Part II of the Tragedy.
Ye who seek a joyful ending, cease thine perusal on the prior chapter.
Disclaimer: If you haven't learned this by my 56th story, when will you? None of this is really mine.
Beta'd by trustingHim17, in spite of her swamped life with Whumptober, writing bingo, and other fun things!
A/N: I am so, so sorry. I had this ready to publish on Saturday, waited for Tuesday, and FORGOT. Whumptober is challenging me enough I have little brain power left. I am so sorry!
OOOOO
Lucy woke up quite uncomfortable. Susan lay close on one side, a furnace of heat, and her blankets were still cocooned around her, so she was warm. The sky was still dark, the light of dawn just hovering in the east.* The ground was never as comfortable as her bed, but it was smooth and grassy. But for some reason her head hurt.
Oh, the metal of her crown had bumped against the campfire stones during the night, and now it was digging into her head. She rolled onto her back, to get the crown away from the stones, and yawned. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep.
And immediately opened them again, sitting up. Her hand reached up to touch the hard, intricate metal of her very familiar accessory.
She was still wearing it. The campfire stones hadn't budged it off her head. She curled her fingers around the front portion—this felt very familiar by now—and tugged.
It didn't move.
Lucy sighed, lay back down, and went to sleep.
When she woke, a couple hours later, it was because Susan was stirring beside her. Lucy did not want to wake up. She didn't want to deal with the problem that, somehow, still hung around their heads. She turned on her side, eyes traveling from Susan's crown to the eyes moving rapidly beneath closed eyelids, and Lucy smiled as an idea occurred to her. It probably wasn't something she should do, and it was more of an Edmund idea, but, well, it might be fun. It might make them all laugh as the day began. As Susan's eyelids fluttered open, Lucy leaned close and whispered "Boo!"
Susan yelped, pushing Lucy back with both arms and pushing herself straight into Edmund, who, without stirring or waking at all, responded to the laws of nature and crashed into Peter. Peter woke at once, his hand grabbing Rhindon and unsheathing it in a half-second. Not fully awake, he used his sword to rip his restraining blanket in one long tear, springing to his feet while blinking and looking for trouble. Several of the Narnians who'd been sleeping around the campfire also jumped to their feet, struggling for their weapons and looking wildly for a threat. Their questions, grunts, and alarmed whinnies broke through to the slowly stirring Edmund. He sat up heavily, blinking, to discover Peter standing over him with a sword. His brother's face began to crease into a deep scowl, Susan was breathing heavily, a tear falling from the corner of her eye, and Lucy sat looking very, very sorry.
Lucy did feel extremely sorry. This was probably why some pranks were better left to Edmund, she thought, since he judged the results of them better than she did. Unless it was against Peter.
Lucy put her arms around Susan. "I'm sorry," she offered in a small voice, wiping the one tear away. Susan's shoulders trembled in small tremors, and Lucy could hear the way her breaths were far too quick. "I didn't mean to scare you that badly." Peter looked about to say something, but Susan shook her head at him, and patted Lucy's arm around her shoulder, and Peter sheathed his sword and sat back down, still scowling. He took a moment to erase the scowl before nodding at the Narnians, who set down their pickaxes and swords. Lucy heard a few grumbles as they got back in bed—particularly from the Dwarfs—before looking back at her siblings. Edmund was staring straight at her.
"I think Oreius might have you start waking all the troops for breakfast," he said with a straight face. Lucyhesitated, unsure if he was mocking or teasing her. One dark eye closed as he winked.
She looked down, fighting to hold in her smile at his solidarity. She didn't want her older siblings any grumpier at the moment.
"Oh, haha, very funny," Peter retorted.
"Come on, you know it was. You should have seen yourself, High King Peter the Mighty standing over his sleeping siblings, a ruined blanket at his feet!"
