The Back of the Wardrobe
Set in the old BBC version 1988.
Susan always felt in a different, indefinable way about Peter. When he tells her that he is adopted, that feelings clear up.
Disclaimer; I do not own Narnia and all it's creatures, I just do stuff to them to make CS Lewis angry.
Perfectangel9000: Here you go (:
Silent Cobra: Yeah, Susan's kinda being the bitch. And in fact, she is right. Ofcourse it's all a bit more complicated, but in fact a dryade is part of a tree. Imagine how Susan feels! A tree stole her boyfriend. Yeah, well ... awkward moment... :P
CiceroGuided: Okay, that simply rocks:D
Aminuleen: You're not forcing me into things, are you:P No, I really like the idea, but it's just not fitting here. Maybe I'll use it some other time if that's okay with you.
KibumiWong: thank you, thank you, thank you :D As for Peter; I think you'll like him alot more after this chapter (:
Zeldy: Well, it's supposed to be a Peter/Susan fic. Fae's just there to mess a little bit with both Susan ánd Peter.
I know you love me for updating this soon :P
This one is even longer than chapter 8 (: And no flames please; I know I suck at battlescenes.
IX. Pre-battle, battle and after-battle
A few weeks went by and Peter had built a tender relationship with Fae. He was delighted to be around her, and everyday he discovered more and more lovely things about her. She could be so sweet and nice and honest, and then the next minute she could be so nasty and mean and deliciously sadistic. He could truly say he was in love. Not that Susan was forgotten. Oh no, not nearly. Peter found it a delicate matter to be around Susan, who wanted Peter more and liked Fae less everyday. He wasn't sure what she was from him, since she wasn't his sister anymore, nor was she really a friend, and she was definately not his lover. He wasn't sure if she ever really was or would be. But lately he didn't have the time to think about it. News of the White Witch's moving forces had reached Aslan's camp, and Peter almost collapsed under the weight of so much tension, especially now that Aslan himself had left the camp for god knows why. But despite all that Peter was pretty confident about this upcoming battle. He had seen his army, he had seen the perfect shape they were in, plus he was in a prophecy. What could go wrong about that? A number of leaves, dancing on a gust of wind blew into the tent and sudddenly he felt lips in the back of his neck.
"Hey," said Peter smiling, "How are you?"
"I'm fine," said Fae, resting her head on his shoulder, "You? Getting hold of the nerves?"
"Oh, it's not that bad. I have faith in this war," he said, "It should not be too hard to defeat her."
Fae parted from him, laughing as if he made a joke, but when Peter threw her a puzzled look, the joy faded quickly and Peter saw the turn she made from personal to business.
"Peter, that woman has been governing this country for a hundred years, you know that, right? A hundred years. That's a lot longer than you and I have lived. And in that hundred years she has collected more allies than you can possibly imagine," she said as calmly as she could, "You can't actually believe that she is so easily defeated."
"Oh come on, we can handle it," Peter said, "I've got everything under control."
"Okay, okay, if you say so," Fae said comforted, "I will trust you. Can I see your battleplan? Maybe I can make some little adjustments, to make it just that little bit better."
Peter swallowed. Fae turned around and walked over to the table, where she poured herself something to drink.
"B-battleplan?"
Fae turned around very slowly, her eyes widened.
"No," she shook her head and snickered in disbelief, "No, tell me this isn't true. You're playing a game with me. Where is your battleplan?"
"It will be alright," Peter said, getting a little insecure now.
"It will be alright?" it was a whisper of mere disbelief, "It will be alright?"
Peter fell silent uncomfortably.
"And HOW exactly is it going to be alright? Huh?" Fae shouted, "You're going to march up against the White Witch's army, which is ten times bigger than yours and you KNOW it –"
"Numbers don't win a battle," Peter tried to soften it.
"No, but they sure do help – and they have better weapons, they have stronger creatures with less fear and I can assure you they will be very organized. All because they do have a battleplan, and I dare to bet it's perfect. Peter, please don't be so damn naïeve!"
Peter was a bit offended by that.
"Then what do you suppose we do, General?" he said, and he was already regretting the rude tone it came out on.
