Title: Magic of the Deep
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Summary: Peter, Susan, and Lucy find that they must overcome their fears if they hope to rescue their brother, but the final battle between the Fell Beasts and the Narnians still threatens to ruin them all.
Chapter Twenty: Twenty-Four (part one)
Twenty-four oceans and twenty-four skies,
Twenty-four failures and twenty-four tries.
Twenty-four finds me in twenty-forth place,
With twenty-four drop outs at the end of the day.
Life is not what I thought it was,
Twenty-four hours ago.
- Switchfoot, "Twenty-Four"
"I'm coming with you."
Peter turned, surprised, and gave his sister a frown. Lucy had changed from her usual gown into a riding dress, and her hair was pulled back from her face in a loose bun. She had already strapped her dagger, the present from Father Christmas, into a sheath on her belt. Her eyes were filled with determination and defiance, a sure sign that Peter could not win this argument.
But that did not mean he was not going to attempt to reason with her.
"Lucy, this is going to be dangerous. And you… you are not a trained fighter. You cannot…"
Lucy held up one hand, swinging her other Christmas gift, the magical cordial, before her. "You might need my help," she said pointedly, cautiously alluding to the fact that Edmund might not be in one piece when they found him.
Peter shook his head. "You could simply give your cordial to me to hold like you have countless other times," he replied logically, a faint smile pulling at his lips as Lucy's expression wavered.
But she rallied quickly, and said, "No. I'm coming, Peter."
"Lu, I can't focus on saving Edmund if I have to worry about you as well."
But Lucy stuck out her bottom lip stubbornly and answered, "Peter, I can help. I know how to fight, I've done it before." She paused, then added, "I can't just sit here and do nothing while both my brothers are in danger."
Peter glanced past her towards the courtyard. The entire army had gathered, Animals and Creatures spilling out into the twisting paths past the gates of the Cair. They all looked grim, but determined, and Peter knew abruptly that the battle today would somehow seal the fate of Narnia. He swallowed, a little nervous, a little anxious, and inwardly absolutely terrified.
He did not want to put Lucy in danger. But what choice did he have?
"Fine," he said at last. His gaze swept those gathered once more, and fell on Philip. The Horse was standing slightly to the side, deep in conversation with Oreius. Whatever the two were saying, it did not appear hopeful, and their countenances had darkened with worry.
Peter sighed. Philip at least was trustworthy and a strong fighter, powerful enough in battle. "Philip," he called out, and the Horse turned towards him, the centaur quickly following suit. "Lucy will be joining the battle. Would you do me the favor of carrying her?"
Philip nodded his head and answered, "I would be honored." He walked forward, his hooves echoing on the stone beneath them. Lucy moved towards him, her eyes lighting up, and Peter turned away from the scene, feeling incredibly nauseous. What if something happened to her?
The sun had reached high enough in the sky to flood the land below with light and heat. Peter glanced towards the water, watching as the reflection of the sun sent long slivers of gold across the blue. His stomach twisted painfully, and he did his best to bite back the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him.
Aslan appeared.
All eyes turned towards Him as he stepped into view, the sun glinting off His golden coat and mane. He walked towards Peter, His paws making no noise at all.
"Will we win?" Peter asked as Aslan drew near.
The Great Lion shook his head somberly as He answered, "You know I cannot tell you what might come to pass."
"Why?" Peter demanded. But he wasn't really sure what he was actually asking. He knew exactly why Aslan could not tell him what might happen, because no one really knew that anyway. But there were so many other things he did not understand – how did this happen, and where had Aslan been for so long, and why did Edmund have to suffer so much – and his question encompassed all of the thoughts that were currently tearing him apart.
And the worst thought, the question that haunted him, the one to which he was not entirely sure he even wanted to know the answer…
Had Aslan known all along that Edmund was still alive?
But when Aslan spoke, His words were simple, and yet so blunt, "I can only help you if you will let Me."
Peter nodded and slanted a quick look at Lucy. She was speaking to Peter and Oreius. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, wishing fervently that everything was somehow easier.
But wishes were pointless, and ones that could never come true were even worse – they were tortuous.
He forced himself to look away from Lucy, to trust that Philip would protect her, and found himself staring across the courtyard at Veltra. The Wolf was sitting back on his hind legs, his snout tipped towards the sky. Peter had not been oblivious to the change that had occurred in Veltra since the battle, and though he tried not to think about it, he could not help but shudder at what he saw in the Wolf.
How many times had the Wolves plagued him? First taking away Edmund and tearing apart his family, then during the battle against Jadis and the subsequent months…
Before Narnia, back in England, Peter had not been able to understand Edmund. He knew the bullies at that awful school had picked on him, eventually turning him from a childish brat into a spiteful person Peter barely recognized. And Peter had simply never been able to comprehend how that could happen, how anyone could take the pain of what was done to them and inflict it on others, knowing full well how much it hurt.
