Author's Note: *creeps out of hiding, ready to dodge rotten vegetables* Oh my, word…I am so very sorry this chapter has taken so long to write. I honestly did not realize that it had been a year since I last posted, but my real life has become so hectic, I have had almost no time to write in any of my fandoms. I can only beg for your forgiveness and try to promise that this won't happen again! I'm thinking there will only be a few more chapters (maybe 5?) left on this story, but it really depends on where my muse goes with it.
On a happier note, thanks to: Quathis, lovely149, Elizabeth Zara, Beloved Daughter, and Willow Dryad for the reviews for the last chapter. Hopefully I didn't lose any of you!
Chapter Thirty-Three: Tears and Tasks
Edmund didn't know what he had been expecting when he woke to the sound of his brother screaming, but it had not been to end up on the floor of the How in an undignified heap, with Caspian, Cor, and Corin on top of him, and his brother sprinting down the corridor as fast as he could. Somehow he was tangled up with the other royals, with Cor's head resting on his chest; Corin sprawled across his legs; and Caspian lying on top of both twins. Their swords were lying on the ground all around them, and it was a miracle that no one had been injured by the sharp blades when they'd gone down in a pile.
"Aslan's Mane," Cor groaned as he reached up to rub his head. "What just happened?"
"I don't know, but I do know that I can't move," Corin responded. He shifted, unintentionally crushing Edmund deeper into the floor. "Your Highness – Caspian – can you please move?"
Caspian slowly levered himself off of the rest of them, shaking his head as he sat up. Once he was upright, the other three were able to sit up as well. "Was that King Peter?" the Telmarine asked. "What was he running from?"
"Edmund?" Krisalyn was standing in the doorway, holding the curtain aside. "Are you alright?" Lucy, Aislynn, and Susan were right behind the elder Queen, all of them looking sleep-mussed and as confused as Edmund felt.
Edmund nodded. "Yes. We heard Peter's scream and –" He suddenly scrambled to his feet. "Peter! He ran out of here!"
Krisalyn nodded. "He had a nightmare, and he thought I was attacking him when I tried to calm him down." She looked repentant. "I'm sorry I doubted your knowledge of him. I've never seen him like that before. Even when the two of you have come back from a campaign…he's never had a nightmare like that."
"We need to find him," Edmund said. "He shouldn't be alone. He'll have gone somewhere quiet to think."
"Even as busy as the How is, there are a lot of corners and side tunnels where he could have privacy," Caspian commented. "The How is enormous, and if he went outside, he could be anywhere."
Edmund shook his head. "He wouldn't have gone outside without taking Rhindon with him, and I didn't see it in his hand when he crashed into us. He wasn't thinking clearly, but Peter never goes anywhere without Rhindon. It's a habit and an instinct."
"Rhindon is right here." Krisalyn held the gleaming sword by the hilt, carefully, since the blade was unsheathed. "But he was truly panicked Edmund. I don't think he would have even considered taking Rhindon with him, since he nearly killed me with it."
"Then it's even more important that we find him as soon as possible," Edmund said firmly, although a part of his mind filed away the fact that Peter had nearly killed Krisalyn. If his brother had been that unaware of his surroundings and his actions to nearly kill his beloved wife... "The last thing that Peter needs tonight is to be alone with his thoughts, but I do not want him wandering around the camp unarmed."
"Edmund, Peter is in no danger," Lucy said, despite the fact that her eyes were still heavy with sleep. "Aslan is here. He wouldn't let any harm befall Peter."
The Valiant Queen's words held the ring of conviction and truth, and Edmund felt some of his panic ebb. He was so used to looking after Peter after a battle…it was second-nature to worry about his brother now. Oddly enough, Edmund had never found his sleep troubled by nightmares of battle. Perhaps it was because, no matter how horrible a battle might be, it couldn't compare to the nightmarish time that he had spent as a prisoner of the White Witch, before Aslan had sacrificed himself. But whatever the reason, when he dreamed, it was never of the battles he had fought or the friends he had seen die. Always, always, she was the one who haunted his nights – but fortunately, those dreams were rare now. Although in age almost no time had passed since those days, Edmund's mindset was different than it had been when they had first entered Narnia. He had lived an entire lifetime since then, and time – or the perception of time, anyway – had dulled the memories.
