Confessions of the Heart

It was a crisp autumn evening, in the country of Narnia. The leaves on the trees had just transformed from green and yellow to crimson and gold. All throughout the woods, the pitter-patter of footsteps could be heard of the critters who were now gathering supplies for the winter months ahead. The sun cast a bright glow over the Eastern Sea, which the castle Cair Paravel overlooked. It was here on the shore that Queen Susan stood, gazing out. Tipping her chin up slightly, she studied each wave as it crashed over the smooth sand.

She wore a deep purple gown, with small yellow flowers rimming the sleeves and the hem, matching her crown that sat upon her head. Her long, raven hair whipped gently in the wind. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear delicately, Susan bit her lip to keep a tear from slipping down her pale cheek.

She had replayed the same questions in her mind over and over since her and her siblings had returned yesterday from the battle near Tashbaan. Why didn't she stop it? Why couldn't she have stepped in quicker and helped Peter? Why was she always such a coward on the battlefield?

Susan swallowed thickly as she thought of her older brother who currently lay helpless in his bed up in the Cair. Unwelcome scenes of what happened yesterday flashed before her mind once more. She could hear his voice calling out to her from across the battlefield.

"Susan! Hurry!" Peter kicked another soldier out of the way, impaling him as he did so. He knew he was sorely outnumbered. He knew he wouldn't make it alone. That was why he brought all four of them to the battle this time.

Ten men circled around the High King, and Susan knew that she had to step in. She shouldn't have left his side. Edmund was busy fighting several others, and another man was holding Lucy by the hair as she kicked and screamed. Breathing rapidly, Susan knew that there was no way she could rescue Peter from all of them now. Not by herself. If she had just listened to her brother's orders and stayed by Peter, she might have a chance.

But she hadnt. She had been too afraid.

Maybe she could still shoot down some of them. Pulling an arrow into her bow, Susan tried hard to see clearly where to aim. She almost had her target engaged, if she could just keep her concentration. In one, horrid second however, Susan felt the back of her head hit hard, and she collapsed to the ground, fighting the darkness that threatened to overtake her vision. Sharp pain throbbed through her head, and she grasped loosely onto her bow. The faded image of Peter being stabbed and falling played before her eyes before she had lost consciousness.

Susan dug her toes into the sand, still blinking back hot, angry tears. Why couldn't she have listened? A list of if-onlys kept replaying over and over through her mind. If only she was braver, stronger,more like her siblings. If only she had been there a moment before, Peter could have been saved. If only…

Susan heard soft footsteps approaching behind her, whom she immediately recognized as Edmund's. The young king came and stood beside his sister, also looking out over the sea. After a long, silent minute, Susan spoke.

"How…how is he?"

Edmund ran his hand through his wavy hair, which had grown much longer in the four years that they had been in Narnia. He was no longer the timid boy he had been when they began their reign, but rather a strong and just king both on the battlefield and off. He wore a silver and blue tunic, but Susan noticed he had dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep and worry. Letting out a sigh, he replied, "No change. Lucy is with him now. Mrs. Beaver offered to come this evening with some hot soup, although I told her he hasn't eaten anything yet."

"Oh." Susan said simply.

Edmund immediately picked up on his sister's mood. "Alright Su. What is it? I know Peter's… looking pretty bad right now, but something else is going on."

Susan sighed, and walked forward a few steps closer to the water. "I just feel as though…this is all my fault, Edmund. If I had only listened to the instructions that Peter gave us before the battle, none of this would have happened. I would have been there with him, and…." She trailed off, choking on her words.

Edmund took her hand, looking her in the eyes. He stood almost a little taller than her now. He spoke softly, "Hey, Susan you mustn't feel that way. None of what happened was your fault. Peter was outnumbered, and there was nothing you, or anyone else could have done to save him."

Susan didn't look at him. "I don't know, Ed." She paused. "Do you think…do you think he'll make it?"