"We?" Fae raised a mocking eyebrow, "I don't think you have to count on a we here, Peter. You are going to be High King when you're going to win this – if you are going to win this. You think of something. You and your army can march up against the White Witch and lose whatever way you want."
"I might not lose. I have the elves-army," Peter said.
"That is indeed a very strong army," Fae said, and for a moment Peter thought she was changing her mind, until he saw the look on her face, "But how much faith do you think Aillil has in an eightteen years old, experienceless human without a Battleplan?"
"I'm in the prophecy,"
"Yeah, well, that prophecy sure did a lot for your fightingskills," Fae said mocking, referring back to the weeks and weeks and weeks of practicing she had spent on him, "Look Peter, I am not getting my nymphs killed in a fight like this. I might as well send them one by one to the Witch's castle."
"Fae, please," only now Peter felt how tired he was. He felt stupid and rejected. Fae started pacing up and down the tent, "Why can't you just help me?" he asked defeated.
"Becauseyou are being naïve! You think you can just pop in, defeat the queen, and take over Narnia, but guess what, Peter," she exclaimed, "That's not the way it works."
"Why are you calling her a queen?" Peter asked with disgust in his voice. He was doing everything, anything to not break down right now. Fae did nothing but tell him the truth, he knew that, but he had never imagined that the truth would be so damn awful. And ofcourse the way she brought it wasn't all that tactical. Next to her nice sides Peter had also got familiar with her temper.
"Because she is, Peter. People can deny it whatever they want, but until you have defeated her, and the prophecy gets fulfilled, she is."
"Relax," Peter grabbed her upper arm and forced her to look at him, "You're freaking out."
Fae jerked herself out of his grasp, and pointed a threatening finger at him.
"You are NOT going to do that EVER again," she yelled. He smiled at her as if she was being impulsive and completely unreasonable. He knew he shouldn't be treating her like that, as much as he knew he was going to suffer for this. But one way or another, he just couldn't bring himself on striking another attitude.
"Come on, Fae," he said as sweetly possible and he tried to give her a kiss. But as soon he came close enough, she slapped him in his face. Peter cringed lightly and sank down on the bed behind him. Tears gathered in his eyes. It hurt, ofcourse it hurt, but more in his heart than on his skin.
"Don't you patronize me, Peter Pevensie," she said threatening, and with those words, she walked out and left Peter sitting there. He rested his head on one hand, and with the other he touched the painful spot where Fae had hit him. So he sat for what seemed to him like hours. Susan's shadow projected on his tent, before she came in.
"Peter, Aillil is here!" she said to him, with a happy tone in her voice. Her face twisted when she saw him, "Peter? What happened?"
Peter didn't react. Susan walked in a few steps.
"Shall I tell Aillil to come back later?" she asked.
Peter smiled at her, shook his head and stood up.
"No, no, send him in," he said. Susan nodded and left. A few seconds later the elvenprince stepped into Peter's tent.
"Aillil," Peter bowed deeply. Aillil grabbed him by his clothing and firmly put him straight up.
"No time for that rubbish, boy. We have a war hanging over us. Where is your battleplan?" Aillil said, while walking to the table with Peter in on his heels.
"Well, I actually just went through a similar conversation. I have not yet managed to develop a good battleplan,"
"But you have a beginning?" Aillil asked hopefully.
"Err – no,"
Aillil turned around so sudden, that Peter almost bumped into him. The scarred face was distorted with disbelief.
"You don't have a battleplan?"
Peter shook his head. Aillil opened his mouth to say something, but Peter was first.
"Look, I'm very sorry, but this is just the way it is. I have just been hit the hell out of me for it, so please, lets now begin with a battleplan. Else we won't have any time left at all."
Aillil agreed. Peter layed a Narnia-map on the table.
"Okay, this is where we are now," Aillil placed his finger on the map. Aslan's Camp, Peter wrote, "This is where we will meet the Witch's army," Battlefield. "Okay, let's see."
Aillil started at the map for a while.
"Yes," he said then, "Yes, I think it is wise to wait for her before this rockformation. My army will be in the middle, behind you. You should put the riders and a few Animals like the tigers in front, the rest behind that. Then you might want to split your army Talking Animals up in two groups. One will be at the left and one at the right. They can close the Witch's army in for so far that is possible. Be sure the middle-army makes six strong lines. It would be beautiful to have the Witch's army closed in and deathwalled. The flying army will throw rocks at them, I see no further problem on that. Then, the most important thing. If I were you, I would place your brother Edmund on top of the rocks here, with the Nymphs-army. They have a few of the best archers Narnia has ever-"
"Err, sir," Peter interrupted him.
