I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. I just postponed my life because the words were coming.
It was a ten-minute walk to the beach, but it was no surprise to Lucy when she collided with the Lion only a few minutes later, in the small orchard by the east wall. She hurtled into his side, burying her face in his silky mane. And suddenly, it was as if the stopper had been pulled out of her sorrow; immense sobs wracked her body as she wept bitterly into Aslan's mane, clutching him to her as if he were the only consolation she could ever receive, the only thing that could possibly make this gaping wound inside her bearable. For several long minutes she simply stood pressed into his fur, savoring the warm softness that was the great Lion, her tears slipping off her face and into his mane.
"Aslan," she finally gasped out. "Oh, Aslan, it can't… Susan can't…"
"Peace, Dear One," he rumbled soothingly. She was pacified at the deep richness of his voice. "All will be made right."
She extracted herself from his mane, her face surely red from her crying. With a loud sniff, she stroked his fur and asked,
"But…but how?"
He looked at her, all somber gold eyes and dignity, and her inner turmoil swirled just a little slower.
"All will be made right," he repeated gently. He raised his massive head, inhaling the crisp late-autumn air, taking in the barren trees of the orchard around him. Lucy gave another sniff and tangled her fingers into his mane. He began to walk forward, the young queen with him, and soon they were striding through the courtyards. The court-dwellers would sink to their knees instantly at the sight of Narnia's highest king, and though Lucy would gladly have done the same, she had never felt the need around the great Lion. Together, they passed through the forecourts of the castle and began to climb one of the many staircases that she had so hurriedly descended in her haste to meet Aslan.
Though he had not said anything about where they were going, Lucy knew. When they neared Peter's chambers, she hurried ahead a few steps to push open the door for the Lion. He nodded in gratitude, then stepped into the room, seeming to brighten its dimness with his very presence. Lucy followed him in, slipping in the doorway and shutting the door behind her. She had not seen where her brothers had been before she'd come in, but now they were both kneeling before Aslan, heads bowed in humility; the only distinct difference between their poses was that Edmund's shoulders remained tense while Peter's sagged dejectedly.
"Rise, Sons of Adam," said Aslan. Both lifted their heads, but only Edmund stood, hands clasped behind his back. Lucy noted that Rhindon still hung from his belt. Aslan turned his wise gaze to the eldest of the children, something of a question in his noble bearing, and Edmund looked about to reach over and tap his brother on the shoulder, but settled for an imploring look. A moment of silence passed, and the Lion spoke again. "I bade you rise, Peter."
"Lord Aslan," Peter began, his voice still something of a croak. "I…I know why you have come."
Aslan gave him a long, hard look before asking with a touch of amusement,
"Do you, Son of Adam?" Peter nodded miserably.
"I have failed. I do not deserve to be High King or even a king at all. I have failed my family and I have failed Narnia. You have come justly to take away what is…"
"Enough," said Aslan. His countenance had changed; Lucy saw that now he looked stern and fearsome, bearing down upon her brother with a reprimanding stare. It was rare for her to see Peter so dwarfed but it certainly happened now. He looked positively tiny between the front paws of the great Lion. When Aslan spoke again, there was an imperious, hard edge to his deep voice. "Child, you despair too easily. There is a time for regret and a time for sorrow, but it is not now."
Peter bit his lip hard and bowed his head again.
"Forgive me, Aslan," he whispered. Lucy watched Aslan share a look with Edmund, give a quick nod, then Ed was moving to place a hand upon his brother's shoulder comfortingly. Peter kept his eyes on the carpet.
"What would you have us do?" asked Edmund levelly. Aslan swished his tail, considering the question for a moment.
"It is not often," he began, "that I lose a beloved son or daughter before my expectation. What happened last night was unforeseen, and if this mistake goes uncorrected, all of Narnia may be in grave danger."
Corrected? Lucy allowed herself the tiniest, most guarded measure of hope. Edmund had perked at the word, jaw tight and eyes just the tiniest bit wider than usual. Peter, gaze still fixed to the floor, had not reacted at all. Aslan continued.
"Your sister has passed on to another world," he said somberly. Lucy's flicker of hope was extinguished, but quickly relit as the Lion went on: "But as you know well, it is not in the least impossible to travel between worlds."
