Her Blood on His Lips

What followed were sensations and sounds.

Saedra felt pain, intense pain. The pain was so strong that she'd completely lose consciousness, only to regain it once again with more pain. She heard sounds: a man's deep sobs, a girl's hot tears, a baby's weak cry. She felt someone grasping her hand, weeping into her chest. Voices yelled. Sharp pain in her arms...her abdomen...her head. Dull aching in her legs alternating with strong bursts of agonizing throbbing...

She drifted in and out, too weak to move or open her eyes. Time meant nothing. Sometimes someone would spoon soup and liquids into her mouth, and she'd instinctively swallow it. But she didn't want the food. She couldn't taste it.

She heard voices that she vaguely recognized but couldn't understand. A deep, manly voice made her feel safe…and guilty, as if she'd forgotten to do something. A young accented voice begged her to wake up. If only she had the strength!

A soft, soothing voice of a woman made Saedra want to cry, reminding her of happier times. She heard another voice, a younger one, which made her want to be brave. Another heavily accented voice made her long for family, though she couldn't picture them...it was too hard...she didn't have the strength...

And then there was a voice which pierced through her confusion, drawing her out of her shock-induced numbness. It was soft, tender, and wretchedly miserable. It was a man's voice; not as deep as the first, but more meaningful to her.

"Sae," he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling it. "It's me. Please. Please, Sae. Come back to me."

The person was caressing her cold hand. Did she have the strength to open her eyes? Oh, how she wanted to!

"Sae," he choked. "Please. I'm going insane. I keep remembering the last time we were alone—what I said-"

It cost her dearly, but her eyes slowly opened and focused on him. Edmund was the only one in the room in which she lay. His eyes were bloodshot, his face scruffy. He hadn't been taking proper care of himself.

"It's okay," she whispered weakly, hurting at his lamentable appearance. She loathed seeing him suffer. She had to reassure him that everything was okay, before she-

"It's not! I was so jealous and terribly, abhorrently rude…"

A small smile graced her pale green lips. "And I don't blame you. The thought of you and Rahai together...evokes similar passions in me...even if...I try to deny it...to myself."

His voice became harder. "But it was inexcusable, Sae. You were doing the right thing, moving on. I was an ass."

"Are you trying to make...me angry with you?" she joked feebly. "There's nothing you could do...that would...change my affection for you, Edmund."

Affection radiated through her heavily-lidded eyes. She turned her face away as a wave of pain in her abdomen hit her; she didn't want him to see her suffer.

But of course, he saw. His face screwed up at the pitiful sight before him, and he buried his face in her shoulder.

She had so many questions. Why was she so sick? What happened to her? Where was her baby? She felt so light...and weak...What was Edmund doing here? He was supposed to be in Narnia.

But she didn't ask any of those things. She could feel her body giving up. Her time was limited. Words were precious. The pain was too much for one person to handle, and her strength continued to wane.

"Edmund," she rasped. "I can tell…I don't have...much time-"

His head snapped up. "No, no!" he shook his head violently. "I'll get the nurses. We'll try another drop of the cordial-" He moved to leave, but-

"No!" she gasped, weakly trying not to let go of his hand.

She broke into coughing at the strain on her lungs. She felt something wet drip onto her upper lip.

He sat down again, his face a picture of abject misery as he watched her hack.

Saedra was scared of dying, terrified of her weak, vulnerable state. She had the strong urge to cry with fear, but she was too weak for even that. Her eyes couldn't form the tears.

"Ed, I'm fading. I want you to know...that I love you. I'm sorry things…ended up…this way."

Tears slipped from the corners of the King's eyes. He leaned in earnestly. "You know that I love you, Saedra. Always have."

"Listen," she breathed, closing her eyes. She gathered her strength and said, "I cherish every moment we've had together...whether you were reminding me how to shoot...or...whether you were helping me at Lasaraleen's party...and I was drunk...and I told you...that I loved you..."

"You remember that?"

"Oh, yes," she faintly said, a ghost of a smile crossing her lips. Telling him these things was taking time from her body, but it was more than worth it.

"Even though I didn't know...I was falling for you...Peter may have dazzled me...created the romance that I wanted...the ideal man...but you-I can't explain it. You were there...you became part of me...you…in some sense…are me. I can't go anywhere without you...in my mind...Peter has my heart, but you...have captured my soul."

He squeezed her hand until it almost hurt. "If only we could go back-if only Aslan gave us another chance! By the Mane, trying to forget you has been the most futile thing I've ever done, Sae. Every kiss I give to Rahai, I think of you."

Saedra smiled tenderly without speaking. She soaked in his loving words like a sponge.