"What, you gotta go to the bathroom?" Aillil asked mocking. Peter shook his head.
"I don't – I don't have the nymphs army," he whispered. Aillil looked at him and his jaw dropped.
"You don't have the – WHAT? You don't have Fae?"
Peter shook his head. Aillil sighed and massaged his forhead with his knuckles.
"Okay, let me think. Where is Aslan?" he asked. Peter swallowed.
"I don't know," he weezed. Aillil freaked out.
"Okay, how do you want to win this battle? Can you tell me that? You have obviously no idea of the Witch's power, you have no battleplan, you have no idea where your King is, you don't have the strongest army in Narnia at your disposal..." He sighed, "You make a damn bad King, so far."
Peter looked at the ground.
"I think I'm going to take a little walk. I'm back in a few minutes," he said rather suffocated by tears, and before Aillil could stop him he had went outside. Edmund, who was sitting on the grass enjoying the sun, saw him walking into the forest and decided to go after him.
"Peter," he exclaimed, "Wait up!"
But Peter didn't wait. He walked and walked and didn't give any sign that he had even heard Edmund. When Edmund had catched up on him, he looked beside him at his little brother and tried to smile. He failed.
"What is it, Peter?" Edmund asked a little worried. Peter sighed.
"Aillil is completely killing me off. I don't have a battleplan" (Edmund could just in time stop himself from chuckling. Who in god's name would want to go to battle without battleplan?) "and they hate me for it."
"They?" Edmund asked.
"Fae," Peter sighed and sat down on a fallen tree, "She's withdrawed her army from the battle."
"She did what?" Edmund said unpleasantly surprised. Peter looked at him, and Edmund saw he was trying to bear up bravely.
"Yeah. She has deserted us," he said with a trembling voice, and he grinned joylessly.
"Hello Edmund,"
She said it before Edmund had even really entered her tent. He hesitated. Fae radiated so much power that it made him feel diminutive and small. It oftenly surprised him, because she was practically as old as he was. But he had to be strong now, and he stepped in.
"I can't believe you're doing this to us," he said, a little startled by all the emotion in his own voice. She was sitting on her bed with her back towards him, polishing her bow.
"What?" she asked. It frustrated Edmund that she was so calm. Did she even realize what this was about?
"Deserting us!" he then said as calmly possible. Which means he didn't sound calm at all. Fae sighed, and Edmund heard her voice tremble, afraid she was going to scream at him. But when she spoke, her voice was sad.
"I'm not in the mood, Edmund. Be nice or be off,"
Edmund didn't like making her sad, and his own voice softened.
"Fae, he needs you. You can't let him fight this war alone," he said as nice as possible.
"This is not a war. It's a massacre," it sounded convincing. It was enough to drive Edmund crazy.
"You're just chickening out," he said, "It's disgusting."
Fae stood in front of him so suddenly, her furious face so close to his, that he had to repress a yell.
"Than what am I supposed to do? Put my nymphs to Peter's disposal, and then watch how he gives orders to let themselves get killed?" she shouted. Edmund was startled and pretty intimidated, but he did not back away from her.
"Peter is doing the best he can!" he exclaimed. Fae's face softened again, and she took a step back.
"Yes," she sat back down on her bed, "Yes I know. But sometimes your best isn't good enough."
"Then why don't you do something?" Edmund shouted, completely out of his mind, until he realized that her words might've had a double meaning. He walked up to her, kneeling in front of her and resting his arms on her knees.
"What's the matter Fae?" he asked, "Have we done something to you?"
"It's not you, Edmund," Fae said and tears started rolling down her cheeks, "It's me."
"Peter," Edmund said, sighing.
"I don't have him, Edmund," Fae sobbed, "I do not have his full love. I don't think he realizes it himself, but he loves Susan."
Edmund nodded and sighed. He had also seen it. Fae threw him a despairing look, and for the first time ever, someone saw how young she was. How incredibly young and vulnerable she was. Hardened by experience, but secretly not really ready for the responsibility of an army.
