Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thanks so much for your patience with this story. Real life snuck up and attacked me again, and unlike our heroes, I didn't have a sword to fight back. I've been wrestling with this chapter for a while now, and tonight the words finally felt like they were coming. As a warning, this chapter contains a lot of messy emotional stuff, as well as a couple of flashbacks. But don't worry, we'll be picking up on the action soon enough - hopefully in the next chapter! Don't forget to read and leave me a review!
Chapter Twenty-One: Heartfelt Confessions
Edmund's heart was still pounding from the confrontation with the Witch as he made his way out of the Stone Table chamber with Trumpkin, Lucy, and Aislynn. The old memories of his time as her captive were racing through his mind, and he shuddered as the adrenaline continued to course through him.
It was ironic that, unlike Peter, he tended to become nervous about a situation after it had already happened. Before and during a battle, he was usually able to stay calm and level-headed, trusting his own skills and their strategy. Peter, on the other hand, showed his nerves far more plainly before a battle than he did.
But after the battle was over, the impact of what had just happened – what could have happened – hit him all at once, and when combined with the adrenaline that he usually managed to work up, it left him a shaking, babbling mess.
Over the years, he'd learned to control the babbling at least, but the emotional and adrenaline high had never faded, and it was again rearing its ugly head.
It had been so close…if they had arrived any later, the Witch would have come back. She had almost reached Caspian when Peter interfered, and she had even manipulated the High King into nearly freeing her.
Aslan, if you put Aislynn in the right place to hear what was going on in time to warn us…thank you. We couldn't have fought the Witch and the Telmarines at the same time. There is too much at stake for that complication. Now…let that be the last that we ever hear from her.
As his thoughts turned to Aislynn, he paused in mid-step. Something that she had said had been nagging at him, but he had pressed it aside in the worry over the Witch, and again in the chamber when he had watched Peter almost succumb to Jadis' manipulations.
Lucy, Aislynn, and Trumpkin moved on several more paces before they realized that Edmund had stopped in the middle of the corridor and appeared to be deep in thought. Lucy tipped her head to the side. "Edmund? What's wrong?"
Edmund slowly focused on Aislynn's face. Her words were ringing in his mind. When she came into the planning room, she was yelling for her father…and Peter responded. But didn't she say that she didn't know who her father was when we first met her? And in the Table chamber…it was something about... "Do you think so poorly of my father", wasn't it? And we were looking at Peter when she said that…
He studied the young woman more closely. Now, with these thoughts roiling in his mind, he could see things that he hadn't before. Black hair, just like Krisalyn's…her eyes are almost a blend of Krisalyn's and Peter's, that soft blue-violet…she's tall like Peter was and like Krisalyn is…
The more he looked at her, the more he was able to pick out parts of her appearance that were purely Peter, and other parts that were definitely inherited from Krisalyn. She's in her mid-twenties…that would put her the right age to be Peter's daughter…
For a moment he thought he couldn't breathe as the realization swept over him. All he could do was stare at Aislynn…his niece...who was he kidding? She was Peter's daughter!
"Edmund?" Lucy's sweet voice asked, sounding puzzled by her brother's unresponsiveness.
Susan, Cor, Corin, and the rest of the Narnian Council hurried around the corner from behind Lucy at that moment, slowing to a stop as they saw that everyone was apparently unhurt. Susan placed her hands gently on Lucy's shoulders, before looking at Edmund.
"Edmund, where's Peter?" Susan asked, tightening her grip on Lucy's shoulders. "He's not hurt, is he?"
Edmund blinked at the question and shook his head. "No, he's fine. He'll join us in a few minutes." He smiled at his older sister, before he turned his attention to Aislynn.
The young woman in question looked puzzled as she realized that he was staring at her. "King Edmund? Is something wrong? Is there something I might assist you with?"
Edmund looked at her for several second more. "Lady Aislynn…if you please…who are your parents?"
The Narnian Council murmured in surprise at their Just King's question. There was uneasy shifting from several of the members of the Council, but no one spoke as Aislynn started, taken aback by the inquiry.
After a moment however, she regained control of herself, her surprise fading to a gentle smile and pride filling her features. "I am the daughter of High King Peter and Queen Krisalyn of Narnia," she said quietly. "I was born twenty-five years ago in the Narnian month of Greenroof, on the eighteenth day of the month."
Susan's mouth dropped open, her surprise was so great, as well as being reflected in the faces of Caspian's Council. Trumpkin, Reepicheep, Trufflehunter, Glenstorm, and Doctor Cornelius all appeared as surprised as Edmund and Susan were at hearing Aislynn's true identity. Their princess had been working beside them for over a week, and she had not said a word.
