Chapter Seventeen: Connections

There was nothing short of fanfare when Peter arrived back at Anvard. A dark sort of fanfare, a dark cloud had settled over what used to be an otherwise, peaceful kingdom. Susan, Edmund, Lucy, and Caspian knew something had happened the second the sounds of the horses' hooves rattling against the cobblestone that lined the path leading up to the castle. It wasn't the usual, plodding pace of the horses and the carriage that was slowly coming to a stop, not wanting to jostle the precious and royal cargo inside.

The frantic beating of the cobblestone bounced off the castle walls, audible from inside the great hallway. It was then overcome by the sound of frantic shouting, of the knights and servants that hurried to calm the horses and the shouts of, "The king is injured!"

Brielle had been getting Susan and Lucy ready for the day, overseeing the servants drawing a bath for the two—all the while sitting on Susan's bed, taking turns of brushing their hair as they gossiped quietly when they heard the commotion coming from the courtyard. Lucy immediately frowned and slid off the bed, hurrying to the window. She leaned out of it, her reddish-brown hair flying around from the wind—a foreboding wind?—that blew outside. She leaned back and turned to her sister and friend, murmuring, "I knew it," under her breath.

Susan lifted her head and looked to her sister curiously. "Knew what?" She asked slowly.

"Can't you feel it?" Lucy asked. Susan and Brielle exchanged glances, shaking their heads. "Can't you feel this sort of…darkness over everything?" Again, she got blank stares in reply, making Lucy sigh quietly. "I guess I'm the only one taking this seriously."

"Taking what seriously, Lu?" Susan sounded, almost, annoyed. As if she was ready for a ludicrous explanation of something, or the pleading to play a game of some sort.

"Our predictions!"

Even Brielle looked at Lucy as if she were crazy. "Oh, you didn't think that was serious, did you?" She shook her head, brushing her hair back from her face. "That was just a game. We were at a carnival." She shook her head and picked up a brush, running it through Susan's hair once more. She gritted her teeth, yanking the brush through a kink in Susan's hair, jerking her head to the side. Susan whipped around and glared at her, making Brielle smile sweetly in response. "Dulcea can't really predict the future."

"Bri," Lucy said patiently. Almost as if talking to a child. "This is Narnia, we've seen some of the strangest things that not anyone in our old life would ever believe. And you don't believe Dulcea can tell the future?"

Brielle shrugged. Lucy had a point.

When Brielle had returned to her home, it surprised her to know that almost not time had passed between her falling through her bathtub and washing up on the beach. Surprised her even more when she'd decided to take the time when the others went on their search of the White Stag to take the time to take a swim on the beach.

Imagine her surprise when she went from being an older woman to breaking the surface and being reverted to her teen self, with her mother pounding on the bathroom door, yelling at her to turn off the bath water as it rolled over the rim and spilled to the floor. Almost as if everything had been a dream and she was only waking up once more.

The loss hadn't hit her immediately, only rearing its head a few days later when she found herself suddenly feeling a strong pang in her chest that reduced her to gut wrenching sobs. Not only for her lost life, but for her lost friends. They were living somewhere in the countryside; they'd explained that much to her as they traversed through Narnia within their first few days there.

How was she supposed to be able to find them again? Especially with what they'd later know as 'the Blitz' was going on. Communication was almost non-existent and being ripped away from what felt like home—twice—was more than she could bare. But she pushed it aside, didn't bring it up to anyone, had her memories of her time in Narnia…until the next year when she went to the train station to catch a train to her boarding school and suddenly saw Susan across the street, trying to keep her attention away from a boy who clearly was smitten with her.

"I'm not saying I don't believe it," Susan said slowly, carefully. She knew what would happen if she questioned Lucy's feelings of Narnia and the 'magic' that surrounded it. Last time, Edmund had really been proven wrong, and she didn't want to have the same egg on her face. "I'm just saying that there's always an explanation for something."

"Then how do you explain Narnia?" Lucy asked pointedly.

