I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. I just pwn them.
Lucy had a feeling she wouldn't be truly dry until she had a chance to change out of everything she was wearing, but after an hour in the sun she certainly felt a little better. The army outpost at the lake's edge, Thomas among them, had supplied the four monarchs with food, drink and news; Oreius had arrived just after they'd left the camp where they'd been reunited with Peter, and had taken command of the situation at once. The mercenary camps had been rounded up for the most part, and one of the holes between worlds had been discovered. In a few days they had managed to send most of the approximate two-hundred world-crossers back to their homes. The refugees like Perick and his family were being relocated to southern Narnia, where the climate was more agreeable, and it was possible that some would move into Archenland granted the Pevensies spoke to King Lune first.
Because Lucy had actually fallen asleep almost immediately after reaching land, she wasn't sure quite what happened in between her arrival and her awakening. In any case, when she came to, the rest of her things (tunic, chain mail, belt, dagger and cordial) were lying next to her and slowly drying, the moisture on them running off in the grass, it looked to be late afternoon, and the wonderfully warm sun was soaking her generously in warmth and light. She felt immeasurably better than she had only an hour before. Her hands had been redressed while she'd slumbered, so thankfully she had not felt it, and the new bandages were clean and dry and carefully wrapped. Edmund was sitting beside her when she woke up, the cut on his temple obviously treated. When she awoke with a loud yawn he looked over at her and grinned.
"Afternoon, sleepyhead," he teased. She smiled blearily and lifted a hand to scrub at her eyes, but whimpered and pulled it away when a sharp twinge of pain shot through to her wrist. Ed lifted a hand as if to catch someone's attention and called, "Susan, she's awake."
Their sister came bustling over a second later, kneeling beside Lucy and peppering her with questions about how she felt and if she was hungry or tired and assuring her that she didn't have to say what happened until she wanted to. She missed most of it, her mind still blissfully preoccupied with the fact that she seemed to be warm and safe and in the process of drying. Eventually Susan gave up trying to get answers from her and simply sat by them, rising a fraction of an instant later to confront Peter, who had apparently gotten up to see Lucy.
"And what do you think you're doing?" she demanded. Peter looked hurt, flopping down on the grass at Lucy's feet. Lucy noticed for the first time that the rest of her siblings had also removed their chain-mail. There were still slight bloodstains on Peter's clothes, but Ed had escaped most of it. Susan looked unharmed for the most part except for the hemline of her dress, which was now just below her knees (several inches higher than before) and very tattered, and Lucy judged that it was this material that had made her first clumsy bandages.
"I wanted to see Lu," said Peter sulkily, as Susan continued to glare down at him.
"Then you should have said so, and we would have brought her to you," Susan scolded him. "Now lie down."
"I drank the cordial! For the love of Aslan, why isn't that enough?" he complained. Edmund reached over and shoved him to the ground none too gently, ignoring the oof that resulted.
"Because you were a bloody moron and chose to get us both killed instead of saving your own skin," he replied testily. Lucy giggled as Peter maneuvered himself so that his head rested on Ed's lap, at which the younger boy looked indignant and remarked, "Hey! Did I say you could do that?"
"You don't make a very good pillow," muttered Peter, still grumpy. He closed his eyes and folded his arms over his stomach. Susan threw up her hands and sat by the rest of her siblings with a look of exasperation.
"You haven't told us your story, Lu," she said after a minute. "Do you want to tell us what happened now?"
Lucy shrugged, then nodded.
"You two went under," she said to Peter and Edmund, surprised at the hoarseness of her own voice. She realized hadn't spoken in quite some time. "And the water was getting awfully high. I thought for sure I would drown but Susan saved my life, she took off my armor for me."
Lucy smiled gratefully at her sister, who returned the gesture.
"When I swam up, Zale was still there and waiting. I knew I couldn't escape her but I couldn't just let her kill me, so I swam to the mirror and used a piece of the glass as a weapon. She tried to stab me but hit the frame instead, and I saw something that looked like the White Witch's staff, or just the kind of color that comes after it's used. I attacked it with the glass I was holding and from there I don't remember anything."
"And the glass is why your hands are all cut up, right?" said Ed. She nodded, flinching at the memory.
"That's incredible, Lu," said Susan.
"Incredible?" said Peter, opening one eye. "Try ruddy fantastic. I think Aslan was onto something with that title of yours."
Lucy felt herself blush and looked down at the grass. A warm sense of pride was simmering in her stomach, making her feel rather light and comfortable. She'd done it – she'd saved her family, maybe even saved Narnia, and suddenly she felt very silly for having ever thought that she needed the cordial to be important. Smiling more, she lifted her face to bask in the sunlight. Had it been this warm when they'd left? She wasn't sure; perhaps it was just that anything seemed warm after the freezing bath she'd just taken. In any case, it looked as though things were going to be all right.
They spent the rest of the day lounging on the lakeside, recuperating. A gryphon scout from the army delivered fresh clothes and more rations, and Thomas insisted on building a grand fire to imitate the one they'd had at the riverside almost a week before. Lucy was slightly shocked to realize that such a short span of time had passed, because there was simply so much that had happened in it. It was hard to wrap her mind around. But as she sat there by the fireside with the delicious smell of cooking food all around, she cast such difficult thoughts aside and simply settled back into the wordless placidness that she'd found since she'd broken the castle's spell. It was as if she was simply too tired to be cranky.
Hands, Lucy discovered, were never truly appreciated until they weren't in working order. She hadn't been aware that she used her hands to get up, and Susan had to help pull her to her feet. She never noticed that her hands had always been doing something before, resting on her belt or fiddling with her sleeve or tucking back her hair or at least something until she found herself doing it all the time and crying out in surprise and pain. She couldn't dress herself in the fresh clothes, Susan had to help with that too, and when it came time to dinner it was Edmund who in a bizarre streak of patience sat by her side and helped her to accomplish the suddenly daunting task that was eating. Peter often made attempts to help her but was forcibly restrained by the middle two siblings.
"At the beginning of this expedition you told me you weren't superhuman," Susan said sternly. "Now it's time to remember this, and trust Ed and I to do things properly. You lost far too much blood, Peter, and even you aren't capable of a full recovery in four hours. Let someone else worry for a change."
He grumbled, but his attempts to get up grew less frequent.
When Lucy awoke the next morning, it was still sunny, and there was another scout in the camp. She explained that Oreius had sent word that the Pevensies were to return to Cair Paravel, as the mercenary situation was under control and did not require their attention. Along with the scout were two fine horses, which she explained were supposed to bear them back to the castle.
"But there are four of us," said Peter confusedly. "Why only two horses?"
"General Oreius had word of Your Highness's condition and thought it best you did not ride alone," said the gryphon. Peter spluttered for a moment before turning to his family for some sort of support, but all he got was an eye-rolling from Ed, an "I-told-you-so" look from Susan and a sympathetic smile from Lucy.
"This is humiliating," he muttered a few minutes later, seated behind Edmund, who held the reins of a large black stallion. Lucy was in front of Susan, her sister's arms on either side of her and also holding the reins. Their horse was a sleek grey mare. Waving goodbye to the outpost on the lakeshore, the four guided their steeds to the edge of the forest and prepared to set off. The saddlebags were packed with rations for the trip, the sun was shining brightly, and the mood was light.
They sped off through the trees, Peter reluctantly taking hold of Edmund's waist when he quite nearly fell off, and suddenly Lucy couldn't resist the urge to laugh. Finally, finally – they were going home.