Despite his surprise at the confirmation of his suspicion (which he honestly hadn't expected) Edmund was quick to note that Oreius, the Black Dwarf Ratha, Tumnus, Cor, and Corin were exhibiting no surprise whatsoever. They had known the whole time and they had not breathed a word. However, Edmund also noted that Lucy didn't seem surprised either.
"Lu?" he asked, quietly, wondering if she had possibly known.
"I knew, Ed," she said simply.
"How?" Susan asked, recovering her poise more quickly than he would have expected.
Lucy shrugged delicately. "Instinct, perhaps? Too many things pointed to it, and at first I wasn't sure, but I just watched and listened until Aislynn's own reaction gave it away."
Edmund looked at Aislynn. "You knew all along who your father was and didn't say anything?"
Aislynn shook her head. "Not at all, King Edmund," she replied softly. "I had no idea until Aunt – Queen - Lucy told me. My mother never told me who my father was, and she never told me that she was a Queen of Narnia. After Queen Lucy told me her suspicions, I confronted Corin and he confirmed it."
"It was Krisalyn's will that we not say anything about it to Princess Aislynn," Oreius said quietly. "Originally, before the Telmarines invaded, Queen Krisalyn took control of the four thrones with the intention of stepping aside once Princess Aislynn was old enough to claim them as the heir. But when the Telmarines invaded, the plans changed. Krisalyn didn't want there to be any chance that word would reach the invaders that the Queen and heir were still alive. With the agreement of the Council, we said nothing to Aislynn about her identity or her parents' identity after we fled Narnia."
Edmund looked between his sisters, the Council, and the rest of their friends before he looked back at Aislynn. She was looking back at him with her soft eyes, a quiet blend of Peter's and Krisalyn's. Looking into her eyes, Edmund saw a quiet hope, love, and longing and in that split second, he wasn't looking at Aislynn. The similarity of her features to Peter, even if she had more of her mother in her, and that expression…it was Peter to a tee.
It was the expression that Peter had worn on the day when Krisalyn had told him that she was expecting the child that they had eventually lost. It was the same expression that he wore every time he had looked at Krisalyn after they fell in love, but then it had been filled with pride as well.
In that moment, Edmund completely forgot that he wasn't looking at his brother, because the expression on his niece's face was so close to Peter. He stepped closer to her and gently wrapped his arms around her for a hug, in the same way he did when Peter wore that expression on his face. It was awkward because of their height differences but it felt right nonetheless.
Caught by surprise, it took her several seconds to respond, but then she returned the hug, just before Susan and Lucy joined them in sharing a large group hug. The four of them stood there, just sharing the embrace and the joy of realizing that they were a family. The only thing missing was the presence of Peter and Krisalyn to complete their family circle.
They broke apart, and Susan and Lucy both shared individual hugs with Aislynn, quietly and openly declaring her as one of them, and accepting her into the family that she had never known.
As they finally broke apart, Edmund looked at the gathered group. "We need to finish making our plans for the defense of the How," he said seriously. "Everyone is counting on us to be ready when the Telmarines arrive."
The group nodded and headed back up the tunnel towards the smaller Council room, knowing that Peter would join them soon enough.
***********************************************************************
Krisalyn watched quietly as Aislynn's identity was revealed to her uncle and aunts. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as her daughter was welcomed into their fold. Keeping the secret from Aislynn all these years had been the hardest thing she had ever done – and she still wasn't sure that it had been the best plan.
But she had made her decision and she had stood by it, and now Aislynn knew the truth. Peter's daughter had found her family again, and they would be there to help her when Krisalyn left to walk with Aslan in his Country. Peter and the others would help her adjust, and they would meet again one day.
She closed her eyes to force back the tears at the thought of everything that she would miss. She had resigned herself to being without Peter years ago, but she had still hoped and prayed that Aslan would grant her enough time to see her daughter happy, healthy, and in possession of the throne that was rightfully hers.
"Your Majesty, I don't know what more we can do," Arctus said quietly after he finished examining her. "We've tried every thing I know of and a few things that were purely experimental."
Krisalyn took a deep breath as she absorbed the impact of the healer's words. The dizzy spells had been growing worse and worse over the last few months, but they had been occurring, off and on, for almost a year, along with almost consistent headaches and bouts of extreme nausea and numbness in her limbs.
Taken individually, there were plenty of remedies – from Narnia, Archenland, and Calormen – for her symptoms, but nothing that took care of all of them at once. Often, when one symptom would lessen in severity as a result of a treatment, the others would become worse. They had been treating her based on a system of trial and error for the last year, and nothing had proven to be effective at treating whatever ailed her.