Susan paused, parting her lips for a moment. Then she shook her head, making Lucy's lips draw back into what was a cross between a smirk and a smile. Narnia was indescribable, was unable to be reasoned. Brielle could only imagine what Susan's teachers would've thought had she gone back to her school and tried to explain the existence of another world that had no explanation to how it existed. Especially when Susan was always so logical.

"Do you hear that?" Lucy then demanded, gesturing toward the sounds coming from the courtyard. She was across the room and to the door in a flash. "Something's happened."

Brielle's heart hammered in her chest so hard she thought Susan and Lucy could hear it. But neither of them turned her way. Instead, she pulled up the skirts of her dress and followed Susan and Lucy as they headed toward the front gate. They ran into Edmund and Caspian on the way.

"What's going on?" Edmund asked, brown eyes wide at the commotion that was going on, servants rushing back and forth as the front doors were opened wide, allowing a draft in. Then he looked out toward the carriage that was arriving. "That's Peter's carriage!"

Caspian raced forward, pushing his way through to the front along with the rest of the Pevensies. Brielle hung back, not just out of respect for the royals, but so that she could watch from afar. She chewed her lower lip, watching as the servants and knights, brought the carriage to a stop, comforting the horses whose eyes were wide, the whites only showing.

Lucy reached out and rubbed the sides of the horses while Caspian and Edmund went to the side of the carriage and wrenched the door open. All at once, Peter was carefully lifted and taken out of the carriage with the Archenland knights that had gone with him to Cair Paravel's restoration.

Across the courtyard, Brielle locked eyes with Silas as he stood nearby the carriage, watching closely, his hands placed behind his back. It wouldn't be too strange if he were to give counsel to King Nain afterwards. If there was anyone waiting by the carriage or within the castle walls that were ready to stage a coup, it was important that the royals stayed inside.

"Peter!" Susan gasped, seeing her brother's head loll back as he was hefted into the knight's arms. She turned a steely gaze to those that were the knight's guards. "What happened to him?" She demanded. "There's more than enough men here to have ensured that he stayed protected while going to back to Cair Paravel! The restoration project is commonly known around Narnia, you should've known there was a chance for someone to take advantage."

"That is something we took into consideration, your highness," Silas said calmly. He reached up, wrapping a hand around the reins of the horse nearest to him. His ruby ring glinted in the sunlight. A light 'caw' in the distance alerted Brielle to Merek's presence nearby. She searched the sky for the familiar, before drawing her attention back to Peter as he was bundled up and rushed into the castle, Lucy following after him. "And we were led to believe it was safe."

"What happened?" Caspian asked.

Silas turned his attention to the Telmarine king. "Claormens, sir," he said, putting on a concerned expression, clasping his hands behind his back. "We got Peter to Cair Paravel in a good amount of time. There were magical creatures there, some that he must have recognized, leading the process."

"Which magical creatures?"

"Centaurs."

"It must have been Glenstrom," Edmund realized. "He and Windmane made sure to stay back and oversee the building of Cair Paravel. To ensure that things were moving smoothly, in return for having had saved Narnia from the Telamr rule."

Susan shook her head fretfully. Brielle walked down the steps, being careful and sure of each placement of her feet. Her legs shook as hard as her heartbeat, and she reached out to place her had on Susan's shoulder as a form of comfort and to keep herself steady.

"King Peter was warned about the dangers of Narnia being, essentially defenseless," Silas continued. "Especially after the loss within Miraz's castle, but he insisted he was fine to look around the construction site on his own. By the time we heard the commotion that was going on, we were unable to help him. The perpetrators had run off, but Peter was at least conscious enough to let us know it was the Calormens that had attacked him. He's been in and out of consciousness since."

"Why was there no one who was able to administer any sort of aid to him?" Susan demanded. She folded her arms, blue eyes boring into Silas's with noting more than contempt. "I don't believe that friends we have in Narnia would have let him leave in the condition that he is." She continued before Silas could continue. "If the Calormens truly were behind this, ten it was something that they were aware of, of Peter's return and knowledge that he'd be by himself."

