Warning!: Character Death!

Hey Guys! This is my first fanfiction, and I hope you enjoy! This is one of the many stories soon to come that are part of my What If? series. They're based on the Chronicles of Narnia,(though I may add more series later)about what would have happened had a certain part in the story been different. For example, this one. What if Lucy had drowned at the river, instead of making it to shore? How would it have changed the future? A lot of them are centered around a time when a character came close to dying. Enjoy! (And sorry if the format's weird. First story, still figuring out the best way to do it)

Disclaimer:Rights to the Narnian series goes to C.S. Lewis.


What if…Lucy had drowned at the river?

We followed the badgers through the trees, Susan and Lucy both trudging along. They looked a bit weary, having gotten no sleep since arriving in Narnia, and having to run from a witch, as well as hike through snow. Lucy had been such a trooper the whole time. She's so little, but she's kept up amazingly well. She's so determined go get to Aslan and save Mr. Tumnus. Susan glanced over at me as we walked along. "Peter, how did we manage to get into this mess? I read books on fantasy lands when were younger, and always wished they were real. That I could go there. And look at us now. In some fantasy land and I want nothing more than to find Edmund, go home, and pretend this never happened." I sighed.

"I know Susan, believe me I know. But we have gotten mixed up in it, and we can't do anything but continue on and hope for the best." She gave a small sigh too, and said nothing more.

"We're getting close dearies!" Mrs. Beaver called to us as we reached the river. It was frozen solid, and we could see for miles, right out to the eastern sea shore. What had once been a waterfall was now a solid wall of ice.

"Beautiful, isn't it? The river's been frozen solid for nearly a hundred years. Hardly anyone remembers when it was an actual river." Mrs. Beaver commented. Suddenly, we heard a cracking sound, and below us, we could chips of ice beginning to break off.

"Well, we're about to find out what it was like." I said. "Hurry! We've gotta get across!" We carefully began to make our way down to the bank, when we heard a bark off to our left. Wolves. "Move!" I ordered, grabbing Lucy's hand, and shoving her roughly down in front of me. The Beavers scampered ahead, with Susan doing her best to keep up behind me. She let out a little shriek as she slipped, and I caught her arm, while still holding onto Lucy.

"Susan, grab onto me." She nodded, and held onto my coat sleeve. The Beavers began to slip across the river, looking for spots safe enough to walk on. We had made it halfway when a wolf jumped down in front of me. I shoved Lucy behind me with one hand, while pulling out my sword with the other. The wolf inched closer. Beaver had gotten caught by one of the other wolves, and was yelling at me to stab the wolf with my sword. Susan was screaming at me to put it away. "Just because you have a sword, it doesn't mean you can fight with it!" She screamed.

"No Peter! Kill him! Narnia needs you to!" My mind was whirling at what to do. Kill the wolf, or put my sword away? And the river wasn't going to wait forever. Just as gallons and gallons of water broke through, I rammed my sword into the ice, breaking us off from the rest of it. As the water surged over us, we clung to the piece of ice, holding on desperately. For a moment, we were all underwater, Lucy in my arms, Susan holding onto my shoulders. We resurfaced my sword still in hand, and I struggled to pull Lucy back onto the ice as she began to slip off. Thinking back on it, I thought I had her. I thought she was in my arms. I was so sure…

The Beavers pushed the ice block towards the riverbank, and as it bumped up against the side, the Beavers scrambled ashore. Susan got off, slipping on the bank. And as I stood up, grabbing Lucy, a wave of horror washed over me. I stepped up onto the bank, Lucy's coat in my hand. Lucy herself had vanished. Susan had turned around to help Lucy and her eyes darted from the horror on my face, to the empty coat in my hand.

"Peter!" She shrieked, causing the Beavers to jump, and hurry back to us. "Lucy!" Susan screamed, my voice joining in with hers. But as our eyes scanned the water, all we could see were the waves rushing past us. The Beavers leapt into to the water, going underneath the surface to search. And with each passing minute, the dread Susan and I felt only grew worse. Eventually, Susan sat down, her face a mask of anger and pain. Then, I saw a sight I had never hoped to see.

The Beavers, pushing Lucy in front of them, up onto the bank. Her eyes were closed, her chest still. Susan leapt up with a cry, and scrambled down to her, me on her heels. Susan yanked Lucy's cordial out of her pocket, and shakily dropped a couple drops into Lucy's mouth. We waited, but Lucy didn't awaken. I knew one of us would have to check, and Susan looked too upset to do it. With a shaky hand, I pushed two fingers against Lucy's throat. Nothing. I checked her wrist. Nothing. I put my ear to her mouth, listening for any signs of breathing. Nothing. "She's-" I choked on the last word, not able to say it.