"What would you say is our next recourse?" she finally asked. She needed answers of some kind, even if they weren't the ones that she wanted to hear. With Aislynn having been sent to Narnia to help to thwart the Telmarine invaders, she was on her own. Cor, Corin, and Aravis had been so supportive, doing everything they could to help her, but there was only so much she could do.
Arctus shook his head. "I honestly don't know what to tell you, Your Majesty. If your symptoms continue to increase as they have been, there's no telling what condition they could leave you in. At most, I would give you three to five years if they continue to increase at the same rate – but if something changes, it could be much less. I'll continue looking for anything we haven't tried yet, but I think we need to give you time to recover from the treatments we've already tried. If we try to mix too many more treatments together, we could end up doing more harm than good."
Krisalyn sighed heavily. It was hard to imagine that this was where it would end. She'd been alone – without her beloved Peter – for twenty-five years, but she was only fifty-six. She had hoped that she would get to see Aislynn married and happy, with a family of her own, seated firmly on the throne that was her birthright, even though she didn't know it.
"My life is in Aslan's paws," she whispered quietly.
"I'm afraid so, Your Majesty. I suspect that he is the only one who could do anything at this point."
She needed to tell Peter. She had not expected to ever see him again, and she had braced herself for the fact that she would be leaving Aislynn alone. He would watch out for Aislynn and be there for her – she knew him well enough to know that now that he knew about his daughter, nothing would keep them apart.
But then again…
Peter had abandoned them once before – deliberately or by accident, Krisalyn still wasn't sure – and could she really say that he wouldn't do the same thing again once he found out about her condition?
No…there was still too much broken trust between them. She needed to wait and learn more – to see if she could place her faith in the man she had loved again. There would still be time once the situation with the Telmarines was resolved.
***********************************************************************
Peter and Caspian stood in the Stone Table room, not speaking to each other as they both stared at the carved relief of Aslan on the wall. The remnants of the magical ice that had contained Jadis were slowly melting into the dirt floor of the chamber. Soon, there would be no trace that anything had happened here.
Caspian watched as Peter seemed to shake off whatever shock seemed to possess him as he took on a solemn countenance. He braced himself to be scolded or accused by the High King again, even though he hadn't known what Nikabrik had intended to do. All he had wanted to do was help – to find someway to stop his uncle so he could keep the promise he had made to the Narnians when they agreed to support him.
Instead, Peter didn't even look at him as he walked over to the steps and bent down to receive the Witch's broken wand. A deep scowl crossed Peter's face as he handled the shards, but he shook it off as he picked up the werewolf's cloak and wrapped the wand inside it. "Aslan, let that be the last that we ever see of her," he whispered quietly, setting the wand on the Table before taking a seat on one of the stone steps and staring at the relief on the wall.
Feeling awkward, as if he was intruding on a private moment, Caspian turned away from the younger boy. "I'm sorry. I didn't know." The words were almost as soft as Peter's had been before he turned and walked out of the chamber.
The corridors were quiet as Caspian moved through them. He had a lot of thinking to do. He had made more than one mistake, and he needed to rectify them before his uncle arrived.
The smell of fresh, clean morning air drew him higher and higher inside the How until he exited on the level that ran above the main entrance. Ahead of him, to the north, the edges of the sky were starting to become tinged with pink and gold as the sun rose higher in the east.
North was his home – the castle he had grown up in – the one that by all rights truly belonged to Peter and his siblings.
As much as he wanted to convince himself otherwise, his confrontation with the Witch had shown him that he wasn't ready to become King. He had done the best he could before Narnia's monarchs had returned, but compared to them and their legend, he was floundering.
He took a seat on a boulder that was covered with soft moss. He was coming to realize that he was a failure, in more ways than one. Somehow he had disappointed his uncle, his professor, the Narnians, and the Narnian monarchs. He wasn't much of a leader – he had been making up plans as they went along – he didn't know enough about Narnia's history to know when he should be cautious, and the things he had just done in the Stone Table room could be interpreted as traitorous.
He sensed someone behind him and glanced over his shoulder to see Dr. Cornelius standing there. Caspian turned back to look at the field that stretched out in front of the How to the tree line. It was a field that would soon be soaked in Narnian and Telmarine blood. "I'm sorry. I've gone against everything you taught me."
Dr. Cornelius sat down on the boulder beside him with some difficulty – owing to his bulk – and gazed out at the field as well. "You are still young, my Prince, and this is a challenge that I prayed you would never need to face."
