Another Heart Calls
Chapter 3 – A Battle of the Hearts
Disclaimer; all characters here are copyright to C.S. Lewis
AN/ I'm sorry you had to wait a little while. I've had commitments, like school, friends, gigs and I just couldn't find the time to write new chapters. I'll try and be quicker next time, but I can't promise anything.
Again thank you to everyone that found the time to review, even my sole bad review. Even if you think what I'm writings a pile of crap, tell me, so I can learn and improve from your insights. Especially thank you to mae-E who I noticed has started to read this one too, after reading my other Casaspian. Thank you! Please read and reivew, I like hearing your thoughts!
"Peter! Peter!" Lucy was screaming her brothers name at the top of her lungs, voice ringing hoarse, tears sliding down her face, gasping and sobbing. She didn't know why she was crying, the news she'd received had been good. Well, good for one person at least. It was the dead of night and she'd just woken up from a dream, a surprisingly real dream that featured a certain golden lion . . . "Peter! Pet-" She snapped impatiently, until she heard the sound of footsteps racing up the stairs. Peter flew into her room, almost knocking over her lamp as he rammed against it, looking at Lucy quizzically.
"What's wrong? Are you OK? Not hurt?" Lucy rolled her eyes as he did the big brother thing. Always the over protector. She supposed that he'd noticed her tears, though how he'd noticed them in the darkness confused her. The light flicked on and Peter bit his lip, looking at his sad little sister, huddling in her bed, legs to her chest, crying. His hear swelled with love for her, gently leaning down and sitting on the bed beside her.
"Yes, yes and yes," she told him patiently, about to burst with the growing fear in the pit of her stomach, the worry and confusion. "Peter. Have you seen Susan?" Peter shook his head, eyebrows knitting together, wondering what Lucy was going on about. Susan would be out somewhere, sitting in the park, practising archery, getting groceries for mother – doing something. It wasn't like she could go anywhere.
"She's around," he shrugged, raking a hand through his rich golden hair thoughtfully. "Somewhere."
"No! She isn't!" and then Lucy burst into tears, clutching at Peter, heart sinking to her toes, tears forcing their way out. "Oh, Peter, she's gone!" Peter held onto his sister as she swayed against him, balling her hands into fists and crying into his shoulder, her sweet face crumpled in pain.
"Gone? Lu, gone where? Come on now, don't be silly-"
"Peter. She's gone." Lucy informed him flatly. "I had a dream, you see," she was shaking, trying to hold back those vicious tears that threatened to leak from underneath her closed eyelids. She breathed in and out, steadying her nerves. "Aslan was there, I was in Narnia, it was so beautiful," she sighed peacefully, his arms tightening around her, a certain amount of wistfulness in her voice, and shining hope in her eyes. Peter growled, as he hated whenever Lucy was reminded of Narnia, whenever she spoke of it. He hated when any of them ever brought up the subject, best to be forgotten, he always said. It was a childhood fantasy, that they were too old for now. They all knew they were never going back – something they never forgot – and they all wished they could revisit their true home, despite Peter putting on a façade in some vain hope that he'd convince himself that he didn't really yearn for Narnia. He knew it hurt Lucy when she had dreams like this, it just made her long for Narnia, it just made her wish to never wake up. Peter had come to her many times, almost every night the weeks following when they'd returned home. When she was younger she'd mostly just cried into him, falling asleep after several minutes, but as she grew, she told him of her dreams, her voice full of a deep yearning. She seemed convinced that one day they'd go back for good. Peter wished he could help her see otherwise.
"Lucy, it was only a dream . . ." he tried but was stopped immediately. Lucy wasn't so silly as to believe his puny words.
"No," she shook her head, smiling slightly. "It wasn't just a dream. It was, oh, almost like a vision or something. A message from Aslan . . ."
"Lu," Peter felt his heart thump angrily, he wished she wouldn't say such foolish things. A message from Aslan? Well, it would only hurt her even more, to fill her with false hope. Why couldn't she stop acting like a child and realise that they were never going back to Narnia? "Lu. Stop."
"Peter, don't you want to know what he said?" she wiped her ears with the back of her hand, sniffing. When he didn't reply, she continued. "Aslan said that he misses us, terribly, and that we'll be back with him soon. But what he said that's more important-"
"Lu!" Peter said urgently, trying to stop her. This was only going to make everything worse.
