Then

It had been two days since the raid on Miraz's castle, and things had never even had a chance to return to a state of calm before it was all ripped away again. Jadis had almost returned, partly because of a Werewulf, a Hag, and Caspian and Peter. Susan had given them both a disappointed glance before she'd snuck off. Caspian had then fled, and Peter had watched him go before he seemed to realize there were other people in the room. Edmund had slumped to the floor in a corner, near the very dead Werewulf, and was staring into blank space.

Both her brothers had seemed so lost that Lucy had instantly felt sorry for them, and she was quickly starting to realize the extent to which this was all tied around the four of them. Everything that was happening was leading to another step up a ladder, and so on and so forth. It seemed every accident, and every poor decision was pushing the Narnians as a whole, forwards to something yet unknown. And it seemed as though she, Peter, Edmund, and Susan were the catalysts.

After a few moments of trying to console Peter, who'd seemingly shut down, she got up and walked to find Susan who had stopped outside the How, and was staring into a giant, golden sun. It was rising into the latter half of a beautiful day. Lucy's hand on her arm brought Susan's sorrowful eyes swinging around to meet hers. Two Great Cats had followed the Gentle Queen outside without a sound, and were waiting calmly for her in the bright light. Blinking against the brightness.

"Are you alright?"

Susan didn't answer or move except to place a hand over Lucy's on her arm, and after a few minutes excuse herself, preferring a higher perch, and presumably silence. The Great Cats followed their Gentle Queen, the one among the siblings who ran so far deeper than the calm surface of her ice-lake eyes. Or so Lucy thought. She knew her sister well, well enough to respect her need for a moment of calm. She knew Susan was hiding all manner of impulses and adventures, and Lucy had long ago come to treasure their rarity.

When Susan found a perch and settled down, Lucy returned to the Stone Table, and found both of her brothers inside with Glenstorm and Reepicheep keeping at the doorway.

As dark and dusty as the rest of this place it still had an earthy smell of home, and the scent of wild wheat she brought with her inside was like a balm.

Peter was still sitting in front of the carving, staring at it in a trance. Trumpkin, and Trufflehunter were sitting along the entrance, near Glenstorm and Reepicheep, with their eyes downturned. All of them gaging the air of the room without causing a disturbance to the two kings.

Both her brothers looked like lost children, and she felt a stab of resentment. They didn't have time for self-pity, not when an army thrice their size was heading straight for them, and when each one of them was responsible for every step along the path they'd already taken. She wondered what Susan would do in her situation, because beneath the proper manners of young Miss Susan Pevensie was the finely honed instinct of a leader. And yet Lucy was now the one temporarily leading.

Lucy would have to navigate a line out of melancholy for her brothers without being callous. She knew from experience that Peter often found wisdom from her words, for whatever reason. She knew Edmund would follow his brother, even out of sadness, but remembered how easy it had become to be selective of her memories of Narnia whilst in England. It was so terribly difficult to be selective now that they were once again right in the middle of Narnia. Presented with every aspect of Her, good and bad.

She sighed and snuck into the room, heading for the Table. Trumpkin, and Trufflehunter kept wary eyes on her, and Reepicheep and Glenstorm glanced back as she made her progress. None of them spoke.

She supposed each one of them had already attempted to speak to the kings once and been shut down. She looked at Edmund, or met with silence, she thought.

Peter turned to her as if in a daze when she sat next to him. "Lucy?" His voice sounded terrible, but she couldn't help the small smile.

"Peter," she said easily and without intention. Her voice sounded like a little chirp compared to her older brother's.

He looked at her with dark, wet eyes. Eyes that melted away the last of Lucy's resentment, and replaced it with a clear purpose. "We need to get Edmund," she whispered, looking up at her brother.

He frowned at her, and turned to look for his brother. After his eyes glided past the four Narnians, they finally landed on Edmund's. It looked to Lucy as though Peter's heart broke when he saw him, staring blindly at the floor. She saw a flash of horrible guilt, oh Aslan.

"Edmund?" he whispered.

She nudged him very slightly. "Go."