Ironically enough, the same had never held true for Peter. Narnia's High King had always been forced to relive the battles in his nightmares. Although he rarely confided in Edmund as to the exact details of those horrendous dreams, the way Peter's face would be white for hours after waking up from one, the way he would shake when Edmund would hold him, and the dullness of the blue eyes as he thought through things had all been enough to tell Edmund exactly what types of horrors his brother would live in his dreams. Edmund was fairly confident that it had to do with Peter's role as a protector and father-figure to the rest of them, but other than simply being there for Peter if he wanted to talk, Edmund had never been able to figure out how to help Peter overcome his night terrors.
Taking a deep breath, Edmund nodded. "All right. Let's split up and find Peter. He'll be looking for some place that's secluded and quiet more than likely. If you find him, try to convince him to come back, but if he won't return, send word with one of the Narnians and I'll come."
The rest of the monarchs nodded and headed off in different directions. Aslan's How was vast, and there were many small side tunnels that would need to be searched for the missing High King.
Krisalyn paused long enough to retrieve Rhindon's sheath and put the blade away before she left the chambers in search of her husband. While she had never seen him so distraught before, save for the time when they had lost their first child, she knew enough about him that she felt she could puzzle out where Peter had gone. He had always preferred the outdoors when he needed time and space to think, often spending hours wandering the gardens of Cair Paravel or working out his frustrations against the pells in the training yards. Odds were, although the How had no gardens, that Peter would be somewhere outside. After the battle she doubted that Peter would be doing any kind of weapons practice, and she didn't think he would have wandered over to the Telmarine encampment. Most likely, he would be up on one of the exterior levels of the How. She would look there first.
Taking hold of Rhindon, she hurried out into the corridors, winding her way through them until she reached the ramp that led to the upper levels. She would check each level thoroughly before she moved on. The exterior of the How was roughly circular, and each level was smaller than the ones below it, so it wouldn't take long to clear each level.
The first two levels were empty except for the sentries and none of them had seen Peter that night. But when she moved up to the third level, she spotted him right away, sitting on a small boulder looking out over the ravaged landscape and the small fires that had been lit so that the wounded and dead could be tended to.
"Peter?" she said quietly.
Her husband looked over his shoulder at her, but didn't say anything before he turned his attention back to the landscape. She moved over and knelt down beside him, resting Rhindon on the ground beside her as she placed her hand on his knee. "What troubles you, my lord?" she breathed.
"How can you ask me that?"
The anguish in his voice struck her sharply. Never had she heard such raw despair in his voice before. This was not the confident warrior, tactician, and commander who had led an army to victorious battle that day. He was not the wise, skilled negotiator who had ruled his people justly and well for fifteen years, and he was not Aslan's Chosen High King, entrusted with the well-being of Narnia and granted authority over all of Narnia's rulers, past, present, and future. This was a young man, traumatized by the things that he had seen that day, forced to carry a heavy burden on his shoulders.
"How can I not ask you what's wrong, when I see the man I love so distraught?" Krisalyn countered calmly.
"Kris, I almost killed you!" Peter snapped, the horror and pain of what had almost happened coloring his voice, as he jumped to his feet.
"But you didn't," Krisalyn soothed. "Peter, you realized what was happening and you stopped yourself. I don't blame you for that, and I never will. I should have been more careful about approaching you. I was trying to keep you from waking everyone else up, and I acted too rashly and didn't consider my actions and how they would appear to you." She paused for a moment, wondering if she should broach the subject of his nightmares. "I've never seen you like that before. What troubled you so much?"
Peter stared at her, his blue eyes troubled and tormented, seeming to swirl with all the emotions that she suspected he couldn't express. No doubt it was in an effort to protect her, but she had never tolerated that from him before, and she would not allow him to wallow in misery and anguish now. She clasped his hand – cold from the chill of the night air – in hers and pulled him down to the ground beside her, where she wrapped him in a warm embrace and pulled his head to rest on her shoulder. "Talk to me, beloved. I cannot help you if you won't tell me what's wrong."
"Everything…the bloodshed, the war…"
"Peter, one battle doesn't make a war. You and Edmund, Susan, and Lucy prevented a war. The four of you have set Narnia free again, just as you did from the Witch," Krisalyn pointed out. "Death and bloodshed…those things couldn't be stopped. Narnia was oppressed by people who didn't understand or take the time to learn. If the Telmarines had come to Narnia in friendship and not invasion, I would have welcomed them – but they looked at our people and saw uncivilized monsters."
"I put Lucy and Aislynn in danger, and Aislynn got hurt."
"They volunteered to go, Peter. Both of them knew the risks and were willing to take them. And Aislynn wasn't hurt that badly. Yes, she was scarred, but that was a mild price to pay. She could have been hurt much worse, or even killed. But she survived, and Aslan protected her."