"Why did you never tell me about my father?"
"My mother was a Black Dwarf from the Northern Mountains. I was sent back into Narnia long before you were born in the hopes of getting myself into a position where I could influence your father or – if necessary – you, and help to restore Narnia in that way."
Caspian looked at his tutor in surprise. As he thought about how his uncle had always been so adamant that the stories of Narnia and her history not be taught to him – the reason that his nurse had been sent away – and yet his (apparently) purely Telmarine tutor knew all of the stories and would secretly defy Miraz in order to teach Caspian the true history of the country he was to rule one day, he wondered why he had never realized that Cornelius was a Narnian spy years ago.
"I first arrived at the court not long after you were born. Even though I wasn't in a position to reach out to you or your father at that point, I could see from the beginning that your uncle would do anything to claim the throne. When your father died so suddenly, not long after you were born, I had my suspicions, but no real proof. There were other rumors and veiled accusations from the Council, but Miraz took such care in raising you, and in not doing anything overt to seize the throne that was being held in trust for you, that the suspicion died away until recently."
Cornelius looked up at Caspian, seeing the understanding cross his face as he grasped what he was being told. "I risked my life all these years so that one day you might be a better King than those before you, one who could compare to the expectations that the Narnians had."
Caspian looked down, realizing again just how many mistakes he had made, whether out of jealousy, a sense of betrayal, or pure ignorance. "Then I have failed you."
Cornelius smiled and carefully laid a hand on Caspian's forearm. "Everything I told you…everything I didn't…it was only because I believe in you. You have a chance to become the most noble contradiction in history. The Telmarine who saved Narnia."
***********************************************************************
When Edmund had been revealed as having stabbed Jadis from behind in order to stop her spell of seduction, it had taken Peter several seconds to shake off her spell. By the time Edmund, who was breathing as if he had just run a marathon, stepped forward, he had mostly cast off the effects.
He was able to truthfully say in response to Edmund's query of "Are you all right, Peter?" that he was fine, and to thank his brother – not just for stopping Jadis, but for everything. For helping him adjust to being back in England, even when his younger siblings had all been going through the same thing, to being a listening ear when Peter needed it…to just being his brother.
Everything that had happened, the incredibly guilty thoughts that had been running through his head while he was under the spell came crashing back to him. How had he gone so wrong?
He watched, as if from a distance as Edmund stepped forward again, inquiring about everyone's well-being and receiving affirmative answers. The relief of Aslan in front of him, framed by the trilithion and the melting ice stared down at him, and Peter felt his throat tighten with guilt and regret.
Edmund stepped closer to his brother. "Pete, we'll see you back in the council room?"
Peter nodded slowly. "In a few minutes, Edmund. I need to think about some things."
"Peter…do you need one of us to stay?" the youngest Queen asked softly.
Peter shook his head. "No…thanks, Lu. I'll be there in a few minutes." And he would, but he did need to think about some things. Slowly, everyone left the room until he and Caspian were left standing in front of the relief of Aslan. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Caspian look guiltily at him.
Another stab of guilt pierced him. He had not been fair to the Prince. Coming back to find things so changed in Narnia, when it had only been twenty-five years (even though it was only four months for him) had been painful, and it made him wonder just what kind of an affect he and his siblings had had on Narnia.
Jadis had almost destroyed Narnia – would have, if it hadn't been for Aslan and the Deep Magic calling to them. It had taken several years to truly eliminate the taint that the Witch had left on the kingdom. They had had to track down and destroy the remaining members of the Witch's army, they'd had to do extensive research in the libraries of Cair Paravel to find the laws and decrees that had been Narnia's governing forces before Jadis conquered…and Peter and the other three had need to learn how to become Kings and Queens.
For fifteen years, Narnia had prospered – and from everything he had heard, had continued to prosper once Krisalyn had stepped forward to hold the throne in trust for Aislynn. But then, in one fell swoop everything had changed for the worse, and the Narnia that he remembered was all but gone. The Council and his wife and daughter had been in exile for twenty years, the Narnians had been forced into hiding for fear of being killed if they were seen, and now they were facing another pitched battle to decide Narnia's fate. There was no sign or word from Aslan, so they didn't even know if what they were doing was part of his plan or not.
As he gazed at the image of Aslan, his eyes fell on the shattered piece of Jadis' wand. The sight of the evil thing brought chills down his spine as he remembered what it had done to Edmund, to so many Narnians, while being wielded by the Witch. Now, somehow, it had nearly been used to bring her back from beyond the grave.
