*creeps slowly out of hiding* Uh...hi everyone! After a month of racking my brains trying to figure out this chapter, I've finally got it posted! I have no excuses, other than the fact that this was a crucial chapter, one that I think you've all been waiting on tenterhooks for, and I wanted to make sure I could do justice to the initial idea that I had envisioned when I first came up with this story. Somehow over the last two days, the writer's block I was fighting suddenly resolved itself. I hope all of you like it, and please remember to review!
Chapter Eighteen: Confrontations
Aslan's How…dawn…
It was a weary group that emerged from the woods and headed across the field towards Aslan's How as the sun began to peek over the horizon, turning the sky pink and pale blue. The Narnians walked in silence, led by Peter, Susan, Edmund, Caspian, and Corin.
Peter's face was marred by a dark look and a deep scowl as he kept sending glares Caspian's way. The plan had failed because Caspian had broken away from it, first by going to rescue his professor, and then by going after Miraz alone. Fortunately they had gotten away unscathed except for Caspian's minor shoulder wound that had hastily been bandaged when they had made it to the safety of the woods, but the plan's failure was disheartening to the Narnians, who had seen the first ray of hope for twenty-five years.
They passed through the ruins that fronted the entrance to the How, to see Lucy and Aislynn waiting for them at the top of the ramp, along with the Narnians who had stayed behind to guard the How. "What happened?" Lucy asked quietly, seeing the anger on her oldest brother's face. "Where is Miraz?"
"Ask him," Peter snarled, gesturing towards Caspian.
"Me?" Caspian responded sharply.
"If you had stayed with the plan, Miraz and the Council would be our prisoners now!" Peter snapped, turning on the prince. "We had a chance to end this war with one attack, and you ruined it!"
Caspian's eyes narrowed. "You were the one who ruined it King Peter," he spat back. His anger was a palpable thing, and the audience looked between their chosen prince and their High King, whose face had gone chalk white with rage. Peter's eyes were like chips of ice as he stared Caspian down.
"How, in Aslan's name, do you believe that to be the case?"
The question, despite Peter's rage, was soft. A deadly calm backed the question, a warning that if Caspian pushed too far, Peter wouldn't hesitate to retaliate.
Caspian paid the warning no heed.
"Your arrival in Miraz's chamber pushed him to extremes!" Caspian cried. "I had the situation under control until you burst in and put pressure on him to provoke my aunt!"
"Caspian, your aunt had a crossbow pointed at you, and she did shoot you," Susan pointed out softly, trying to diffuse the conflict that was rising between her brother and the prince.
"My aunt raised me!" Caspian snapped at the oldest Queen. "She was surprised when my uncle confessed to murdering my father, and she had lowered the crossbow! If you hadn't interfered, I could have dealt with the situation!"
"The same way that you were dealing with it before we came?" Peter shot back. "You called us, remember?"
"My first mistake."
A sharp gasp spread through the watchers and Peter's deadly calm gaze narrowed even further. Frowns crossed the faces of the other Pevensie siblings, and as one, they moved around Caspian to stand beside Peter, all of them giving off an angered, regal aura that showed their displeasure.
The other Narnians looked between their monarchs and the prince uncertainly. Was the conflict that they had dreaded when Caspian and the monarchs met about to occur? Aislynn and Corin exchanged glances before moving to stand behind the Pevensies, showing Caspian where their support lay.
"No."
Peter's voice was quiet and calm, his tone matter of fact when he continued. "Your first mistake was thinking that you could lead these people." He took on an even more serious, judgmental attitude – the same manner that he had used when passing judgment in the rare cases when Edmund had not been present at court. "I told you that we would be reserving judgment when we first spoke. Given the events of last night, I believe that the only recourse of action that we have is to declare you unfit to take the throne of Narnia."
Another gasp from the Narnians filled the air, and even Aislynn and Corin looked uncertain at Peter's words. Low murmurs filled the air, and Caspian stiffened, his own eyes narrowing in anger.
"Under what grounds, Sire?"
"The fact that your impulsiveness and inability to follow a plan could have cost the lives of our soldiers. The fact that you cannot obey simple orders. If you could not listen to my instructions, how do you expect to be able to follow the will of Aslan?"
The stand-off was growing more tense by the moment, and the Narnians shifted restlessly, uncertain what they should do or who they should throw their support behind. Invoking Aslan's name seemed to bring home the seriousness of the matter, and what Peter was suggesting was deeply troubling to the Narnians, who had agreed to follow the prince's lead.
Remarkably, it was Lucy who stepped forward. Before Caspian could formulate a response to Peter's – somewhat – rhetorical question, the youngest Queen spoke quietly, laying a hand on her brother's arm and looking directly at him. "Peter, calm down. Tell us what happened. Maybe we can still salvage this."
"No. We won't get another chance like this," Peter replied, although he did seem to make an effort to calm his temper. "Miraz has been alerted. All we can do now is make plans to defend the How." He turned and started heading back in to the How, but his siblings could all see that he was not as in control as he seemed to be. There was a subtle slump in his shoulders that spoke of a sleepless night, a let-down of adrenaline, the emotional impact of his temper being roused to its boiling point, and the disappointment of the failed plan. "These next plans will have to succeed. This is going to be an all or nothing stand – thanks to some very poor decisions."
"Hey!" Caspian bellowed, stopping Peter in his tracks as the prince – unused to being challenged, finally moved to retaliate. Peter turned around, very slowly, his stance warning Caspian that he was treading on very thin ice. "I am not the one who abandoned Narnia."
Caspian's words struck home. A look of soul-deep guilt, pain, and misery flashed across his features. Peter actually closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to force down the lump in his throat and the tears that had threatened at the thought of what had happened – not only to his wife and child – but to his beloved country in their absence. When he opened his eyes, there was no sign of the pain that had so briefly been on his face. Instead, his entire being radiated anger and extreme displeasure.
Peter stepped forward and got right in Caspian's face as he spoke, his eyes flashing blue fire. "You invaded Narnia. You have no more right to lead it than Miraz does!" Caspian stormed past Peter, apparently not even listening to the High King any more.
Peter's next words, however, stopped Caspian cold. "You, him, your father…Narnia's better off without the lot of you!"