Peter lifted his head and stared at her, his eyes showing his doubt and the emotions he was wrestling with. Krisalyn stroked his hair back from his eyes with her hand as she continued. "Peter, you did everything that you could have done, and you succeeded. I know Aslan is proud of you for what you accomplished today. I don't know what horrors your mind delivered to you tonight, but I would have you share them with me so that you can set your mind at ease and get some rest."
"I would not wish to pass them on to you, Kris. Despite everything that we've been through, you're still good and innocent in a way that I will never be. You've never been forced to take a life, to see the life ebb from the eyes of the one you've killed. You've never been coated in the blood of the people who've died on your blade."
Krisalyn sighed in exasperation at her husband's stubbornness. "Peter, I told you long ago that I would not tolerate you trying to shelter me. I may not have killed someone, but that doesn't mean that I am not strong enough to understand the things that torment you. I ruled Narnia for nearly five years after you disappeared. I've seen many things in that time that I will not speak of now, and I was trained to make difficult decisions. My strength can be yours if you take it."
Peter shook his head and pulled away from her hold. "Kris, I cannot taint you that way. I don't know how you can even be around me after I almost killed you tonight."
"Because I love you, Peter. You weren't aware of what you were doing, and you stopped yourself in time. I've made as many mistakes in this relationship as you have, more in fact, yet you never stopped loving me, even when my bitterness threatened to consume me."
"And that is the nature of being human, dear ones," a rumbling voice said from behind them. They both turned to see Aslan standing in the entrance to the How, watching them with his great golden eyes.
"Aslan!" Peter started to scramble into a position where he could drop to his knees before the Great Lion, but Aslan shook his mane and stepped closer to them.
"Do not bow to me, High King," the Lion commanded gently. "Accept your wife's comfort, for that is what you need most right now." Peter hesitated, his need to show his respect for Aslan warring with the Lion's command in his mind, before he relaxed back into Krisalyn's arms and allowed her to wrap him in the cloak around her shoulders.
"You speak with great wisdom, my Steadfast daughter. Both of you have erred in your relationship, but you are both mature and wise. Together, your strength is greater than when you act alone. You are joined by a bond of love, and though that bond may strain and stretch, it will not break unless you allow it to. High King, you have always been a warrior, and it is your compassion for your people that brings you this grief, as well as your strong bond with Narnia herself. Daughter of Eve, your pain came from what you viewed as a betrayal and a broken oath, but you have risen above that pain and it has made you stronger for it."
Aslan considered both of them with his great golden eyes. "You would be wise to accept and lean on the strength of your lover, High King. She has earned her wisdom and strength through fierce emotional battles, and while she may never be the warrior that you have so often proved to be, her heart and her soul are as strong as Rhindon's steel. The source of your pain does not matter. What matters is that you are willing to share it with another, especially if the other is willing to shoulder the burden alongside you. Speaking of your fears and the horrors that haunt your dreams will not taint the Queen, for her strength is enough to banish them. Difficult decisions lay ahead of you, and you must be ready to face and weather them together."
Before either of them could react to that proclamation, Aslan turned and vanished back into the How, leaving the two of them alone on the ledge, Peter still wrapped in Krisalyn's cloak and arms. Part of her still ached at the knowledge of how different they had become. Likely, this was the most intimate that they would ever be again.
But, she found that she was slowly coming to accept that. She still loved Peter with every fiber of her being, but love didn't necessarily require physical intimacy. If this and the occasional kiss were as far as they could take the relationship from this moment on, it could only serve to strengthen their bond even more. The change would simply necessitate that they be more open to each other with their words and feelings. There had been times in the past when she had felt that Peter would keep some of the things he was feeling from her, whether to protect her, or simply because he was so conscientious of his responsibilities as the High King, but she had never pressed him on them. Perhaps that failing had been the reason why his apparent abandonment had cut her so deeply. Perhaps, despite their love and the friendship it was built upon, they hadn't had a relationship that was as close as it could – should – have been.
Whether that was true or if it was simply her perception of their relationship in the past, they both needed to go forward from this point and not allow the same mistakes to cloud their relationship in the future, especially since she didn't know how much time they had left. By all rights, it was Aislynn's time to rule. It was true that while the experience and reputation that Peter and his siblings had would be invaluable in helping to forge a peace between the Narnians and Telmarines, the time of the Four Monarchs had passed. The Narnia they knew and loved was all but gone, and Krisalyn was certain that a new ruler was needed for the new society that would rise from the ashes of this battle. But that was not in her hands, nor was it her decision. She still, technically, held the reins of power as her husband's regent, but she was more than willing to pass them on to Aislynn, as she had pledged twenty-five years ago.