Then he had come here. Narnia. The land was perfect in so many ways. And Aslan was awesome in so many ways. But war… war was vicious in so many ways.
He understood Edmund now.
Aslan moved away, towards Lucy. Peter watched Him go, then drew a long breath, exhausted and anxious. He could not waste his strength and energy questioning Aslan, no matter how much he might want to. Though the frustration and pain of the past few days plagued him still, he had to let it go and focus on the task at hand.
But letting go was never something he was particularly good at. Just as he was not good at letting his siblings put their lives in danger. Yet Edmund was far beyond his reach at the moment, and Lucy was stubbornly refusing to stay behind.
He glanced up at the sky, giving the sun one last, lingering look.
It was time to go.
Susan had remained behind. Peter and Lucy had gone, along with most of the army, to find Edmund, but Susan had not accompanied them. Peter had told her he needed her to stay here, he was already forced to deal with Lucy coming to battle, he could not handle the possibility of her being their as well. And she had added that she could spend the time in the library, researching Deep Magics.
And so she was sitting alone in the library, several tomes open before her, the beginnings of a headache forming behind her eyes.
Alone, in the empty silence, unable to force away her own unwelcome thoughts.
She should have gone with her siblings. She should have… Edmund was her brother, too. And she had gone with Lucy to find Aslan, hadn't she? So why was she hanging behind now, refusing to face the truth of the situation?
She was afraid.
Terrified.
She stared down at her dress, made of fine silk and lace, jewels adorning her wrists. She was Queen Susan the Gentle. Not Magnificent, not Valiant. She would never be either of those things, she would never be able to face her fears the way they had.
She did not fight, she did not kill. She'd purposefully harmed another Creature only twice before, and the very idea of war left her trembling with a mixture of fear and loathing. War had taken her father away from and cast them into an unknown future. War had taken Edmund away from them, and nearly killed Peter on more than one occasion.
She was Gentle. She navigated the court with ease, smoothing over disagreements among various Narnians with charm and a smile. Peter provided the protection and Lucy the joy, but it was Susan who offered the comfort and sense of belonging that Narnians so desperately needed after the hundred years of winter imposed on them by the Witch.
But Edmund was in the clutches of the Witch. And Susan was afraid. Afraid that staying here had been the wrong decision, and yet afraid that going after Peter and the army was wrong as well.
She pushed the books away from her and rose to her feet, sweeping out of the library. In the hallway, she paused long enough to notice the silence, the lack of normal bustle that suffused the place when the army was at the Cair, and then headed towards the courtyard.
The sun was high in the sky. She paused, her dress rustling about in the faint wind.
"Your Majesty?"
Susan turned towards the sleek Snow Leopard that approached. "I just need some fresh air," Susan said, running a hand through her hair. "I… I need to think."
The Snow Leopard nodded. "Of course, your Majesty," she said. "Would you like company or prefer to think alone?"
"I…" Company was a tempting offer, someone to distract her from her thoughts. But she also knew that she could not take such an easy excuse. She needed to think, needed to figure out what she was going to do. She had to come to some sort of resolution, needed to find peace of mind so that she could focus on the task of rebuilding the family when Peter and Lucy returned with Edmund.
She refused to even consider the fact that they might not return with Edmund. That they might not return at all.
"I would prefer to be alone. But I thank you for the offer."
"Of course, your Majesty." The Snow Leopard withdrew, sending silent signals to the others in the courtyard that Susan wished to be alone, and the Gentle queen continued walking.
She passed through the gates into the outer courtyard, and then beyond those out of the castle and into land beyond. The sun beat down on her, but she did not pay any attention to it. Peter had trained in this heat before, cloaked in heavy metal armor and wielding a heavy sword and shield at the training grounds. It was hot, but she could bear it.
Suddenly, she wanted to go after the army. The desire was so abruptly forceful that she almost started crying at the thought that she had missed her chance. They were long gone, and she could not catch up with them now. But how could she just sit her and wait while her entire family rushed into danger?
It was hard to fight. But, she and Lucy had learned another lesson every time Peter lead the army off to face another foe. It was not easy to be the ones left behind either.
"Is there somewhere you wished to go, dear one?"
Susan whipped around at the sound of Aslan's low voice. She stared at the Lion, mouth hanging open in shock. "I… You… I thought You went with Peter…" she managed at last.
He smiled. "I did. But I thought perhaps I was needed here as well. I will catch up with your brother later."
"Oh, Aslan…" Susan breathed, unable to think of what to say. "I am frightened," she murmured finally.
"I know, child."
