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This Night

Disclaimer: It belongs to C.S. Lewis. I don't own nothing at all. Don't want it neither. Wouldn't know where to put it

Chapter Ten - Conversations

She could now move the upper half of her body, and had felt her leg twitch on the journey over. After building up a little more strength, she pulled the curtain aside and looked out at the world.

She gasped.

Snow covered the ground. She quickly added this up in her head. At least three weeks; maybe more. She let the curtain fall back into place and as she dropped her body back against the wall, sinking deep into her thoughts.

"Kate!?"

Peter rushed over and kneeled next to her. He quickly looked her over, checking to see if she was wounded.

"How did you get here?" He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, but it was to no avail. Edmund rushed up beside him.

"What happened?" He looked at her with a worried expression. She looked fine; some colour had come back into her face, and truth be told, she looked better than she had in very long time. Peter was looking at her like he expected to get an answer from her but she remained silent. She just stared at Peter, a look of pain mixed with happiness on her face. It was a very small amount of happiness though; Edmund almost didn't see it, but there was no denying that it was there.

Peter still looked a little shocked from finding her on the floor and not in bed. He kept opening his mouth then shutting it again, as if he was trying to ask her more, but very confused at how it all came about. Edmund just watched him, knowing that anything he said wouldn't help. Suddenly Kate's hand reached out and took a hold of Peter's, squeezing it slightly. Edmund turned slightly away, the act was so friendly, yet so intimate and small; he felt that he had witnessed something holy, that some people only wish to see in a lifetime, and he was unworthy to do so. When he looked back he could see that Peter had calmed down considerably. She had always had that effect on him. Maybe that was why they were perfect for each other. A king always needs someone whom they can turn to as their safe haven - a person who seemed perfectly at peace, no matter how hard or severe the storm they are going through seems to batter their lives. A person who when going through those times, can calm those around them as well.

Edmund was happy for the two in front of him, and only wished that they would be able to rise above their fears, doubts, misgivings and miscommunication to be able to see what everyone else already did.

Grinning he slapped Peter on the back heartily, shocking him out of his faze. "Well, if the lady permits," He bowed in her direction. "I think I might wander off in the general direction of, say, the kitchen." Katherine's eyes laughed at him. "May I bring anything back for the patient?"

"Whatever they have Edmund. I feel as though I haven't eaten in months." Edmund nodded and rose to leave. "Thank you." Her voice told him that it was more than just a thank you for going and getting food, but also for giving her the time alone with Peter. He nodded again and gave her a warm, encouraging smile. He figured he might wander around slightly before making his way to the kitchen and give them a little extra time to talk in private. Maybe he would go and try to find Susan and Lucy to ward them off. His eyes danced. Yes - they would have plenty of time.

----

"He's not coming back for a couple of hours is he?" Peter was still looking at the doorway where his brother had departed through.

Katherine shook her head with a smile. "Well, I doubt I'll be eating anytime soon." She looked back at Peter. He looked almost the same, his hair was longer and falling across his eyes.

He looked back at her.

"How are you Peter? Truly."

He hesitated before answering. "I've been better."

"Everyone else?"

"They're doing well."

"Good," she said glancing down and playing with the edge of a rug. She fought to find something to say, but words seemed to fail her. It was strange to wake up one morning and three weeks had passed and she couldn't move. She shifted her body to find a more comfortable position on the hard floor.

"Here," said Peter, taking notice. He moved to her side and she linked an arm around his neck. He stood up carrying her much like he did when she had twisted her ankle. It felt good to be in his arms again.

He placed her on the bed and pulled the covers up. She relaxed against the pillow, suddenly feeling tired again. He turned to leave and let her rest.

"No don't," she said, stopping him. He turned back towards her. She suddenly felt very small and childish.

"Can we just talk, like we used to?" she asked in a small voice.

Peter gave a small smile and pulled a chair over next to her bed. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Everything and nothing," she replied helpfully, smiling. There was a short silence. Peter waited for her to start off on a subject, like she always did.

"Tell me about the battle," she said finally, trying to contain a yawn.

----

Peter nodded absently and sank down in his chair. "The battle." He sighed.

"It was three weeks ago. We won, of course."

"Of course," she agreed with a beautiful smile.