She ignored him, continuing anyway. "-is about Susan. Aslan said that Susan doesn't fulfil a purpose here any more, because of Caspian, because she loves him. He said that in Narnia she becomes a great Queen once more, but back here, she's alone, without anyone by her side-"
"Lucy!" Peter tried to make her stop, but his efforts to clamp her lips together, shutting any noise out, were futile.
"-he said that the only thing to do, to save not only Susan but Caspian from a lifetime of misery, was to send her back. Apparently Caspian was about to marry Ramandu's daughter, who's isn't nice at all, not like Ramandu, and makes Caspian's life a misery. He wouldn't go into details but I think-" Peter was desperately trying to shut her up, trying to block out her words, anything but to here the ridiculous things she was saying. That's what they were, right? Ridiculous, ridiculous things dreamt up by a sleep, upset child. Why, Lu? Why? You're only making things worse for all of us . . .
"-and anyway, he said that Susan's with Caspian now. That she's going to be all right, and we're not to worry because we'll see her again soon. He hopes we'll understand why she's back and that we won't-"
"Lucy, please, be quiet!" Peter shook her so hard she stopped talking at once and just sat watching him, pale and quiet. "Stop it. Stop lying! I don't care if you dreamt up that, because it isn't real! It's a fairy story, Lu. We aren't going back, not any of us! Especially not Susan. Quit lying! Please!" He'd never been so angry before, never shouted at her quite so loudly before, he felt upset at both of them, but nothing would stop the one word that kept falling from his lips. "Lies, lies, lies, lies!"
Lucy was crying again, scared of Peter, wondering why he wouldn't listen to her. Aslan had came to her, clear as day, and she trusted Aslan, with everything she had. He wouldn't intentionally cause her pain, or lie to her. He'd came to her in the past, telling her that he'd see her again, and she had the last time! She'd seen him with Edmund and Eustace! If he said that Susan was back in Narnia now, then she believed him.
"Lucy? Peter?" their mothers shrill voice was at the door, knocking on it quietly. "Is everything all right?" the door opened, revealing their mother, father and Edmund, standing their reproachfully, watching them both. "Peter? Why is Lucy crying?" Peter didn't know what to say. Their parents had heard of Narnia – they'd tried to convince them – but being adults they'd laughed them off, thinking them foolish. They'd been especially surprised that all the other children still believed in Lucy's daft stories. The first time, when they were evacuated, and still positively children, it had just been expected, they were supposed to make up silly games – but now with Susan and Peter on the cusp of adulthood, and even Edmund almost grown up, it seemed strange.
"Oh nothing mother, just a nightmare," Peter tried to smooth everything over while pieing through his teeth. "Lucy was just going to-"
"Mother, where's Susan?" Lucy asked suddenly, noticing for the first time, that her eldest sister wasn't standing beside Edmund. That could really only mean two things, either she was blissfully unaware on account of being asleep, or . . .
Narnia.
"Susan?" pondered their mother, who had seemed to freeze still, her eyes widening, looking at her daughter strangely. She glanced at her husband, eyes wide like saucers. She didn't know how to answer the question they'd prosed. "Lucy . . . Come now, why were you thinking of that? You know . . . " she paused, trying to steady her breathing. It was still a difficult topic for them all. "You know that Susan died, Lucy, quite a while ago. During the war, the bombs, I thought you . . ." her face was a perfect mask of horror, her eyes going wide as saucers, biting into her lip. She looked like she'd just seen a ghost, or something equally as ghastly. "W-ow-what made you think of her, now?" she knew her face would be crumpling in pain, as it always did when she thought of her beautiful eldest daughter, who'd been snatched away from her. Her husband looped an arm around his wives small shoulders, holding her fragile, dainty body to his. He feared for her stability, feared that the loss was a continuous pain that never dimmed for his wife. He was somewhat right about the continuous pain. If there's one thing you can say about lament, it's that it's constant. Year later the pain, the grief, can still all be there. Perhaps you haven't thought about it, but it's almost guaranteed that it's still there, in some shape or form, maybe not at the front of your mind, or the back, but somewhere uncomfortably in the middle.