There was an instant of utter silence and everyone watching knew that the argument had gone too far. Letting out a deep, pain-filled yell, Caspian's hand flew to his waist, drawing his sword as he spun around.
Peter was just as quick; his borrowed sword was in his hand before Caspian even completed the turn, and they faced each other, their sword points hovering an inch from each other's throats.
"Stop it!" Edmund yelled, starting forward, only to be stopped as a horn carried by one of the sentries on watch was sounded. Everyone, including Peter and Caspian, turned to see what was going on, although neither of them lowered their swords.
From the far end of the field, row upon row of men were emerging from the woods. As the leading ranks exited the trees, standards were raised on poles – standards bearing the sapphire and silver colors of Archenland. At the head of the party were two figures on horseback, paced by an assortment of Narnians. There was a tall, black Centaur, dressed in full armor, although his human hair had gone grey with age, an ancient-looking Faun, and a Black Dwarf. The rider on the left was identical to Corin, save for the fact that a thin gold circlet graced his brow. The rider on the right wore a thick grey wool cloak, the hood pulled up, obscuring the rider's features.
The army – for army it was – marched across the field, stopping just shy of the Narnian forces who had gone on the raid the night before. There was a moment's pause, before the two riders on horseback and the Narnians came forward. The Narnian soldiers parted for them, and they stopped beside Susan, Edmund, Lucy, Corin, and Aislynn.
King Cor looked down at the group standing beside his horse, then looked over to where Peter and Caspian were standing at the How's entrance, swords still pointed at each other. "Well, it seems that we have arrived at a rather interesting time. I take it you were not warned of our coming?"
"Not all of us, brother," Corin said, his tone wry as he stepped up to his brother's horse. Cor reached down and Corin reached up, clasping arms in greeting.
"That was something I was going to tell you, but I didn't get a chance." Lucy's voice was exasperated. "Just before you got back, we had received word that Cor and his army were nearly here." She glared at Peter and Caspian, who slowly lowered their swords and sheathed them. Once both weapons were put away, she turned to greet Cor, until her eyes fell on the Narnians. "Oreius? Mr. Tumnus?" she cried, sounding for a moment like the ten-year old she was. Before anyone could react, she had launched herself forward into the Faun's arms.
Tumnus nearly stumbled back at the ten-year-old's impact, but he maintained his balance and his arms tightened around her reflexively. "Queen Lucy?" He stared into her face for a long moment, before they both began to laugh with joy at seeing each other alive and well.
That broke the odd tension, and Edmund rushed over to Oreius, who looked as surprised to see the four of them as they were to see him – even though he had known there was a possibility that the Pevensies would be there. Peter was right behind his brother, and Susan was already greeting Tumnus as well, who looked just as surprised as Oreius, despite his pleasure at seeing them.
The four monarchs and their trusted advisors simply held and stared at each other for long moments, before the four monarchs backed off and nodded regally, in an attempt to regain some of their composure. Peter looked up at Cor. "Cor, old friend, it is wonderful that you have arrived. Your arrival could not be more fortuitous."
Cor dismounted and gave a bow of equals to Peter, who returned the gesture. "I see that Lady Aislynn's message did not exaggerate, for you have obviously convinced my twin of your identities, and given the surprise on the faces of the Narnian Council, I can also see the question is without a doubt answered."
Peter managed a half-smile. "Indeed. Please, come with us. We'll have your men shown to where they can refresh themselves from the march, and when you've had a chance to refresh yourself and spoken to your brother, we will need to begin making plans. A lot has changed since the last messages we sent."
Cor nodded, but didn't say anything, just glanced at the other rider, who was still mounted on a dapple-grey palfrey. Peter could see that the rider was a woman, since she was wearing divided riding skirts, but he couldn't make out any details of her face. Corin was standing by her horse and as she moved to dismount he helped her down carefully.
The woman took several steps closer to Peter, before raising shaking hands to her hood and folding it back. Her aristocratic face, while still smooth and unlined, was pale and tense. Long black hair, neatly braided back, was liberally streaked with grey, and faded violet eyes were locked on Peter's face, as if trying to memorize it.
Peter sucked in a startled breath, and Susan and Edmund stared at the woman, dumbstruck. Although the face was not as he remembered it, there was no mistaking those eyes. He stumbled back several paces in his shock, shaking his head once or twice, although he didn't take his eyes from the woman's face. Very slowly, he stepped forward. "Krisalyn?"
Surprised murmurs rushed through the gathered observers as those who were close enough to hear Peter's shocked identification of the woman passed the news on to the others standing further away. Peter didn't pay any attention to it, however, all of his attention focused on his wife.
She continued to stare at him, unspeaking. Her eyes tracked over his face, before locking her gaze with his. "Peter?" she finally whispered, her voice one of mingled disbelief, shock, and quiet hope.
"Aslan, Kris," Peter murmured, stepping closer again. He couldn't believe the changes in her. What he was seeing now didn't match up to what he remembered. It's been twenty-five years, idiot, he reminded himself. Of course she's not going to look the same as she did the last time you saw her.
They were less than a foot away from each other. Peter reached up and ever so gently, rested his hand on her face – or tried to. She flinched away from him just before his fingers brushed her cheek, leaving his hand in mid-air, until he lowered it in confusion. "Krisalyn? What-?"
He never got a chance to finish.
SMACK!!
Peter reeled back, the force of her slap making his ears ring and his eyes water. His cheek stung as if he had just been hit with a wooden board. His hand came up, an involuntary reflex to the impact and he stared at her, knowing that his surprise had to be written all over his face.
"How dare you?" she whispered, her voice pain-filled and hoarse with choked-back tears. "How dare you just up and abandon us for twenty-five years?"
"Kris – I –I didn't mean…" Peter tried, as he turned to face her again his hand still holding his stinging cheek. Everything that he had planned to say to her had just disappeared, along with his normal eloquence. He had not been expecting this response from her, and in fact had not even anticipated it – although in hindsight he knew he should have. He had been so focused on his own feelings for her, his own guilt and worry, that he hadn't stopped to consider her feelings about the matter. "I can explain…"
She didn't give him a chance to finish, instead turning away to face her shocked audience. She stepped over to Corin and embraced him lightly, nodded in Caspian's direction, and then headed into the How. The Narnians parted before her, all of them uncertain how to act. By right of marriage, and having been crowned by Aslan himself at her wedding to Peter, Krisalyn was their Queen, even if none of them had seen her while she'd been exiled in Archenland. But she had also just struck their High King, in full view of their Archenland allies. No one was certain what the protocol was for such a situation, because it had never happened before, so they acted purely on instinct.