He continued. "I've been such a damn fool! Rahai doesn't deserve an idiot like me."

"She...she loves you, Ed. Always has. Treat her well...for me...?"

He brought her limp hand to his lips and kissed it twice fiercely. "I will."

"Ed?" she said, darkness starting to close in. She had to concentrate to keep focusing on his tormented eyes.

"Yes?"

"Kiss me," she said, barely audibly.

He stared into her eyes as he unhesitatingly leaned over. He cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her slowly. His tears splashed her face. She was too weak to respond, but he understood. He just kept kissing, gently, moving to her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, her chin.

As he kissed her, she began to numb. Pain was leaving her. She could no longer feel the tender kisses he was giving her, trying to make up for a lifetime of kisses they would never have.

Saedra was floating, looking down on a dark-haired man crouched next to a bed on which lay a woman with a pale, green-tinted face. He was kissing her so tenderly, so wretchedly, crying harder as he did so. She wanted to help that man, but didn't know how.

A bandage was wrapped around the woman's forehead. On the table next to the bed were blood-soaked rags on a tray. So much blood.

Suddenly, the man stopped kissing the still form, studying the woman disbelievingly. He spoke, a question. He tried to wake her up, even shaking her shoulders violently. Her eyes wouldn't open. He stared at her. Shock and despair were on his face.

Blood had dripped from her nose. It was smeared from the kisses now. Some was on his lips, a testament to the morbidity of the scene.

At last he gave a heart-wrenching howl of agony, burying his face in her lifeless chest.

She floated up, higher. She could see a light-haired man standing over a cradle. A golden crown glistened on his head. He was looking down into the cradle, looking at something. What was it? He heard the other man's cries and ran to the other room. His eyes were vacant. He opened the door and strode forward next to the other man, staring down at the dead woman. He looked at the dark-haired man, perhaps seeking someone to mourn with.

The blonde man's expression melted from one of despair to one of shock. He stood as if he had been run through with a sword. He spoke, his mouth forming harsh words, but Saedra couldn't hear it. She suspected she would forget even the sight of this scene; she felt fluid, as if things could pass through her without being retained.

The dark-haired man looked horrified at the other man's words, and his hand flew to his mouth. His mouth was red with the woman's blood.

The other man fled the room, striding furiously though the castle. Saedra wondered what he would do. Why was he so angry?

Higher. Three women and a girl were holding each other in a study. The girl was being held by the light-haired woman: the girl weeping, the young woman staring into space valiantly. The other two women were wiping silent tears from their eyes, looking out at the ocean. They didn't yet know the woman on the bed was dead. They soon would.

As she floated above the castle, she saw the blonde man riding a horse as if a monster was chasing him, far into the forest away from the castle. Escaping reality.

She continued, higher and farther. She was over the ocean, above the clouds.

Higher and farther. Higher and farther.

Saedra was lying on her side on something soft. She opened her eyes slowly and pushed herself onto her elbows. She found that she had been lounging on long green grass in a forest-a very still forest. The trees were high, turning the sunlight into a pleasant green haze. The forest was very quiet, except for the distant sound of a brook.

Saedra slowly stood up, wondering how she happened upon this place. She felt healthy and strong; it felt strange to be well, but she couldn't recall why it was strange.

Where was she? She felt like she should be alarmed, but she wasn't. The tranquility of the forest was palpable, seeping into every pore of her body. She felt more whole than she'd ever felt before. What should she do now? Rest? Explore? She felt as free as a bird, as if she was capable of anything.

The sound of soft footsteps slowly became audible, and she turned in the direction of the sound. A young man was approaching. He wore a navy tunic and leggings. His hair was black, and he had startling blue eyes and a very handsome face. She felt that she should know him, but she couldn't recall where she met him. She curiously waited until he was before her.

He bowed low and reverently said: "Welcome, Mother."

"Uh…?" she said confusedly, looking around to see if he was addressing someone behind her. "Are you talking to me, sir?" She addressed him in such a way because it was obvious that this man was of noble blood.

His eyebrows rose into an amused expression. "I see no one else around, so yes, Mother."

"I think you're a little confused," she said carefully. "I am little more than a couple years old than you. There's no way I could be your mother." He looked like he was about Lucy's age, barely out of his teen years.

And speaking of Lucy, where was she? Where was the rest of her family? Had Saedra gotten lost in the forests of Narnia? No, this forest was too silent.

"Age matters little here. We are all the same age. Should you study your reflection in a brook, you would see that you are my age, not a day older nor a day younger."

"Who is 'we all'?" she asked. "There are more people here?"

"Of course!"

"Where are they? This place is as silent as death."