Peter, Edmund and Lucy stared at one another, then choosing to stare at their father and mother, quite unable to hold onto their desperately frantic tongues. What had their mother just said? Susan dead? What? It seemed so absurd that they wanted to laugh, and then cry, sobbing and gasping because it just couldn't be true. Susan wasn't dead, what was going on?No, it couldn't be . . . Susan wasn't dead! If there was one thing they were sure of, it was that.
In Lucy's eyes, it could all only mean one thing. Well two: Susan was definitely in Narnia, and they'd found out what happened if you stayed in Narnia. In their world, you died, simple as that. You were no more, if you chose to stay in Narnia, you were gone, dead. A shiver raced through her, despite the house being toasty and warm, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck at the hideous thought.
"Funny, mother!" Edmund laughed out loud, clapping his mother on the shoulder. "You joking like that . . ." his mother looked at him, appalled, that he'd make a joke of it all.
"Edmund," she warned, eyes about to spill out tears.
"Susan?" his father said suddenly, shaking his head, he looked tense and unbearably sad. "Lucy, don't think of all that sadness at this time of night. It'll do you no good. We all loved Susan, but it will only bring you sadness . . . Especially at night, young child," he cupped her chin in his warm palms, brushing his fingers over her soft lips. "Dry those tears and don't remember all the bad things. We'll talk about it all in the morning, you don't need to cry nor worry any more."
Peter's heart was racing, shaking his head fiercely. No, he couldn't believe it. Susan had to be here! She wasn't dead, or gone! His parents must be having a joke, or they must have amnesia. Susan still existed in this world even if . . . He couldn't say it. Even if she'd . . .
Oh, God, his mind was swimming, he felt like he was underwater, like he couldn't hear what his parents were saying any more. Susan dead? No, no, no, no, NO!
"They're, almost ready," Trumpkin adjusted the reigns on Caspian's horse with a flourish, clapping the horse on the side of it's neck. "It's a nice day for a ride, sire," he noted, politely.
"It is," Caspian agreed, looking around the almost empty courtyard. He hadn't required many men, just his best ones, and Susan, of course, Susan. His heart melted at her name, he had the sudden urge to laugh out loud, dance around, act unlike himself, because he was back on track to making Susan realise he wasn't terrible after all. He just had to figure out what to do about Hera.
He contemplated sending her home, but how would he go about that? He couldn't just demand she be sent home. She was a guest, that would make him look very bad in the eyes of his Kingdom, if he sent his former bride-to-be home in the favour of the old Queen. He shook his head, pushing the thoughts from his mind. He wouldn't think about it until he'd spoken to Aslan. That was the best idea he could come up with, the only way he could know for certain.
"Ready?" he whirled around at the sound of her voice, soft and breezy. She smiled at her, delicious plump lips breaking into a beam, eyes shining in the dim light of the cloudy mid-afternoon. She was dressed in the moss-green dress she wore for archery, and for battle, with the nipped in waist, tight as a glove, accentuating her curves to perfection. Caspian couldn't help it when his mouth dropped open. She was armed with her bow and arrows, a dark cloak noted around her shoulders. Unknown to them she'd also stuck Lucy's vial and dagger in her pocket, as well as the horn, uncertain if she'd need them, but unwilling to leave them behind. They held a sentimental value to her, making her feel almost close to her sister whom she missed terribly – and the horn made her feel safer, knowing that she could always call someone if things got bad. If there was one thing she desperately wanted to ask Aslan – among many things – it was about what would happen to her in England, if she did actually stay here? She wondered if she'd just disappear all together, no one ever knowing that Susan Pevensie ever existed. A shiver raced down her spine, having to close her eyes for a moment at the thought. The idea that no one would remember her, that she would have never existed, made her feel odd – almost as if someone was walking of her grave – it made her feel vulnerable and unsure.
"Yes, my lady," Trumpkin replied for Caspian, since the King was staring at Susan with an almost glazed expression on his face. "Ready and rearing to go," he patted the neck of the horse he was standing beside, which was a grey and ever so pretty. It was Susan's horse. "She's all ready for you."
"Thanks," she came over, uncertain of how she'd jump up, it was a higher horse than she'd mounted before. Just in time, as she was about to attempt to jump, Caspian came over and questioningly, put his arms around her. She nodded, so he lifted her up, high in the air, positioning her on the horse. She placed her feet in the stirrups, clutching at the reigns, while he fanned out her skirt, smoothing it around the horse. "Thanks," she repeated to him, a glowing smile on her lips.
