Chapter Twenty-Seven: Reflection

Many thanks to AmyAmidala, Thalion King's Daughter and Capegio for their contributions to this chapter, and to Almyra for the chocolate.

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"That was foolish," Phillip insisted an hour later.

"Yes," I agreed, "it was. But I had to try."

He had expected an argument and not getting one gave him pause. We were sheltered in a cave above the waterline. To my everlasting relief, there was dry wood scattered about the cave floor and I hauled more branches in to dry as I made a fire. It was still fairly early in the day to stop, but I was weary and sore and Phillip was angry and we both needed a break, as much from each other as the weather. Half a mile behind us, I had killed a deer. We had come across the poor beast suffering from two broken legs, clearly a result of the floods, and I dispatched it with two arrows. I needed meat badly, just as I needed to be dry and warm and to sleep.

I stood up, checking to be sure I had my knife so I could return and butcher the deer. "I'll be back in a little while," I said, and he understood I wanted to be alone for the moment. Horses were always nervous around blood and large, dead animals anyway.

"King Peter?" called the Horse as I donned my cape and stepped out into the rain. I paused, waiting for him to speak. "You did the right thing. You were right not to listen to me."

I looked back at him. He was rather dejected and I managed a faint smile. "You were right as well, and I will never fault your devotion, Phillip."

I limped through the thick woods, able to follow our trail fairly easily, thinking as I went. Had I been arrogant, insisting on helping? I was fortunate to have saved the two baby Krakens, but the results could have been very, very different. As it was I had a whole host of new bruises and I had a cut inside my mouth that would keep me from smiling for the next week and my jaw - actually, my entire head - ached terribly. Had I imperilled this quest? I could have been badly injured or killed and Phillip would have been left alone in the wilderness

On the other hand, if I had ridden away and left the mother Kraken mourning after her children, I never, never would have forgiven myself and I would have been haunted all my days by the memory of what might have been. There was no easy answer. I was not so in love with my authority and titles that I expected my subjects to agree with every decision I made and quite often their arguments were based on wisdom and knowledge greater than mine. I liked to think that I had sense enough to listen. I welcomed contrary opinions when things were open to debate. In the case of the Krakens, however, there had been no debate and Phillip had refused to accept that.

Today was not the first time he had argued my decisions. A day away from the Winged Horses he had asked why I didn't fly to Narnia with Rhye and deliver the apple. I had scoffed. As if I would leave him alone for days on end within striking distance of Pennon, whom I trusted not at all. Rhye had done all I could ask. I would not ask more of her. She was in trouble enough with her father already. I wouldn't compound her problems for my own ends, especially since she hadn't offered. Who was I to ask her to leave her home? I could invite her to Narnia, I would not order her there. Besides, Frank had told me to return by the way I came and dead or alive, real or not, High King or otherwise, I would no more ignore advice from Narnia's first king than I would ignore Aslan. Phillip had been most unhappy with my decision and stayed quiet all that day. Foolishly, I had not called him on it. I should have addressed the issue then.

Perhaps he thought too much, or too little, of the authority of kings.

I rarely put my foot down, but when I did I had good reason and my brother and sisters recognized this and generally responded. Usually only Edmund went down with a fight and backed off only so long as I listened to and considered his point of view. He didn't require that I followed his words, just listen to another viewpoint. They didn't obey because I was High King. The four thrones were identical in all ways, none higher or grander than another, and I had the title and role of High King by virtue of being born first. They listened when I spoke because they knew our parents depended on me to take care of them and look after them and I had done my best by them all my life.

Anyone that thought to address me above my siblings found themselves swiftly corrected.

I spotted the carcass of the deer a little ahead. It was still warm when I reached it, but quite dead. I touched its head, quietly thanking it, glad it was out of pain. Then I stripped off the cape and gloves and began the messy job of butchering it, my cold fingers stiff and clumsy until I held them against the deer's side. Every movement revealed more tender spots on my body. There was very little of me that didn't hurt. I would have liked to rest a few days, but my pain, at least, would fade in a few days whereas Edmund's was renewed nightly.

