Chapter 35

In Which Hearts Are Broken

"How is she?"

The doctor, a grizzly Dwarf whom Edmund recognized as belonging to the army back in the days of Beruna, drew him further away from the door of small cabin he'd just emerged from. When he finally spoke it was in hushed tones, as if ashamed of what he divulged.

"I don't like it, Sire. Not one bit. Between the pneumonia, the wounds and the magic…I can't say I know how she still lives."

Edmund bit his lower lip and took a step back to peer inside the cracked door. His older brother was in the same position he'd been in since he'd carried his wife onto the ship and deposited her on the bed two days ago: kneeling, holding her hands, eyes fixed desperately on her face. Edmund could see his lips moving in soundless prayer. With a sad sigh he shut the door, feeling his brother's pain, yet not knowing the depth.

"I know what keeps her here."

OoOoOo

Aslan, help her to hang on. Please. Speed up the ship. Get us home quickly. Oh Aslan, I need her. Don't let her die. Please. Don't let her die. Bring her back to me. Please Aslan…

It was his repeated litany, words tumbling over and over in his head, sometimes spilling from his lips, over and over again until it wasn't so much the words he was winging to Aslan, but his desperation, his fear, his need.

After she'd collapsed in his arms and he'd realized she was, in fact, alive it had only taken them minutes to decide she needed to go back to Narnia and Lucy's cordial. Unfortunately it had taken longer for it to be safe for her to cross the treacherous sea. Between waiting for the storm to die down and waiting for a vessel to be readied, Peter felt for sure that he would lose his mind. Finally, just at dawn, the storm had subsided. The water was still choppy, but it was sailable. He sent birds ahead of them, telling Lucy to get on a ship as soon as possible and to meet them halfway.

While they were waiting, doctors had bound her wounds and sewn up her gashes as best they could. The entire time she'd opened her eyes only once, but groans had escaped her lips that tore at Peter's heart. Somewhere in the midst of dressing her wounds, she had begun to shake with chills and the cough he'd come to hate ravaged her lungs. The doctors immediately diagnosed her with pneumonia and had forced a concoction down her throat to help. However, they hadn't known how to treat the magical wounds. The only signs of the magic were rashes on her skin, but the doctors feared that beneath the skin the magic was, to quote the Red Dwarf "doin' a number on her innards." They had done their best to get her warm, dressing her in a flannel nightdress and wrapping her in thick blankets and she eventually stopped shaking.

It seemed too much. He felt that it was impossible for so much to go wrong so quickly. He kept wishing that she would sit up and start laughing at how she'd fooled them all. But she didn't and with each minute his fear heightened a little more.

OoOoOo

She fought the fog that clouded her mind and threatened to take over her body. Her eyelids felt as though ten pound bags of flour rested upon them. It was so cold and she was so tired. From far away, she heard someone calling her name. She tried to open her eyes, but oh! the light hurt. The darkness was nice and quiet and as she eased herself into it, the pain subsided just the tiniest bit. Whoever was calling for her was getting farther and farther away. She thought briefly that the voice sounded familiar, but she just couldn't place it. Besides, it was growing fainter, less urgent. She decided that perhaps, whoever it was didn't need her so badly, and she let the darkness claim her.

OoOoOo

Pain! Searing pain!

She was jerked from the arms of darkness and into a pain that flooded her being from all directions. It sent the darkness and fog into remission and for the briefest of moments she remembered everything. Her eyes flew open and she gasped. Blue eyes bright with emotion swam before her and they made the pain more bearable. Her eyelids fluttered and the pain began to ebb as she lapsed gratefully into the darkness. Just before she was lost to the world, she heard the faintest of voices whispering her name, but she ignored it.

OoOoOo

She became aware of things in slow phases. First was the pain. Her entire body was laced with it, although it wasn't the awful searing pain she remembered. This was a persistent throbbing that permeated her being and sent her mind spinning. It felt as if she was on fire within and it was almost unbearable. Not only did she ache from what seemed to be a million wounds to her body, but the very blood flowing through her veins brought her pain. It took her a long time to get past the incredible pain and reach even further into consciousness.

Slowly, so slowly, she became aware of other things. She felt herself breathing, though each breath was painful. She felt something beneath her shifting, remembering the sensation from another time, but not remembering what the sensation was. And then there were the sounds. She became acutely aware of noise, for each pounded at her brain like a hammer into wood. There was the sound of the wind moaning, the creaking of floors, Peter's steady breathing as he slept.

Peter. His name made her happy and seemed to ease the pain. If he was sleeping it was probably terribly late. He never got to bed early. She smiled as she began to drift back into the darkness. Peter would wake her in the morning. With that thought comforting her, she submitted to the darkness.

A lion's roar shattered everything.