"Oh, Aslan," breathed Lucy. "Are you saying…oh, are you saying we could bring her back?"
"It will not be easy, Dear One," said the Lion. "What I ask of you is no simple task. It will test you beyond what you believe you can endure."
"We would endure anything for our sister," said Edmund. "More than anyone, I should understand the importance of keeping a family together. Tell us what we must do, Aslan."
Aslan shifted slightly, shuffling his paws and brushing his soft mane up against Lucy, who still stood to his side. She met eyes with the younger of her two brothers, and a silent recognition passed between them: both were ready to undertake any trial to rebuild their family. But suddenly Peter, who had not moved since Aslan had reprimanded him, raised his head and said much more steadily than before,
"I will go, Aslan. It is my duty to protect my family and my duty alone. Keeping Susan safe was my responsibility. I failed last night, but perhaps I can succeed in this mission. Do not make my brother and sister suffer for my mistake – I will go alone."
Edmund's hand quickly left Peter's shoulder. Aslan looked even less pleased than before. He narrowed his great golden eyes and lifted his head high above Peter's, regal and powerful and formidable.
"Pride, Son of Adam," he growled. "You mean well, but your pride blinds you to the strength of your family. Do not make the mistake of underestimating them. They are stronger than you think."
Peter set his jaw.
"Sodding git," Ed muttered.
Aslan chuckled.
"Lucy, Dear One," he purred, turning to her.
"Yes, Aslan?"
"Go to your brother's desk. Open the bottommost drawer and bring to me a small wooden box inside. Do not open it, just bring it to me."
Peter opened his mouth in confusion, perhaps to point out that there was no wooden box in the bottommost drawer of his desk, but a few seconds later Lucy had picked it up and laid it upon the bedside table before Aslan. He blinked in shock. Edmund rolled his eyes.
"Now, Daughter of Eve, open the box," said Aslan. She pulled off the carved top, made of a wood strangely like that of the wardrobe, and revealed inside a velvet-padded tray with four gleaming rings upon it, two yellow and two green. They were extraordinarily bright.
"Oh," Lucy breathed. She reached out to touch one, but drew her hand back at the sharp gaze she received from Edmund, the most naturally suspicious person in their family. He turned to the Lion.
"What are they for, Aslan?" he asked. The Lion closed his eyes, then opened them again.
"They will bring you between worlds as you search for your sister," he said. "I have…borrowed them from a certain troublemaker in your own world. Perhaps someday you will come to know his story. It is not for me to tell. But I will tell you this – the yellow rings, when touched, will take you to the Wood Between the Worlds. Once there, you must touch a green ring to leave. Be careful, my children, for anything you are touching while you travel will also travel with you. This will allow you to move together, but beware of things that would like to pass with you."
"Thank you, Aslan," said Lucy earnestly. He smiled at her, the kind of smile that is just from the eyes, and she smiled back.
"But where is Susan?" asked Edmund suddenly. Aslan looked at him solemnly.
"Child, I tell no one any story but his own," he told the king. "It is your quest to find her and return her to her rightful throne. But always remember – no matter what world you are in, your sister is still your sister. Susan is still Susan. Good luck, Sons of Adam and Daughter of Eve. Narnia's future is in your hands now."
With nothing more than an inclination of his great head, the Lion was gone, the door closing gently behind him. Peter rose shakily from his knees, looking disconsolate.
"I can't do anything right," he said gloomily. Edmund gave an exasperated snort.
"Well here's your chance," he said. "You're resting a day, and then we're moving out. Lu, are you sure about this? If you don't want to go, just let us know and we can go on alone."
" Susan is my sister too," Lucy deflected. "We'll all go."
"I knew you'd say that," said Edmund with a smile. He took her by the hand and led them towards the door. Before they left, he turned to Peter and said, "We leave tomorrow morning, Peter, so don't waste today sulking. Rest up."
As she walked down the hallway, trailing behind her brother, Lucy recognized the little feeling that was kindling away inside her. Aslan had come and swept away her grief. In its place, she had found some hope. Tomorrow, she told herself, she set out to save a sister.