Silas paused, waiting for Susan to say more. He parted his lips, taking in a shallow breath when he was sure she'd finished speaking. "Well, we do have a theory as to how that was possible," Silas said. His eyes, along with everyone else's, shifted over to Caspian.

Caspian looked back at him, then to the others, then back to Silas. His eyes widened in surprise. He took a step back, as if out of the proverbial line of fire, and shook his head. "You know I have nothing to do with this!" He hissed. "I don't have Calormene allies."

"It is common knowledge that Telmar and Calormen are allied together and have been for centuries," Silas continued. He gave a noncommittal shrug, as if the conversation was beneath him. Or, as Brielle noted, that he had done his duty and didn't need to be around much longer. Just needed to blend back into the shadows. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to ensure that King Nain and Queen Aria have heard of what's happened."

His words hung in the air as the crowd in the courtyard dispersed. Caspian shook his head, fists clenching at his sides. "I wouldn't do this," he hissed. "I would never betray Peter like that. Not after what he's done, what he's sacrificed to aid my people. And to ensure that Narnia was brought back to the splendor it once was."

"That's alright, Caspian," Edmund reassured him. "We don't think you've done anything."

"It doesn't matter what we think, Ed," Brielle said quietly. "If everyone else feels this way…if word gets out about what's happened to Peter…they may think your reign is weak." Edmund turned a glare her way. "I'm on your side, Ed. I'm simply saying what is possibly going through the minds of those who are waiting to see how Narnia will come back with your presence. We've only just returned to Narnia, being here in Anvard has proven that our disappearance has made it difficult to trust anyone. If Telmar and Calormen had an alliance…maybe Miraz had this planned as a failsafe."

"My uncle has never been that cunning," Caspian denied. His eyebrows continued to pinch together, a vein in his neck starting to throb at the realization of the betrayal resting upon his shoulders. "He was very shortsighted in what he wanted. Came up with plans based on emotion, he would not have thought of this himself." He shook his head. "But coming up with a way to ensure my inability to be king…I may be taken in for treason!"

"That's not going to happen," Susan said firmly. She reached out and grasped Caspian's hand firmly in hers. "We'll get to the bottom of what's happened and we'll figure out how to move forward. But right now, we need to figure out what's going to happen with Peter. And if Cair Paravel and our allies there have been hurt."

"I can speak to Silas," Brielle suggested. "And see if there's anything that he's forgotten to tell us." She clasped her hands in front of her. "I can only hope that Peter makes a full recovery." Susan nodded, a move that allowed Brielle to do her duties.

Brielle turned on her heel and headed across the courtyard, her smile widening with each step.

The last sliver of the sun had just dipped below the horizon line when Brielle went into the infirmary to check on Peter. Lucy had gotten to him in enough time so that the fire-flower juice from her cordial healed any and all of the wounds that he'd sustained, increasing the healing process that the knights had started, having bandaged him up the best they could upon finding him.

Brielle waited as the nursemaids briefed her on what had been done to ensure his comfort. The same that had been told to all the Pevensies and Caspian when they'd checked in on Peter as well. There wasn't much time before a counsel was to be called with King Nain and Queen Aria, she already heard the whispers and the rumbles of the servants that scurried by and tried to get their work done, no doubt to eavesdrop on the conversation.

It was the biggest thing to happen in Anvard in a very long time. She understood why they'd wanted to get the gossip about everything, she remembered doing the same with all the other ladies were being trained in their duties beneath Queen Aria when she spent time in Anvard, before being sent back to Narnia. Remembered giggling with the servants in Cair Paravel as she gave them their duties for the day. It was harmless, but still carried a lot of weight in something big were to get to the wrong ears.

She'd seen enough backstabbing and betrayal among those that tried to move their way up in the 'hierarchy' of those around the castle with the information they learned.