Peter stared after his wife, his hand still resting on his cheek, even though the sting had faded. He didn't even notice that his siblings were pressed close to him, asking him if he was all right and trying to move his hand to take a look at the place where she had slapped him. He desperately wanted to go after her, but the same uncertainty that held the Narnians in place was keeping him from rushing after her and pulling her somewhere where they would have a little bit of privacy.
Finally, his eyes tracked over to Cor and Corin, who were staring at the four Pevensies with grim expressions on their faces. Peter only stared at them, realizing that they had known the whole time where Krisalyn was, and had not said a single word about it, even when he'd asked Corin point-blank. He wanted to say something about their lies of omission, but at the moment he couldn't make his voice work. He needed to talk to Kris…but he didn't know if she wanted to talk to him.
Finally, he turned away and looked at his siblings, who were all staring at him with varying degrees of shock and emotional overload on their faces. "I need to…" he wasn't sure how to finish the statement – go and talk to Kris? be alone for a little while? – and he trailed off.
Susan pulled herself together the fastest, although there was still lingering shock and surprise on her face and in her eyes. "Go, Peter. We can wait until later to begin making plans. We'll make sure scouts are sent out so we have word in plenty of time when the Telmarines make their move."
Peter blinked at his sister several times before nodding and leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek. "Thanks, Su. I appreciate it." Turning away from his siblings, he headed into the How in pursuit of his wife. Somehow he had to make her understand that he hadn't intended to abandon her. He didn't know if she would be willing to listen, but he had to find a way. Losing her now to anger – Aslan forbid – was not an option after finding her again.
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When the scouts sent word that the raiding party was returning, Aislynn and Lucy had hurried up from where they were working on making sure there were plenty of supplies ready for the approaching Archenland party. Working side-by-side with her Aunt was oddly reassuring, although they were careful not to refer to each other that way.
Lucy spent a great deal of the time telling Aislynn about her father and her other aunt and uncle, so that she could get to know them – or at least know something about them before she was "introduced" to them. Listening to the funny stories about things that had happened during their reign, especially in the first few years while they were still learning how to be Kings and Queens did a lot to give Aislynn a much clearer picture of who her father and his siblings really were. She also learned a lot about her mother, since several of the stories featured Krisalyn. Aislynn suspected that this was deliberate on Lucy's part, giving her another viewpoint about her mother.
Watching the confrontation between Peter and Caspian had left her torn, however. Should she support her father, or Caspian, who she admired for his strength in standing up to his uncle and trying to rally the Narnians? Not knowing exactly what had happened during the raid, she wasn't sure where she should put her support. After several long seconds of furious debate, she finally joined the rest of her family, standing behind her father and lending him her silent support.
Her father's anger as he declared Caspian unfit for the throne of Narnia radiated off of him in a powerful aura. She vaguely remembered King Lune – her great-uncle, she now realized – doing the same thing once or twice when she was much younger, but the force radiating out from her father was almost tangible. She wanted to speak up, to defend Caspian and to try to convince her father to give him another chance, but the strength of his anger and his displeasure, especially as Caspian continued to fight back and insult her family held her silent.
When her father and Caspian drew swords on each other though…that was the final straw. She was about to cry out for them to stop, but King Edmund beat her to it, followed by the alert from the sentries that signaled the arrival of Cor and the army. Like the others, she turned to watch their approach, recognizing the Narnians who had always attended to her mother, realizing now, from Lucy's stories exactly who they were.
Oreius, the tall black centaur who had instructed her in tactics and self-defense, was the general of Narnia's armies and a personal body guard to Narnia's monarchs. The aged Faun who had instructed her in music, history, and lore was Tumnus, one of the most trusted of the monarch's advisors and her aunt's best friend. The Black Dwarf, Ratha, she didn't remember holding a place in any of her aunt's stories, but clearly she was a member of the Narnian Council.
Knowing that these Narnians always attended to her mother, she realized, long before Krisalyn dismounted and revealed herself to the gathered group, that her mother was riding alongside King Cor. She was somewhat surprised that Cor had permitted it, but then again…her mother was a force to be reckoned with, especially now, and as Queen of Narnia she had every right to return to her country.
That thought brought a sharp stab of pain to Aislynn's heart. She was still having difficulty comprehending the fact that her mother had lied to her for her entire life. She didn't understand her mother's reasoning. Surely telling Aislynn the truth wouldn't have put her in danger! Krisalyn had raised her daughter to be obedient, and if Krisalyn had explained things, including why she wanted Aislynn to remain in Anvard, Aislynn would have done so. She might have chafed at the restrictions, but she would have stayed.
Seeing her mother slap her father across the face had been completely unexpected, however. She would have thought that her mother would be happy to know that her father was still alive, that she would give him a chance to explain why he hadn't been there. After her Aunt Lucy had explained it to her, it had made a lot of sense, and Aislynn was willing to forgive him for something that was obviously not within his control. Part of that was because she was desperate to get to know him, and she knew that she would only be able to get angry at her father if he showed no interest in her, which Lucy had assured her would not be the case.
When her mother stormed away towards the How, Aislynn had looked back at her father for a moment, seeing that he was being comforted by his siblings, before slipping away quietly after her mother. Now she was wandering the maze-like corridors and caverns of the How in search of the older woman. She knew her mother's habits, but she didn't know how familiar her mother was with the interior of the How.
Finally, after checking dozens of smaller rooms, she found her mother in the passage that led down to the Stone Table, looking at one of the paintings on the wall of the cavern that detailed Narnia's history. As Aislynn approached, she saw that it was an image of a dark-haired woman standing with her father in front of Aslan, their hands loosely joined, a crown of silver and gold sparkling in her hair.
"Mother?" Aislynn asked quietly. "Are you all right?"
Krisalyn didn't respond at first, one hand gently running over the surface of the painting, her fingers tracing over Peter's face, while the other was clenched at her side so hard that the knuckles were white. "We were so happy, once," she murmured quietly. "Where did it all go wrong?"