"I love him, Edmund," she said, "I really do. All I want for him is to be happy, whether that it with me or with Susan. I have tried to get him to say he'd rather be with Susan, but he doesn't, and it pains me. Because whatever I do, I'll never really have him."
She started to cry out loud now, and Edmund pulled her in his embrace until she had calmed down a little bit.
"You must pull yourself together, Fae, come on," he said, "This is not about you and Peter right now, this is about the fate of Narnia. Wouldn't you think it would be a little selfish to restrain from the battle, while this is about your land too? I understand what you're saying about not wanting your Nymphs to die, but not fighting won't make it any better."
Fae sobbed and looked away. Edmund gently grabbed her by her shoulders and forced her to look back at him. His dark eyes pierced hers.
"You too want to end this winter, right?" he asked. Fae sighed and looked down.
"Ofcourse," she snivelled, clumsily wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.
"And I don't know about Peter," Edmund said, "But you're a friend of mine, and I love you too."
Fae looked up at him.
"You do?" she asked insecurely. He laughed and wiped the last tears from her face.
"Ofcourse," he said.
Peter gazed over the broad green valley. The White Witch could appear there, beyond that hill, any moment. He looked behind him. As far as he could see were creatures, that all looked up to him with hope in their eyes. They all had a great faith in him.
And there, on the battlefield, in the silence before the storm, Peter started doubting himself more than ever. He blinked frantically to keep his tears from falling, and wondered however he had gotten himself into this situation? He was only eightteen and now had to fight for the sake of his land, that he had entered only about two months ago, without his king and his brother. For Aslan nor Edmund had showed up yet. The unicorn moved nervously under his body. The White Witch was not far from here.
"Is that – Edmund?"
Peter looked at Susan, who was staring in the distance on his right. He turned his head and indeed saw his little brother, on the brown horse called Philip, galloping up to them. He had the broadest grin on his face Peter had ever seen.
"Edmund!" Peter said, "Where were you?"
"You'll see," Edmund said, and he came stand inbetween him and Susan. Peter looked him up and down. Edmund didn't wear the usual Narnian armour, like Peter and Susan and the rest of their army. The armour he wore was made of a glistening silver, looking so fragile but no doubt hard as stone. To his belt hang a sword in a sheath, which was engraved with leaves, that Peter had never seen before. On Edmund's back ofcourse hang his quiver and bow.
"Peter," Susan said again, "Look!"
Peter looked across the valley. This was it. The end of Narnia.
"No," Susan shook her head, "Look over there!" and she pointed at Peter's right again. Slowly, as if in slowmotion, Peter turned his head to the right. There in the distance, standing sharply out against the colors of the sunrise, stood a horse with a rider on his back. Peter couldn't discern the face, but from the small and somewhat slender build he could see that it was a woman – a young woman in armour. She turned her horse and braught a horn to her lips. Then she threw her head in her neck and blew it. The sound was beautiful and it was like music to Peter's ears. Peter already felt stronger, ready to do this battle, or at least as ready as one can be for a battle. But then, to Peter's awe, an army marched over the hill, and passed the horn-blowing woman. It were hundreds of nymphs in armour. They marched up to Peter's troops and melted into it effortless. While the last perfectly organized group of nymphs were linked to Peter's troops, the young female galloped up to him. When Peter saw her face, all his doubts disappeared.
"Fae..."
Fae didn't look him in the eyes, but just smiled calmly and stood beside him.
"I don't know what to say," whispered Peter.
"Then say nothing," replied Fae, "One of my scouts is out there. We'll know when the White Witch will attack."
Peter sighed relieved; he had some more time to prepare himself mentally, for he hadn't had the time for that.
"Why did you...?" he didn't even had the strength to finish. He looked at her. Her armour was similar to Edmund's. Only now light for a woman. Then he looked back at her army. It was so beautiful. Every nymph in whole Narnia seemed to have gathered, and now they watched the sunrise, with determined looks on their faces.
"Why did you…" he tried again, but he found he was unable to speak properly.
"Every generation has it's time and it's glory, Peter. It's own battle. You cannot delay your time, for that is not your decision. And you don't want to ignore your glory," she said. It fell silent.