Nevertheless, Brielle listened quietly, ignoring their eagerness to leave before moving to the chair that had been brought up to his bedside. Peter had been in and out of consciousness during the day, only able to give a few moments of lucidness to speak to his brother and sisters. It was worrying, Susan admitted once she'd left her brother's side. He may have been hurt worse than anyone previously thought, might have a minor concussion.

Either way it worked well for Brielle. She looked at the darkness rapidly deepening outside the widow and closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath when she felt her powers start to increase. Felt her strength returning, more than it would during the day. In the sunlight, she could do some of the more mundane, easy incantations and spells, but night was when she truly shined. Was when she could send out more of her powerful spells and magic tricks. Just as Jadis thrived in winter, ice, and snow, she thrived in the darkness of the night.

So much so, that Brielle didn't need to use her wand to use her projection spell. She simply had to reach her fingers up to her amber broach, taking on the power that stemmed from it, feeling the familiar jolt of magic move through her fingertips. She reached out, hovering her hand over Peter's forehead. His eyelashes fluttered, as if she touched him, but his eyes, otherwise, stayed closed.

Brielle waved her hand over his forehead once, twice, three times, murmuring the familiar spell that's grown to be her best executed. And, in her mind's eyes, she was transported to what Peter was seeing, to the dream—or nightmare—that was paying his head. If she wanted, she could project terrifying images and memories into his dreams to torture him and break him mentally. (Something she'd tried and deemed the results a failure, when traversing to Anvard).

Instead, she decided to watch, to see what he was seeing…

Peter wasn't sure if the sound he let out from his mouth was a grunt of pain or a sigh of relief. Both–probably–filled his veins as he lowered himself to a sitting position, just seconds before his legs gave way entirely. He full weight crashed him onto the ledge that overlooked the courtyard of the Telmarine castle, where the party grew boisterously as the night went on.

Peter smiled to himself, watching Caspian whirl across the cobblestones, holding onto Lucy's hands. They moved in a light dance to the lively music playing below. Or, as Peter realized with amusement, Caspian followed Lucy's movements as she dictated the direction of their dance. Nevertheless, they appeared to be having fun. Caspian had proven his worth, and if Lucy were able to allow herself that vulnerability, then he couldn't be entirely bad. (Though Lucy always seemed able to charm the socks off of anyone she came across, even as a newborn).

Edmund sat happily at the head of the feasting table, cheersing with the centaurs that sat–stood?–around him, equally enjoying the feast. Susan was nearby, sitting carefully on the ground with a wide circle of Telmarine children around her, listening to every word of whatever story she was telling, smiling with a mature-like sincerity when they would react at the right parts. If he were being honest, the true victims of the war were the Telmarine children; those that lost their parents to something that wouldn't be explained to them until later, those that didn't understand the war, those that were used as pawns in Miraz's plans. And they were able to be treated like children within Susan's presence.

Peter lifted his gaze to look at the sky. At the stars that twinkled above, nestled against the backdrop of the moon that shone proudly above them, bringing extra light to the courtyard. The night was crisp, just in-between warm and cool, a perfect fit for the light tunic that'd been festooned upon him in rich navy colors once Caspian declared the night for celebration with the Pevensies' immediate approval. The lights around the courtyard, around the castle was especially bright to the young king. Just as it should've been for a celebration. Miraz was defeated, Narnia was safe.

Everything was the way it should be.

And yet, there was enough wrong that Peter couldn't quite enjoy himself. He watched the party with a certain detachment that he'd grown used to, similar to how he saw things before returning to Narnia. It seemed to be a century ago, having gotten into so many fights with other boys in his school, unable to stomach the disrespect coming his way. (He was a king for Aslan's sake!) Watched as his peers went about their lives so...frivolously, with their noses so far in the air for anything different that they could've drowned if it rained. Didn't think much about others' lives unless it directly impacted them.

He wasn't part of that world anymore, probably could never be again. Just as he'd never truly be a King again with Caspian's presence...