Moving slowly, and with deliberate purpose, he stepped over to where there was a large black cloak on the floor. He picked it up, and then walked over to the wand and wrapped the thick cloth around the wand before yanking it up out of the magical ice where it was embedded.
Another shiver went through him, and he couldn't help the scowl that broke out on his face as he looked at the deceptively fragile piece of crystal and silver. Of all the things that had survived from the time they had first entered Narnia, this was one that he wished had never seen the light of day again.
"Aslan, let that be the last we ever see of her," he whispered as he placed the shrouded wand on top of the Stone Table. He still wasn't ready to rejoin the others, but they would need to find a safe place to put the wand until they could ask Aslan what was to be done with it.
He moved over and took a seat on the steps leading up to the Table and gazed at the relief of Aslan, still trying to sort through the turmoil in his mind. He barely heard the words that Caspian whispered as he backed out of the chamber to leave Peter to his thoughts. He needed to make some decisions, and quickly. He would be needed in the Council again soon.
The strain and the stress of dealing with a changed Narnia, plus the upcoming battle between the Narnians and the Telmarines, and the situation with his wife and daughter had made him snappish and inflexible. It was one of his worst faults – when he felt too stressed and worried, he didn't react well to challenges, or anything that he perceived as incompetence.
He knew that he had been too hard on Caspian. He truly did like the young man, but he had seen, right from the beginning that Caspian didn't have a true grasp of what Kingship meant. Part of that was no doubt due to his upbringing. He had probably been taught a great deal about the theories of ruling, but had never been given any practical experience.
As a result of what he had observed, he had come down much harder than he would have normally done on the Prince. Caspian was looking to put himself in the position that was his by birth – King of the Telmarines – and also to ally himself with the Narnians in the hope that he could unite the two peoples under a sole King. He probably hadn't realized that there was a living heir – since the Narnians had not seemed to be aware of it either, which meant that unless Aslan willed otherwise, Caspian would not be the Narnian King. That position – or rather, the position of Queen – rightfully belonged to Aislynn.
The Narnians had become his people, and Peter didn't want to see his people placed under the rule of someone who truly did not understand them, which was another reason why he had been hard on Caspian. But he knew he hadn't been fair, either. Given what he knew about Caspian's upbringing, Caspian probably knew about as much as Peter had when he and his siblings had first been crowned by Aslan. They had learned, from tutors and through trial and error, how to be the Kings and Queens that Aslan had intended them to be. Caspian could learn as well – but they would have to settle the matter of where the rule of Narnia would fall – to Caspian, or to Aislynn.
Peter felt a burden lift from his shoulders. He had made the decision about what to do regarding Caspian's situation. It would still take some coordination, but they could come up with a reasonable, workable plan, once Narnia had been saved and they had the luxury to sit down and reason things out.
His thoughts turned, almost inadvertently to his wife and daughter. Now that he was no longer under the Witch's mesmerizing spell, he was able to think more objectively, and he started reasoning through the thoughts that had crossed his mind before Edmund had stabbed Jadis.
Technically, he had not fulfilled the vows he had made to Krisalyn. During the time they had been together, her protection, like his and his siblings, had been in Oreius' capable hands as far as arranging for their personal guards went. But, as her husband, it had fallen on him to see that the protection she was entitled to was carried out, and he had done that. In return, she had given him a shelter and a refuge from the duties of being the High King, had given him her love and affection, and been a partner to him in everyway that she knew how.
But he had failed even more deeply. When she had told him that she was pregnant with Aislynn, and he had chosen to leave to go hunting with his siblings, he had failed. Even though he could not have possibly known what would happen, he had voluntarily chosen to leave her. Despite her insistence, he should have stayed. So in a way, he had abandoned her, and thus he had broken his deepest promise to her – that he would never abandon her or their family. While some people might not see it that way, his heart knew the truth.
At this point, he couldn't fix the mistake, but he could seek her forgiveness, and work to regain her trust – and that was all that he could do. The rest of it was up to her. He had hurt her, and it would be her trust that she would grant him when she felt that he had earned it again. It was out of his hands.
It is out of my hands, he repeated to himself. I've done all that I can do, and that is that.
With another decision made and resolved in his mind, the burden of guilt, grief, and worry that had been weighing him down seemed much lighter than it had been…but there was still a massive black cloud hanging over his head – the darkest of all of them, and the one that he was most ashamed of.
Aslan…
When they had first stepped into Narnia, and Peter had heard the great Lion's name spoken by Mr. Beaver, it had filled him with a sense of hope, courage, and confidence that he could be the King that the Beavers believed he was. Seeing Aslan in the camp at Beruna had given him another massive surge of confidence – confidence that had carried him through the battle with the Witch and her army.