Her eyes flew open and she immediately squeezed the shut, a groan escaping her lips. Peter's head flew up and their sleepy, blinking eyes met. He stared at her almost in disbelief and she smiled, her dry lips cracking, the muscles in her face protesting with vengeance.

"Hullo," she whispered, her voice rough after so long a silence.

Tears filled his eyes and overflowed to his cheeks. His hands gently squeezed hers.

"I was so afraid for you," he whispered, pressing a kiss into each palm.

"I'm sorry…" she murmured, trying to squeeze his hand back, but failing rather miserably.

"No, don't be. You're back now. We're headed towards Narnia now and Lucy is on her way with her cordial and when we meet in the middle you'll be good as new. You'll see. And you will stay with me forever and they will sing of us in ballads in a million years. Everything's right now."

She didn't respond right away. Her only sign that she'd even heard him was a slow nod and a faint smile. She had never felt this weak before, it was an all consuming task just to keep her eyes focused upon his face. Still, she didn't want him to know.

"We're at sea?"

"Aye and we should meet with Lucy before the week is out. About four days."

"Where are the others?"

Peter gave a start, remembering that everyone else who would want to know she was awake. He kissed her hands again and hurried to the door.

"Ed! Edmund! Bring Rhoswen and the doctor quickly! She's awake!"

The small room was soon bustling with people. Rhoswen was there, of course, along with Edmund (they'd left the others in Terebinthia to keep things under control). Then there were two doctors, one the Narnian Dwarf and the other a Terebinthian. They brought with them their assistants and a nurse. There was so much hubbub that the three non-medical personal were thrown out of the room for the time being.

Peter and Edmund were celebrating, clapping each other on the back and grinning like idiots. Rhoswen smiled, but it was half-hearted. She didn't join in their celebration, nor did the light that had vanished from her pale eyes when she'd seen her niece collapse return. Her mood soon brought the two kings back to the ground.

"What is it?" Peter questioned.

Rhoswen made no show of false pretenses. Her eyes were pained as she spoke.

"I've known that child her entire life. Her joy has been my joy and her sorrow my sorrow. Every pain that she has felt I have felt just as acutely. I tell you, Kings of Narnia, she is not right. For that reason, I am afraid."

Peter froze and the hand that was on his brother's shoulder clung to his tunic desperately. His eyes met Edmund's and they were pleading with him for reassurance. They spoke to his brother as loudly as his voice would have: She's lying. She doesn't know what she's talking about. Tell her she's wrong. Edmund bit his lip, unable to do as his brother wanted. Peter's hand dropped from his brother's shoulder and hung limply at his side. Anything he was about to say was cut off when the two doctor's emerged from the cabin.

Since the other two seemed afraid to ask, Edmund took the initiative.

"Well?"

"You Majesties, my Lady..." The Terebinthian didn't seem to be able to continue.

"She's dying, my King," the Dwarf said in a manner that was as gentle as a Dwarf could be.

Rhoswen's eyes closed and she swayed. Peter's entire body shook collectively as all the air left him. Edmund put a hand on a shoulder of each one, steadying them gently.

"You're sure?"

"She speaks of fatigue and pain. Her pulse is weak and she had difficulty breathing..."

Peter left them in the midst of the doctor's list, pushing through them and their aides to get to the door. Both doctor's appeared alarmed, but Edmund kept them from stopping him.

"He will cause her no harm. She needs him just as much as he needs her. Now, is there anything we can do to make her more comfortable?"

OoOoOo

Fae was lying motionless on the bed, her eyes closed.

"Did she...?"

"Just resting, your Majesty," the nurse stated, calming him.

"Leave us then."

"But..."

"Now." Peter said, without looking at her.

She nodded and slipped out of the cabin. Peter walked to his wife's side and knelt. She looked at him through heavily lidded eyes.

"Peter..."

"Shhh. You rest. You need to save your strength."

"Peter...listen...to me."

"I don't think I'll like what you have to say."

"I'm trying...my love. Truly...I am. I want to...be strong...for you...But... I'm afraid...I think I'm...dying..."

"No! Don't be! You're going to be fine." His breathing grew ragged, but he held his tears at bay. "Don't you dare talk like that."

She took a deep breath and winced at the pain. Rhoswen saved her from speaking. She slipped through the door on silent feet and moved to rest her hand on his shoulder.

"High King Peter, you must rest."

"I'm not tired."

"Peter, I need just a minute with her."

Peter realized how selfish he was being and nodded. He brushed a kiss against her forehead and stood to leave. As he left, Rhoswen took his spot and he heard the beginning of Fae's first goodbye. He felt as if he were being hit with a thousand fists as it sank in that she was actually in danger of dying. He then rushed from the room, throwing himself through the door and right into Edmund. He looked into his brother's eyes and seeing the love and pain that was reflected in them, lost control.

"Oh Ed..." he sobbed, clutching his younger brother for dear life.