"Are you sure Hera won't be joining us?" Trumpkin asked as several of Caspian's men came out, jumping onto their own horses, carrying heavy silver swords, swathed in metal. Susan couldn't help hide a smile at Trumpkin's arrogant, annoyed grunt. At last, someone else who didn't like Hera!
"Riding? Travelling? Aslan?" Caspian hissed, climbing onto his own horse, who whinnied as he pulled on the reigns a little too tightly. "Hera would never partake in something like this. It's much too uncomfortable for her, besides, is there any need? She doesn't have any questions of her own to ask Aslan." Everyone laughed politely, exchanging looks with each other, everyone except Susan, who was beginning to get the feeling that no one – not even Caspian himself truly knew or liked Hera. Hera seemed to be a bit of a mystery. She was beautiful sure, she acted like she loved Caspian, and she was worthy of the royal crown – but there was something about her, something cold and hard and sinister. Susan couldn't place it, but when she looked at that girl, so full of sweetness and light, she was left with a bitter taste in her mouth. Maybe it was just because Hera was engaged to Caspian, and even though she was still seething angry, Susan loved Caspian, but Susan knew there was something unnerving, something not quite right about Hera. She had a feeling that underneath that innocent little girl persona, lurked a very twisted and distorted heart . . .
They galloped off at a slow pace, Caspian leading, with Susan trailing just behind him and Trumpkin to his left. Susan could hear every word they uttered, not that there was much to be heard, they were mainly talking about strategics in case of a battle.
"A battle?" Susan lunged her horse forward, so she was side by side with Caspian. He nodded, looking gravely at her.
"We have a feeling that we're on the cusp of a revolution. Some Telmarines, a minority, but none the less, there are some, wish to be rid of the Narnians. They can't handle nor accept change, and so they cause problems for any Narnians passing through parts of land they've claimed as 'their' territory. Since I am a King who supports Narnians and their rights, they see me as the enemy, and would not take any heed in attacking me and my men," he cleared his throat, eyes softening at her, she was so unafraid, so fearless. He admired her, he really did.
"Well then, if a battles what they want . . ." a strong, unwavering fierceness came to her eyes, making her light silvery blue orbs flash in the light. No one doubted her ability to give them a battle. They'd all seen what she could do before, with her skilled bow and arrows, the passion in her heart and soul when ones she loved came into contact with anything that would harm them. Susan was ruthless on the battle field, quick and skilled with endless bounds of freedom. It was almost as if on the battle field she changed, she let go of her prim proper self, lost her inhibition and became who she was truly meant to be. A fighter.
"You don't need to, Susan, I couldn't ask you to-" his efforts were completely futile, he didn't even know why he was trying. There was no use being gentlemanly in front of Susan, she knew that when push came to shove, he'd allow her to fight no matter what. Even if he did love her, and was therefore, afraid of losing her.
"Hopefully it won't come to that!" chirped Trumpkin, steadying his horse. "We'll be camped out by nightfall not far from Cair Paravel, we should arrive mid-morning. Your men have already spoken to Aslan, I presume. I do hope he hasn't flitted off, you both need your questions answered . . ."
"Only a battle will solve all the tensions!" came a voice, an almost inaudible squeak. Suddenly there was a flicker of a tail, a pair of beady black eyes and a tiny, needle-like sword. Reepicheep stood on Caspian's horses neck, holding onto the reigns with a steely determination. Caspian had been wondering where he'd gotten to. "My lady," he bowed low to Susan, catching him looking at her. "I'm glad to see you've returned." She nodded, smiling, keeping silent. The mouse pressed on, giddy with excitement. Although his justifications for a battle were solid, Reepicheep didn't even try to deny that his main reason for wanting a battle was because he loved to fight more than anything. His enemies underestimated him – of course they did, he was a mouse! - but he liked nothing more than proving them wrong and tackling them to the ground. For what he lacked in size, he made up for in courage and fierceness. He was a merciless warrior, and a great asset to Caspian.
"If we fight now we can try and meet some resolution, the problems won't just go away! I say slit their throats and have it done with!" Reepicheep squeaked in a shrill excitement, wishing he made a gruffer, deeper sound when he was excited.