Aislynn walked over and laid a hand on her mother's shoulder, gently drawing her away from the wall painting. "Mother, come with me," she urged the older woman. "We have a lot to talk about." Krisalyn followed her without protest, allowing her daughter to lead her into a quiet chamber a few feet away.
Once they were inside the chamber and out of the passageway, Krisalyn's eyes focused on her daughter and she smiled, although her smile was tinged with concern. "Aislynn, are you well?" She reached for her daughter and cupped the younger woman's face in her hands, looking into the lupine-shaded eyes.
Aislynn nodded and placed her own hands over her mother's returning her smile, although Aislynn's was one of confusion and a hint of betrayal, which made Krisalyn look at her daughter closely. "I'm well, Mother. There have been no difficulties since I arrived, but being here has taught me a very great deal that I didn't expect to learn."
Krisalyn frowned but before Aislynn could continue, realization dawned on the old Queen. "You know."
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Peter moved through the caves and tunnels of the How in a daze, searching for his wife. He was still shocked at her reception, but he was determined to find her and explain what had happened. She believed that he willfully abandoned her, and nothing could be further from the truth. He just had to make her understand that, to show her how worried he had been…
Word of the confrontation outside had apparently spread rapidly, as the Narnians who had not been in the raiding party and who had not been able to leave their work to greet the returning troops seemed to know what was going on. Peter could see it in the way they glanced up at him before returning to their tasks as soon as they met his eyes. He didn't know what they saw, and at the moment he didn't particularly care. He was used to constantly being the center of attention. As a King, he was very much a public figure, and finding time to simply be himself with his wife and his siblings had been very difficult at times. He ignored the looks and the muttered whispers that followed him as he searched the How for his wife.
He turned down the passageway leading to the Stone Table, the last place he had to look. Voices from further down the passage caught his attention and he slowed his footsteps. After a moment, he recognized Aislynn's voice, and confusion struck him for a moment. When had she left the gathered Narnians outside? What was she doing in here? Who was she talking to?
The answer to the last question came almost before he finished the thought. "There have been no difficulties since I arrived, but being here has taught me a very great deal that I didn't expect to learn."
A moment later, he heard Krisalyn's voice. It was flat and dull, but there was a note in it that Peter wasn't sure how to interpret. "You know."
"Yes, Mother, I know. I know that you are the last Queen of Narnia, I know that the Narnians that have followed you all these years are what remains of the Narnian Council, I know that I am the heir to the throne of Narnia, and I know that Peter is my father and his siblings are my aunts and uncle."
Peter blinked as Aislynn's words sank in. Aislynn is my daughter? His daughter had been here the whole time? She'd been right in front of him, and he hadn't seen it? He thought back to all the interactions that he had had with the young woman, and wondered why he hadn't realized it sooner.
Now that he knew the truth, he realized that Aislynn even looked like her mother and like him. That explained the nagging sense of familiarity he had felt when he had first met her. He had seen the features that resembled her mother, but because he hadn't been looking for his daughter to be with the Narnian resistance, he had dismissed what he had seen.
He sagged back against the wall of the corridor as the realization sank in. Immediately following, however, was a slow-burning, irrational anger. Cor and Corin had sent his daughter as a spy, into enemy territory. The only heir to the four thrones had been sent past the border that she must have been taken across as a baby. Cor and Corin had deliberately put his daughter in danger.
He was distracted from his intentions of hunting down the Archenland King and Crown Prince and giving them a piece of his mind when Krisalyn spoke again. "How?" He could listen to her voice all day.
"Queen Lucy. She asked the right questions, drew her own conclusions, and when the evidence was overwhelming, she told me the truth. She explained everything, Mother. Why they left Narnia, why they are younger than they should be, where they've been all these years…it all makes sense."
Lucy had known? Peter felt like he had just been punched in the gut. His baby sister had known his daughter was here and hadn't even bothered to tell him? She had told his daughter the truth about who she was, but hadn't bothered to tell her own brother that his daughter was right in front of him?
"There is no excuse for what they did, Aislynn." Krisalyn's voice was taut with anger, grief, and betrayal. "The very day I told your father that I was pregnant with you, they disappeared. They sent no word that they would be delayed once they were overdue to return, their belongings were found lying neatly on the ground, with no signs of a struggle, and there was no trace of them for twenty-five years." She was silent for a moment, before she spoke again. "Aislynn, no. I don't want to hear whatever excuse Lucy gave you. That's all it could possibly be – an excuse."
Peter's eyes closed as he listened to the emotions in his wife's voice. She had apparently taken their disappearance to heart. He didn't want her to feel that pain, but she wasn't the same person she had been – the person he remembered. The years had obviously taken a toll on her in more ways than one, and he wasn't sure how he could breach the decades-long gap between them.
Finally, he stepped towards the doorway, pausing as he took in the room. His wife was standing near the far wall, holding Aislynn's hands in hers. His daughter – his daughter! – had a stubborn, exasperated look on her face as she tried to get through to her mother. Now that they were standing together, it struck Peter again that he should have realized that Aislynn was his. There were too many similarities between them, and Aislynn also resembled him – but he had not been looking for his features when he had felt that sense of recognition upon meeting her.
"Krisalyn, we need to talk," Peter said after a moment of staring at his daughter. He tore his eyes away from her face and fastened them instead on his wife.
Krisalyn stared at him, standing framed in the doorway, and for a moment, he looked like the warrior King that she remembered. There was a presence to him that stirred the little flame of hope that she had been trying to suppress, but could no longer deny. Even now, when he was much younger than he had been the first time she had met him, her heart knew that this was Peter, the man that she had fallen in love with and married, and the father of her beautiful daughter.
There was no hope of quashing that flame any longer, and that was the truly painful part. After what he had done, she didn't want anything more to do with him. He had betrayed her, betrayed Narnia, and left her to raise their daughter and live in exile alone. But her heart wouldn't permit it.
Still, she was not about to let him walk all over her. "There is nothing that you have to say that I want to hear Peter," she told him firmly, turning away.
"Krisalyn."
The word – her name – was a command. A command that she wanted to ignore, but found that she couldn't. Against her will, she found herself turning back to face this boy – her husband…her King.
"On the day we were wed, Aslan asked you if you swore to remain true to me, through all the trials and blessings that our lives would bring, and to use your love to enrich our lives together. Do you remember what you said?"
