AN: Hope you enjoy the chapter.
Shortly before the night of the feast at the Telmarine border finally arrived, Peter finished working on the golden dress. He had taken in the waist so that it wouldn't hang too loosely and had altered the old-fashioned train into something a little more modern and less like something one of Edmund's great great grandmothers probably wore at their wedding. It was something of a rush job and some of the edges had been left a little raw but it was truly impressive all the same.
On the night of the feast, Susan changed out of her plain black frock and slipped on an embroidered, satin undershirt for the first time since Peter had fallen ill and she had become a nursemaid. Then she slid on the dress, feeling the soft curtain of gold falling over her for a moment before she pulled it all the way down and smoothed it out. She didn't dare look in the mirror. She was a little too afraid of what she might see. Would the beauty that had she had always had forced upon her be there to greet her after so long or had being a nursemaid finally taken its toll? She wasn't even sure what it was she wanted to see. Part of her longed, as it always had, to look for once in her life like an ordinary girl-not something to be gaped at but another part of her was nervous about the desired change. Would the prince still listen to her if she was plain-looking? Or would being beautiful finally have an advantage?
Continuing to avoid looking at her reflection, Susan reached for the mask and slippers Edmund had loaned her. The slippers were copper-coloured and made of soft felt and leather; it had two fake-gold beads hanging off of lacy white woven threads in the front like moccasins. They were a mite too big (Edmund's grandmother must have had larger feet than she did) but she took scraps of cloth that Peter hadn't been able to re-use on the dress when he'd taken it in and used them to stuff the shoes so that they wouldn't fall off. Next, the mask-which was white-gold with little pearls and crystals along the edges. It was the perfect size, from the start of her hairline all the way to the bridge of her nose, covering at least half of her cheeks as well. Now what? She had it all on now, better go see what the others thought.
Lucy and Tumnus were already in Peter's bed chamber standing around waiting for her to arrive. When the door cracked open and they caught their first glimpse of her, they were so stunned that they nearly forgot to breathe. They had fully expected the old pre-nursemaid Susan to stroll in looking no more striking than usual-the sort of beauty they had once been used to; but the girl they were thinking of was not the one who entered the room. The young woman who stood before them dressed up for the feast was like no one they had never seen before. Elegant, softly-curling silky dark locks framed a sugar-white face hidden behind a glittering mask catching every bit of light available in the closed-curtained chamber. Her chin wasn't trembling with fear, it stood still and proud as if she really was a foreign nobility on a mission and her lips pursed out apathetically as if waiting for a signal before showing any sign of emotion.
"She looks like a queen." Lucy sighed dreamily, quickly forgetting that her stepsister disliked being complimented on her looks.
"She looks like a fairy or an angel." Tumnus added, unable to believe this was the same little girl he had tutored in music and philosophy nearly all her life.
Peter was the last to speak. Finally, in a soft whisper, he uttered, "She looks like mother."
A single tear escaped from Susan's right eye and dripped out the side of her mask. "No I don't." She spoke in English because it was the language they told her to speak to Caspian in so he didn't suspect she was Narnian. Even though Narnians had descended from Englishmen, most Telmarines were not aware of that since many people from the areas around Ettinsmoor and Archenland spoke it, too.
Peter called her over to his bedside. "You do look like her, it's true, you needn't deny it; But you are stronger than she was, Susan. You wont give up, I've never been so proud of you."
More tears slid out the bottom of her mask now as she leaned close to him and he hugged her tightly. A sob escaped. She couldn't hold off anymore, she was still terrified. Not only of herself and her own insecurities, but also of so much more. She hated the idea of failing Narnia; yet, it was the thought of failing her brother-failing him the same way her mother had-that scared her. What if she wasn't strong enough to keep on keeping her word? What if she became nothing more than a liar? What if Narnia didn't escape the Telmarine attack? Would she feel like ending it all? Was she really as strong as he believed? What if Caspian didn't want to listen to her? What if Miraz...oh, Aslan, she couldn't think of that now, she had to be brave. She had to do this.
"I have something for you." Peter told her, pulling away and reaching for a small bundle had hidden under one of his pillows. He put his fingertips to it and unwrapped it slowly, revealing Maugrim's collar-wreath. "Consider it a finishing touch." Flipping it over so that the points faced upwards, he placed the glittering silver-and-gold circlet on her head like a crown. "Perfect."
"Oh!" Exclaimed Tumnus and Lucy at the same time. Maugrim had been right after all; the collar had come in handy.
"I think you'll have to look at yourself now." Peter lifted his chin and motioned over at the mirror on the other side of the room.