"That may be true," Trumpkin recounted with a sigh, "but what good would it be now? We're not heavily armed, we've got Queen Susan with us and we're on our way to see Aslan, a battle would only delay our mission. I'm all for having a battle, but a strategically planned one, mapped out by our King. We can't just go waving our swords around like savages, we've got to think things through!" Reepicheep gave a snort, waving his tiny sword around.
"Thank goodness it isn't up to you Trumpkin! You're all talk talk talk and no action! I say it should be up to the King to decide, he'll know what's best!" They both looked at Caspian, who was busy musing, having listened to both sides and firmly decided that a battle right now was too dangerous. It wouldn't be a battle anyway. It would be a silly, puny little futile fight, why not wait and plan their attack? They'd have to work out how to defeat the Telmarines, but he'd been planning a much gentler approach. He didn't want to have to fight them. He wanted to try and persuade them that the Narnians weren't as bad as they thought.
"Caspian?" Susan probed, smiling at him.
"Yes, yes," Caspian cleared his throat, turning back to Reepicheep and Trumpkin who were quietly waiting. They were making good ground, flying throughout the grounds surrounding the Telmarines castle, almost at the forest he'd once feared. He used to think that all Narnias were savage, strange beings, and that the forest was the hub of all the terror. What he actual found out was the truth. "I'm with Trumpkin, although, I'd rather try and show the revolting Telmarines that the Narnias aren't all bad before we fight them. What's the use in killing them, when they'll still think the same and have prejudice in their hearts? It'd be better trying to persuade them to what's right." That was not the reply any of them had been expecting, and Susan smiled gently to herself, admiring his courage. Not every King to think so tactically, or so wisely. Although they may not all see it now, Caspian was being the bigger person in doing this, in at least trying it. The much bigger person.
"Ah, we see, your majesty," Reepicheep bowed low at him. "Whatever you suggest must be the right decision." He shrugged, deciding that since the King was still young, and somewhat naïve, that he'd learn in time that when people were as stubborn as some of the Telmarines, and all they knew was that Narnians weren't people that required any respect or co-operation, it wasn't any use trying to show them they were wrong. They'd never change. They'd stay stuck in their ways.
Caspian was lot more naïve if he thought it'd be easy to win over the Telmarines. He really had no idea just how hard it would be, to relieve himself of more than one enemy. Caspian glanced over at Susan, smiling, as for one tiny, fragment of a second, he could feel himself truly happy. He didn't know if he'd registered it exactly yet, that the true love he thought was lost forever, had suddenly come back into his life, bringing colour, vibrancy and a new-found hope with her. Susan was all that he could think of at that moment, and just for that moment, he allowed himself to hope, that at some point, they could be together. Surely Aslan wasn't so cruel to toy with his and her emotions like this? To bring her back into his life before cruelly dragging her back out. Caspian smiled as the horses cantered along the worn-down path, allowing himself, for a moment, to just hope. After all, hope is an emotion so rarely put into practise.
"What?" Hera snapped incredulously, glaring at the guard standing in front of her. "What? Gone?" she couldn't contain her anger as she blundered. "No. Surely not, it can't be!" She stamped her feet and pouted winsomely, but the guard shook his head.
"Lady Hera, they've already gone. It's the truth," he was only a young boy, of perhaps sixteen, and he was shaking like a leaf caught in a giddy, gigantic wind as Hera cried and stamped her feet some more, glaring and batting her eyelashes at him in equal measure.
"But, why?!" she demanded, tucking a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear. "I mean, Caspian would have told me if he was going this soon!"
"He did." They all turned around, everyone shocked as Saoirse spoke up, especially Saoirse herself. "I mean, um, maybe he, uh, forgot?" she didn't want to be on the receiving end of Hera's almighty wrath, so she attempted to cover up her mistake. Evelyn shook her head at Saoirse, what was the girl doing? Didn't she realise it was a mistake to cross Hera when she was this hopping mad? The best thing to do was calmly try and console her until she shut up. Saoirse was the one who taught Evelyn this! Why wasn't Saoirse following her own advice?