He didn't know what else to tell her. She seemed to sense this and help him out.

"Where you wounded?" She asked softly, almost like she was dreading the answer. Peter's heart skipped a beat.

"Yes."

Her eyes widened at she looked quickly at him. "How bad?"

"Not to bad. I'm in one piece right?" he replied, decided that she didn't need to know the full details.

She looked at him intently. Her breathing had become labored and a small glisten of sweat started to show upon her forehead. Peter grew concerned.

"Are you alright?" He asked anxiously.

"I'm fine, Peter. Just a little tired," she said. "Was Susan or Lucy wounded?"

"No."

"Edmund?"

"He made it through unscathed."

She closed her eyes and nestled down into her pillow further. "Good." Her voice was soft, and laden with sleep. Peter stood.

"I should go. You need rest."

She opened her eyes briefly looked at him. She nodded slightly, and as he turned to leave, she spoke.

"Peter, it isn't your fault."

He started. How could she know that he felt that the only reason she was there was because he had put her on the wall. He wanted to ask her, but she was already asleep. He left her room quickly.

----

"What do you mean she was out of bed?" Lucy asked.

"Peter and I entered her room and found her on the floor--"

"She fell out of bed?"

"No, Lu," Edmund said exasperated. "She was all the way over next to the window."

"She crawled?"

"No she hopped," Edmund retorted sarcastically. "Of course she crawled. She doesn't have the proper use of her legs now, does she?"

"Edmund Thomas Pensive, don't get that tone of voice with me," Lucy reprimanded, her hands on her hips. "I just need you to tell me exactly what happened."

"I did!" He cried unbelief. He shook his head at his sister and started to walk away.

"Where is she now?" Lucy shouted after him.

"In her room with Peter."

----

When Katherine awoke, sunlight was streaming in through the window. A servant was whistling in the corridor, the merry tune reverberating around the castle. She slowly sat up and stretched. Her legs were extremely stiff, but she was able to move them. She started to swing them off the bed and attempt to stand, when a noise behind her stopped her. She turned to look, startled, but presently she relaxed when she saw Peter, asleep on the couch, which had been restored to it's proper place in her room.

He was sitting with one leg stretched out and the other drawn in. His head was being propped up by his arm. A book sat forgotten on the cushion next to him. His breathing was deep and his sleep undisturbed. A peace was upon his face, and Kate smiled at him.

She slowly stood, holding onto her bed for support and took a very shaky step. She winced, but forced herself to take another. It felt as though her legs were filled with stones. After a couple more tentative steps she let go of the bed and managed to stay upright. She gradually walked over to Peter and stared at his calm expression. Then, ever so carefully, she reached out her hand and brushed away the hair that fell across his closed eyes. Peter stirred in his sleep, sighed, and then was still.

Katherine withdrew her hand. Walking over to her balcony doors she looked out across the land.

It was all the winters of Narnia that she had seen. Each one reminded her of when she first came to Narnia. Not a green leaf or flower could have been found. She shivered despite the warmth of her room.

She had often wondered and tried to remember how she came to Narnia. Like the Pensives, she forgot the bigger details of her life before. It had all been a dream to her, where she had woken up one morning, but not remembered, except for that of a hazy outline. But she knew that she had not been born in Narnia. She knew because she couldn't remember her father or mother. She had asked Aslan once, where she had come from, but he did not tell her. At first she had been upset at him, but then realized that he did not tell her because it was not the right moment for her to know.

A lone tear fell down her cheek. She knew now. And what she knew troubled her. She knew, because in her sleep, she had dreamt. When she had woken up, she had forgotten, but now she remembered and knew that they were not just dreams but memories. Her memories - ones that had long been forgotten. It terrified her. Not just the memories, but something that Aslan had told her when they had first met.

"You will leave Narnia, when your time comes, and then only will your spirit return."

At the time she didn't care. It was fine with her. She didn't quite believe that Narnia was real. But that was before she had met the Pensives. Aslan's words had faded from her memory over time but now they rang clearly through her thoughts.

Peter stirred again and she turned towards him. They could never know, particularly him. They would never understand. How could they? They could no longer remember either. They would not believe her.

And the plot gets thicker - not that I can say it was thick to begin with. : )

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