Susan took a deep breath and peered into the looking-glass. A beautiful, stately lady, dressed like royalty with blue eyes which were somehow enhanced by the garland resting upon her head, stared back at her. She was still beautiful but there was something different about this girl. She didn't really look like the frightened child Peter had rescued from the canal or the bitter young lass whom he had tutored and looked after-teaching her all the ways of the world without forcing her to step into it, until now. This was someone new. When exactly this new person had come into existence, Susan wasn't sure, all she knew was that the new lady was here now. She was here now and it was up to her to save Narnia.
Still, she needed one little bit of reassurance; Susan reached up and touched the little scar Maugrim had left her with. It was still there, her one and only beloved flaw. Right in the middle of the top of the mask and one little loose diamond hanging off of the wreath. Ever so gently, she reached up with her pinky finger and stroked it slowly as if caressing a tiny newborn kitten. She was ready now. Ready to face the Telmarines. Ready to face her fellow Narnians. Ready to face Prince Caspian. Ready to face Miraz himself if she had to-she thought although she shuddered inwardly remembering what he had done to her. Ready even, she decided, to face herself-the one she had always had the hardest time forgiving.
"You'll only have to walk as far as 'The Lion's Den'." Peter told his sister now. "There'll be a carriage waiting for you there. Tumnus has arranged it all."
Susan nodded, her voice felt caught up in her throat and she suddenly wasn't sure if she could make herself speak at all, never mind tell the Telmarine prince-in English no less-of the evil that was going to be brought upon her people. She felt like she was on a child's play-ride going up and down. One moment, she felt strong and brave-knowing at last that she could do this. The next, she wanted to cry even though she still felt sort of brave anyhow.
"I say, Lady Lucy, what is it?" Tumnus asked, turning to her suddenly remembering that Susan was not the only young lady in the room. "You look so distant."
As it was, Lucy was thinking about what Edmund had asked her to do. Meet him in the back meadow if the answer to his proposal was yes. She already knew exactly what her answer would be, she had known since the first, she simply had had to put it out of her mind for a while in order to work on the plan for saving Narnia with the others. Now it was almost over; she might have figured that Susan was independent enough to get ready on her own-she had never even in her most helpless years been that kind of lady but being there for moral support was important, too.
"Nothing, Tumnus." Lucy said quickly, deciding to let him deal with one problem at a time. She thought of telling Peter what she planned to do as soon as Susan left but decided against that as well. There would be time for that later, when Narnia was out of danger, now she would have to keep that little nugget of information to herself. In this Narnian, twilight-lit evening full of secrets, she would have one of her own. Besides, the less people who knew about, the less people who could accidentally tell her mother who would surely put a stop to it at once.
Both Tumnus and Peter were sure there really was something on her mind but let it slide for the moment, managing to convince themselves that it might just be nervousness over their plan that was making her so quiet and fidgety as she stood in the corner of the chamber, slipping into the shadows just as Susan stepped out from them.
Not bothering to worry about wrinkling her dress, Susan hugged each one of them goodbye. She embraced Lucy last and told her that they were switching rolls in life only for that one night.
"When the morning dawns," She whispered softly, so low that only Lucy could hear her even though the other two were still in close ear-shot. "I'll be the nursemaid again and you'll be back to being the lady of the house."
Maybe not, Lucy thought, maybe when morning dawns you'll be a heroine admired and loved by everyone in all of Narnia and I'll be the wife of the younger scholarly swordsman.
"It's a good thing you don't lisp on your Ws anymore, isn't it Su?" Peter teased with a faint twinkle in his eye as if trying to reassure his sister-and himself for that matter-that everything was going to be alright in the end.
Susan shook her head and gave him a half-smile. "Peter Pevensie!"
Then she turned to leave, taking on last look over her left shoulder at the three sweet, encouraging faces peering back at her; eager to hold on to her and keep her safe but loving enough to know that they had to let her go now.
Peter thought, as he caught one last glimpse of his sister before she vanished from the doorway, that if he was still feeling well, he might like to draw a scene like this. A drawing of the new Susan, a reflection of their mother with the courage to mold that image into whatever she wanted it to be-whatever she needed it to be. The dress would be drawn with sun-coloured pencils and the face blurred and smudged, half-hidden in the doorway to symbolize the mask she wore. There would be shadows but these would be her friends, not the demons that had clung to her for so long.
When she was gone, Lucy walked out of the chamber, too. She knew what she had to do now. Crawling along behind at a snail pace, she noticed Helen sitting in a chair with her eyes closed, snoring and breathing heavily in her sleep. Susan had crept by her without notice but Lucy tripped over a half-packed suitcase that rested at her mother's feet and woke her up by mistake.