"Forgot." Hera processed this word slowly. She didn't like the word, it seemed too aloof and uncaring, she didn't like the image of slipping from someone's mind. Hera had always worked hard at making herself impossible to forget. Even if you loathed her, you still remembered her. She wasn't avoidable. The thought that Caspian had just forgotten all about her didn't sit comfortably in her stomach, she felt queasy and unorganised and forgotten.
She'd already been feeling pretty bad. Having to tell her father, Ramandu, that the son-in-law he already loved, had betrayed her had been heartbreaking for the both of them. More so for him, she though, since he was already taken at the idea of having the King as his son-in-law, and he could already imagine his little Herry sitting on the golden throne. Still, she sniffed sadly, it wasn't like he'd have to suffer disappointment for long. She wasn't stupid enough to tell good old Ramandu about her plan, but she did lie a little. OK, quite a fair amount. She told him that she was certain it was a temporary thing. The wedding wasn't off, nor was the engagement.
Such lies.
Even though it had never been said, everyone knew both were firmly off. Caspian didn't care about Hera at all when Susan was around. He'd made that well clear. Oh, who cares? If, my plan works, and it will, then we'll soon we'll be shot of that Susan anyway! She smiled to herself, practically glowing at the prospect.
"Hera why don't we go-" Evelyn was about to ask her if she'd like to return to her room. They were all ready for travelling, in plain clothes, cloaks, with as minimum items as possible in little canvas bags, there was no use waiting around here. Caspian was long gone, anyone could see that.
"No." She sounded so certain she even shocked herself. "We won't go anywhere, Evelyn. The only place that we'll be going tonight is right after Caspian," something flashed in her eyes, a sinister spark maybe, a hint of what was to come, but it was gone so quickly no one would have noticed it, never mind been allotted time to decipher what it meant.
"Hera! You can't!" Saoirse gripped her shoulders, whirling her around, fast. "We don't even know what root he was taking or anything! We're just three girls, we can't fight or defend ourselves, what if, what if . . . The Telmarines came looking, they'd be able to slay us in a minute! Oh Hera, it's far too risky!" she shuddered at the thought of burly men in swarthy cloaks, brandishing swords and spilling their crimson blood in an instance. No! They couldn't possibly go unarmed! No! She wouldn't let them.
"You always worry about the silliest things!" Hera chuckled thoughtfully, shaking Saoirse's fingertips from her shoulders. "Any root would do, as long as we ended up at Cair Paravel, where they're headed, and no Telmarines are going to attack us! If anything, they'd only take us as hostages, Saoirse, and Caspian couldn't possibly let them kill us. They'd use us against him and he'd save us, we'd be all right in the end, you'd see. As for going unarmed," the sparkled returned to her eyes. The guard was shifting uncomfortably, watching this scene unfold. He'd remembered the joking King Caspian had made about Lady Hera following them, he'd detected the feeling that no one would like it very much if she did follow them. He was about to say something, but instead, Hera pipped him to the post.
"I think it'll be good if I go anyway, run along after him like the doting wife I should be. I'm sure he'll be nothing but pleased to see that I can't stand half a second without him! It'll look less suspicious . . ." she trailed off, smirking to no one in particular. Yes, that would work! She'd found a way to make this terrible complication work in her favour. Oh, happy days!
Evelyn nodded at the end, sighing under her breath. It was just like Hera to only complicate things further. Evelyn understood her yearning for Caspian's title, he was everything Hera's husband ought to be, but even she could see the way he loved Queen Susan. Even she had boundaries. She'd have stopped by now, but it seemed Hera really had no mercy, no rules. She just did what she liked, and if that didn't work, did something else. Evelyn sighed. She should have known that nothing was plain sailing with Hera.
"You, boy," Hera smiled at the young guard with a hint of warmth. "Could you get us some horses or something?" All his thoughts of telling them what he thought, that it wasn't right to go against his King's wishes evaporated. He might as well as been jelly on the floor for all the help he was in halting her plan. He even fixed saddles, bridles and reigns, helping each girl up onto her horse, handing them each a little sack with some bread, cheese, water and hard apples inside. He told them they would do until they reached Cair Paravel or where the King had set up for the night. The last up was Saoirse, who mounted a beautiful chestnut Arab, stroking it's tawny hair with one hand, as she gently climbed up. She smiled weakly at the boy, wishing with all her heart that Hera would just give up. She'd only lead them into trouble, into places none of the girls needed to enter, dark dangerous routes that would only end in misery.
