that soon- before nodding. Immediately, he tugged the bow, and the top loosened, falling from her torso, and he pulled her close to him, their chests pressing against each other, and he wrenched her gown down, so that it lay on the ground in a scarlet puddle.
She was firelight and starshine brought to life, he thought, captivated. The curve of her hips and breasts, the arch of her back- he gazed at her, drinking her in- from the scar at her collarbone to the thin piece of cloth covering her most intimate part.
He pushed her against the tree again, harder, their lips crashing against each other- she didn't even care about the bark of the tree digging into her back, as he slipped his hand into her knickers, rubbing her clit until her juices coated his fingers- she was panting, “Faster,” wound tight and driven to the edge, and- although neither of them were aware- the fire in the clearing rose ten feet into the air with every flick he gave her nub.
“Sto-stop.” She didn't want to come like this, she didn't want to unravel before him, she wanted to be inside him when she exploded in bliss.
He paused the movement of his fingers, and looked at her, alarmed.
Her eyes were fluttering, and she was gasping, and her chest rose and fell heavily, as though she was having trouble breathing.
“Are you alright?” Had he done something- wrong? Had he gone too fast, too soon? He'd been intoxicated off the sound of her breathy moans- and he'd forgotten who he was, that she was a witch, that they were in a bloody forest- all he knew was that she was, in his arms, her lips on his, and that was that mattered. “Should I stop-”
“No!” Her eyes glowed orange, and she fumbled with the belt of his breeches. If he stopped, if he pulled away, she would explode. “Just- need you-”
He caught at her hand, and lifted her chin up to look at him. Her mouth was trembling, fire flickering in her eyes, and he knew she could feel how hard he was, just as how he had felt how wet she was- but he was not going to fuck her against a tree, two feet from a crowded revel.
“Not here.”
She wanted to whimper.
He looked behind him- there was nothing but trees and darkness, but- aptly for someone decreed to the Woods- he knew that, not far from here, they would find a smaller clearing, bathed in moonshine, where they could make love and lie clasped together.
He bent and picked up her gown, and arranged it around her shoulders as a cloak, and Y/N managed to scoff, saying, “I won't catch cold. I'm a fire witch. I can keep myself warm even in the iciest of winters.”
“It's not to keep you safe from the cold.” He pointed out, as he took her hand and they began walking. “It's to keep me from losing control and ravishing you on the way.”
They strolled in silence, with only the hooting of the owls breaking through their soundless bubble.
Y/N couldn't help but notice that he had failed to put on his tunic and was trembling due to the coolness of the night. She made her palm grow hotter, not enough to scald him but enough to comfort him, and he squeezed her hand tighter, as he led her ahead.
Finally, they were there. A clearing, beringed by trees and covered in wildflowers, the size of a small council-room.
He had spent time in the first years after his coronation here- reading, or practicing swordplay on his own, or just sitting and trying to soothe his mind and soul amidst nature.
And now, as a twenty-one year old, he'd be sating his body's desires.
Seemed about right.
Y/N shrugged, the gown falling off her shoulders, and in another instant, they were in each other's embrace again, fumbling to take off her knickers and his belt, kissing and giggling as they tumbled onto the ground.
Edmund kissed down her neck and chest, sucking and licking- she gasped as she felt his teeth on her skin, and she knew when she would look in the mirror the next day, she'd be covered in love-bites-
Somehow, the thought made her quiver with rapture.
She rolled her hips against him as his mouth reached the top of her breasts, and he groaned, the friction making his erection harder than ever.
“Torture.” He murmured, as her fingertips flitted over his back and slipped inside his breeches, resting on his ass. “You, you witch, torture me.”
She raised her brow, and moved her hand to cup his cock- and he let out a shaky breath.
“You seem to like it, my King.” She whispered, stroking him- his dark eyes darkened even more, like a night sky without the moon and stars. “But I think you'd like it more if you were inside me.”
She hastened the speed of her stroking.
“If you were thrusting into me.”
His eyes closed in ecstasy.
“If we came undone as one.”
She pulled out her hand.
“Witch.” He hissed, as he knew he had fallen as deep for her as a child would into a well. He hooked a finger into her knickers, dragging them down, just before she pushed down his breeches with her feet- and he wanted to bury his face between her legs, tease her with his tongue, watch her lovely face as she orgasmed, but his cock was twitching, and she was biting her lip, her cheeks flushed and her hips bucking, and he knew there was time for that later.