Edmund put on a facade of courage for Susan's sake, but he couldn't hide the fear in his eyes. "Peter? Pshh, of course. He's tougher than a rock. He's gone through much worse than…than…"

"Than a potentially fatal wound, three arrows in the shoulder, and a knife in the back?" She kicked the ground in frustration. Edmund looked away. Susan continued, "Did you try more of Lucy's cordial?"

"We tried. But it only seemed to provide temporary relief. And you know Peter's law about it only being used for life-threatening emergencies."

Susan coughed. "Of course it would never occur to Peter that his condition might just be a life-threatening emergency. He's almost too selfless."

A small smile played on Edmund's lips. "But that's what makes him Peter. Although it can be annoying at times." He attempted to lighten up the mood, however Susan was still tense. They both knew the severity of the wounds Peter had. It would be a miracle if he did indeed make it through another day. However neither one of them was willing to admit it.

"Edmund, do you think…I could see him?"

"Of course you can go in there Su. But he hasn't woken up yet. Not even for Lucy."

She nodded. "I just want to be with him. Maybe I can undo some of the pain I caused him."

"Susan…"

"Please, Ed." Her eyes silently begged him to not try and justify what happened again. She blamed herself, and she would until she knew he would be alright.

"Alright. Come on," Edmund gave her hand a gentle squeeze and headed up the long staircase that would lead to the castle.

Peter's room was at the very top of the structure, and Edmund and Susan were practically out of breath by the time they arrived at his door. Susan paused for a moment before opening it, not sure that she wanted to see what lay ahead of her. Edmund pushed the door open, regardless.

Susan was taken aback a bit by the scene that was set before her. In the center of the room, Peter lay on his bed, a deathly white color, eyes closed. Lucy sat beside him, tenderly stroking his blonde hair and humming softly, as if trying to comfort him. Mrs. Beaver stood in a corner, ladling out some stew that she had made.

Peter didn't flinch, and if Susan didn't know better, she wouldn't have thought he was alive. The only sound that could be heard in the room was Lucy's soft humming and Mrs. Beaver's wooden spoon hitting the edge of the pot as she stirred it. Susan took several steps closer, almost afraid of what she might see.

Stopping at the edge of the bed, Susan stifled a gasp at the sight of her brother. From a distance, he looked bad, but up close…

Susan choked on her tears as she saw the marks that the battle had left on him. His arm was in a sling, resting on top of his body, covering where the arrows had been. His midriff was wrapped snuggly with white strips of cloth, but a stain of red still seeped through on the side. Peter was even whiter up close, and his chest weakly heaved up and down in a shaky rhythmic pattern. He had several smaller scars on his face and arms as well.

Susan put her hand to her mouth as she took this all in. It was harder than she had imagined to see Peter, noble and magnificent Peter, laying helpless on a cot, struggling to hold onto life.

Lucy turned to her brother and sister as they walked in. A weary frown rested on her face. "He hasn't woken up yet," She said, continuing to stroke Peter's forehead.

Susan was reminded in that moment just how much braver Lucy was than she. Her little sister had stayed with Peter all day and night, refusing to leave his side, even to get some rest for herself. And here Susan was, barley able to look at his bruises and scars without cringing. Shame burned in her face at how selfish she could be without realizing it.

"Lucy, I can take over. You're exhausted, and you need to get some sleep."

Lucy frowned for a second before yawning. "Are you sure Susan? I really shouldn't."

Edmund interjected. "Susan's right Lu."

"But Edmund-"

Mrs. Beaver interrupted. "Listen to your brother, Deary. If you don't get your rest well have two sick people on our hands."

"Well…alright." Lucy hesitantly agreed as she rose and exited. Edmund followed her.

"If anything happens, come and get me immediately."

Nodding, Susan knelt beside Peter's bed. Clasping his good hand in her own, she held it tightly, and attempted to speak words of assurance.