Krisalyn closed her eyes, the memory of that day stabbing her heart painfully. She had thought about it often over the last two-and-a-half decades, and she still remembered her answer.
"I swear so to do," she whispered. She opened her eyes, feeling moisture from tears she was trying not to shed clinging to her eyelids. She was not going to cry in front of Peter. Not this time.
He stepped into the room, stopping right in front of where she stood with Aislynn. "I'm right here, Krisalyn. I am still your husband, no matter what has happened between us. A great deal has happened, and I am going to tell you the truth. I have no reason to lie to you, and I never have and I never will." He reached out and gently cupped her cheeks in his hand, his thumb brushing at the unshed tears and wiping them away. "I know you're hurt by what has happened. Believe me, love, if I could change anything about what has happened, I would. I've been out of my mind with worry for you and our child."
He glanced over at Aislynn. "We're a family, and it's time we had a long talk."
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Lucy watched her oldest brother walk away, in the direction that Krisalyn had gone. Her heart ached for him. She wanted to be there to comfort him, but she understood that this was something that Peter and Krisalyn needed to discuss in private. There would be time enough later for the three of them to sit down with Krisalyn and apologize and try to reconnect with the sister that they had left behind.
She looked over at their reinforcements from Archenland. Corin stood talking to some of the men in a small group, while Cor, Oreius, Tumnus, and a Black Dwarf that she didn't recognize stood slightly off to the side, a little apart from where Susan and Edmund stood. The confrontation between Peter and Krisalyn had shaken everyone, including her siblings, and no one was exactly sure what should happen next.
Finally, Lucy raised her voice so that everyone could hear her. Now, if ever, was the time for the Valiant Queen to make an appearance. "Come, let's resume our tasks. Those of you that were part of last night's raid, take some rest. Those who stayed here, there is still a great deal to be done to prepare for the defense of the How."
Edmund took a cue from her and raised his voice as she trailed off. "Scouts and sentries, check with your leaders and position yourselves to keep watch for the Telmarine forces. We need to know where they are now, and we need to know when they are on the move so we can prepare for the assault. Report to us at the first sighting."
There was a murmur from the Narnians, as their forces began to disband to go about their duties. Lucy spotted the wolves, panthers, and other large cats moving off towards the woods, where they would be able to slink through the underbrush on scouting runs. The Fauns quickly divided up sentry duties, and the others moved to return to their work. Two of the centaurs, Glenstorm's wife and his youngest son, stepped forward and offered to show the Archenland forces where they could bivouac until they were needed.
Within minutes, everyone was going about their duties, leaving Susan, Edmund, and Lucy standing outside with Cor, Corin, Oreius, Tumnus, Glenstorm, Reepicheep, Trufflehunter, Nikabrik, Trumpkin, Cornelius, Caspian, and the Black Dwarf who had accompanied the Archenland forces and the Narnian council.
They stood there in an awkward silence for a long moment, before Glenstorm stepped up to Oreius and offered him a centaur salute and bow, which Oreius returned. "The army is yours to command, General," Glenstorm said firmly.
Oreius nodded his grey head. "Thank you, my son. You have done well."
"Son?!" the three Pevensies chorused together. They exchanged dumbfounded looks. When had Oreius – who had once sworn that he would never take a mate, since his duty was to his monarchs and their families – ever bent his resolve and not only found a mate but had a family?
Glenstorm and Oreius both turned to the Pevensies with identical amused expressions. It was Oreius who responded to their shocked question. "Indeed. Glenstorm is my eldest son, Your Majesties."
Edmund shook his head, still not comprehending the idea. "This from the centaur who told Peter and I – on more than one occasion, I might add – that he had no intention of taking a mate? I'm sensing there is some story there."
"Perhaps one day you'll hear it," Oreius replied. "However, now is not the time to discuss such things."
Cor nodded. "There is a great deal that we must do, and we will need King Peter's voice."
"We will be speaking for Peter for the time being," Edmund said firmly, indicating his siblings and himself. "Our brother has much to discuss with his wife and we have no intention of disturbing him until he is ready."
"There is a great deal on that matter that we will need to discuss as well," Tumnus said. "The circumstances surrounding your disappearance, for one."
"We would be more than happy to explain the entire situation to all of you," Susan responded. "Let us adjourn to the planning room and hold our Council there."
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Aislynn watched the confrontation between her mother and father. She was tense, uncertain what to expect. When her mother had turned away from her father, she wasn't sure how he would react. The tales and stories – both those she had been raised on, and the ones that Lucy had told her – painted a picture of her father as a kind, gentle man unless Narnia's safety or his family was threatened. But her mother was being unaccountably cold and rude, and Aislynn honestly didn't know how her father would react to his wife's dismissal.
A single word forced her mother to turn her attention back to him. The regal, commanding aura that encompassed him was amazing and confirmed the title of "the Magnificent" that Aslan had bestowed upon her father. Despite his young age – a fact that continued to boggle her mind - there was no denying that this man was a King, and that her mother had the utmost respect for him, even if she wasn't showing it at the moment.
A quiet reminder of her wedding vow served to nearly bring Krisalyn to tears and caused Aislynn to blink back a few of her own. The gentleness with which Peter addressed Krisalyn, and the tender expression on his face as he held her and told her quite firmly that it was time they talked, was enough to prove to her that her father was the man that the legends and stories painted him as.
When Krisalyn nodded and agreed to talk, Peter released her and turned to Aislynn. Now it was his blue eyes that were filled with tears as he looked at her, and Aislynn realized how hard this must be for him. He had left Narnia for four months, before she was even born, only to return and find a woman grown where he had been expecting to find a tiny infant – if that.
"Aislynn," he breathed her name as if it was sacred to him, before holding out his arms.
She didn't hesitate, but ran into them, feeling him wrap his arms around her in a firm and caring embrace. She was taller than he was by several inches, so it was somewhat awkward, but the love and care in the gentle, yet fierce way he held her told her everything that she needed to know. Her father loved her, and being able to acknowledge her as his child was important to him.