"And ofcourse, as in all epic stories, a friend came to convince me," she added in a confessing tone with a laugh and Peter heard Edmund grinning. Over the hill at the other side of the valley came a white horse with a dryade on it. No doubt Fae's scout.
"That's our sign," Fae said with a smile.
"General!" the young dryade yelled. She stopped next to Fae, gasping for breath, and Peter saw it was Dascha, "It's time!"
"Thank you," Fae replied, "Stand with the others."
Dascha nodded and linked to the riders in her army. For the first time since her arrival, Fae looked Peter right in the eyes.
"She is here,"
The troops were silent as the grave. The air layed thick and heavy on Peter's shoulders. At the other side of the valley, thick stormclouds appeared. The grass froze and the green trees immediatly let go of their leaves. Then, they saw her. She stood in a carriage pulled by polarbears, the White Witch. Her army, even bigger than Peter had expected, gathered behind her. Fae turned around and started talking.
"This is our time! This is our glory!" she yelled, "Come, friends, and stand for the faith of Narnia!"
"For Narnia," their army said in unison. Fae turned around again, facing the army at the other side of the valley.
"Let's exterminate them!" she said, and she blew her horn again. She looked Peter in the eyes, in the two or three second-silence before the storm.
"This is our battle," she said softly.
"For Aslan!" Peter shouted. His horse rose on his back legs, and then he galloped down, with Susan, Fae and Edmund on his heels. And behind them, all good that was left in Narnia. Peter saw everything through a haze, as if it was a dream. He even dared to smile. How many boys get to do this? he thought. But he was roughly woken up from that dream when their armies met eachother. Peter repressed a yell when iron met iron and teeth met flesh. Fear pumped a strange kind of adrenaline into his blood as he killed the first – thing. He didn't even had the time to see what exactly he had killed, cause another thing had showed up, trying to hit him off his unicorn with his axe. When Peter blocked the attack, he saw it was a minotaur. The beast was giving him blow after blow with his axe, determined on killing him. Peter found himself hesitating whether to kill the minotaur or not, but then he realized this was war, and with one slash he cut the minotaurs head off. Peter turned his head away in disgust, but realized that was a stupid thing to do, when he was smashed to the ground. With a disoriented look on his face he looked around him, to see that someone killed his unicorn. Quickly he came to his feet, when he saw a snowleopard leaping with wide open mouth and blinking teeth. He raised his sword, just like he had done with Maugrim. Only now, when his sword had sunk into the animal's flesh, he quickly threw it to the right, preventing it from landing on him anyway like Maugrim had. More and more evil creatures came running his way and soon he pretty much got the hang of it. As he ran down the battlefield (he had no time to feel sad about the unicorn), adrenaline pumping through his veins, he suddenly saw Fae. If he would have had the time, Peter would have stopped to watch her. She sat on her horse, moving really elegant, for as elegant you can move when you're killing minotaurs while sitting on a horse, with a serious look on her face. A few meters away from here was Edmund, sitting on Philip and firing arrows, and although Peter wished he could send Edmund back home, he was proud that his brother could take such a good care of himself. Suddenly Fae whipped around, firing an arrow in Edmund's direction, and Peter slipped a yell when it almost hit him. But instead of Edmund it hit a dwarf, who was trying to attack him from behind. Suddenly something overshadowed him. He looked behind him and saw the Witch had sent her evil giants in.
"Ooh, shit," Peter muttered when one of them came too close, "No way," and he ran away when a few of Fae's nymphs started letting a rain of arrows down on the giant. The battle went on and on, and Peter noticed how his forces were getting tired. Still, how many creatures they killed, the Witch's forces seemed to be indestructible. Fae appeared next to him on her horse.
"How many have you killed?" Peter asked panting, while slashing another demon to the ground and killing it.
"There's no single minotaur left in Narnia," she replied.
"Good j- wow!" Peter said, pointing to one of her dryades who was getting cornered by two minotaurs.
"Sweet jesus, they duplicate," Fae said before she raced to aid the dryade. Peter grinned, but yelled when a dwarf smashed him to the ground with his club. He managed to get on his feet almost immediatly, only to get smashed back on his back in the grass again. He blocked another blow from the dwarf and then stabbed his sword right into his chest (the evil dwarfs as well as the good ones didn't want to wear armour, it kind of frustrated Peter). They're with too many, Peter thought, We're never going to win this.