Perhaps Phillip had presumed upon our friendship or perhaps he put his promise to Oreius over any authority I might have. Yes, I was a child, but I wouldn't be one forever. Yes, I was inexperienced, but I was learning. Yes, I feared making decisions that might bring about suffering or even death to those that served me, but I did the best I could and stood by my decisions once made. And yes, it was by Aslan's grace that I was a king, and as such I had done everything in my power to be worthy of the title and his faith.

But I didn't want Phillip - or anyone - to obey me simply because I was a king.

In my eyes, that wasn't reason enough. That was why I applied myself so hard to my studies, why I worried so far into the night, why I pushed myself so relentlessly. I wanted to be worthy even if Edmund insisted I was overqualified for the role I filled. I could never see myself the way he and the girls see me. If I ever did I was sure I'd dismiss it as a fit of vanity, anyway.

I understood Phillip's worry was as much for me as for Edmund, but short of Lasa enchanting me I had never lost sight of what this quest was about and I did not need a reminder. Edmund was constantly in my thoughts. I wondered what he was doing and if he was in class at any given time or riding with a pack of Dogs streaming behind him or sitting quietly with the girls and Aslan. I had not mentioned the dream to Phillip even though it haunted my thoughts. It seemed too intimate and private a moment between the Lion and my brother for me to repeat to anyone, even Phillip, though I remembered it so vividly I could recite every word and describe every gesture. I took it as a warning from Aslan not to tarry, so I scarcely needed a reminder as why I was here.

I peeled back the deer's hide. I wasn't very good at butchering large game like this, but out here it didn't really matter. The keen blade Edmund had made me kept its edge very well and I got grim satisfaction as I vented my anger and resentment in physical activity.

Phillip was motivated out of love, I knew, as I was. My words to him held true, I could not fault his devotion. We both wanted and needed this quest to succeed. For that to happen, though, we needed to talk. He had disobeyed me when we fought the Slinn and now he had argued against me helping the Kraken. The path ahead was only going to get more difficult as winter approached. I had to make him understand that there was a time for debate and a time to act, and when to do one or the other.

Taking as much venison as I could carry, I wrapped the meat in a piece of oilcloth I usually used to cover my blankets. There was plenty of small pools about and I washed up carefully. I sat on a fallen tree for a few minutes and rested, concentrating on just breathing and listening to the patter of the rain on the leaves as I gathered the strength and courage and energy to keep going. I drew in my breath for a sigh and it escaped me in a sob. I wasn't ever sure why, but for a few moments I just sat...and wept. Whether for the drowned Kraken or my falling out with Phillip or missing my family so desperately or just for myself, so wet and miserable, I could never say. It wasn't long before I had cried myself out, and I felt better for it. Finally I gained my sore feet and carried the heavy bundle and the arrows back to the cave, pausing to gather some slim branches in order to roast the meat.

"Ho, Phillip!" I called before I reached the cave, letting him know I was there. He looked relieved to see me and I immediately set about cooking the venison, knowing he disliked the smell of raw meat. It wasn't long before I was eating some smaller scraps of venison off a stick as the larger pieces slowly cooked, forcing myself to take small bites and to chew slowly because of the cut in my mouth. It was a relief to eat and I hadn't realized until now how hungry I had been all day. That, I was certain, was part of the problem.

Adding more wood to the fire, I sat back, staring at the flames and enjoying the relative warmth. Finally I rose and stepped over to the Horse, eager to get this over with as quickly as possible. I suspect he felt the same way.

"Phillip?"

"Yes, Majesty?"

I took a deep breath. "I understand and appreciate the worry you have for me and Edmund, but there are times for arguing and times for obeying. I have obeyed you when the situation demands it. Kindly do the same for me. I trust you. Please trust me and my decisions."

"I do, King Peter," he said softly. "I argue because I love you."

I smiled, feeling tears in my eyes. I did not want to start crying again, so I leaned my cheek against his, wrapping my arms around his neck in a fierce hug. "I know, cousin. And I know I have your loyalty. I just hope to gain your respect as well."

"You have that and more, Peter," he said back. "That and far, far more, High King."

I drew back, gazing into his eyes. "I promise I'll try to make keeping your promise to Oreius easier."

The Horse snorted, relieved, then sighed. "I won't hold you to that."