Disclaimer: I own nothing in this marvelous universe; it all belongs to C.S. Lewis and Walden Media.
Reviewers: Thank you so much—I'm thrilled that this story was so well-received!
Author's Note: Between getting frustrated with myself and staring at the computer screen for several hours straight, I finally was able to get this chapter out (and quite proud of it, I am :winks:). You may notice that there's at least as much emphasis on the character of Peter as there is on Edmund and Lucy—somehow, no matter how hard I try, I can never seem not to include him :sheepish grin:. Susan and Trumpkin may appear less frequently in this story, while Caspian will start to be developed a little more, but then again…that may just be speculation. I have a general idea of the direction I want to go in, so we'll see how it turns out—I hope you enjoy every bit of this!
Rating: T
Summary: What if Lucy had decided to go across the gorge when she saw Aslan, regardless of whether her siblings came with her? At least she won't be alone…and it is not just Aslan who joins her…(AU, Book and Moviebased)
"Speech"
/Personal Thoughts/
Memories/Quotes/Excerpts (Italics)
(2) Prince Caspian pg. 262 in The Complete Chronicles of Narnia (Hardcover; Illustrated)
Keeping the Faith
By Sentimental Star
Chapter Two: The Seeking of Paths
Looking down, she could see a steep and narrow path going slantwise down into the gorge between rocks, and Aslan descending it. He turned and looked at her with his happy eyes. Lucy clapped her hands and began to scramble down after him. From behind her she heard the voices of the others shouting, "Hi! Lucy! Look out for goodness' sake. You're right on the edge of the gorge. Come back--" and then, a moment later, Edmund's voice saying, "No, she's right. There is a way down." (2)
Lucy had never really played favorites before. Not among her siblings, and certainly not among their subjects. It was something that all four of the monarchs had been cautious of. They knew that to play favorites as kings and queens could lead to war, and none of them wanted that.
But now, as she watched him clear the ground in their immediate area, she couldn't help feeling that Edmund really was the best of her siblings at this moment. Not that she knew exactly what he had in mind, but she had long ago learned to trust that he knew what he was doing.
"What are you up to, Ed?" she asked softly, peering forward curiously from where she sat on a fallen log.
He quirked her a sort of half-smile. "Leaving a marker—for Peter."
Lucy glanced up sharply at this, hardly daring to hope. "Do you really think they'll come back here?"
Edmund grimaced and pushed away some dead leaves, picking up several stones to set aside for later use. "I don't know, Lu," he admitted softly. "But I think, once Peter discovers we've gone, he'll come tearing back here, if only to tell us how completely stupid we're being." His smile grew the tiniest fraction. "Of course, we intend to be well away from here by the time that happens." He even managed to add in a bit of wry humor, "Hopefully, he'll even be angry enough to follow the markers I leave."
"Oh, Ed…" she whispered painfully, watching as he went back to the task at hand.
Peter was always angry now, Lucy reflected sadly, as Edmund finished clearing the ground and began to set out the stones. Angry at himself, angry at England, angry at Aslan…He was even angry at his siblings, and Edmund, who had always been the closest to him, received the brunt of it.
In Narnia, Edmund would let Peter have his fit of temper before dragging him out onto the practice fields (bodily if he had to) and there, would proceed to soundly trounce him in a sparring match.
Inevitably, when they returned to the castle, Peter was much calmer and level-headed, while Edmund, though undoubtedly very sore and bruised, remained well-pleased with his success—and not just in the sparring match, either.
But in England, where her brothers had no such outlet, Lucy had been forced to watch as her oldest brother grew gradually more and more moody, picking fights for what seemed to be the slightest infraction.
And Edmund, forever loyal to his brother and his king, rushed to Peter's aid without hesitation. Regardless of who had started the fight in the first place.
Inevitably, he ended up the worst beaten of the pair of them—not because he was an inadequate fighter, but because he was so much smaller than Peter.
Lucy could never be sure if the anger which followed those brawls (usually directed at Edmund) was more a result of Peter's frustration…or because Edmund had been hurt trying to protect him.
What Peter did not seem to understand was that his apparent ingratitude and indifference hurt Edmund far worse than any scrape or bruise ever could.
In England when Peter got angry, Edmund simply accepted the tirade directed at him quietly and with far more grace than anyone she had ever seen.
No matter how punishing the words, no matter how cruel the actions, the younger of her two brothers endured them all without complaint.
The first few times, when Peter's anger had run its course and he registered just how beastly he was being to Edmund, he ended up sobbing nearly incoherently into their younger brother's chest, words of apology tumbling over one another, mixing and garbling with his tears.