On the battlefield of Beruna, Peter had sworn his faith, loyalty, and trust to Aslan. The King Above All Kings had not asked it of him, but Peter had given it freely, along with his love. That oath had allowed him to become the High King that Narnia needed – to hold to the chivalry and honor that was expected of a Knight, to represent Narnia with dignity, compassion, and justice, and to love her people as deeply as he loved his siblings.
He had never doubted Aslan's power, plan, or love for Narnia – not once in fifteen years. He had doubted himself and his own abilities at times, but he had always had his siblings and later his wife to pull him back and remind him of the things that Aslan had seen in him to get him back on the path he had willingly agreed to walk.
But standing inside the circle, being seduced by the Witch…he had, for the first time, doubted Aslan. He had lost the faith in Aslan that had made him magnificent. Even during the fifteen years they had sat on the thrones and things had felt uncertain and dangerous, Peter had felt the calm reassurance that he knew had come from Aslan. No matter how big the threat had been – whether it had been the Fell Creatures who were left from the Witch's army, or the Giants of Ettinsmoor, or the Calormen army…he had always been confident that if it got to be too much for them to handle, Aslan would be there to help them. Narnia was where he had put his grace and his power, and it was the home of his beloved children.
Quiet footsteps drew his attention as Lucy came over to where he was sitting on the steps leading up to the Table. He looked over at her but didn't say anything as Lucy sat down beside him. After a moment, he returned his attention to the relief of Aslan.
"You're lucky, you know?"
Lucy looked over at him, a puzzled frown on her face. "What do you mean?"
"You still have faith," Peter replied. He could tell that she still didn't understand. "Lu, you've always been the one who was able to believe the easiest. Even though I never doubted Aslan once I swore myself to him…before I could truly put my faith in him, I doubted…and I doubted again when he sent us back to England without Krisalyn."
Lucy was quiet as she thought about what he was saying – and what he wasn't saying. "Peter, you have no reason to be jealous."
Peter looked at her sharply, the denial on his tongue, before he allowed it to die. His little sister was very good at reading people, and he wouldn't disrespect her by not allowing her to finish what she was saying. At times, she was able to get to the heart of a matter with only a few words. Even though Susan was the one who was the Gentle, there was a great deal of gentleness and insight in his youngest sister too.
"We're two different people, you and I," Lucy continued. "I'm the youngest, and you and the others have always done more to shelter me than you have with each other. But you…you're the oldest, Peter. You had to become a protector for the rest of us, and you are the High King. Aslan made us all equal in power and authority, but he placed the bulk of the burden on you. You have always been our role model, so there was a different standard that you had to meet."
She stood up and walked over to the relief and gently reached out and brushed her hand over it. "You've never truly lost faith in Aslan, Peter, no matter what your head is telling you. If you had, you wouldn't have the love for Narnia that I have seen in your eyes every time I look at you ever since we first stepped into Narnia. I think you were really the first one to have that faith, because I saw it when you apologized for not believing me, right before I threw that snowball in your face."
Peter snorted with laughter, remembering that. She had caught him by complete surprise that day, before events had accelerated and grown more intense…back when they were just four ordinary English school children and wartime evacuees.
Lucy joined his laughter. "Peter, I was the first one to see Narnia, to believe in it…but you were the first one to understand it, to realize what our role here would be, even before you heard the prophecy, or Aslan's name, or saw Mr. Beaver's fealty to us." She moved back over to sit beside him again. "You've gone through trials that I haven't, and that's why our faith and trust cannot and should not be compared. I've never been in love with someone…I've never anticipated being a parent – not once, but twice, I might point out – and I've never lost something that powerful and been floundering because it was such an important part of who I am."
She paused for a moment. "Do you remember the day that you told us you were planning to ask Krisalyn to marry you?"
Peter fingered the small velvet-wrapped bundle in his pocket. He had had it secretly commissioned, because he didn't want the topic to come up until he was ready. Rumors and gossip spread like wildfires among the Narnians, who were always looking for news and stories to share. He didn't want the Court to know…but more importantly, he didn't want his siblings to know until he had the opportunity to break the news to them and get their thoughts on the matter. What he was considering would affect all of them, in many different ways.
He was waiting in the sitting room that had been set aside as their private meeting place. Since they all had their suites in one of the two tallest towers in Cair Paravel, they didn't have a truly good place that they could all share equally or with special guests that they wished to entertain as a group. Susan – who had taken over the role of hostess within Cair Paravel - had quickly set up the small sitting room for just that purpose, and the four of them could be found here almost every night unless there was a feast or a festival that necessitated their presence, or if one of them was away fulfilling their obligations to Narnia.