The boy waved them off, feeling like a traitor, a mouse disguised as a man. Hera could already feel the wheels turning in motion, as her plan began to fall into place. It was all running quite smoothly, some minor hiccups but nothing she couldn't handle. Once she got over all her problems and looked at how tangible her goal was, it didn't seem such a bad thing. It wasn't like the plan would fail at any rate. Showcasing both of the stupid lovey-dovey idiots the bad things about each other wouldn't be too difficult. It wasn't like they were perfect. They both had a mountain of problems, and Hera planned to showcase them all, and with some full-on flirting with Caspian, Hera knew she'd be able to push Susan to her limits, and then she'd have her throne back. It was quite humorous at how she wasn't even pretending it was Caspian she was after any more. He was just an added bonus, the cherry on top of that glittering, golden cake. She licked her lips, tasting success and power so close, yet so far.
She still had a little way to travel to her goal, but she knew it would be easy enough. After all, everything was easy for her.
"We have to decide what to do!" Peter cried, exasperated. He'd been pacing his bedroom floor back and forth, back and forth, so many times that he imagined the carpet would be worn underneath his feet. He couldn't work out what to do about the whole issue. He wept inside for the loss of his beloved sister, but he didn't show it, he was trying to be the strong one, even though no one else was really worried at all. He just couldn't imagine a world without her, a world in which his parents thought she was dead! It hurt him so badly.
Edmund of course believed Lucy, full force, that Susan was in Narnia and not in actual fact dead dead. He reminded Peter of that one time when they didn't believe Lucy, with the White Witch, they'd all ended up looking like idiots. From then on they vowed to listen when Lucy had a point to make, and like a good brother, Edmund was true to his word. If Lucy was sure Susan was OK, that she was with Caspian, and they were going soon anyway, what was the trouble? Edmund was kind of lieing. He was extremely, severely, desperately worried about Susan. He was so confused about all things, but the missing, the longing, the lament, it fed on all his memories of her, all his thoughts so clear and precise. It was almost as if she was still there, the way he could picture her clear as day in his mind. He couldn't wrap his scientific, knowing brain around the idea that she'd vanished, that she didn't exist in this world any more, that she was dead to everyone who'd known her. What did that mean? Was she never coming home? Was Narnia now where she belonged? He just wished Aslan had come to them all so he could get some answers. He hated having to grief for a sister that wasn't really dead, he hated all this pain, all this uncertainty, but more than anything he hated Susan not being there. She'd always been the most reasonable, sensible one. Whilst Peter and Edmund were smart and courageous as anything, and Lucy free-spirited and passionate, Susan was sensible and thoughtful. They missed her input, her touch in decisions, flat-out, they missed her.
His parents reaction still unnerved him. Them thinking their eldest daughter was dead was a scary, shaky thought. When they all went – Lucy was adamant that they'd all go soon, never to return – what would happen to their parents? They'd been so fixated on Narnia, they barely thought of them. Edmund loved his parents, perhaps not as much as he loved Narnia, but he loved them all the same. If they all left them, it would be terrible. Imagine knowing that they'd left their loving parents alone in a world where all there children were gone? Four children dead? No! His parents wouldn't be able to cope with that amount of loss, he was sure of it. He shuddered, no, this couldn't be. That couldn't happen!
"We have to decide what to do!" Peter said again, this time softer. He looked at his siblings, trying to find a solution, but none came. He'd already tried telling Lucy to have a nap and see if any dreams of Narnia came, but this faltered. He'd already tried calling out to Aslan, but again, no hope. He just wished they still had Susan's horn. If they could only call him in a way that he couldn't answer, but it must have been left in Narnia. What a pity. He didn't know what to do! His thoughts were racing, thrashing around his head, refusing to settle down. He felt like he was underwater, and everything was just going over his head, like it all wasn't real. In truth he wondered if it was just a bad dream. Hopefully he'd wake up, clutching the covers, sweaty, and Susan would be there. Back home, safe.
It was a shame then, that this all wasn't a dream. It was far more real than Peter realised.