Edmund could do nothing but wrap his arms around Peter and offer him his own strength. His brother responded by hanging onto him tighter and gripping the back of his tunic like it was a lifeline. It was not too long before Edmund's tunic was rather soaked with tears. Edmund did what he could, stroking his brother's hair and murmuring soft words, but to no avail. Finally, Peter spoke into Edmund's shoulder:

"Ed, I'm so afraid. I can't live without her. I just can't."

"I know. I know, Peter. I know."

He knew that he truly didn't know; may never know, but he knew his brother's pain, and that was enough. So he held him all the tighter, not knowing what else to do. Thankfully, he didn't need to do more for Rhoswen had quietly slipped from the cabin, her face tearstained.

"She's asking for you. Both of you."

Peter straightened and wiped away the remnant of his tears. Edmund smoothed his tunic and then gently clasped Rhoswen's shoulder. She looked at him and her eyes pierced his soul. He remembered someone else looking at him like that...The same hurt, the same pain...Someone he'd loved very much...He didn't remember who had given him such a look, or when.

Fae smiled faintly upon seeing them come in. She was slightly propped up on pillows and nearly looked alert. Peter was at her side in an instant, caressing her hands, brushing hair from her face and the like. Edmund hung back, not wanting to interrupt. She would have none of it.

"Edmund."

He inwardly winced at the sound of her voice, not realizing that she was so bad. He put on a smile and came to stand behind Peter. Their eyes met over the High King's head and he knew that she was telling him goodbye.

"Ed...take care of him for me...You and I...we have the same heart...in regards...to him... Don't let him mourn...too long..." He raked a hand through his hair, discomfited by the tone of this conversation. "And Edmund...tell the girls...tell them how...much I love them both...and how much...I wanted to tell them...myself...Promise me?"

"I do."

"And Ed...you...are a brother...to my heart..."

He smiled softly. "And you a sister to mine." He knelt beside Peter and squeezed her hand. "I'll leave you now."

She and Peter (who'd not spoken yet) watched him leave. When the door had closed behind him, she turned her eyes upon his face and began to cry for the first time. Peter's eyes widened in alarm and he reached for her, cradling her face in his hands.

"What's wrong? Should I call for the doctor? What can I do?"

"No...not the doctor..." She sighed, struggling to regain control, but tears still seeped from her eyes.

"What is it then?" he asked, trying to wipe her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. "Tell me."

She gazed upon him with stricken eyes:

"I don't want...to die...Peter...I'm... I'm frightened...I don't want...want to be... without you..." She began to sob.

Tears filled his eyes once again and he struggled to regain the ability to breathe. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers and they cried together, their tears running together on her face. They stayed like that until both their tears subsided. He kissed her forehead and pulled away. She fought against the all-consuming tiredness and ignored the pain, and instead focused on his face.

"I love you so..."she whispered.

He could not reply for all the emotion that was caught in his throat.

"You'll be...alright...without me..." she stated softly. He jerked away from her as if he'd been slapped.

"No! No, I will not. You are everything! I love you...I need you. I can't live without you. Please don't make me. I can't do it. Fae, my darling Fae...I just can't."

She exhaled and closed her eyes. She was so still for so long that Peter began to panic. As if she knew he was about to cry out, she opened her eyes.

" My Peter...my sweet...magnificent Peter...How I love you...But...you have to...to let me go..." He turned his head from her. She clutched his hand tightly. "Peter...I will be with you...forever...Do not tell me...I live not...in your heart..."He slowly turned his eyes back to hers. "We will...be together...again. It's just...temporary...Please...don't be angry...Please...It hurts more...more than anything..."

Hurt and anguished tears poured from beneath his closed eyes. After an eternity he nodded, his body a picture of defeat.

"Thank you..." she whispered.

Minutes passed until the minutes had turned into an hour, then an hour and a half. They both sat in silence, the specter of death hanging over them. Finally, after far too long a silence, she spoke:

"Peter...hold me..."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"It hurts more...not being in...in your arms."

He stood and gently lifted her from the bed clothes, taking extreme care not to jar her. He held her like a baby as he sat upon the bed, his back against the wall, his wife cradled in his arms. She did not cry out, though the pain of movement was excruciating. He arranged the pillows so they supported her back as well as his arm. When they finally settled, she was breathless with pain and the room was spinning. She buried her face in his chest to make it stop. His heart beat in her ears and his breath caressed her hair and the warmth of his arms finally filled her with peace.

When the pain had somewhat subsided and the room and ceased its spinning, she pulled her head away from him. It took all her strength to lift her hand and pull his face towards her. Their last kiss was the sweetest, most painful, most wonderful, most terrible thing either of them had ever felt. When they finally pulled away from each other, both knew there was no need for anymore words. Soon they fell asleep in each other's arms, both utterly exhausted.

Hours later, he woke to hear her whisper his name with her last breath. She died just as the sun burst forth over the suddenly still sea.