Peter heard footsteps, light and airy, coming up behind him and intuitively knew who it was. Edmund dragged his feet in a way that made their mother consistently fuss over the patching of his shoes and echoed his role in Narnia of following the decisions of the King; not quick to make them of his own volition. Lucy's footsteps were quick, filled with the enthusiasm and enjoyment she had for life, ready to get to the next thing she could fixate on. Susan's were almost a dance; a musicality that mixed her youthfulness and maturity in a combination no one else could follow. And Caspian's were equally as confident as they were insecure; getting used to his new role as king, as leader of his people.

Brielle's footsteps were light and airy; an example of the way she flittered from person to person, a social butterfly who enjoyed everything life had to offer in meeting new people and learning new things…and finding new ways to annoy him.

But he was less than annoyed when he looked up as Brielle brushed aside the skirts of her pale cream dress, of which matched perfectly with her headdress, and lowered herself to her knees beside him. A sharp contrast to the chainmail, battle armor, and determined scowl she wore within the battle with Miraz and the Telmarine army.

Brielle looked at him for a moment, cautious curiosity coming to her face, then said with a small smile, "You look like we just lost the war, my liege."

Peter sighed. "We almost did." He frowned, eyes narrowing for a second, then corrected himself. "I almost did." It wasn't anyone else's fault what'd happened. It was his, all alone. He'd abused the power he had over his followers, bullied them, in a way, into following his lead so that he could...what? Prove to Caspian he was the one to rule Narnia? Peter lowered his head, shaking it back and forth so that his fringe shifted on the light breeze that blew through the courtyard. "We lost so many today, and for what?"

"For Narnia," Brielle reminded him. "For the Telmarines who had no choice but to follow Miraz and his men. For those who wanted peace." She chuckled, tucking loose brown hair behind her ear. "And, I suppose, to not die." As if sensing the miscalculated landing of her joke, she blinked rapidly. But couldn't keep the tiny grin from her face.

Peter chuckled humorlessly. He didn't like to think about things like that too often; where he brought in the stressors of his thoughts as a king into…into what? It was too much for him to hide away with the confidence he worked to bring into his role as the king.

Former King?

Was he still considered a King of Narnia anymore?

The Son of Adam that turned into the High King upon defeating the White Witch and releasing Narnia from its hundred-year winter storm?

Maybe it was that loss that was hitting him harder than he'd expected. The loss of a title. After such a short time of having it. Most of the time being when he was back in the 'real world'. His former life wasn't a part of him anymore, as much as he thought of his parents and the war that brewed there. But he couldn't let his heart go like that and he didn't want to bring it up to her.

She didn't expect him to be perfect, didn't think he was. Teased and taunted him about it at almost every turn. And in the moment between breaths that was a comfort. Still he wouldn't have expected what came next.

Exhaustion came over him quicker than he'd anticipated. Maybe it was finally slowing down, finally off his feet after long days of battle and conflict. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush petering out, letting everything else run him over. Maybe it was speaking, out loud, of the worries that filled his head. But Peter's head lolled, his vision swam, he worked hard not to yawn, eyes sliding shut.

He hadn't realized he was moving until he rocked forward, shaking his head. His eyes fluttered, working to stay open. Brielle surprised him, grabbing his arm in a gentle grasp to move him over and down, down, down until his head rested on her lap, her skirts creating the perfect pillow for his weary head.

Despite how they were often in each other's space while in battle (while sparring or in actual battle), taunting each other, working to cut each other down when in the moments they could show her closeness to the Pevensies, the moment was strange and…nice all on its own. Peter looked out at the city through half-lidded eyes, barely breathing as he felt her hand combing through his hair.

He relaxed.

A full body sigh escaped him; his eyes nearly closed. One breath, two breaths, nearly asleep.

After some time, her fingers stopped, he didn't mind. Didn't move. She was here with him and all the worries and disappointments of the day had melted away.