"Let me see," Lucy heard Susan ask, and she heard the rustling of heavy cloth as the blanket was passed over. Lucy still didn't look up, since she was pretty sure Edmund would make her laugh. "It can be mended, but not invisibly. What were you thinking, Peter?"
"That something hit me and yesterday we were fleeing a stone army," Peter snapped, and the rest went quiet.
"Sorry," Lucy said again softly, after a moment. Peter sighed.
"I apologise for my temper."
"Peace all round, then, and now that that's finished, I'm going to point out what should have been obvious to all of us." Edmund looked around the circle. "I suppose it isn't, since we've become so accustomed to them, but it appears none of our crowns came off during the night." The two older siblings paused, both reaching towards their crowns and tugging. Lucy didn't bother trying.
Peter sat with a sigh. "I suppose it's too much to hope the spell will just wear off."
"If it doesn't, what will happen as we get older?" Susan asked, and Lucy winced at the image of the immovable circle growing too small for her head.
"We'll go home, find out what we can about their magic, and how we can help them. That's enough to start." Peter got back to his feet, turning towards the campfire. "For now let's just have breakfast."
There was a river nearby, and several of the soldiers went fishing with the Kings, while the girls helped others pack up the campsite. Somewhere between rolling up blankets and stomping down the small piles of dirt the pickaxes had made, the cleaned fish made it onto the fire, and the air filled with the scent of a mouth-watering breakfast. Nearby Squirrels, alerted to the presence of their Sovereigns by Birds, added nuts, and Dryads brought herbs and berries. It was a much better meal than the one in the Telar's dwelling, Lucy decided. They broke camp soon afterwards, and began the long ride back to Cair Paravel. There was no sign of pursuit.
"Oreius?" Lucy asked. It was her turn to ride the Centaur, though messengers had gone to Cair Paravel and would presumably return with horses.
"Yes?"
"Do you think the Telar will come back?"
"I think we would make sure they regretted coming near you again."
"But I think they might."
"Why does your Majesty think so?"
"Because evil things don't give up easily," Lucy said, remembering the way the Fell had attacked again and again, in the years since they were beaten. "And the Telar that aren't evil are desperate."
Oreius was quiet. "I will see to your Majesties' safety," he promised at length.
"Thank you, Oreius. I'm going to start carrying my dagger, too." She waited, still thinking. "Oreius?"
"Yes?"
"The Telar had these people who were to keep the King safe, one in particular, named Jumak." Lucy hesitated. "If one of us were killed, Oreius, what would you do to the one who killed him?"
"I would see justice done, and that swiftly," Oreius promised, and Lucy shivered.
"But what if it was an accident?"
"An accident?"
"Susan killed the Telar King by accident." Lucy's voice fell to a whisper as she remembered that scream, the scream that hadn't made sense to her at the time. Jumak's cry of "My King!" had shot through her with heartbreaking anguish.
"Your brother told me nothing of this."
"He wasn't there."
"How?" Lucy looked up sharply at his tone, for it was curious, weighing, and she knew, suddenly, what he was thinking. What a soldier thinks, when he hears one of his enemies have been killed.
"They fall still if they use too much magic, and when they are, they're helpless. They're so frail a single touch can crumble them."
"And so Queen Susan saved her brother with a touch," Oreius murmured.
"It's hard not to touch them," Lucy confessed. "They look so sad, some of them. Like I used to imagine Mr. Tumnus looked, after she turned him to stone."
Oreius said nothing for a few more steps, and then Lucy felt his sides heave out and in with a sigh. "And so they live in a city of victims. Victims of their own magic, and their own inability to let someone else save them."
Lucy didn't answer, but she rested her head on his back at the compassion in his words.
They camped another night. Their horses, soldiers, and worried friends met them in the morning. Susan bore the chaos as gracefully as she could, but she longed for home, for quiet. She dreamed of the crumbled King's face shattering every night, waking with tears falling down her cheeks, cold in the night air. She'd slow her breathing, looking at the stars and seeking their peace. She held determinedly to her resolution not to wake her siblings.