The man chuckled, as if she had made a funny joke. "I have been told you have a quick wit. The rest are further up and further in."

She chose to ignore the last reply, for she saw she could not get this young man to speak sense. "Who told you I have a quick wit?"

"Lady Gilda. Since I never got the chance to know you or Father, it is up to those who knew you to tell me about you both. I've learned so much about you, I feel as if I know you personally. But of course, now I do!"

"Wha-? You're telling me that Gilda's here?" Saedra exclaimed, looking around eagerly. She had so much to talk to her about!

"Yes, and some other people who you knew."

"Like who?"

"Grandfather Dane and Grandmother Lalevis, and Great-grandmother Sadris."

"Where are they?" This was too good to be true.

"Further in."

"Can I see them?"

"That is for Aslan to decide," he said. "I'm here to bring you to him."

Saedra froze. "Aslan?"

"He wishes to speak with you."

The pieces were falling into place. "If Aslan's here…and all of my deceased family are here…then are you telling me that I'm…I'm dead?"

The man simply watched her as she struggled with the idea.

Saedra felt her body, memories that had been shut out by the tranquility of the forest flooding her mind. She instinctively grabbed at her chest—her necklace was missing. She clutched her flat stomach in horror.

"What happened to my baby?"

He paused, and then said softly. "It's as I said, Mother. I am your son. I'm Willem, the boy you carried and named."

Her face paled. "Then...you're dead too."

He nodded. "Yes. I am. The other isn't."

"What happened?" she asked, choosing again to ignore his strange comments. "How long have you been here?"

He tilted his head, looking puzzled. "How long? I do not know what you mean by that."

"How long…how many minutes, days, hours you've been here…how much time have you been here?" she said in a patronizing tone of voice.

If Dane and the rest were really here, she didn't have patience for games. But then again, he was nothing more than a baby to her, no matter what he looked like. She had no option but to be patient with him.

"I…I don't know. I've always been here. I do not understand what 'time' means. But Aslan may know."

"Then take me to him, please."

Willem led her through the silent forest at a leisurely pace. It seemed the young man was perfectly content and didn't have a care in the world. Did staying here…wherever "here" was…affect the mind? If so, Saedra hoped that her mind would start to be affected in such a way. All she could think about was what a fool she was, allowing herself and her baby to die. She also thought of Edmund, dying to see him and tell him that she was all right. The look on his face as she died was all she could see.

A blue light shone through the trees ahead, and grew as they neared it. Saedra was curious what it could be. Some sort of strange fire?

When they emerged from the trees, she saw that it was not a fire, but the sky. They had come upon an open, grassy area. The area abruptly ended several meters ahead, and all there was was a cloudless blue sky ahead.

In front of the end of the field was a great, humongous Lion. He was sitting watchfully, obviously knowing the exact moment that Willem and Saedra would come. He stared into Saedra's eyes unblinkingly, and she felt rather intimidated.

They walked forward, and Willem bowed low before the Lion. Saedra curtseyed, unable to break her eye contact with him. She felt as if he was reading her mind, peering into her soul. He saw every sin she'd committed, every devious thought in her mind.

"Thank you, son of Adam," Aslan said, nodding in Willem's direction but looking at Saedra still. "Daughter, we have much to discuss."

Saedra nodded, thoroughly scared and half-afraid he would swallow her with one gulp. She'd seen him before once in Anvard, but that had been in a crowd of people, and he hadn't been staring her down then. Now, before him with only her baby-in-man's-body-son with her, she was terrified.

"As you have surmised, you are now in the doorway to my country," he said. "But now is not your time to enter."

"Why not, Sir?" she asked, fearing that he would turn her away because of her misdeeds.

"Your task is not completed. There is much yet for you to do, Daughter."

"I have a task?" she asked. "What is it, Sir?"

"To live."

She faltered. "Pardon me... Aslan...but what do you mean by that?"

"Sometimes one cannot be told too much about their task, for in the knowing, the task cannot be completed."

"Then why am I here?" she asked. "If I need to live, why did you allow me to die?"

"Dying was a part of living."

Since she wasn't getting anywhere with this subject of conversation, she switched tactics. "May I see my father and mother now?"

"No, Daughter, they are too far in for you to go. If you venture that far, you cannot be sent back to the land of the living."

"So you're going to send me back?"

The Great Lion nodded.

"Sir, if I'm going back, there's things I need to ask them. I don't know how I died, but I do know that someone is out to get me, and they may have answers that will help."

"What knowledge do you seek?" Aslan asked.

"I need to know whether my father Dane knew about my mother's affair. I need to know if anyone else knew about it. I need to know who killed my mother. I need to know who killed Gilda, and why-"

"Willem?" Aslan spoke.

