Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: The Gentle's strength was not born of happenstance, but of choice...

A/N: A oneshot requested by Lady Hannah. Hope you like it. This is part of my A Light in the Darkness universe. Enjoy!

Gentle Strength

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

"Susan?"

Turning, Susan spied her little sister lurking just inside the doorway. "Lucy? What is it? Did you have a nightmare?" She wouldn't be surprised considering all the things they'd seen and witnessed (not the least of which was Aslan's death in the midst of all those horrible, horrible creatures) and they hadn't even been here a week yet.

Lucy shook her head, the curls from earlier fighting stubbornly to stay in their proper shape, "No, I- I just wanted to…"

Susan smiled as she held out her hand, "Just a bit lonely in there, right?"

Her sister nodded as she hurried across the room to slip her small hand into hers and then they both turned to look out over the balcony. Susan stared up at the moon and stars…this was their life now. How were they going to rule a country? They weren't old enough for this, logically they should have a regent or someone older, an adult, who was in charge of making all the decisions that Kings and Queens were required to make. Of course, logically they shouldn't be in a magical land filled with Talking Animals and Magical Creatures, having just fought a war, defeated a Witch (an actual evil Witch), and been crowned the new sovereigns of this land. What was logical was being rewritten, had already been rewritten, and would probably continue to be rewritten during the course of this new life.

Lucy's hand squeezing hers drew Susan's attention back to her little sister, "Isn't it wonderful, Susan? Oh, do you think maybe we could bring Mummy here? She'd have lots of beautiful dresses like she did before the war and she wouldn't have to work and we could take care of her so she wouldn't have to worry or be tired all the time."

Susan couldn't find the words at first as Lucy beamed up at her, excitement lighting her features even in the semi-darkness of the balcony. Squeezing Lucy's hand, Susan gentled her tone considerably as she spoke the reality that haunted her about their new life, "Lucy, I… I don't think Mum can come here. She'd have to go to the Professor's house and then through that old wardrobe to find us and…we already know that the wardrobe doesn't always lead anywhere. Mum…Mum doesn't have any reason to go to the Professor's house, Lucy. Remember, she was going to stay in Finchley and make sure everything was all right at home while we were safe in the country. She likely doesn't know that we're not in England anymore." At least, she hoped Mum didn't know they were gone…missing. She glanced over her shoulder at the golden crown on her dressing table, faintly gleaming in the candlelight. The moment its weight settled on her head, she had known in her heart that it was too late, had been too late since they chose to stay after Edmund's rescue, to try to return to England. Nevertheless, it seemed this was to be their new path, their new lives… She nudged Lucy, then wrapped her arm around her slender shoulders, as she asked, "Would you like to stay in my room tonight, Lucy?"

The slight droop in those little shoulders vanished as Lucy nodded, smiling hesitantly, "Oh yes, I'd like that, but just for tonight. I think Muriel and Deianeira and the others' feelings would be hurt if we didn't stay in our own rooms since they went through all the effort to fix them up for us."

Susan smiled as she helped Lucy slip out of the finely embroidered robe she had pulled on over her nightgown then the younger girl scrambled up on the bed, planting herself in the middle. These "rooms" were practically the size of the upper floor of their house in Finchley, maybe a bit bigger, and they were really suites. She blew out the candles. "I think you're right, Lu, but I don't think they'll mind if we share tonight. After all, this is our first night in Cair Paravel."

Slipping out of her own robe, Susan pulled back the impossibly soft comforter and sheets then climbed in next to Lucy. She couldn't help the little sigh of contentment that escaped as the soft mattress gave easily beneath her. It was so wonderfully soft.

Turning on her side, she started when she realized two large tears were slipping down Lucy's cheeks. Immediately gathering Lucy into her arms, Susan stroked Lucy's hair, "What is it, Lucy?"

Lucy sniffled, "I miss Mummy."

Susan's hand faltered in the midst of Lucy's half-crushed curls for a moment before she resumed petting her hair. She willed her voice to be calm and soothing just like Mum's had been when she comforted them all over the years, "Oh Lucy, it will be all right, you'll see. I miss her too, but we're together just like she wanted us to be and we will stay together. You know if Mum knew what we were doing, if she could have seen us today, she would be so proud of you and Edmund and Peter-"

"And you, Susan."

Susan didn't respond right away, but at least Lucy's tears had ceased. Resting her chin on Lucy's head, she noticed the bedroom door crack open just enough for her to see a Leopard peeking in before the door was closed again. It might have been Captain Sherket, but she couldn't claim to be able to easily identify many of the Narnians (General Oreius, Alithia, the Beavers, and Mr. Tumnus being the exceptions) at the moment…that would come with time. Someone must have realized Lucy wasn't in her room. Petting Lucy's hair again, she started humming the lullaby Mum had always sung when one of them had a bad dream.

Sinking in the downy mattress and pillows while Lucy slept with her head resting on Susan's shoulder, Susan made a promise. They didn't have their Mum anymore, separated by an entire world, and they would probably never see her again. So, Susan would step up to be the mother her siblings needed, especially Edmund and little Lucy. Peter had already been trying to fill their father's shoes (not that it had worked very smoothly back in England, especially with Edmund) even to her, and now it was time she helped him too. Aslan had named her "the Gentle," her mother, Helen Pevensie had always been gentle yet strong, and Susan would model her behavior after that example. She still didn't much like conflict (though she knew it necessary at times), but she could be the peacemaker, the comforter, the mother, the Gentle, not only for her little family but also for her subjects. There was a strength in gentleness, the quieter strength of her mother, and she would learn to reflect that gentle strength.

Just before sleep claimed her, Susan glanced at the closed balcony doors. She'd have to remember to make Peter and Edmund promise not to play on the balconies, especially the railings. Otherwise, who knew what sort of trouble or even life-threatening injuries they could acquire if they were reckless and clambered all over them. It was bad enough whenever they fell out of trees.

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

A/N: Please Read and Review!