Peter simply held her for several moments. This was his daughter, this lovely, intelligent woman was his daughter. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he thought about everything that he had missed. He hadn't been there when she had been born, or to see her first steps, or to hear her say her first words. He hadn't been there to comfort her through her first broken heart, or to chase away the young men who sought her hand. He blinked the tears away with a will. This wasn't the time to mourn what he had missed, this was the time to rejoice that he had found her and her mother again.
Releasing her, he reached up and caught her face in his hands and gently pulled her down so that he could place a light kiss on her forehead. "Aislynn, my daughter. You've become an amazing woman," he whispered in her ear as he pulled back.
"Father," she whispered, her own voice choked. "At last, I finally get to know you."
Peter nodded. "There will be plenty of time for us to get to know each other, my darling," he murmured. Stepping back, away from her, was one of the hardest things he had ever done. He had missed everything in her life thus far, and all he wanted was to hold her close in his arms again, and to freeze time and enjoy that sensation forever. But such a thing was impossible, and he still had to work out what had happened between he and Krisalyn, help her to understand why he hadn't been there for her to help her raise their beautiful daughter – and he still had to help Narnia regain her freedom from the Telmarines that oppressed her.
He turned back to his wife, who was watching him with a wary, closed expression. It was apparent that she still didn't fully trust him, especially not with something so precious as their daughter. He didn't blame her, but seeing that expression on her face, when she had normally been so warm and open with him, always offering her love, being his comfort and his shelter was heart-wrenching. He deserved it, but it still hurt that he had lost the trust of the one woman who had won his heart and become his partner.
Looking around the room, he spotted a few low stools in the corner and he went over and picked them up, bringing them back over to his wife and daughter. Once they were seated, he took a seat on his own stool, within arms-length of both of them, but not touching them, not yet. There was still too much anger and betrayal between he and Krisalyn, and although it seemed that Aislynn had forgiven him and welcomed him whole-heartedly, he wasn't counting on that to last.
"Krisalyn, Aislynn…I want it understood right away that you have been the only things on my mind the entire time that I was gone. I've been out of my mind with worry, and I nearly alienated my siblings because of it."
Krisalyn shook her head. "They're just words, Peter. Empty words. You haven't been here. You've been gone for –"
"Four months," Peter interrupted her softly.
Krisalyn blinked, her faded violet eyes narrowing in disbelief. "What?"
"It's only been four months from my perspective," Peter repeated. "Krisalyn, I never intended to leave the way I did. I didn't have a choice. What happened was an accident."
"An accident?" she asked, incredulously. "An accident took you away from your family, your country, your responsibilities, for twenty-five years?"
"Yes."
She shook her head again. "I can't believe that, Peter. You swore to me that you would always come back, that you would never abandon me…but that's exactly what you did!"
"Mother," Aislynn inserted quickly, before her mother's rant could gain momentum. "If you don't give him a chance to explain, you won't ever understand what happened. Aunt Lucy told me the whole story, and it makes sense. Be kind enough to let him tell you what happened."
Krisalyn opened her mouth like she was going to say something more, but finally she closed it and nodded for Peter to speak.
"Thank you," Peter told his daughter softly, and she smiled at him. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, before he turned back to his wife, who was looking at him with eyes filled with bitterness. The look was more painful than a stab wound to the chest – something he had intimate experience with, since it had happened to him during one of the campaigns to quell the Giants of Ettinsmoor in the first few years of his rule.
"Kris, when we rode out from Cair Paravel that day, our only intention was to go after the White Stag," he began. "We nearly caught up with him, until we accidentally stopped to rest right under the lamppost."
"Lamppost?" Krisalyn and Aislynn echoed, confused by the strange word.
Peter nodded, before realizing that they wouldn't know what a lamppost was. "It's an object from England – the place where my siblings and I originally came from. They line the streets and are lit at night so that travelers can traverse the road in safety. This one was brought to Narnia at the same time Aslan sung her into being, by the White Witch. It marked the place where we originally entered Narnia. We found it and at first we had forgotten what it was, since we hadn't seen one in fifteen years. Lucy suddenly remembered that it had something to do with Spare Oom – the Narnians' term for where we came from. She led us back through the doorway that brought us here, and we arrived to find that the passageway sealed itself behind us – we couldn't get back through."
"There's a passageway out in the Western Woods that leads to another world?" Krisalyn asked, skeptically.
"Not anymore," Peter corrected her, gently. "We tried so many times to open it again – to get back through, but it didn't. I don't know if it is permanently closed or not, but we were unable to open it from England. The only choice we had at that point, since we didn't know any other way to get back to Narnia, was to resume our lives where we left off. Four months passed there before Caspian sounded Susan's horn and pulled us back into Narnia, only for us to discover that twenty-five years had passed here."
Krisalyn still looked skeptical of his claim. "Why are you younger than when you left, Peter? I remember you as being thirty-one, not…whatever age you are now."
"Sixteen," Peter said sadly. "It was a shock for us too. But time passes differently between England and Narnia. Even though fifteen years passed here since we first entered Narnia, back in England no time had passed at all. We somehow reverted back to the ages that we were when we first stepped into Narnia. Edmund thought that it might have been Aslan's doing, since it would have been hard to explain to our parents how we went away for a few months and returned home fifteen years older than when we left." He looked between his wife and his daughter. "Please, believe me, Krisalyn."
Both women were silent for a moment as they regarded Peter. Aislynn was the first to speak. "I believe you, Father. I don't understand why it happened, or why Aslan wouldn't have wanted you here to help Mother raise me, but you're here now, and that's all that matters to me." She rose to her feet and moved over in front of his stool before she knelt down so she could hug him again.
Tears filled Peter's eyes at the simple proclamation and the embrace she bestowed. More than anything, his daughter had every right to hate him because he had never been there, but instead she had accepted what had happened – accepted him – whole-heartedly, and wanted nothing more than to get to know him now.
Both of them turned slowly and looked at Krisalyn, waiting for her answer.
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As the Narnian Council, and the royalty of Archenland and Narnia filed into the smaller planning room that they had established for making the plans for the defense of the How and the raid on Cair Paravel, there was an air of awkwardness among the assembly. The Pevensies wanted desperately to pull their old friends aside and talk to them about everything that had happened over the last twenty-five years, to find out what had happened to those who were not here with them.
