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Chapter Sixteen

~Edmund~

When second term finally ended, Lucy and I returned home to see Peter and Susan and our parents. When we told them we'd been back to Narnia for our last time, their responses were very different.

"But Rose?" Peter asked us, frowning.

I looked away, and let Lucy answer softly, "Aslan wanted her to stay in Narnia."

"But why? She had a choice the last time!" Peter objected.

Lucy only shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Aslan has a plan for her."

Susan had been strangely quiet and hadn't said anything the entire time we told our story. But then she spoke, though we were shocked to hear what she had to say.

"Well, good. That it was your last time, I mean. Now we're done with that place and can finally get on with our lives." She said it matter-of-factly, but looked away from us and swiped at her eyes.

Our mouths hung open. "B-but Susan!" Lucy cried. "You can't mean that!"

Susan set her jaw. "And why not? We need to accept that this is where we belong, not in Narnia. England is where we will have to live the rest of our lives, so we might as well start to forget about Narnia and everything we had there, because it's not going to make it any easier if we keep dwelling on it!"

And with that she stood abruptly and left the room.

After a long time, Peter asked quietly, "Do you think she's right?"

"No!" Lucy said fiercely. "Aslan brought us to Narnia for a reason, more than just to help. He meant for us to learn things there that we couldn't here in our world. And I don't think he would want us to forget about it."

I stared at my lap. Susan's speech had reminded me for the thousandth time, but no less painfully, that I would never see Rose again. We were in two different worlds now, and always would be. We would never get married, buy a house, have children, or grow old together. But I was no closer to accepting that than I had been when I first came back from Narnia.

Peter, Lucy, and I continued to talk about Narnia, saying things like "Remember when..." and "You know that time when..." We were determined not to forget.

But Susan seemed just the opposite. She always interrupted us when we began a story, or changed the subject abruptly, or simply left the room. She spent her time with her clothes and her makeup and her sweethearts.

At nineteen, she was popular and pretty, and had no more time for 'children's tales' of a world which she had loved.

~Rose~

I continued my excursions to the northern-most towns and villages and settlements of Narnia to try and find more information about what could be happening. Most of my parties were small, only about five people. They would have been smaller, if not for Caspian's wishes to make sure I would completely safe.

I continued searching for answers over several years. I talked to anyone who had a story or account to tell, and even tried to experience what they did for myself. I journeyed into the earth with the Dwarfs and tried to sense what it was they were telling me, about the earth and rock feeling different. I scrunched my eyes up tight and laid my bare palms against the walls of the tunnels underground, concentrating on feeling it.

All I felt was the cool, damp stone against my palms and the steady beating of my heart. As I continued to stand there, straining for something I couldn't understand, my frustration mounted. Finally I sighed and opened my eyes, dropping my hands to my side.

I shook my head. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's just... rock." I looked to the Dwarfs. "What is it supposed to feel like? What do you feel?"

One Dwarf with a dark, bushy beard answered, "The earth is a living thing. When we touch the stone, we are tuned in to it. Right now, we can sense... disturbances. Our theory is that somewhere, deep within, the earth is in turmoil. What we suspect we feel now is just the ripples of that turmoil, the very edge."

Although I still could not understand the Dwarfs' connections to the earth, what he was saying made a little more sense.

"And... what is causing that turmoil? Is it natural, or something Caspian and I should be worried about?"

The Dwarf sighed. "As to what's causing it, Your Highness, we can only guess. But I think that you and Caspian should not dismiss this."

And so I continued to investigate. But in the meantime, I continued to carry out my duties at Cair Paravel and raise my son.

Rilian, at fifteen, was an adventurous boy. He and his friends raced their horses recklessly through the forests, dueled and practiced their archery, and longed for the chance to prove themselves in battle. Whenever I looked at him, I saw his father. He wore his dark hair long, like Caspian, pulled back into a short ponytail. His eyes, though brown, were the same shade of chocolate as Edmund's, while Caspian's were darker and nearly black. And he, like his father, felt every emotion intensely.

He had a temper, and when he was angry, his mood would turn black and stormy. He could stay mad for weeks, and hold a grudge for a long time. But when he was happy, he could light a whole room with his smile and laughter. And he loved passionately, and when he lost the things he loved, he would be sad and depressed for weeks or more, and nothing could bring him out of gloom. This had been the case with the deaths of his pony and first dog.

I took it upon myself to teach Rilian history and left the other, less pleasant topics (like math) to Dr. Cornelius, Caspian's old tutor. Most days, we sat outside in the courtyard gardens, next to the fountains or among the rosebushes.

"Mum?" he asked me one day.

I was telling him about the Golden Age of Narnia, and the short reign of Ralon the Usurper and his downfall in the Lone Islands. Since I had been the one to bring about the end of his power, I could tell Rilian about it firsthand.

"Yes?" I paused in my tale.

"Why... How... How did you leave Narnia? Where did you go for 1200 years?" he asked, and I realized his mind had been on something else, and that he hadn't been paying attention to the subject at hand.

I hesitated, then said, "You already know that. I went back to England, which was the world that I was born in."

He frowned. "I know, but... why? And how? You can't just walk out of one world and into another."

I looked around the gardens as if they might contain an answer. Rilian knew I had been friends with the Pevensies, because I frequently told him about our many adventures. But he didn't know the details. He only knew the standard story that everyone else heard or learned about.

"I had a dream that Aslan told me to go to the Lamppost. So I did, and he... sent me back to England." I left out that he gave me a choice, though I wasn't even entirely sure why. "Because the Pevensies were the only family I had. And I only spent a year in England, but time passes differently between our worlds, and when Caspian blew Susan's horn, it called us back to Narnia several centuries later."

"Why didn't you go back to England with them? Why did you stay here?"

Where these questions coming from? "I... there was nothing for me in England. Narnia is my home, and it needed me."

Rilian was silent in thought for a few moments. When he spoke again, his words shocked me. "You were in love with one of them, weren't you? King Edmund? I can tell by the way you talk about them," he said quietly, calmly, as if it only interested him academically.

I opened my mouth, but didn't know what to say. Panicked, I struggled to regain my composure. "Yes. But that was... that was a long time ago," I managed to say softly, and then turned the subject back to Lord Ralon.

When Rilian turned sixteen, he began to accompany me on my trips north. He enjoyed these trips as much as I did, because he felt as if he were helping to accomplish something important.

Watching him, I remembered that I had been the same when I was his age. I always wanted an adventure, and wanted to do something important to help my kingdom. Now I was thirty-three, or fifty, depending on if my age was based on my body or how many years I had lived. But even though I had lived fifty years, I still didn't feel as wise as my age.

And it didn't seem like sixteen years since I had last seen Edmund. My love for him had grown no less, though I had tried to push it to the back of my mind. I had grown to love Caspian, but Edmund, no matter how hard I tried to make it otherwise, would always be first in my heart.