Edmund, of course, had forgiven him with little thought.
But as the fights became more frequent, and Peter became more moody, such heartbreaking scenes grew to be few and far between.
Edmund still forgave him every time.
Lucy did not know if she were capable of the same. Her oldest brother's rejection of her word hurt far more than she cared to admit: when they had lived in Narnia that first time, he (as well as Susan and Edmund) had come to understand that Lucy knew things (at least about Aslan) that they never could; they had learned to trust her when she said something was out of the ordinary and, as a result, follow her lead with little question.
Peter and Susan had all but forgotten that when they returned to England. She was back to being the littlest, the youngest, someone to coddle and not let stray far; someone who could not understand grown-up things and would not know what was best for either herself or others.
It was cloying, and irritating, and she hated it…or, at least, came as close to hating it as she had ever come to hating something.
More than even that, however, she hated what Peter's attitude change had done to Edmund.
In Narnia, wisdom and time (as well as a few sound knocks from Peter) had ensured that Edmund treated himself with the same fairness and consideration as he treated everyone else. He remained his own worst judge, but at least he knew he was worthy of his siblings' love and his subjects' regard.
Back in England, without the steady support of Peter and their friendship, and with the all too vivid reminders of the boy he used to be before Narnia, Edmund had once again started questioning his worth. Even as he stayed the fair, considerate, and noble brother she knew.
It therefore hurt him terribly when he had to confront a not-quite-buried demon from his horrible past.
Too angry, too frustrated, too wrapped up in his own pain and sorrow, Peter never noticed.
And it was for that Lucy could not forgive him.
It would not be until several days later that she would remember Edmund was not the only one who judged himself too harshly.
Peter did, too.
IOIOIOIOIOI
"Well, that's all set," Edmund remarked with a heavy sigh, sitting back on his heels about ten minutes later and clapping his hands together to rid them of the dirt and debris.
Eagerly, Lucy leaned forward to inspect his work. A neat circle of four stones—flat, relatively the same size and width—surrounded an arrow made of three sticks lashed together with a bit of long, slender cord he must have been carrying in the pouch on his belt.
The arrow pointed directly at the gorge. More specifically, it pointed at a Lucy-sized hole that had been made when the ground had given out under her feet and deposited her on a narrow, slantwise path that had been hidden by the overhanging earth.
It was this path that would take them across the gorge to Aslan and, hopefully, Aslan would take them to Prince Caspian.
Standing, Edmund offered her a hand up off the fallen log. With a grin, she took it and allowed herself to be brushed off once she was on her feet. Satisfied that his younger sister was presentable, he nodded to her with a small smile, "Ready?"
In response, Lucy leaned up to kiss his cheek, then pulled back (grinning at his light blush as she did so) and led the way towards the gorge.
When they reached it, Lucy went first, lowering herself carefully onto the path below while Edmund braced her from above. Once her feet were safely on the ground, she shot another brilliant grin up at him as he gently released her hands, and then quickly scampered out of the way as he shimmied down himself in a shower of earth.
They paused only for Edmund to adjust the bag he carried over his shoulder, and check that his sword and shield were still secure, before continuing along the path.
As they walked among the rocks, Lucy remained in front while Edmund followed, ready to catch her at a moment's notice if she slipped.
It warmed something deep inside her to realize this, and touched her all the more because she understood that while he may still see her as his little sister, he also saw her as the queen she used to be. Edmund seemed to know that although she may need his help from time to time, she was equally capable of taking care of herself, and he treated her as such.
"You really are the best of us, Ed," she informed him quietly some time later, when they crossed the River Rush at a much calmer point in its course and she slipped on one of the rocks they were using as stepping stones. Immediately, her brother's hands were on her waist, steadying her and helping her keep her balance as they crossed the remaining stones to the other side.
"Hardly, Lu," he murmured.
Behind them they had left yet another marker for Peter, at the juncture between two paths—one that led further along that side of the gorge, and the other which they had followed across the stream.
Now, as Lucy stepped onto the opposite bank, she resolutely turned to face Edmund, frowning when she noticed the not-quite-hidden shadows in his dark brown eyes. "I wish you would see it, too," she remarked softly.
But Edmund, forever humble, merely shook his head with a gentle smile and gestured for her to continue leading the way.
With a pout that made her brother laugh and ruffle her hair, Lucy bit back a reluctant grin and turned away, resuming their interrupted walk. To herself, however, she vowed silently, /No more of this, Ed. Somehow, some way, I'll make you understand again that you are worth every breath you take./
She knew she would need help for that particular task, but as they scrambled along the pebbled shore, and farther up the gorge, she thought she heard a Lion's distant roar, and knew that at least one source of help was very near.