And she succeeded. They woke in the morning (Oreius standing over them and calling them respectfully this time, though Susan noticed his mouth twitched when he woke Lucy), ate, cleaned up the camp, mounted, and before the sun rose fully over the trees they were on their way again.
And the ride dragged on. Susan could feel the weight of what she'd done pressing on her heart. There were moments of joy—she'd look over and see Edmund riding, eyes alert, or hear him laugh when Peter challenged him to this or that game, the Dwarfs egging them on and Lucy joining in—and Lucy winning. But Susan had no heart for games. She had won Edmund's life, and she didn't regret it, she told herself fiercely. She hadn't meant to kill the King, and she had saved Aslan's King, her brother, in doing so, and that should be enough.
But the way he'd looked—she kept remembering. The way he'd just fallen, as if he hadn't the strength to hold himself together any longer-
Had that passed through the touch to her?
As the hours went on she felt the same, like her soul was cracking in pieces, and she could barely hold herself together. Her siblings noticed something, riding closer to her as the day wore on, trying to draw her out in conversation, Lucy mentioning the beauty of Narnia as they rode through it—but that just made it harder. How could she break if there were people around?
They stopped earlier than usual, and Susan wondered if they'd stopped for her, if it was that obvious. She slipped away from the camp as soon as she could . They were days into Narnia now, almost home, in a wooded forest too thick for the Telar to fly. She'd be safe here. She just had to get away. She slipped around the trees, patting the one that moved out of her way—it must be a Dryad's home—till she finally came to a place where the crowding branches blocked even the light, too small for the Telar, too small for any but the smaller animals. She sat at the foot of the tree, folding her arms around her knees, and trying to breathe. She waited.
Her knees grew hot against her face as she breathed into them, but the feeling of breaking within didn't go away. She did not know how to heal herself.
It was then that she noticed the area around her growing light, the darkness turning to gold, the poking limbs of trees outlined black against it. This was a Golden Light she knew.
She hid from it, burying her head back in her knees. Not now, not when she was hurting, when the guilt would be written all over the hand that touched that shattered King, not now.
"Susan." The warmth breath washed over her, and she shivered. His voice was as gentle as she'd ever heard, and she wondered if He knew. But He did, He had to. This Lion who breathed stone back to life must know she'd done the opposite. "You did not mean him harm."
"I didn't," Susan blurted, crying. "I didn't mean to, Aslan, I didn't mean to hurt him. But he crumbled, and it's all my fault." The great golden head moved closer, resting on her shoulder, and she turned to bury her head in His mane as she'd once buried her hands, and the wild, sweet smell surrounded her.
"All things have their time."
"Even Kings?"
"Kings, nations, empires, and worlds, all but My Country must end. Only there is life everlasting." Susan shuddered at the finality of it, holding tight to the golden hair. "He would have forgiven you, child."
Susan slowly let go, pulling back and wiping her eyes. "He would have?"
"He had seen too much of suffering not to know what was in your heart when you reached out. But you are not reacting as you should. Tell me, fair one, what did the Telar do that they should not have?"
"They used magic to try to fix themselves," Susan whispered.
"And what are you doing here alone?" Susan did not answer, for though she had not tried magic, she had tried to fix herself. "Go to your family, beloved. Even now your sister is telling them what happened in the courtyard, and they will be ready to receive you. You are not meant to bear this alone." With a Lion's kiss on her forehead, Aslan was gone.
Susan wiped her eyes, shaking her fingers to get rid of the drops, and stood, dusting the dirt off her skirt. She smoothed her hair as best she could under the crown, hoped her eyes were clear, and walked back to camp. She nodded as the Dwarf sentries bowed, their beards sweeping the ground, and then she was through them and heading for the campfire. She walked quietly enough she could hear Lucy saying, "And then I got there and there were pieces of him all over, and Susan was crying, saying he was the King. And seconds later Jumak appeared, furious, and we had to run, and there wasn't time to think about it-" and Susan heard the waver in her sister's voice, and suddenly the same compassion that had moved her with the King moved her now, with better results. She walked into the circle, reaching to Lucy with one arm.