Edmund pulled his sword out of the dead body of a snowleopard, and quickly turned around when Philip said so, to kill another that had leaped up to him.
"Can you handle it, Philip?" he then asked.
"Can you?" replied the horse in his grumpy voice, and Edmund snickered. Behind him he heard Peter's voice shouting something at Fae, but he couldn't hear what he was saying.
"Edmund!" he then heard Fae shouting and he turned around.
"What?"
For a moment she was distracted by shooting a minotaur, but then she turned back.
"We can't take them," she shouted, "Take my archers and lead them to the rocks. Fire them when we've taken them close enough."
Edmund gave a nod, and turned with Philip.
"Archers!" he shouted as hard as he could, "Follow me!"
He layed flat on Philips back, who was racing as hard as his legs could have.
"Edmund!" Edmund forced Philip to a sudden stop. He cursed. A few meters away from him stood Peter face to face with the Witch nearby a tree, growing against one of the rocks. He was frantically trying to block her attacks, which she made with a straight, ice cold face. She was really bloody brilliant with her sword.
"Edmund!" yelled Peter, "They're with too many! Get the girls, and get them home!"
Edmund looked at the archers, who were throwing him confused looks. Edmund wasn't sure whether to follow Fae or Peter's orders. So then he decided to do neither.
"Lead the archers, Philip," Edmund said.
"Edm-" But Edmund had already jumped off, running towards Peter and the Witch. She had now thrown Peter to the ground, attacking him again and again, so he could barely block them. Edmund ran as quickly as he could while raising his sword, and as the Witch raised her wand, he shattered the wand to pieces. She turned around, for a moment disoriented by the broken wand. But when she looked at Edmund, her eyes were full of fury, and with one fluent move, she stabbed. Peter watched powerless how the sharp end of the wand disappeared in Edmund's flesh. Then his little brother fell to the ground, not moving, barely breathing.
"Fae!" Peter shouted, now giving the Witch furious attacks of his own, "Help!"
Fae looked at him over her shoulder, but he gestured to Edmund and her gaze dropped to the ground. Then her eyes widened with fear, and she turned her horse. A large minotaur jumped inbetween her and Edmund.
"Oh, not now!" Peter heard her yell before she killed him off, "You're in my way!"
"Goddamn minotaurs," he then heard her mutter, and he even managed to smile inbetween two of the Witch's attacks. Fae raced up to Edmund, jumping of her horse and grabbing his arm, to roughly drag him towards the tree.
"Careful!" Peter shouted, quickly raising his shield to block an attack that was aimed on his head. But ofcourse he did understand that Fae had no time to be careful. The Witch then managed to smash him to the ground again. Peter screamed in agony as the blade of one of her swords sank in the flesh of his arm. Then she raised the other sword. Peter knew this was his end, he was going to die. He found himself quickly looking around the battlefield. Susan was getting pretty skilled with a sword, and was now fighting with a demon. He then looked at the tree, but Edmund was gone and so was Fae. When he searched for them, he found Fae on her horse again, riding towards her archers on the rocks. He knew she had put Edmund in the tree, and if the situation wouldn't have been so terrifying, the thought would've made him laugh.
"Bye, little King," the Witch said, but then she got completely distracted (just like Peter and everyone else present), by a mighty roar, coming from the highest rockformation.
"Do you feel any better?"
Peter looked up, and saw Fae, sitting next to his bed. She had kept him locked up in this tent for two whole hours now. The battle had been exhausting. With every second victory had seemed further and further away. Until Lucy came. With Aslan. From there things got way better. The number of creatures Aslan had taken with him (from the Witch's castle, Peter heard afterwards) were of great help, and finally victory came. The Witch was dead. Aslan had killed her.
"Yes," he said, "I am fine! Will you now let me see Edmund?"
"Edmund is okay, Peter," Fae said, "You need to rest."
"You too," Peter replied in a childish voice. Fae snickered.
"I've been through these things many times before, I know how much I can handle," she said, making Peter pissed off. It was silent for a moment. Suddenly Peter realized he had not yet thanked Fae.