He brought his head down and kissed her, just as he entered her, her slickness and tightness and moans making this the best birthday he'd ever had.
Y/N didn't have to tell him to go faster this time, which was probably good because she couldn't even think right then, much less say anything, as he started pumping in and out, and her walls clenched and throbbed around him, both of them not far from the sweetness and bliss of orgasmic ecstasy.
He dug his nails into her hips and she fisted her hands in his hair, their tongues dancing together- until both of their eyes closed and mouths opened in euphoria, clutching each other as they shuddered apart as one.
Witches, he mistrusted- he mused soon after, as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he kissed her clit- but Y/N, he rather liked.
-
The Pevensies Contact Names For Each Other
Peter
Susan - Peter
Edmund - The Magnificent Idiot (who "has it sorted")
Lucy - Peter :)
Susan
Peter - Su
Edmund - lady logically
Lucy - Susie
Edmund
Peter - littleedthesassy
Susan - Ed
Lucy - JustEddie
Lucy
Peter - lucythevaliant
Susan - Lu
Edmund - ValiantLu
Presents the Pevensie's Would Get Each Other For Their Birthdays
Peter
Susan - a gold watch
Edmund - a scrapbook full of pictures of himself with Peter in the background, with "The Real Magnificent King" on the front
Lucy - a portrait of him with a drawing of Rhindon in the top right-hand corner a book on ancient history
Susan
Peter - money
Edmund - accessories and tacky nail polish (on purpose - "it fits your character!")
Lucy - a bracelet she made herself and a blue leather notebook
Edmund
Peter - money and a whack upside the head (as "thanks" for his own present)
Susan - a black watch
Lucy - a portrait of him with his sword in the top-hand corner and a book about famous chess players
Lucy
Peter - money and chocolate (Edmund: "What! You could've at least gotten me some Turkish delight as well!")
Susan - earrings and a book on famous writers and artists
Edmund - a new set of paints and a sketchpad (Peter and Susan: "Yeah, you totally don't pick favourites!")
Edmund One-Shot (Modern) - How You Met
A/N
Omg I haven’t posted in sooo looooong. Well, here ya go.
E/C = Eye Colour
You walked down the corridor in your favourite worn out jeans, a red and black flannel shirt , and your signature brown ankle boots. It was the first day back at school, and you were carrying your books for the next period, your backpack haphazardly thrown on your right shoulder. You didn't really care what people thought of you; all you cared about was getting to the lesson before that damn bell. Since you were looking down, you didn't notice someone was in front of you until you found yourself on the floor.
"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" a male voice exclaimed. You looked up, your heart stopping for a millisecond. It was Edmund Pevensie. The most popular boy in your year, and arguably in the entire main school. You immediately felt uncomfortable. You didn't have much of an opinion on him, but you always preferred to stay in the shadows, and were perfectly happy to go unseen.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry, it was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going." You replied, collecting yourself. You thanked the stars that the corridor wasn't full. You looked down, not noticing Edmund quickly turn around and glare at his older brother, who held his hands up as if to say "what?" before turning around and walking away, trying to suppress his laughter. With a sigh, Edmund turned back round to you, extending his hand.
"I'm Edmund. Edmund Pevensie" He said.
"I know." a beat passed. "Sorry, that sounds weird, I just mean that I know your name because most people do, and I've seen you around, and, yeah I'm going to stop talking now." You got out in one breath, blushing in embarrassment as he you accepted his hand, and you were pulled from the floor.
"I'm Y/N." you said in a small voice, finally introducing yourself.
"I know." You looked up to see an impish grin on the young Pevensie's face. You stared at each other, and a second passed before you both chuckled, albeit awkwardly, as you bent down to collect your things.
As you checked over everything, you noticed you were missing a textbook. Then, it came into your line of eyesight, attached to Edmund's pale hand. You looked up, noticing he was observing you with a small smile on his face. Muttering a quiet thank you, you took the book, but your eyes widened seeing the watch on his wrist.
"Oh god! It's almost time for class!" you exclaimed. The ebony-haired boy looked at his watch, his eyes widening too as he saw the time.
"Shit!" he cursed, turning back to you. "Sorry for bumping into you Y/N, I'll...see you around?" he asked, his hazel eyes bright and...hopeful?
"Oh, um, yeah, I...I guess so." you replied, unsure of yourself.