"Yes, Aslan?" Willem replied, stepping forward.

"Answer her questions."

"How can he know?" Saedra asked. "He's only a baby!"

"Time doesn't matter here, Mother," Willem reminded, demonstrating amazing patience. "I am no baby. I have lived a full life, and I have the answers you seek. As I said, I have spoken with Grand-"

"I understand, I understand," she said. "Then tell me: who killed my mother?"

"Grandmother killed herself," Willem said sadly. "It is as it appeared. Lord Reine, who was Grandfather Dane's best friend and never thought Grandmother was good enough for him, knew about the affair and threatened that if she didn't kill herself, he would expose you and her. She wanted to protect your future, and to protect Grandfather Dane from the truth."

Saedra felt strange talking to her son, who just recently hadn't even been born, about affairs and suicides. She was too hungry for information to let that stop her, however.

"But why didn't she just run away? Sadris would have taken her back in. She loved her!"

"Yes, but think about the dangers of fleeing back to Tashbaan with a newborn baby. How would she cross the desert? How would she have food? She might have been able to survive, but think about the shame she would have felt, returning home in such a state. The marriage was very high-profile, and her fleeing Archenland would have caused an international incident. The Tisroc would have sent her back north to save face."

"Then did my father know about the affair?" she pressed further, not able to believe her luck in being able to get answers so easily. Maybe this was why Aslan allowed her to die!

"Yes," Willem replied.

"And he raised me anyway," she said, marveling at what a good, honorable man Dane was.

"Yes."

"Did he know that my mother killed herself?" she pressed.

"Yes. At first he didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was obvious."

"And this is why Father would never talk about her with me…" Saedra said, putting the pieces together in her mind. "It was a painful memory."

"Yes," Willem said.

"And do my mother and father-I mean, Dane-speak to each other anymore?" she asked curiously.

"Things are different here than what I have been told about the land of the living, Mother. Such things are forgotten."

"Forgotten?" she said disbelievingly. "Then how did they tell you all these things?"

"Perhaps forgotten is the wrong word," Willem said, looking to Aslan and then back to Saedra. "I can't explain it. You'll know when you go farther in someday."

"Any other questions, Daughter of Eve?" Aslan asked. "Time is short."

"I thought time didn't matter," she said, feeling much braver around the Lion.

A low growl told her that Aslan didn't appreciate her comment.

"Who killed Gilda?" she hastily asked Willem.

"I don't know," he said sadly. "Gilda doesn't know. We suspect it was someone working for Lord Reine, but your guess is as good as ours."

"I suppose you could tell me, Aslan…?" Saedra asked hopefully.

"Your son speaks wisely," Aslan said. "Now it is time to go."

"I have some more questions, Sir!" she said urgently. "I want to know how I died! I want to know what will happen to Harden. I want to know…"

Her voice trailed off when she realized she was no longer on the grassy field, but air. She saw that where the field ended was actually a gargantuan cliff, going down miles upon miles. She was floating on air, and Aslan and Willem were already shrinking into the distance.

Willem's mouth was moving, but she couldn't hear what he was saying.

"Willem!" she cried, distressed about leaving her son. "Come with me!" When he didn't respond, she yelled, "Willem!"

Either they couldn't hear her or they ignored her plea, but neither Aslan nor Willem moved to join her. She floated in what must have been a current of air, but she couldn't feel it. In fact, she couldn't feel anything. She looked down at her body-and found that she had no body! She was a spirit being sent back.

If this isn't the strangest thing I've ever done, I don't know what is! Saedra thought in bewilderment, and then realized that this must have been the way she had arrived at the forest. She was a spirit travelling between the land of the living and the land of the dead, going back to her old body.

Bother! she thought. I wish I could have kept that nice, new body.

She travelled for what seemed like ages, passing over clouds, then an ocean, then some islands, then some more ocean, and then—land. She saw the Winding Arrow River coming close (though one could wonder how she would be able to see at all if she didn't have a body), and saw the fortress of Harden resting on the cliffs next to it. She floated down, through the roof, through the higher rooms, down, lower and lower.

She slowly lost consciousness the closer she came to her body. Darkness came over her, and she wondered whether something had gone wrong.

Suddenly, searing pain overcame her, and she knew she had been joined with her old body at last.

She was overwhelmed with feelings of suffocation. Her empty lungs cried for air. She opened and closed her mouth, trying to inhale.

After a claustrophobic eternity, blessed air flooded her lungs, and she gulped it in hungrily. She could almost ignore the searing pain that seemed to come from every nerve on her body. She was so grateful to be back.

She was alive once more.