"Fae, about you showing up; I have no words to tell you –"
"Shh," Fae layed a finger on his lips, "It's okay."
She looked him in the eyes, and they smiled.
"Peter," her voice was soft and warm, "Tell me, did you honestly believe for one single second, that I would have deserted you?"
Peter catched her eye. He smiled and shook his head.
"No," he whispered.
"Neither did I," she said smiling, and she stood up, "I'm going to see Edmund."
"Ooh! Why can't I go?" Peter exclaimed. Fae said nothing. She stuck out her tongue and then left him. He sighed bored, and then decided to go and try to get out. To his surprise, he could. He had stayed in his tent for two whole hours while he could've gotten out whenever he wanted! He walked to the improvised Hospital in a huge tent in the middle of the camp. The first person he saw, when he came in, was Susan. She was in a small private section (the whole tent was put up in tiny chambers with beds for all the wounded), trying to make a reluctant Lucy take a pill. Peter almost fainted of the thrill that flushed through his body when he saw her well and alive.
"Come on, Lu," she said tired, "It's for your own good."
"I don't want to!" Lucy exclaimed.
"Lucy! It's just going to make you sleep!"
"I don't want to sleep,"
"You have to sleep, you're tired,"
"I'm not tired!"
Susan sighed.
"Fine," she said annoyed and put the pill on a small table. She stood up and turned around, immediatly bumping into Peter.
"Peter!" she said a little startled.
"Susan," Peter sighed with some kind of relieval in his voice. Then Susan's face brightened and she threw herself in his embrace.
"Oh, Peter!" she said, "You have no idea how happy I am to see you! How are you?"
"I'm fine, Sue," Peter replied, "And you? Have you kept yourself safe in the battle? I was trying to look after you, but I can't do twenty things at a time."
Susan chuckled.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she said, and suddenly Peter kissed her. Out of nothing. It was so sudden that it startled Susan at first, but two seconds later she felt herself relaxing like she had held her breath for two months. But when they finally parted, she had no time to feel good about it, for Fae stood before them. She was leaning against a cupboard, watching them.
"Didn't I tell you to stay in your bed?" she said to Peter.
"Fae," started Peter, but Fae cut him off with a soft grin.
"I know," she said, and Peter threw her a surprised look. She snickered again, "I'm not as stupid as you, not to see that you are simply meant for eachother."
Her look passed Peter to Susan, and she smiled. Susan shyly returned the gesture.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to check on my mates," Fae then said and she walked away. Peter rushed after her.
"Fae, wait up," he said, and Fae turned around with a smile.
"What is it?"
"I –" Peter started and he sighed, "I'm sorry, Fae."
"For what?" she said mocking, "Finding your true love? Oh come on, Peter."
"So you don't mind?" Peter asked. She grinned again and her look dropped to the ground. When she looked up again, her look was clear.
"I wouldn't say I don't mind," she said smiling, "I really did love you Peter."
"I loved you to," Peter replied, "In fact I still do. But different. Susan's just -"
He looked at Susan, who had picked up her attempts to get a still reluctant Lucy to take her sleepingpill.
"You know what I think?" Fae said, and Peter looked back at her.
"What?"
"That we've mixed strong curiosity for something new up with love," she said, and she smiled. Peter found that a very nice thought, but he had to disagree.
"No," he said, and he smiled back, "I love you."
Fae grinned. She's just like Edmund, Peter thought, hiding the emotions.
"Ah, we were always more like friends anyway," she said, and Peter agreed.
"And you know what?" Fae said, "I'll run you through with my sword if you're going to leave Susan."
Peter laughed.
"Even if I would want to leave her, you'll never get the chance of running me through," he replied, "I'm much better with a sword than you are!"
"What?" Fae's jaw dropped, "That is not true!"
"Oh, that is so true," Peter said.
"Is that a challenge?" Fae asked.
"Do you want to make it a challenge?" Peter replied. Fae threw him a thoughtful look with an amused smile on her lips.
"You got yourself a match, boy," she said, taking the hand he offered her.
"Good," he replied, "You're going to lose."
"We'll see. Now I'm going to check on Edmund."
"Didn't you just came back from Edmund?"
Fae just shrugged with a guilty smile on her face.