"Great!" he exclaimed, excited, "Bye!" you close-enough-to-waved back until he turned around. Just then, the bell rang, and you took off down the corridor, just making it in time and almost forgetting about your encounter with the dark-haired Pevensie. Almost.
***
Edmund silently copied down what was on the board, his thoughts centred on the E/C girl for around the 1000th time. He'd liked her since Year 9, when she moved up a year from Year 8. He was also mentally cursing his older brother and his sixth-form free periods, which he seemed to think was a perfect time to visit his younger brother and push him into his year-long crush. He had to give himself some credit though – he handled the situation pretty well. The door opened and he looked up, and who should enter but Y/N. She turned to the teacher and explained that she had a music lesson. The teacher nodded.
"That's fine. Your seat is over there next to Edmund." Y/N's head snapped over to him before turning back to the teacher and nodding. Edmund's heart raced as she made her way over, before forcing a strange sounding "Hi" out of his mouth. She quietly greeted him back before opening her exercise book and started copying down the notes on the board.
***
"Okay everyone, your homework is a project with your desk partner. It's only small, and has no point other than to help you get to know each other. All the details will be on Google Classroom." the teacher said.
As you left the classroom, Edmund gave you a crumpled piece of paper.
"Here. Text me when you know when we can start working."
"O-okay." You replied gaining a small scrap of confidence, though still internally freaking out at the prospect of doing a 'bonding exercise' in the form of a history project. "Will do." you swallowed.
"See you then!" he said flashing his perfect, white teeth and turning around, jogging over to his siblings.
"See you," you replied quietly once he was out of earshot.
This might not be that bad. He seems nice – and smart, you thought.
I still hate people though, you firmly told yourself, before walking home.
Omg. Please someoneeeeeeeee there isn’t enough caspeter content in the world and I have to live with that pain every day and I love Merlin too istg I don’t care who you are just take pity on me and make this a reality
Okay, I am rewatching Merlin for the xth time and now I want a caspeter AU out of it
Like, here we have Caspian, a young warlock who's going to the kingdom of Narnia to live there with Doctor Cornelius, after his parents' death.
He is a young, curious man who wants to learn more about magic - even if it's forbidden by the current king, Frank Pevensie - and enters secretly into the royal library searching for a book about it when he is discovered by a blond boy who seems to have all the intention to report him. And, oh boy, he is GORGEOUS
"Who do you think you are, the High King?"
"No. I am his heir, Peter Pevensie"
No time for complete, nice coloured paintings, but I miss the Pevensies so much so here are some sketches.
And a very merry Christmas to you all 🎄🎄🎄 (yes, it's still Christmas)!
The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe
By C. S. Lewis
Okay but I just imagine the Pevensies going to their respective schools after Prince Caspian, and it doesn’t take the other kids long to notice something is…off about them. There’s something rough in the edges of Peter that the worst of the other boys keep getting cut on. Something powerful and confident. He was always likable, the shining golden child that the school trots out as a perfect example to incoming students, but now he is strong, he has emerged from the countryside a leader. He stands up to bullies, he always has, but he’s more eager to get into a fight these days than to talk them down. He’s a strong hand and quick word, but there’s power to back it up this time. There’s something in the way Susan tilts her head that makes her seem like a woman. The way she carries herself high and tall, the proud line of her shoulders as she walks down the hall that makes some lable her to high and mighty for her own good. The world doesn’t know what to do with queens, and that’s what Susan seems to be these days. There’s something dark lurking in Edmund that makes the other boys uneasy. Something wild and untamed in the now quiet boy. He no longer gets into fights, no longer bullies or mocks the others. In fact, he’s taken to stopping fights, to pushing back against his former friends when they try to take things to far. His roomate claims he wakes screaming from nightmares sometimes, and the stillness of his presence belies the intensity of his eyes. There’s something burning in Lucy that wasn’t before. All the teachers comment on it. There’s something loud and cheerful in the girl who used to be quiet, and she makes friends even faster than before, pulled in by her captivating orbit. She spins fantastic tales, and is scolded for having her head in the clouds. She tells her tales of magical kingdoms as if she were really there, and gets sad sometimes, as if she misses the people who were never there.
Everyone agrees that something happened to the Pevensie children in the country, but they never talk about it. The adults eventually just chalk it up to the war, and almost forget about the strange children that populatetd their classrooms, until they read about the tragedy in the paper. Then they remember. And they never forget.