IOIOIOIOIOI
An hour later, there was a sudden scrabbling of rocks behind her as Edmund abruptly lost his footing.
Whipping around (they were headed up another steep and zigzagging path at this point), Lucy grabbed his arm and struggled to keep him balanced, paling when she glanced over the side and saw how very long a drop it was to the rapids below.
Five huffing and teetering and heart-stopping minutes later, Edmund was safely back on the path with her: slightly shaky, slightly white, but mostly unharmed and very grateful to Lucy. Tottering a bit, he unsteadily made his way over to the cliff face and sat down with his back against the rock, hugging his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms.
Lucy, a little light-headed herself, immediately sat down next to him.
For several long seconds neither sibling spoke, until Edmund gave a half-strangled laugh and murmured, "Well…this has certainly turned out to be quite the adventure."
Lucy bit her lip, and tried not to cry. "Do you regret it, Ed?"
Instantly, her brother's pale face was snapping up from his arms as he whirled to look at her. Gently, he grasped her chin and tilted her face up, staring sternly down into her surprised eyes. "Never, Lu," he replied vehemently. "Never could I regret following you anywhere. And that includes out of wardrobes."
Lucy's eyes went wide.
Her youngest brother may be a harsh judge when it came to himself, but he was extremely adept at reading others, especially his siblings. Therefore, it should have come as no surprise to Lucy that he was able to see what Susan and Peter could not.
More than being irritated by her oldest siblings' tendency to smother her, and more, even, than hating what Peter had done to Edmund, Lucy, in her heart of hearts, blamed herself for the way things were now.
She had been the one to discover the lamppost again. She had been the first to go rushing through the trees and into the land of Spare Oom, leaving Narnia behind her. Always eager to explore and happy to be on a new adventure, she had led her siblings away from their home of fifteen years and tumbled them back into the world where they were no longer Kings and Queens, but wartime evacuees.
Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes as she looked at Edmund. "Why not?"
Her brother's face softened, and he rubbed away a few treacherous drops that spilled down her cheeks with the edge of his sleeve. "Because I followed you into the wardrobe and found Narnia. And in Narnia, I found myself again."
Abruptly, he pulled both of them to their feet. Engulfing her in a tight hug that almost took her breath away and made her squeak, he whispered into her hair, "Thank you so, so much, Lu."
And she knew he was thanking her for more than saving him from a nasty fall.
After a few minutes, Edmund inhaled deeply and set her back on her feet. "Shall we go on?" he asked with a smile.
Lucy, although horribly afraid she might start to cry again, returned it with a tremulous grin of her own, and took his hand.
Still slightly shaken by Edmund's close call, neither felt it necessary to let go, even if it did make climbing the path that much harder.
It was a long and tedious journey, and one or both of them almost slipped any number of times, but always, footing was regained and the path continued to be followed.
The slope was steep, for the precipices on this side of the gorge were a great deal higher than the ones they had left behind. Somehow, though, they made it, and soon, had clambered up and over the final lip of the gorge.
As they tumbled together into the sweet-smelling grass on the other side, Edmund and Lucy were greeted by the most wonderful sight either of them had ever seen.
Golden and glowing, beating his paw on the ground and shaking his mane, Aslan threw back his head when he saw them and let out an all-resounding roar.
"Aslan!" Lucy exclaimed happily, her entire face lighting up with joy. "Dear Aslan, at last!"
Releasing Edmund's hand, she scrambled over to the Lion as quickly as her legs could carry her. As soon as she reached him, Lucy threw herself around his neck, reaching her arms as far as they would go, and buried her face in his wonderfully silky mane.
"Oh, Aslan, Aslan, dearest Aslan, it is you, it is you! I've missed you so much!" the rest of her ecstatic cry was lost among the warmth and softness of his fur, but he gave a rumbling purr which might have been a laugh as he nudged her shoulder companionably with his nose.
"Well met, Dear One," and as she pulled back, he raised his warm, golden eyes to gaze proudly over her shoulder at Edmund who had followed her. "Very well met, indeed."
Lucy turned…and smiled, watching fondly with one hand still woven in Aslan's mane as Edmund immediately dropped to one knee in front of them and bowed his head, pressing his own hand to his heart.
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and the door shall be opened unto you. For everyone who asks shall receive, and anyone who seeks shall find, and to those who knock, the door shall be opened.—Matthew 7:7-8
Tbc.