Equally as awkward, the Narnian Council – and the two Archenland royals – wanted to know where their Kings and Queens had been for the past twenty-five years, and what could have made them abandon their responsibility to their people and their country. Even more, they wanted to understand how their Kings and Queens, full adults when they left Narnia, were suddenly children again.
As everyone took their places around the small table, Edmund stood at the head, in the place that would normally be Peter's and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. As all eyes turned towards him, he saw Caspian hovering near the doorway, uncertain about where he should be. Edmund nodded him toward the table, and Caspian hesitated a moment before shaking his head and backing out of the room. Apparently he was still upset about the confrontation with Peter from earlier. Edmund resolved to speak to him later. He still wasn't entirely sure what had happened to cause them to pull out so abruptly from the raid, or what had caused the argument between his brother and the prince, but at the moment it wasn't important.
He shook his head before refocusing his attention on the rest of the group. "I know there are a great many questions that you have for the three of us," he began, calling the meeting to order. "At any other time, we would be more than pleased to answer them, since we have a great many questions of our own about what has been happening over the years that we have been gone." Nods all around, from everyone who was present, including his sisters.
"Unfortunately, at the moment, we don't have time to discuss what has past. The Telmarine army is aware that we have mustered for an attack, and that we are prepared to fight them now. I expect that they will be here very soon. We need to finish making plans to defend the How." Edmund looked around and met each person's gaze in turn. "This will be our only chance to save Narnia. If we fail here, the Telmarines will not show us any mercy. They failed to destroy the Narnians once, but they won't fail to do so again."
There was some restless shifting from the group as they realized the danger that Narnia was truly in. Until this point, because they had survived everything that the Telmarines had done to them, they had thought that if they failed to retake Narnia now, they could simply retreat and regroup and attack again when their enemies were least expecting it. But that wasn't going to be an option for them this time, because the Telmarines would not allow it. This was going to be their all or nothing final stand.
Edmund waited for several breaths, giving them time to absorb that concept. Learning just how perilously endangered one's way of life and history were was not something that was easy to grasp. Peter and Edmund had discussed it in great detail when they rode to the rendezvous from which they had launched the raid on the castle. They had, of course, been planning on a victory, but they had known that things could turn against them and they might have to prepare for a full assault at the How if they had failed. Too many years of tactical planning under Oreius' leadership had taught them to try to anticipate every outcome, but this was the one they had been hoping that they wouldn't have to deal with.
"Now," Edmund drew their attention back the matter at hand. "Cor, I am most pleased to see you again. How many men were you able to bring with you?"
"All that could be spared, King Edmund," the older King replied. "I brought fifteen hundred of my infantry, two hundred cavalry, and twenty-five scouts."
While it seemed like a great deal, especially when added to the various Narnian forces that were mustered, Edmund knew that they were still outnumbered. Caspian had mentioned that his uncle commanded two thousand men, just based in or near Cair Paravel, and there had been additional Lords of the Council who had men at their command. If Miraz managed to bring their whole army together, they would be sorely outnumbered – and that wasn't figuring in the siege weapons that the Telmarines had at their command.
Edmund only nodded in thanks. He turned to Oreius and Glenstorm. "General, we will need to work out tactics which will allow us to remove as many of the enemy forces as we can prior to their arrival, or in one fell swoop during the battle that they will be bringing to our very doorstep." Oreius nodded, the thoughtful expression on his face one that Edmund had seen any number of times when they were planning out their campaigns.
He turned next to Susan and Trumpkin. "Peter and I have discussed what the best possible way to allocate our resources is, and we decided that it would be to the greatest benefit to put the two of you in charge of the archers. You're both gifted archers yourselves, and you both command a great deal of respect because of it."
"Fair enough," Susan replied, as Trumpkin nodded in agreement.
Edmund turned next to Cornelius. "Doctor, it's good to meet you, although the circumstances are less than ideal. At the moment we only have theories about Miraz's plans. It was our hope that you would know more, since you have been closer to him than Caspian was."
The old tutor sighed. "Not that much closer, I'm afraid, Your Majesty. Suspicion fell on me almost immediately after Caspian escaped the night Miraz's son was born, and I was only the prince's tutor. I was never privy to the Council or their business. I was arrested and imprisoned two days after Caspian fled."
Edmund pursed his lips. "You must know something about the political atmosphere around Miraz."
Cornelius looked thoughtful. "One in my position hears things, unofficially. The Telmarines are well-known for being very ambitious. The Council of Lords does not fully trust Miraz, although I have no doubt that with the events of last night, he may be able to sway several of them to his side. They fear the Narnians, and with Caspian's status still somewhat uncertain, Lord Miraz is the highest ranking authority the Telmarines have."
Edmund's hands tightened where they rested on the edge of the table. "Is there any chance that they will name him King?"
Cornelius looked reluctant to speak, but finally nodded. "I would say that there is a very good chance. Caspian broke into the palace and attacked his uncle and Lady Prunaprismia and freed a prisoner. Those are not the actions of a man who is supposedly allied with the Telmarines. Miraz is very canny, and I have no doubt that he'll use that in order to have himself named King."
Edmund resisted the urge to swear. The one thing that they had been hoping to avoid was coming to pass. If Miraz was named King and was able to rally the entire army, they would be in even more trouble than they currently were. They couldn't even try another surprise attack, because Miraz was now alerted and wouldn't leave himself that unguarded again.
"If that should come to pass, what would we be looking at in terms of the number of men that Miraz would bring to bear against us?" Corin asked, understanding what Edmund didn't wish to voice.
Cornelius sighed. "Possibly tens of thousands of men and dozens of war machines. There were originally eighteen lords of the council, but over the last eighteen years those who openly supported Caspian instead of Miraz have mysteriously vanished. Now only eleven, including Miraz, remain. The only thing that might prevent such an occurrence would be Miraz's arrogance. He may believe that he has enough men to overrun us without needing to call upon the full army."
Edmund nodded. "May Aslan bring that to pass," he murmured softly. Looking around at their war council, he reached for the parchments in front of him. "We are pressed for time, my friends. Let us finalize our plans."
"King Edmund, if I may?" Cor inserted quietly. "What about King Peter and Prince Caspian? Do we not need their input as well?"
Edmund let his breath out in a slow sigh to prevent the retort that wanted to emerge instead. "Peter has a great deal to discuss with his wife. He'll join us soon enough. He and I have already discussed most of these plans and he trusts me to implement them in his absence." It was an old dance, and one that had long been set aside as Edmund and his siblings had aged the first time they were in Narnia.