"It's going to be alright, Peter. You're going to get better. You always have. The kingdom needs you, and Aslan would never let…"

Susan couldn't finish as she bowed her head and let her tears finally fall freely into the mattress. Who was she fooling? Her body shaking with sobs, Susan gazed at her brother's face through blurry eyes. "It was all my fault, Peter…all my fault…" She gasped for air, struggling with her words. "I should have listened to you…should have protected you…should have been brave…should have…" She couldn't finish as she continued to cry. For once, she didn't care how she looked or acted. She didn't care about being High Queen Susan, the respected and mature one who always knew what was right. In this moment all she cared about was her family, and her brother's life that lay compromised before her. She would have given up her throne, and all of Narnia in a heartbeat if it meant that he would live.

"I'm so sorry Peter…I'm sorry for all the times I doubted you. That I thought I knew what was best when I never did…I'm sorry for blaming you…" She held his hand tighter, her palm sweating. "Please don't leave me." She whispered. "By Aslan, please don't die…"

Susan sank to the floor in exhaustion, still not letting go of Peter's hand as she closed her eyes.

After a few minutes, soft, feeble words broke the silence in the room. "Su…it's not your fault…" Peter rasped. Susan sat up, in wide-eyed disbelief.

"Peter?"

He coughed, cringing at the pain in his side in doing so. "I said, it's not your fault.."

Susan shook her head. "I have to get Edmund."

She began to rise, but Peter lightly put his hand on her arm to stop her. "No, wait." He coughed again. "Susan, please don't blame yourself for something that could not have been prevented." He said softly.

"Peter, all that matters is that you'll be ok now. You needn't concern yourself about what I did."

Peter shook his head slightly. "No, Su. It does matter. You need to understand what really happened. It was my fault."

Raising her brow, Susan studied him as he went on.

"I knew that it would be a losing battle from the beginning. I knew.." He cleared his throat. "That we were sorely outnumbered. But me and my bloody pride got in the way, yet again, and I didn't turn down the battle, even when it put the lives of my family and kingdom at risk." He had a pained expression on his face as he continued. "I didn't want the other countries to view me as weak, so I accepted. Now here I am, paying the price for my inexcusable actions. So you see…" He cringed again as he shifted to face her. "I am the one to blame."

Susan looked at him, tears in her eyes. He shouldn't have to feel like this. "Peter…don't blame yourself either. We all make mistakes."

Peter looked away. "Still, I knew better. I am just grateful that none of you received serious injuries as a result of my stupidity."

Susan grinned sadly and stroked his forehead. "I really ought to call Edmund and Lucy. Ed made me promise to get him the moment you awoke."

Peter smiled wearily. "Good old mother hen, Ed."

Susan rose. At that moment, Lucy burst through the door. "Peter! You're awake!" She ran to him. Susan guessed that she had never left the door.

Edmund soon followed, joining his siblings by Peter's bedside. "Peter! You old fool. You had the girls nearly worried sick."

Lucy shot him a glance with raised eyebrows. Peter smiled at his youngest sister's face. He knew Ed had been probably even more worried than the girls, although he would never show it.

"Well, how would you all like to try some of my famous fish stew?" Mrs. Beaver suggested, hobbling over to join the party.

Edmund answered, "Of course. I'll send word that we'll all be eating dinner up here this evening."

Lucy skipped to the doorway after him. "I'll let Mr. Tumnus know about Peter. He was was asking."

"Oh my! Well, I'll need to gather some more dishes for you all!" Mrs. Beaver said as she scurried out.

Only Susan was left.

Peter looked at her with weary eyes. "Susan?"

She turned around. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not blaming me. For still caring even though I deserved every inch of what I got. For believing in me…"

Susan smiled playfully, shaking her head.

"What?"

"Ed's right Peter. You have a tendency to be too noble. You cant take responsibility for everything that goes wrong."

"But-"

"Hush. I'll be back. You just think about that."

As she left, Peter did think. He was was grateful to have a sister who cared so much.