"I wanted to go with them, with Peter. But… I am frightened. I am not a fighter, a soldier. I am useless in a battle. And yet… I feel so useless here. So helpless. And I want to help. I am just so… weak."
Aslan came closer, His brown eyes both fierce and gentle. "Susan, you are not a fighter, that much is true. You have other gifts that Narnia needs. But there are rare occasions when extraordinary times demand us to perform extraordinary actions. You may not be a fighter, but no one ever doubted your bravery."
Susan chewed her bottom lip nervously. "Do you think I should have gone with them?"
"What you should have done is no longer relevant," Aslan countered. "All that matters is what you choose to do now."
"I am frightened," Susan repeated. "What if I make the wrong choice?"
Aslan did not reply, and Susan knew this was a decision she had to make on her own. She could not pray for any form of divine inspiration to provide her with answers.
"But I could not catch up with Peter now," Susan said after a moment of contemplation.
"I can take you there, Daughter of Eve. If you wish to go."
The words, though gentle and compassionate, did not provide Susan with any sense of comfort. She was truly on her own now, even though Aslan was standing right before her. She needed to make a decision, needed to choose her own path, and she had to do it all on her own. She could not rely on Aslan to help her until she made a decision, until she was ready help herself.
She could stay. As Aslan had confirmed, she was not a fighter. It would not be wrong, per se. There were many other things she could do to help from here. And war brought about so many horrible changes in people and Animals. She had seen those changes in Peter, and to a lesser extent in Lucy. She had seen them, terrifyingly vivid, in Veltra. She knew from personal experience that taking lives was not easy, that it could never be undone, and that the consequences would follow her forever.
She did not like war. It was a simple, almost trite thought, but it was so incredibly true. She detested war.
But she had left the library. She had come out into the courtyard, and further out of the Cair itself. Why? If she had not at least wanted to subconsciously go after Peter and Lucy, why would she have left?
Unsure if she was making the right decision, but knowing she had to make some decision and this was the best she would be able to settle on, she turned to Aslan once more and said, "I would like to go after Peter. But I need my bow and arrows." She glanced down at her fancy dress. "And to change."
"Make haste, child," Aslan advised. "Time is one thing we do not have."
Lucy held tightly to Philip's mane, her small fingers clutching to the long strands of hair. The army was moving swiftly, nearly racing over the ground, and she felt unsettled by the rocking motion. All around them, the trees swayed in the wind, some snatching at them in an attempt to prevent their progress, others moving out of the way as though to let them travel faster.
She was terrified.
She did not want to admit it aloud, did not want to burden anyone with that knowledge, but she was truly frightened of what might happen. The fear was not just for herself or her two brothers, but for all of Narnia.
Valiant, they called her. And yet the valor seemed to fade, draining from her as she thought of what lay ahead. She slid her hand to the cordial at her waist and prayed that there would be no need for it. But she had the strangest sensation that her prayers would go unanswered, that someone would come close to death before this was over.
The waiting, she reflected as Philip's lurching motion made her wince in discomfort, was the worst part of it. It was a long way to the Stone Table, and no matter how quickly they travelled, she knew it was still not fast enough. Edmund was already there, as was the Bat and the rest of the Fell Beast army. Would they arrive in time, or would it be too late…
No.
She forced the thought away, refusing to even contemplate the idea. It was too much, and she just… if Edmund was dead…
She wouldn't be able to live with it. They had lost him once, they would not survive losing him again.
Time passed, although she lost sense of it. The forest fell away into plains, long stretches of monotony broken only by the occasional outcropping of rocks amidst the tufted grass. It could have been forever, or maybe only a few minutes, and then the land sloped upwards and trees appeared once more. And then, with a cry of fury and fear, Peter was charging ahead, and Lucy watched as they crashed through the last of the underbrush and emerged at the Stone Table.
The scene before her made her cringe with a inexplicable fear and disgust. The Fell Beasts had all lined up in rows before the Stone Table, separating themselves down the middle to form a single path. Edmund's body lay on the Table, still and unmoving, and standing over him was the Bat, wings outstretched as though in some strange sort of ritual. Several Harpies were screeching indecipherable words to the sky, and a single Minotaur stood at the front of the assembled Creatures, a long silver knife held in his hands.
It was some sort of ceremony, that much Lucy could tell. It was barbaric, animalistic, savage. But it was also powerful, and the air around them seemed to actually hum with a strange sort of magic.
As one, the Fell Beasts turned in surprise to find the Narnian army breaking into their ranks, and the ceremony was quickly forgotten in the instinctual need to survive. A battle broke out, and Lucy slid from Philip's back and landed easily on her feet, the dagger clutched tightly in her hand.