"What can we do, Peter?" Lucy spoke up, shrugging. "Aslan said we'll see Susan soon. There isn't anything that we can do, it's not like we can just go to Narnia whenever we want, and besides, what good would it do? Susan isn't in trouble, Aslan would tell us if she was," Lucy paused, her words filled with the sensible, insightful, intelligent prose that all of the others seemed to lack. Lucy could analyse and solve problems in a second, finding answers that, although no one wanted to hear, were truer than anything. "I say we just wait. Aslan will tell me if something goes wrong, I just know it. Don't worry Peter. You aren't to worry. Things will work themselves out, in time."
Peter didn't know what to make of her cautions, he was still fuming, frantic, terrified for Susan, but what was there that they could do? He admitted, angrily, that Lucy was right.
Edmund, who'd be watching the scene carefully, spoke at last.
"I think Lucy's right," he said carefully, looking at Peter. "But, I think we should be worried about Susan. None of us have ever been to Narnia by ourselves before, imagine how odd it must be for her."
"But she's not alone!" Lucy snapped, shaking her head. "She's got Caspian, above everyone, then there's Trumpkin, Reepicheep, Aslan, goodness Edmund, she's anything but alone!"
"And," Edmund continued, ignoring his sisters protests. "She doesn't even know why she's there. It must be so strange for her, and frightening. I can't imagine going to Narnia just by myself, it would just be too bizarre!" He cleared his throat, turning to Lucy. "Do you think she's spoken to Aslan yet? Did he mention anything, Lucy?"
"No, he said nothing about meeting Susan yet," Lucy shrugged, feeling a little queasy. She'd never really thought about what Susan must have been feeling before, but now that she did, there was a definite unease in her stomach. She couldn't imagine being alone in Narnia, without at least someone, it must have been odd for Susan. One minute she's in this world, doing trivial, futile things, the next she's in the strangest place of all, possibly far away from her destination. It must have been quite a scary experience for her. Lucy did hope she'd found Caspian all right, Aslan hadn't mentioned any of that, so she'd just assumed, but now, she was feeling a little fearful for Susan. They were completely helpless, waiting on the call of an unpredictable, lion, to tell them news of their sister, who was apparently 'dead' in their world. How strange it was, to have to pretend to be continuing to grieve the loss of a sister who they all knew was still alive. Lucy really felt for her parents. If only they realised that their eldest daughter was in fact safe and well, but safe and well in a different land, far far away form their own.
"Peter, I'm scared for her," Lucy's voice sounded so tiny and meek, like a mouse trying to cry out, but finding that their voice was just too small. "What if . . . What if something goes wrong?" she shuddered at the thought, blinking back tears. "What if she dies or something equally as terrible? She's got no one to protect her!"
"You're forgetting someone, Lucy," Edmund answered for Peter, fiercely, crouching down low to his sister.
"Ah, yes, Caspian," Peter agreed, nodding nonchalantly. Even if he didn't like the idea of Caspian being alone with his sister, he still felt a hot flush of relief at the idea that Susan wasn't entirely defenceless and alone. What was he talking about? They'd already been over this! She wasn't alone. She had many people there.
"No," Edmund shook his head feverishly. "You're both seriously underestimating, and forgetting Susan herself. Have you both developed amnesia, or do you not remember all the fighting Susan did when she last went? Our sister can take care of herself, don't worry. Susan won't go down without a fight!" As his words struck a chord with his siblings, relieving them somewhat, his own sister was in a fight, of sorts. Even though it wasn't a fight of the swords, arrows or cavalry variety, no, it was a fight involving much worse tools. A battle of the hearts, involving a huge amount of love, two dashing ladies (one with the truest soul imaginable, the other, with a chip of ice where her heart should be) and a certain King, that it seemed everyone wanted to get their hands on . . . Whether it be for noble intentions, or false ones, it seemed as if Susan was getting herself in deeper than she realised. The greatest foe was one she had severely underestimated.
NEXT TIME: Susan discovers what Aslan's plans are for her, Caspian has some questions of his own to ask Aslan, the remaining Pevensie children try to decipher Aslan's latest 'dream message' and Hera sets out on her quest, to win Caspian's throne, rather than his heart.
Thank you for reading this latest chapter! This took a little while to get out as I was very busy this week, writing other chapters and doing school work, not to mention securing gig tickets! Oh, yes, seeing Paramore, eek! Anyways, I'm so happy that you've read this, and please don't forget to review if you liked it.
Thanks!!! (: