I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. I only waste hours and hours and hours thinking and writing about them.
As it turned out, Peter carried Edmund through to lunch about half an hour later. Ed had stopped protesting about ten minutes prior, though Lucy didn't know if it was because he'd run out of cusses or because he realized the futility of it all; whatever the case, the instant Peter lowered him gently to the ground he turned around, pulled off his right gauntlet, and slapped his brother across the face.
"Edmund!" cried Susan admonishingly, rushing to Peter's side. The eldest Pevensie stood with a rather surprised look on his face, one hand coming up to touch his reddening cheek. After a moment he seemed to snap out of a trance and turned to his still-glaring brother.
"You're welcome," he said confusedly.
"Piss off," hissed Ed, and stomped away.
His siblings shared a look, then Susan murmured "oh, dear" and hurried after him. Peter sighed and sank to the forest floor tiredly. Lucy copied him, reaching out to pat his arm reassuringly.
"He's just tetchy," she told him. "I don't expect he's actually angry with you."
"No," agreed Peter. "But I do wish he'd find less colorful language to express himself."
After lunch they started what Lucy hoped dearly was the final stretch of their journey. Feeling distinctly unmotivated, she trudged through the forest with her head down and her shoulders hunched, not really speaking to anyone. Renlin and Thomas were, again, chatting animatedly, and she thought fleetingly of joining them but found that she just wasn't in the mood. It was getting colder again, and the forest was thinning as they headed towards what was presumably a large lake.
She had been to the Witch's castle once before, when Aslan had brought her and Susan there to bring back the Narnians who had been turned to stone. It was a decidedly unsavory building with too many spires, pointed like daggers or dunce's caps, much smaller than Cair Paravel but with dungeons of equal size. Lucy hadn't been everywhere inside of it, only where she and Susan had gone to look for other stone creatures, but she'd seen enough to know that it wouldn't be a comfortable place to live. It was built for someone who expected no company that couldn't be accommodated in a prison cell. Of her siblings, Peter was the only one who had never visited it; Edmund, of course, had been there when he'd gone to betray them. He had never been willing to speak about just what happened inside, but from the state he had been in when they'd been reunited, it was safe to say that he hadn't been well-received.
Lucy glanced over at him, wondering how he felt about going back. He didn't look very happy but she supposed there were other reasons for that. ("Do you think he's all right?" Peter had asked; Susan had told him the only thing paining Ed at the moment was his pride.) Still, she felt a little worried for him. If the memories alone had been enough to give him nightmares for months after their coronation, what would happen when he was directly faced with the place where it happened? A bit of righteous anger flared somewhere in the back of her mind, and she briefly thought Peter's going to kill that woman before she remembered that she had been dead four years already.
"…and the warmest smile in all of Archenland," Thomas was saying. Lucy skipped a step to come over and join him and Renlin, deciding that she might as well. There wasn't anything else to do.
"She sounds like a fine lass," said Renlin.
"Who?" asked Lucy, and they both looked over at her.
"My girl, Sarah," said Thomas with a smile. "She's back home in Archenland. Been thinking of bringing her up here to Narnia."
"Oh, are you getting married?"
He laughed and shrugged, his cheeks flushing the slightest bit.
"I'd like to," he admitted. "But I don't know if her parents would stand for it. Her mother especially, she's got a nasty temper, last time I came 'round to visit her daughter she gave me a black eye. Heard a few too many stories about sea-faring types I guess."
"That's ridiculous! You ought to be able to marry whoever you like."
"Ah, such is life," said Renlin sagely. They walked on together as he went in detail about his own bittersweet love story. Lucy, who had never really been one for romantic tales, listened politely and wondered if she'd ever become like that. Occasionally she'd caught Susan giving funny looks to the young ambassadors and princes that visited them in court, but nothing had been spoken of the matter yet and she was glad. She couldn't imagine ever losing Susan to some foreigner and having an empty throne.
She continued conversing with Thomas and Renlin for a good hour, until Peter called her aside.
"Lucy," he said seriously, and kept his voice quiet enough that they wouldn't be overheard. "I want to talk to you."
"What about?"
"I don't know what's waiting inside that castle, but I can assure you it will be dangerous."
"What are you getting at, Peter?" she asked suspiciously. He tried to look casual.
"No one's forcing you to go…" he said nonchalantly, shrugging.
"Oh, save your breath," she said crossly. "You know perfectly well I'm going whether or not you want me to."
"Yes, I thought so. But it was worth a try."
"Peter, I've been meaning to speak to you," said Susan suddenly, falling into step beside him, and Lucy could have sworn her sister had winked at her. Peter cast a wary glance at her, and Lucy wondered if he noticed the mildly wicked twinkle in her blue eyes. She grinned.
"I've been thinking," said Susan slowly. "This could be awfully dangerous. I don't know if you should be coming along. You could get hurt." And she sounded so solemn, so grave, that for a minute even Lucy thought she was serious.
"What…what are you talking about?" Peter stammered indignantly.
"Yes, you really should stay back with the army, you'll be safer," Lucy teased, joining in.
"Don't be absurd, it's my duty, I'm a ruddy King of Narnia!"
"And we are Queens," said Susan. "Stop being such a wet blanket."
"I am not being a wet blanket! I just want my family out of harm's way, is that so much to ask for?"
"You worry too much," said Lucy, latching onto his arm.
"I don't have to put up with this," Peter said warningly in an obvious attempt to regain his dignity. Susan latched onto his other arm, linking elbows and offering him an unnaturally cheery smile.
"Oh, but you do anyway," she told him as they marched along.
"And I do not worry too much," he mumbled defiantly.
"Don't kid yourself," said a different voice; they craned their necks back to see that Edmund was walking behind them. He still looked somewhat sour, but his lips curled into a characteristic smirk as he continued. "More like a Worrier King than a Warrior King."
"He's got you there, Peter," said Susan pleasantly as he flushed a delightful shade of crimson (Lucy wasted no time in informing him of the exact hue).
"Abuse," he muttered. "That's all I ever get is abuse. Completely unappreciated."
"You know we love you," Lucy said cheerfully, resting her head against his shoulder.
They ate on the lakeshore that night, a meal of freshly caught fish and nuts. The night was clear and cold with the moon shining faintly off the deceptively calm surface of the lake. Lucy lay awake to the quiet lapping of the water and the warmth of Susan's arms around her as their brothers slept nearby; her thoughts drifted like the few clouds that made their lazy way across the starlit skies. Tomorrow, she thought, all four of them would be plunging into the frigid lake, down into the ruined home of the one person who had come close to breaking apart their family. She didn't doubt Peter at all. It would be risky, very much so, but as she let herself fall into sleep, she realized that it didn't make much of a difference. As long as they could be together, things would be all right.