Susan started screaming, stumbling backwards, tear streaming. "This is all your fault! You were holding onto her! You were responsible for her!" She screamed. I felt as if my heart had been snapped in two. Lucy, my dear, dear sister, gone. Just like that. And in that instant, I hated Narnia more than anything I've ever hated before.

As Susan screamed at me, all I could so was scream right back. What happened was a huge fight breaking out between the two of us, the Beavers trying to calm us down. I knew in the back of my mind that this was all out of grief. That we'd forgive each other, and cry together later. But the anguish I felt at losing Lucy was more than I could bear, and all I could do was let it out through my yells. Eventually, Susan turned away, not able to look at me. I got the unhappy job of carrying Lucy, Susan too upset to even speak.

Carrying Lucy's body was the hardest thing I've ever done. I gently picked her up, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her eyes closed, she looked as if she might just be sleeping, but I knew she would never wake up. The only thing we could do was continue on to Aslan. The Beavers were silent, their eyes grave. Susan wouldn't even look at me. She just walked along, her face looking so desolate, so lost. She had stopped crying, but the look in her eyes scared me more than her tears. I wanted nothing more than to go to her, to comfort her, to take her in my arms. But I knew I was the last person on Earth who could give her comfort.

As we walked through the trees, memories of Lucy kept playing in my mind. Playing hide-and-seek, pushing her on the swings at the playground, tucking her in at night, reading her a story. That cheerful, bright eyed little girl I loved so much. And she was gone. I never would see her again. Never hear her laugh, her voice, see her smile. And all because of this cursed land I was in. We reached Aslan's Camp in about 30 minutes, though it felt like 30 years to me. I felt like I was in a dream. This couldn't be happening; Lucy couldn't be dead, any moment now I'd wake up, and see her peering down at me, telling me to hurry up and get out of bed. But I knew in the back of my mind that this was real.

As we walked through the camp, strange creatures, creatures I'd never seen, flocked around us. But as they saw Lucy's body, their eyes turned to worry, their expressions solemn. We walked up to a largely decorated tent, a flag flying above it. "We have come-" I broke off, my voice catching. Beaver spoke up, saying what I had meant to. "They have come to see his Majesty, Aslan." He said. Everyone looked towards the entrance of the tent, and bowed. The Beavers followed, and after a moment, Susan and I did as well, mine a little awkward with Lucy in my arms. A golden lion stepped out of the tent, his mane flowing, his coat shining. He came to stand in front of them.

"Welcome Beavers, you have done well. Welcome Peter, and Susan." Aslan's eyes landed on Lucy, and his expression turned grave. "What has happened?" Susan seemed unable to speak, and though I tried to say something, my voice caught again. "The wolves caught up to us Your Majesty. As we escaped, Lucy fell into the river. We could not save her in time."

"This complicates things much more." Aslan said. "And where is your other brother?"

"He-He met the White Witch, who convinced him she was on the good side."
"And that complicates things even more so. Peter, Susan, I see the grief and pain in your eyes at losing your sister, and I am deeply sorry for your loss. But Narnia still needs you. I need you to be strong." Susan glanced up, her eyes angry. "Strong? Needs us? Lucy is dead because we came here! I want to be sent home! I won't stay in this wretched place any longer! My sister is dead because of all of you!" She cried, tears beginning to stream again. Aslan looked gently at her.

"Susan, I know the grief and anger you feel. Not only at Narnia, but at your brother. But believe me when I say that your sister will be given justice. Her death will not be taken lightly. Susan, you've always been the strong one. The practical one. The one watching out for your siblings. And I need you to be strong now." Susan looked up at him, her eyes so pain-filled, I could hardly look at her. "I-I'll try Aslan."

Aslan nodded, and turned to me. "Peter, you've suffered a terrible loss, but just like Susan, I need you to be strong. If you want to get your brother back, you must focus on him. The time for grieving for your sister is not now. And I know you feel her death is your own fault, but you did your best. You saved Susan, and you did your best to save Lucy. As long as you did that, you are not to blame." I said nothing, just nodded.

The next few days passed in a blur. Susan still wouldn't speak to me. The first night, when we were taken to our tents, she said she didn't blame me for Lucy's death, that she just couldn't be around me. And I can't blame her. We're both trying to deal with our grief.

Edmund was rescued, and Aslan had long talk with him. I talked to him too, and he was devastated to hear of Lucy's death. He's said nothing since I told him, and it worries me. Aslan has insisted we train for battle, so Edmund and I practice sword fighting every day. Susan practices with her bow, though she does it half-heartedly. She cares nothing for practice, only of going home I can tell. She would have left now, if she wasn't worried about running into the Witch.