"Susan…" Edmund's voice trailed off, staring at her anxiously, and beside her Lucy snuggled closer, wrapping her arms around Susan's waist.
"What can we do?" Peter asked quietly. Susan saw his eyes, as warm as the firelight they reflected, and as strong as the living stone arms had been.
"This is enough," Susan replied, realising it was true. Lucy's arms around her waist, Peter's question, Edmund's stare—it was a love that filled the cracks inside, cracks that would fade with time. "But Peter, I never want to go to war again."
"I will do my best to make sure you never have to."
The Four sat in silence for a while.
"Something is still haunting you," Edmund said suddenly, his eyes still on Susan. Lucy looked up inquiringly, and Susan sighed and looked back at Edmund.
"I am so glad you're safe," she said softly. "But I can't help wondering—what if I knew?"
"If you knew?"
"If I knew he was the King, and a single touch could kill him and save your life. If I knew-"
"What would you have done," Lucy finished for her. Susan looked back at her brother, seeking his judgement. And Peter's, for though Peter did not weigh hearts as Edmund had begun to, he did what was right with an unfailing heart.
Edmund was slowly shredding a piece of grass as he thought. "We're not told what would have happened," he said slowly.
"No, but what should have happened?" Peter answered. "Think on it, Ed—on the one hand, he's helpless, and it's not like he was a part of Zedekah's plan, not an active part, anyway. But on the other hand, he's the King."
"And is therefore never quite an innocent bystander, for he represents the country at war." Edmund grimaced. "But when you say he was not a part of Zedekah's plan, it's just that he was. Their plan needed him."
"But if you'd seen his face—oh, Edmund, he never would have wanted it. He would have hated that they killed you for his life." Susan felt her eyes fill again, and let Lucy go to cover her face, to breathe for a moment. Lucy's arms stayed wrapped around her waist, and Susan felt again the love in her family's regard, no longer smothering, after her conversation with Aslan. She dropped her hands. "If it had been a choice between you and him—what should I have done?"
"Could you have killed the helpless, knowing he wanted you to, to save your brother?" Edmund let out his breath. "I'm-"
The sound of cracking branches, faint heavy footsteps, and Dwarf shouts interrupted him, and the Four reacted, the boys grabbing their swords, Susan grabbing Lucy's hand as she stood, ready to run. Red and Black Dwarfs surrounded them, pickaxes held in their hands. All of them listened, waiting with quick breaths and tensed muscles.
"It sounded like a large bear," Peter said. "Talking, Friendly, or Fell?"
"We'll know soon enough," Edmund said grimly. "Hear the footsteps getting closer?"
"And the shouts, your Majesties," a Dwarf put in. "That's my cousin, and he'd wake a Giant."
They paused again, listening. The Dwarf voices got louder, finally loud enough to make out.
"Come on, then, if you say you come in peace. But no tricks!" A minute later several Dwarfs spilled into the clearing, and walking behind them was a large, bear-like figure, grey in the firelight, but wingless.
"Khonat?" four voices asked at once.
OOOOO
*I know this is entirely unrelated and unnecessary, but if Narnia is a flat world, and the sun moves around it, then actually there's no guarantee the sun does rise in the east and set in the west. Which was a funny thought to me. trustingHim17 pointed out the sun rose for the first time in Narnia's eastern sky, though, so Lewis kept it consistent. :)
A/N: GUYS GUYS GUYS someone made ART for a scene in this chapter! My breathless thanks (accompanied by a repressed squeal of sheer happiness) to Calyn, who posted the scene between Susan and Aslan at fav dot me slash de9j1ui.