Everyone in the room looked over at him when he came to his feet. His brother looked up with a slight lift in his eyebrows, but wouldn't meet Peter's eyes.

"May I speak with you?" Try as he might, he couldn't raise his voice above a whisper anymore. He looked as though this, his most recent failure, sat like a weight on his shoulders.

Edmund glanced lightning quick at Lucy before he nodded and levered himself to his feet. As he approached he re-sheathed a knife, and halted in the center of the room, waiting. His eyes were fixed in Peter's direction without making direct eye contact.

What are you thinking? Lucy wondered from her twisted position on the Table as she watched Edmund, sunken into himself like he'd been in the beginning, follow his older brother out with nary a glance at his back.

Peter looked momentarily ill, and swallowed. He stepped away from Lucy, most likely with the intention to find somewhere he and Edmund could have privacy. As impossible a mission as that might be unless he went outside. And there they'd find Susan.

Lucy sighed.

Neither one of them saw her eyes meet those of brave Reepicheep before she nodded for him to follow. Quiet as a mouse, Majesty. He smiled softly in return and hopped off on soundless paws in the wake of both his kings.

Peter and Edmund walked down through the lower levels of the How, careful of whom they passed. At least Peter was. It had struck a blow to see a Narnian turn against them in the most horrific of ways. He looked at Edmund, whose eyes were fixed on the ground.

He wondered what his brother felt. What Edmund had felt when he'd seen her. "Let's try in here?" He gestured to an alcove not far from the chamber they'd so recently been in when everything almost went to Hell.

He supposed, for Edmund, in some ways it did. When he looked over he saw nothing in his brother's eyes. Not fear or worry. No guilt. And it drove it home just a little bit deeper how gravely he was failing.

He slid down the wall, and looked up for Edmund to join him. "Eddy?" His younger brother did so with a look in each direction away from the alcove, as though he wanted to run. "Do you think he was always going to betray us?" Peter asked on a whim. He blinked and tried to focus on his brother who was staring at him as if he hadn't understood the question. He swallowed. "Edmund?"

"Who do you mean?"

"Nikabrik," He watched his brother and waited for some sort of reaction, but didn't see one.

Edmund's eyes left Peter's and focused on the rocky wall. "Maybe," he whispered. He swallowed as well, as though trying to clear his airway.

Something he'd previously forgotten flashed back into Peter's mind. "How did you know to break the ice?" He looked up again, trying to discern some form of emotion on his brother's face, but all he saw was blank acceptance. Desolation. You look so lost, brother.

"Because she's made of it," he muttered, strength of his voice dying a little more with each new word.

"Edmund, I'm sorry," He'd felt it burst out of him, the apology, and knew in an instant it wasn't the right thing to say. His chest tightened and tears burned in his eyes.

Edmund's eyes narrowed an instant, but quickly smoothed back into the indifferent expression from before. "For what?" His voice never rose above a whisper.

Something gut-wrenching was pulling and clawing its way through Peter's stomach to his chest. It hurt so badly that his breath became uneven and two tears dripped from his eyes. He began fidgeting and moved in little, aborted attempts to grasp Edmund's hands. "I'm so sorry for-" He stopped because he abruptly realized he had no idea how to define his own involvement with the Jadis debacle. He had gone in with every attempt to stop Caspian and kill Her specter instantly, but something had stopped him.

Edmund didn't seem to be waiting for him to continue. He was back to staring at the rocky wall, and blinking and swallowing more often than he should've. Directly across from them was a torch mounted with a mural on the wall behind it. Tumnus with his winter-umbrella.

"I didn't intend for any of it to happen," he finished lamely, and didn't blame Edmund when he didn't react. Why had he interfered with Caspian? Why, when he was so easily swayed regardless. "I thought I could stop her-"

"Stop," It was a shivery, whispered breath, but had the effect of a punch to Peter's gut. Edmund drew his knees into a cross-legged position. His breathing seemed a little irregular. "I don't care."

"It doesn't sound like it," Peter's voice gentled, but apparently not enough.

Edmund huffed and pushed out of his seat, walking straight towards the giant entrance to the How.

"Ed,"

"Don't follow me," he called back desperately and jogged off down a hallway.

TBC