"Lucy!" Helen scolded irritably, sitting up straighter in the chair as she glared at her daughter. "I swear, it's like you were born with two left feet sometimes."
"Sorry." Lucy muttered, trying to keep on walking passed her.
"Where are you going?" Helen demanded.
"Um..." It wasn't as if she could simply say, 'Well, mum, you remember that boy you don't like? The one who taught me sword fighting and ripped open my dress and wrote me all those secret letters, the ones addressed to Susan that I never told you about? Digory's grandson? No? Well anyway, I'm going to meet him in the back meadow and tell him that I want to spend the rest of my life with him. I probably wont be back before dark, alright?' She had to think of something but being a very honest girl by nature made coming up with lies and excuses sort of difficult, especially having to do so off the top of her head. "I just need to...uh..." She stammered and pointed randomly down one end of the hallway. "Go there...I, um...need to...do...a thing..."
Helen shook her head. "Never mind that now, whatever it is. I have to remind you of something that is going to save our lives, it's very important so listen up."
Lucy rolled her eyes and crinkled her forehead. What in the world was her mother going on about now? Did she have a plan to save the Narnians, too? That didn't seem like Helen at all. Had she suddenly had something of a change of heart?
"Remember, child, You were young, only perhaps eight or nine so perhaps you don't recall, we came from Ettinsmoor. We are not true Narnians, they wont kill us, only your stepfather and stepbrother and probably your stepsister, too."
Now that sounded more like the mother Lucy had come to know as her own as of late. Cruel and cold and not caring about anyone besides herself. Hadn't she snatched at her claim to Narnian citizenship when it was to her advantage? Now she clung to the fact that she was from Ettinsmoor in order to save her own skin, not caring even what happened to her own husband and stepchildren.
If I hadn't been in Ettinsmoor with her, Lucy realized-not without a ball of anger forming in the pit of her stomach, she wouldn't have even mentioned this to me. She wouldn't have bothered with me at all, not concerned about whether or not I live or die.
"If we start packing tonight, maybe we can leave in a few days...get ourselves to safety before the Telmarines come...let me think, I could take a few of those gold candle holders and sell them...technically those are part of Susan's dowry but it wont do her any good when she's dead and I'm sure we could sell them for about..." She did some calculations in her head and then got confused, counted on her fingers and sighed deeply. "I'll work that out later, I suppose. In the meantime, you should pack some dresses, Lucy. And a cape, it might be cold." She paused and looked down at the wedding band on her ring finger. "I could sell this, too."
Completely disgusted by her mother's latest display of intense selfishness, Lucy clenched her jaw, swallowed and finally came up with an excuse. "I'm going out to gather up some of the flowers in the meadow before it's too late."
Helen wrinkled up her nose. "Flowers?"
"Please?" Lucy forced her expression to soften a little. "If we must go, I'll take some with me to remember this place by." What she was really thinking was that if Edmund hadn't proposed, she would have said over her dead body would she leave Peter, Susan, Tumnus, and Lord Pevensie in such a heartless way.
"We'll have plenty of things with us." Helen told her sharply, waving off her request.
"But you're going to sell those." Lucy protested, tossing her head up a little, hoping it made her look somewhat like her mother for a moment so that Helen might let her go.
"The stupid weeds will just die." Helen huffed, unmoved.
"Mum, please!" Lucy pleaded with her hands pressed together.
"Five minutes." Helen said finally, getting tired of arguing with her daughter and wanting her to get to work packing already. "And be sure you don't do something stupid like picking up a pile of poisoned ivy in the dark as likely as not."
Lucy nodded. She thought of saying, "I'll be right back." but she didn't, knowing that wasn't at all true. She quickly rushed away down the stairs and out the back door, heading for the meadow.
Meanwhile, Edmund stood-with only the talking horse, Phillip, for company (the knight he used to stick by had been killed in the raid and he had become something of a companion for Edmund as of lately)-in one of the meadows small clearings. The sun had set, purple had turned to black, little stars shone brightly. The crickets came out and so did the fireflies buzzing all around the near-by trees.
Edmund blinked back tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes. He had known this might happen but he had hoped it wouldn't. Susan was probably already on the way to that feast with the Telmarines now and Lucy was probably on her way to bed-she wasn't coming. Her answer was no.
He turned to mount Phillip and ride back to his grandfather's home. "She's not coming, let's go back."
"I'm sorry, Sir Edmund." Phillip hung his head sympathetically.
Edmund stuck his foot in the stirrup. "So am I."
AN: What will happen next? You'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out; in the meantime, please review!