Hmm. Brielle brought her hand back to her lap, her eyebrows coming together. That was interesting. Why was he thinking of that memory?

She remembered that day, sort of. Had celebrated as hard as the rest of the Pevensies, Caspian, and the magical creatures had. She'd had a nasty hangover the next day, after having had drunk too much wine and not eaten nearly enough of the feast that was given one. (On one hand, she was fearful of losing her fingers from Edmund's appetite and on the other being unsure of the sorts of foods that Telmarines ate. Not that it made much of a difference, they hadn't eaten much between discussing war tactics and being out in the field).

She'd spent most of the night in the Telmar castle giggling and gossiping with Lucy and Susan, delirious over the excitement of the war being over, of seeing Aslan once more, of knowing it was a start to the peace they'd longed for. Hadn't thought too much of the celebration in general. Once Susan and Lucy had dropped off to sleep, Brielle spent more time ensuring she hadn't used too much of her magic while in the battle. Sword fighting was exhausting, and she had to continue to give herself more energy each time she started to slow down, healed herself whenever a wound appeared. There were even times where she outright used blasts of magic…but had made sure the Pevensies and Caspian weren't around to see it.

It hadn't been the right time to reveal herself yet, there was a plan to follow. And she followed it well. There was no room for error. Which was also why she hadn't had decided to give herself much time to think about all the loss they'd faced within that battle, within their first foray into Narnia and how she might've been stronger if…

Brielle clasped her hands tightly together in her lap, shifted in her seat to get more comfortable. With each movement, rocking to get settled, Brielle felt her wand scratch against her leg. Space formed in her boot, allowing her wand to roll around. Brielle tucked her hair behind her ears and gazed down at Peter's face. Expected to see heavy bruising around his eyes, some visible lasting trauma from the Calormenes attacking him and was surprised…relieved to see it wasn't the case.

His eyes were shut, eyelashes gently fluttering against his cheeks as he tried to rise. Or maybe he was stuck in a bad dream, bad memories that she now wasn't privy to, having broken the tether that connected them. It wasn't one she was causing that time, something in her couldn't bear to disrupt his slumber any more than it already was. And while it appeared, he slept fitfully, there seemed to be a hint of a smile on his lips.

One that Brielle found herself mimicking. She reached up, placing her hand on his hair, stroking it softly. The blonde strands of hair slid through her fingers then fell back in place. Her hand drifted slowly from his hair to his cheek, fingertips smoothing down the skin to his jaw then back up to repeat her movement. Her fingertips twitched, itching to reach for her wand, to end everything there.

But found herself unable to do so. Instead, she continued to gently stoke his cheek and watch and listen. Finally, she noticed Peter's eyes flutter even more before finally opening. Brielle brought her hand back to her lap. "Peter?"

"I think that's my name," He joked quietly. He took in a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. "What…?" He trailed off, unsure of how to ask.

Brielle quickly figured out. "It's only been a few days since you left," she said. Then added bluntly, "You look like crap."

Peter rolled his eyes, making her smile. "Thanks for that," he mumbled. Then his eyebrows furrowed. "I feel like crap."

"I didn't mean…" She trailed off, unsure of how to apologize. If she even wanted to, never having had apologized for a teasing comment to him before. It'd change things if she started now…

"I know what you meant."

"Are you okay?"

"If you call waking up randomly in the infirmary, not really knowing what happened, then I reckon I'm pretty good." He gave a small smile.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." He watched her for a long moment. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long."

"Why?"

"Why would I leave?"

Peter smiled ad settled back into his pillows.

Brielle smiled back.

A/N: Took me a bit longer to get this chapter up, but I've had a lot going on. Of course COVID has managed to zap some of my motivation, but there's also the fact that I've suddenly gone back into work (not open to the public yet) and it's a lot of work we have to get done between now and when we open the store again.

Anywho, I really loved writing this chapter and I hope you all loved it as well! I'll update again soon!

Cheers,

-Riles