between footsteps (is a lifetime)

Summary: What if, on that fateful day, only three Pevensies went looking for the white stag? This fic is a darker version of 'Prince Caspian' that begins when the Pevensies return to England after ten years in Narnia, but by a twist of fate, Lucy gets left behind.

Prologue

It began with rumours of a white stag in the woods. It ended there too.

"I bet you I can find it on my own," said Edmund, over breakfast. "Philip and I will have it done and dusted by this afternoon."

"Oh please," Susan scoffed. "Everyone knows the only way to take down a stag is with an archer. Last time I checked you gave up on target practise when you were twelve."

Edmund's cheeks went red and he muttered, "Not my fault I had a bad teacher."

"A bad teacher, how dare you—" With feigned indignation, Susan grabbed a napkin and started beating Edmund over the head with it.

Lucy pushed eggs around her plate with her fork and watched the exchange with mild amusement, exchanging a grin with Peter, who was happily taking a swig of orange juice. They were, like always, having breakfast on the palace balcony that overlooked the roiling, glistening waters of the beach below. The first time they had breakfast on the balcony was on the morning after their coronation, when the party carried on all night and eventually spilled into the next day. Not that Lucy was awake for most of it. She was told she passed out on Peter's lap early on in the festivities.

All she remembered was waking at dawn, to the sight of her siblings sprawled across the balcony and the sun peaking over the horizon, its golden rays streaking across the water. Edmund and Susan were conversing quietly over a platter of toast and scrambled eggs. Peter was asleep, his chest rising and falling beneath Lucy's head. Later, all she could remember of that morning would be listening to the murmur of her siblings' voices and glancing up to see her big brother's hair turned golden by the light of the rising sun. She was so small then. It was so easy to crawl into Peter's arms and feel like he could make the whole world safe.

That morning—the very first morning at Cair Paravel—started a tradition. No matter where they are or what they're doing, no matter how they spend their days or their nights, they always come together for breakfast on the balcony. It was Lucy's favourite part of the day.

Across the table, Peter winked. "I think you girls can stay in the palace," he declared, pointedly including Edmund in the statement. "I'll get the stag myself."

This prompted another explosion of sound from the arguing Pevensies. Lucy giggled and immediately winced, feeling a sharp pain in her stomach. She didn't realise she'd made a sound until she noticed the arguing had stopped and Lucy looked up to see everyone staring at her in concern.

"Are you alright Lucy?" Susan asked, worry etched on her face. "You're looking a bit peaky."

There was a screech as Peter quickly pushed his chair back and came around to her side of the table to press the back of his hand to her forehead. "She's a bit warm," he muttered. Their siblings made concerned sounds.

Lucy rolled her eyes and winced again when it made her head hurt. "She? She? I'm eighteen Peter. Don't talk about me like I'm not here."

"Lu, you're sick."

Lucy pulled her brother's hand away from her forehead and curled her fingers around it.

"I'm fine," she said, ignoring the growing nausea in her gut and the ache behind her eyes. "I'm just tired. I'll drink some water and we can go hunting at noon."

Peter tightened his grip on her hand and shook his head. "The stag can wait."

"It can't. God if you're so worried then you can go without me. I'll stay in bed and rest. Mr Tumnus is here until Monday. He can keep an eye on me and when you come back from your hunt you can tell me all about it."

A muscle jumped in Peter's jaw and his eyes seemed to bore into hers. "Are you sure?" he asked.

A memory sprang to mind, of Edmund shoving Peter and shouting, Shut up! You think you're Dad but you're not. She might have agreed with the sentiment at the time, but she couldn't say she did anymore. For Lucy, who was all of eight years old when they stumbled into Narnia and could barely remember London, Peter really had become more of a parent than a brother. He divided his time between his kingly duties and looking after her. But Lucy wasn't a child anymore.

"I'll be fine," she insisted. "Go and have fun without me, I promise I'll still be here when you get back."

So, on that fateful day, three Pevensie siblings packed a lunch and left the palace at noon to go looking for a white stag. On his way out, Peter dropped a kiss on his little sister's forehead and promised he'd be back soon.

.

He wasn't.