There was no time to think. Lucy was moving without comprehending what she was doing, slicing her dagger back and forth without much understanding for movements. Creatures fell about her, stained with blood, and sweat mattered her hair. But she saw none of it, and instead pushed forward, towards Edmund.
He was so still. His body was sprawled awkwardly across the stone slab, and his eyes were shut tight against the light of the day. As Lucy drew nearer, she saw the Bat rise up into the air and dive towards Edmund, obviously intent on taking its prey far away from the fighting.
Lucy reacted instantly, the dagger leaving her hand and flying through the air with unmistakable accuracy. The Bat gave a frenzied cry and fell heavily to the stone, collapsing over Edmund, the hilt of Lucy's dagger protruding from its chest.
She scrambled to the Table, dimly aware of hoof-beats behind her. Philip, she knew, would not leave her alone, not now that the Horse had been entrusted with her life, and she felt just a little bit safer.
She knelt beside Edmund, brushing the hair out of his face. He was breathing unsteadily, his chest rising and falling with an uneven rhythm. His face was pale, gray, his lips devoid of all color. But it was the pain in his expression, the unbearable agony, that tore at Lucy's heart.
She reached for her cordial, wondering if it would wake him. Did it work on wounds that were not made of flesh and blood?
"Your Majesty! Look out!"
Philip's cry of warning came just in time to force her out of the way of the attack, she rolled sideways, ducking her head as a spear passed through the air above her and clattered harmlessly off the stone. She lifted her eyes the hulking figure of the Minotaur that stood above her. He was wearing an expression of grim triumph, and though his spear had missed his target, he reached for the club tied to his waste and advanced on her, ready to kill.
Lucy caught sight of Peter, who had turned in alarm at Philip's cry. He opened his mouth to call out something, an order to the soldiers to come to Lucy's aid most likely, but he need not have worried. Before the words had even left his lips, several of the archers who remained at the outskirts of the battle had let loose a volley of arrows, and the Minotaur fell before he could even begin another attack on the young Queen.
The slain Bat still lay partially on top of her brother, and Lucy angrily shoved the Animal away, freeing Edmund's trapped legs. Philip stood over her, protective and worried, a look of fierce loyalty in his eyes.
"We need to get him away from here," Lucy said breathlessly, fear gripping tightly around her heart.
"I'll still find him."
Lucy froze, hand outstretched towards Edmund, hovering in midair above his chest. Though Peter, Susan, and Edmund had all witnessed the strange and almost unexplainable rise of the Witch's phantom, Lucy had yet to see Jadis standing before her, looking so alive, so vividly real. So powerful.
But there she was, a few feet behind Edmund, smirking down at the two siblings with a look both victorious and disdainful.
"You are not real," Lucy said firmly, tearfully. "You are not real!"
"Such a pointless refrain, child. Your brother says the same. He thinks that by repeating those words he will somehow make them true. But I am real."
"You cannot hurt me," Lucy whispered.
"I already have."
Lucy looked down at Edmund's still form, praying to Aslan that he would wake soon. She did not know what magic held him firmly trapped in his subconscious, but she could tell from the way his eyes were clenched tightly as his face twisted in pain that whatever he was experiencing was not pleasant.
Jadis was right. She had already succeeded in hurting them. More than once.
"So why do you still fight, little Queen? There is no one here to stop me. You cannot win."
Lucy glanced around, trying to find Aslan. He had left Cair Paravel with them, but at some point during their race to the Stone Table, He had seemingly faded away. She had not questioned it at the time, too caught up in her worries about Edmund and satisfied by her own faithful belief that He was doing what was best, that He was somehow helping them.
But now His absence was frightening. They needed Him. How else could they defeat the Witch?
The Valiant Queen looked at Jadis again and said with more bravery than she felt, "You might have found a way to cheat death, but you have no power in the physical world. I can take Edmund now, and you would not be able to stop me."
"No, but she could."
Jadis' words were just enough of a warning for Lucy to turn, once again, and stare in horror at the Hag that approached her, wearing an expression of triumph. The Hag's eyes, an unearthly yellow, fixed on Lucy as a thin silver dagger appeared clenched in long fingers.
Lucy scrambled to her feet and yanked her dagger from the Bat's chest. Spinning once more, she faced the approaching Hag, Philip coming to her side.
But before Lucy or Philip could act, the Hag gave a screech, the noise coming to a gurgling halt in the base of her throat as she fell face-forward on the Stone Table, a familiar red-tufted arrow protruding from her back.
Lucy lifted her gaze to see Susan, riding on Aslan's back, appear at the edge of the clearing, her bow clutched tightly in her hands.
Aslan's appearance turns the tide against the Fell Beasts, but the battle of wills between Edmund and Jadis becomes deadly and the Deep Magic finally claims its victims in Chapter Twenty-One: Twenty-Four (part two).