The night before the battle, Aslan slipped off, though none of us realized it till mid-morning on the next day. I finally knocked on Aslan's tent, only to find it empty. We didn't learn of his sacrifice till much later. I was forced to lead our army myself, and we made our way to the battlefield where the Witch's army was waiting. Susan, though she had said earlier she wouldn't fight, fought with her bow now. I believe she had wanted to get back at the Witch for taking Lucy's life. We won the battle, with Aslan coming later with reinforcements, and killing the Witch. The battle had been won, but we had lost many.

Aslan took Ed, Susan and I aside after the battle. "Lucy is gone, but you three can still take the throne. You must. Narnia still needs you." Edmund and I exchanged a glance. As much as I didn't want to stay, I knew Lucy would want me to. Susan however, had other plans. "No. I've stayed this long. I even fought in the battle. But I won't become queen. Lucy is dead because we came here, and I won't stay." Aslan looked at her, and nodded, much to my surprise.

"Susan…"I started. "No Peter. You won't change my mind." Susan wanted to leave immediately, but Aslan convinced her to stay for Lucy's funeral, which was to take place in 2 days. She stayed in her room the whole time, having meals being brought to her. Our coronation took place the next day, and I wish I could say it was a happy occasion, but it wasn't. Susan and Lucy should have been here, being crowned as well. Even the Narnians seemed a little withdrawn. There was a large feast, and celebration, but Susan leaving, and Lucy's death seemed to be weighing on everybody. Edmund and I left early, not able to bear staying any longer.

The day of Lucy's funeral was a cloudy, and bleak day. All of Narnia seemed to be mourning for my sister. We all dressed for the funeral, made our way outside to the place Lucy was to be buried. Aslan was there, as were the Beavers, Mr. Tumnus, who cried bitterly, and many Narnians. Ed didn't cry, just stood there, his hands jammed in his pockets. Susan cried, tears silently streaming. And I, well, I just stood there too, trying not to cry. As Lucy's body was placed into the hole, Susan sank to her knees, and Edmund went to her, trying to comfort her. Dirt was shoved onto the casket, a gravestone placed above it. It read, Lucy Pevensie. May she ever rest in peace.

Susan, unable to bear it anymore, was taken back to the castle. Edmund went with her. Mr. Tumnus cried a bit, then quietly left. The Beavers paid their respects, then slipped off. The rest of the Narnians left, as well, till it was just me and Aslan standing there. He looked at me with his big eyes, so solemn. Finally, he left to go the castle, leaving me with Lucy. I knelt by her grave, tears finally dripping down my cheeks.

"Oh Lu. How am I supposed to manage without you? I should have held on tighter. I shouldn't have lost my grip. I'm so sorry Lucy." I whispered. I gently laid a rose on top of her grave, and stood. "Goodbye Lu." I said, my voice cracking. I made my way back to the castle, my heart heavy with sadness. Susan left that afternoon. It was a short, stiff goodbye between us. She was taken back to entrance to our world, but Edmund and I didn't go with her. Susan had said one goodbye was enough. But she was still formal with me. Even though she said she didn't, I still felt like she blamed me for Lucy's death. I felt like I had lost two sisters, instead of one.

Edmund and I ruled for several years, and grew much closer through the grief we both felt. Lucy and Susan were on our minds often, and we missed them dearly. One day, many years later, Edmund and I stumbled across a lamp-post. But neither of us remembered what it was exactly. Lucy would have been the one who remembered, who would have found the door back to wardrobe. But as it was, we continued on, and went back to the castle. For many more years we ruled, till a strange illness the cordial juice didn't cure, took our lives.

Narnia mourned us, and a new king, as well as a king was chosen. As for Edmund and I, we found ourselves back in the room the wardrobe was in, young boys again, Susan on the ground beside us. We looked at each other, realizing what had happened. Our time in Narnia hadn't taken up any of the time in this world. It felt weird, and not right, being a boy again. But it was worth it, for who entered the room brought joy to our faces.

Lucy, a smile on her face. We threw ourselves forward, hugging her tightly. The Professor couldn't understand why we looked so happy that day. We talked about what had happened later, and Lucy finally understood why she had suddenly appeared in our world. But things were never the same between Susan and I. We had a long talk later, but we lost something the day Lucy died. Some connection between us that could never be recovered. We still loved each other, but the closeness we had always shared was gone. We never did visit Narnia again, and it seems everyone but me has forgotten it. To my siblings, Narnia is just a dream, a game we played when we were little, and a sad one at that. It crosses my mind from time to time, and part of me wonders what would have happened had I held on tighter to Lucy that ever fateful day…


Yeah, yeah, sad ending. I promise, not all my stories will be like that.

Now, I appreciate all reviews, but the ones I like most are the ones that really critque my work. I love hearing the good things you like, but I want to know the bad too so I can improve in the future! And, please, please, review! I'm always looking to get better at writing, and the only way I can is if I get advice from my readers.