He waited until all three of them had selected drinks and light treats and settled in their chosen spots. Tonight was a perfect night to broach the topic he wanted to discuss with them, because if they agreed he would have to go on a short trip, which would mean entrusting them with his responsibilities for a brief time…but more than that, because the sooner he addressed the issue, the less time he would have to lose his nerve.
Edmund leaned back in his chair as he sipped the warm, spiced cider he had chosen. It was a late autumn evening and the crisp breezes were blowing gently into the room from the eastern balcony. It was an ideal night for warm cider – especially since the Narnian blend of spices were amazing. "What did you want to talk to us about, Pete?"
Peter took a deep breath and closed his hand over the bundle in his pocket. "I needed to tell you that I am planning on leaving to go to Archenland in a day or two," he began.
All three of his siblings sat up alertly. "Whatever for?" Susan asked. "No dispatches have come from Lune, and he was just up here for the anniversary celebration two months ago."
"It's nothing to do with the kingdom – at least, not it's safety or trade," Peter assured them. "It's a personal matter."
"Peter, whatever it is, you need to tell us." Susan's voice took on a stern tone. "We're your equals, and if it affects you or Narnia in anyway, it affects all three of us."
He nodded and pulled his hand, clutching the bundle, out of his pocket and placed it on the table in front of them. "I know, Susan. You didn't let me finish what I was going to say. I would never keep something like this from you, because it will affect all of us." He unwrapped the little square of velvet, revealing a beautiful silver pendant made in the shape of a heart set inside a white rose. The heart was made of tiny rubies, and the white rose of pearls.
"I am going to Anvard to speak to King Lune about asking for Princess Krisalyn's hand in marriage, and to propose to her if he agrees," Peter said. "She's old enough that I don't have to ask consent, but since she is Lune's heir and marrying me will mean she has to renounce that position, it concerns him as well."
His siblings were speechless. Peter had been courted by every noble woman in the world it seemed. After they had been crowned, the women had flocked to Cair Paravel, professing their love for the High King, and Peter had refused every one of them, saying that they didn't know him, so they couldn't love him. They were in love with the idea of being the High King's wife and they craved the status and power that position would grant them.
Ironically enough, it was only Princess Krisalyn who had not professed her love for Peter at any point. After Lune had introduced them, she and Peter had become very good friends – and dance partners – but she had never seemed to show any romantic interest in him, which had been a relief to him in more than one way.
Lucy studied the beautiful pendant that Peter would be giving to Krisalyn as a betrothal gift if she accepted his proposal. "I didn't think you were interested in getting married, Peter. You've rejected every woman who's come to the Cair for the last five years."
Peter smiled and reached out to squeeze his youngest sister's hand. "I never rejected the idea of getting married, Lu. I figured out pretty early after we were crowned that we would all have to get married someday. I was rejecting the women themselves. They were all beautiful, but they were only looking for the status of being my wife. I wanted someone who loves me, not my title…and I wanted someone who would be a friend. Krisalyn and I have a solid friendship, I think, and I do think I am in love with her. She has some of the best qualities of you and Su – your kindness, compassion, gentleness, and responsibility – but other than one joke about Lune trying to get the two of us together in the hopes that we would be a match, she's never said a word about marriage. She is the only one who didn't throw herself at me, but when they were here for the anniversary, I thought I saw love in her face when we talked and when we danced."
He sat back slightly. "But that's why I'm telling the three of you, first. If the three of us are going to get married, I think we should all agree on our intendeds. You three are more important to me than anyone, and I want my wife to be someone that you approve of, and someone that you can get along with. I want your approval before I do this."
All three of them looked thoughtful, although Edmund also looked a little uncomfortable. It was obvious that despite the number of suitors he'd helped Peter chase away from their sisters, he had never really thought about he and Peter getting married, and being asked to give an opinion about the person his brother wanted to marry was unnerving.
"I think she's a perfect choice for you, Peter," Lucy said after a moment. "I liked her a lot when I met her. She's the same age as you, she's high enough in rank that choosing her won't offend the other noble women too much – other than the fact that you're not choosing them, that is – and she understands the responsibilities of being royalty."
Susan nodded in agreement. "I agree with everything Lucy said, as well as everything you said about why you love her. I don't foresee us having any difficulty in working with her – although we will have to decide what her level of authority is going to be. I don't think that was something that Aslan or our tutors ever mentioned."