In the early years of their reign, many of those that they dealt with had sorely underestimated them because of their youth, looking to Peter as the sole authority. Peter, at sixteen, was the oldest of them and a natural leader, as he had demonstrated at Beruna. It had taken time for Susan, Edmund, and Lucy to acquire the leadership skills that Peter had been born with. His title of High King had constantly fooled people, because they didn't seem to comprehend that Peter's younger siblings had just as much authority as Peter did, and could, if necessary overrule their High King.
Cor had never known them without the royal bearing and experience that age and years of ruling had brought. He hadn't met them until a year before they departed Narnia, when they had fourteen years of ruling behind them. They had been adults – experienced, wise, and with the confidence that came from success. Now, however, the Archenland King was seeing them as so many others who had taken one look at the four of them in the early years and seen only children whose authority was lesser than that of the High King.
He was forgetting that they had fifteen years of experience in leading a country. He was more than twice Edmund's current age, and despite the friendship between them in that year before they had returned to England, both the Archenland royals were falling into the trap of underestimating Aslan's chosen monarchs.
Cor seemed to realize exactly what Edmund was implying and lowered his head in apology, which Edmund granted with a nod. As much as it had used to irk him, being treated as lesser than Peter, it honestly didn't matter anymore. The years had given him steadiness and confidence in his own abilities, and right now Narnia needed her rulers and allies to stand firm. Splintering under the weight of twenty-five years past would only give the Telmarines an easy victory over them.
"As for Prince Caspian," Edmund continued smoothly. "I am afraid that there is a great deal that we still need to work out, which I intend to do once we have finished here. Right now, we need these plans finalized so that we can finish making our preparations for the assault."
The council all nodded, although Cornelius had a small frown on his face, before they bent to their task of preparing to repel the Telmarine assault.
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Peter held his breath as he waited for Krisalyn to accept what he had told her. He didn't know what else he could do to convince her. If she refused him here, he would have to leave her for the time being, because he was needed in the war council. He trusted Edmund to handle things, but his first responsibility was to Narnia. He was afraid, however, that if he was forced to leave to deal with that, he would drive Krisalyn further away from him than she already was.
He didn't know what was going on in her mind, but it clearly had something to do with the idea of being abandoned by her husband. He didn't want her to feel that he was abandoning her again, but as she knew all too well, his responsibilities to Narnia had to come first, and he would leave if he must.
Krisalyn's violet eyes were fixed on his face as a flurry of emotions crossed her face, quickly enough that he wasn't able to read her. Whatever internal debate she was going through, it was intense as she tried to weigh her own feelings and the past twenty-five years over what she knew about Peter and his promises.
Finally, after what seemed an interminable amount of time by Peter's estimate, she sighed. "I think I will need more time to fully accept everything, Peter…but I believe you. As you pointed out, you have never lied to me before, and why you would start now over something that is so important doesn't make sense." He let out his relief in a slow, controlled breath, resisting the urge to catch her up in his arms and kiss her. While she might believe his story, at the moment it was clear that she wouldn't welcome such a gesture from him. Her eyes stayed fixed on his. "What happened between us has hurt me deeply, Peter. It will take time for me to trust you…to love you…again."
Her words stabbed at his heart, but he understood. After everything that she had been through, there was only so quickly she could adjust to their changed situation. Neither of them were truly the same people that they had been before Peter and his siblings had returned to England, and he logically couldn't expect to simply pick up where they left off. At least, that was what his mind was telling him. His heart knew the truth, and it was hard to silence it for the time being. He wanted nothing more than to embrace what Aslan had told him on the day of his wedding – that it was the heart, and not logic, that led to the truth.
But Krisalyn's heart had been sorely damaged by his perceived abandonment, and they were equals in this relationship. While he wanted nothing more than to show her just how much he still loved her, to convince her until she had no further doubts, it simply wouldn't work in that fashion, and he knew it.
Reaching out, he caught her hand in his and gently ran his thumb over the back of it, before he raised it to his lips and kissed it. "I understand, Krisalyn. I only hope that I will get the opportunity when this is over to convince you, and to help you regain your trust in me." He looked between his wife and his daughter. "I love both of you so much. If I could change anything about what happened, I would, but that power doesn't lie within my ability. All I can – all I will – do is give you the time you've asked for."
He rose slowly to his feet and looked between them again. "I'm sorry, but I have to go now and assist in the defense of the How." Aislynn nodded in understanding, and after a moment, so did Krisalyn, although her eyes reflected her hurt that he was choosing to leave again. This was the issue of trust that she had mentioned. Always in their relationship, Peter had placed Narnia first, as was his duty as High King. Most of the time, that had been acceptable to Krisalyn, because she had known when she married him that his responsibilities would always rest first with Narnia and then with her and their children.
But now, after meeting again twenty-five years after his apparent abandonment – whether he truly did or not, seeing him leaving again was enough to bring those hurts back to the surface before she could prevent them. Peter saw them and immediately moved to comfort her. He knelt at her feet – a privilege he never granted anyone save Aslan – and looked up at her as he took her hand again.
"Remember my promise, Krisalyn," he whispered. "I will return, but Narnia is facing peril unlike any it has known before. I am needed."
She took a deep breath and slowly expelled it. "I know. Go, Peter. I will wait."
It was what she had always done, she reflected as Peter kissed her hand again and rose to his feet and strode out of the room. She would wait, and watch, and hope. There would be time later to tell him the truth…to tell him that she wouldn't be able to wait for much longer.
"Mother?" Aislynn asked after Peter left the room. "What is it?"
"It's always been that way between us, daughter. I have always been second to your father, because his duty comes first." She looked at her daughter, who was more like her father than she probably realized. "But you know as well as I do that I won't be able to wait forever."
"The healers?"
"Have done all they can," Krisalyn admitted. She had seen them just before Aislynn's message had reached Anvard, which was why she had been so adamant about accompanying the Archenland forces to the How. "I'm running out of time, Aislynn. Now, my life rests solely in Aslan's paws."
*ducks and runs from crazed mob of loyal readers* Don't kill me...and don't forget to review! Your encouragement is what inspires me!