Peter nodded. "I thought of that, Su," he assured her. "I was planning on getting your opinions tonight, spending tomorrow in the library looking for any idea of what the law has to say on the subject, and then once I have some idea, leaving for Anvard long enough to talk to Lune and Krisalyn. Two weeks or so, if you include traveling. The four of us will need to sit down and determine how the succession will apply to our spouses and any future children we have if it's not already in the law, but that's for later."
They turned to Edmund, waiting for his opinion. He still looked uncomfortable, but his words and tone were sincere when he spoke. "I liked her as well, Peter…but if she makes you happy, that's enough for me. You do so much for all of us and for Narnia – if she's the one that you feel is right, then I am not going to argue, because I trust your judgment."
"Of course I remember that day, Lu. How could I forget?" Peter asked.
"I didn't say anything at the time Peter, but when you talked about your reasoning for wanting to marry her, even though you were being logical and explaining it all to us very seriously, I could see the fire in your eyes every time you spoke about her and why you loved her. I knew then that Krisalyn was the one that was the best possible choice for you, and you found her long before any of us realized you were looking for her."
The Valiant Queen reached over and wrapped her arms around her oldest brother. "Peter…you've never lost your faith, or done anything that could make anyone turn away from you, because you embody the faith in Aslan that makes Narnia his most beloved country. All of us are Narnia in our own way – and while I've heard most people say that you are Narnia's champion and her sword, I don't think that's all of it. The sword is just one part of who you are, and it's a part that we only see in times of danger, on the battlefield, when she's in danger. But the part of Narnia that you always are is her faith. You remind us why we trust Aslan, and you restore the wavering doubts that people might have, just by being yourself."
Peter felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. "Lu…inside the circle, I questioned Aslan…I wondered why he hadn't come, why he had abandoned us. I wanted proof that he was coming, that he could help us restore Narnia. All the battles we fought before – I never felt the same dread over the outcome that I am feeling now with the approaching battle with the Telmarines."
"Aslan never asked you for blind faith," Lucy chided him. "All he asked was that you trust him, and you've always done that. It's all right to ask questions, to wonder, to want proof. Faith isn't static, and it isn't blind. You taught me that." She fell silent as she let Peter digest that. "Have you ever considered, Peter, that maybe this time he wants us to prove ourselves to him?"
Peter blinked at her. That thought had honestly never occurred to him. And the answer came to him. "That is what he wants from us," he realized, speaking the words softly. "He wants proof of our devotion. Things can't always stay the same, and the things that have happened have all been part of his plan, even though I don't like it."
Lucy smiled. "See? If you had truly lost faith, you would never have understood that. But you do understand, and that's a good thing." She rose to her feet. "I need to get back to the Council. I would suggest that you go find Caspian and work out your issues with him, and then bring him with you when you come to join us." She shook her head when he started to protest. "Peter, like it or not, Caspian does have insights into the enemy that we face. We need him. We don't need your input right now. Between Edmund, Glenstorm, and Oreius, everything is proceeding nicely. Go and sort out your differences with Caspian, then come and join us."
She bent over and kissed his cheek, before straightening and heading out of the chamber.
Peter sat there for several more seconds, before he rose to his feet. He started to reach for the Witch's wand to take it to a more secure location, but he paused. Turning around, he approached the relief of Aslan and knelt on the stone floor, bowing his head. He wished again that he had Rhindon to draw, but his borrowed sword would work just as well. Drawing it from it's sheath, he placed it tip down against the ground.
"Aslan," he began before trailing off. How do I say this? He needed to say something, if only to appease his own aching heart, but the words didn't seem to want to come. Finally, he settled for bowing his head and letting his heart speak for him.
Silently, he poured out all the feelings that had been plaguing him since he stepped back through the wardrobe without his wife and child. He apologized for not understanding that the Lion was always with him, and that silence didn't mean abandonment. He thanked Aslan for sending his incredibly wise sister to help talk him through what he was feeling and helping him to realize how stupid he'd been. He offered thanks that he was getting the chance for what he had longed for – to apologize and reunite with his wife, and to meet and get to know his daughter. Finally, he asked for strength to bring Narnia through this trial, if that was Aslan's will.
It was a silent torrent of emotion, with no real words in speech or thought. He offered his heart to Aslan, just as he had on the battlefield at Beruna all those years ago, allowing those wise eyes to judge him and determine if he was worthy of the honor and responsibility that he had been given.
A calm serenity filled him as he finished, and once again he realized that Aslan was still with him, that he had been forgiven, and felt that quiet hope that had been part of his life every day since they first entered Narnia. And he knew what they needed to do.