"Peter…" Krisalyn began before she paused. How did she even go about persuading him to share his nightmares with her? Peter had always seen her in a certain light, as his comment about her being good and innocent compared to him had shown. He had always acknowledged her strengths and her weaknesses equally, but he hadn't been there for many of the difficult choices she'd had to make during his absence. As his Queen, she'd had very little to do with the running of the Kingdom – Peter and his siblings had handled all of it with a flair and an ease that came from being equal in power and status. In many ways, her royal training had been worthless while she stood at his side. Although she'd been able to teach him some things because they had assumed the rule of Narnia and learned by experience whereas that she had learned from being born to rule, she'd had very little to do with the important decision-making before he left. It was with that knowledge and memory that he was seeing her now.
"Edmund mentioned that you often have these nightmares after a battle and need to be alone," she began. When he nodded slowly, she thought carefully, trying to word her racing thoughts in a way that would cut to the heart of the problem. "Are you reliving the battle, or are your dark thoughts causing you to see things that didn't really happen?" He started in surprise, pulling back from her, and she knew that she had pierced through to the heart of his nightmares. "You see what could have happened, what you feared would happen, don't you?"
He nodded, slowly. "Usually…people whom I love die."
This was something that she could work with. "Peter, only a few days after you left on the hunt, I had a horrible dream." She sensed his interest, although he didn't speak. "I was back on the day you left, and I bid you goodbye, but just after you left I noticed dark clouds on the horizon. Something about those clouds unnerved me, and I rode after you, screaming for you to come back. When I finally caught up to you, you acted very dismissive of my fears, and you told me that you were going home, that Narnia had no further need of you." Just the memory of that dream, which had frequently haunted her nightmares after she had realized that Peter wasn't coming back, was enough to make her shiver.
Peter swiftly embraced her. "I would never say anything like that, Krisalyn."
"In my dream you did. I know it was a nightmare, because I love you and I know you, but it frightened me and it has haunted me for years," Krisalyn admitted. "I also used to dream that a decision I made would lead to the Telmarines learning that Aislynn and I still lived and them hunting us down to break the royal bloodline and give them control of Narnia forever." She relaxed into his embrace for a moment, feeling the strength of his arms and the comfort of his love, before she pulled back. "What falsehoods did you see this night?"
Peter was quiet for a long moment. "I was back on the battlefield, after the duel. Cor and Corin had just made their charge, but the Telmarines didn't back down or flee. As I watched, Cor was pulled from his horse and killed, and when Corin tried to get to him, he was killed as well. Then I watched Caspian die, and I watched Susan being dragged away by two of the Telmarines, and Edmund and Lucy were nowhere to be seen…" Peter hung his head. "I just…I just knew, that it was my fault. That my plan hadn't been good enough, that I hadn't been strong or fast enough to save them, that Narnia had fallen…"
Krisalyn had to struggle not to react to the images as he spoke. To be strong for him meant sympathizing with him, but not giving into the pictures that his words evoked in her mind, even though what he described caused her horror as well. How to convince him that it was only a nightmare, and it had not and would not come to pass? She shifted slightly and her foot bumped against Rhindon's sheath. An idea struck her and she reached down for the blade, drawing it carefully out of the sheath before she pressed the hilt into Peter's hand. "Peter, what does this blade mean to you?"
Peter looked up at her, puzzled for a moment, before he turned his gaze to study the blade that had been his since his second day in Narnia. "I…I guess strength in battle, the power of a fighter who can wield it properly." He studied the shining steel and the gold pommel shaped like Aslan's head. "Aslan's blessings and the confidence that He has in me."
"Exactly. Aslan's blessings have always driven you through life, Peter, even when you didn't know it. He's always been there for you, and he saw to it that you received this blade, knowing that you would use it to ensure Narnia's freedom and safety." Krisalyn clamped her hand around Peter's on the hilt. "Peter, you have never lost a battle when you held Rhindon. This sword is a reflection of your strength, your ability, and your power. This blade has shed blood, but it has been the blood of those that would have harmed Narnia or her people. Mourn for their deaths if you must, but don't ever regret what you had to do to fulfill your responsibilities to Narnia. If Aslan didn't believe in you, He never would have named you High King or accepted your oath to him."
Peter blinked as she mentioned the oath, and Krisalyn smiled. "I know about your oath, Peter. You forget that I was raised to believe in Aslan, and I know what our love for Him can compel us to do. I don't know the details of what you swore, and I don't care. It is between you and Him. But this blade, no matter what lives it has ended or what injury it has caused, will always symbolize the things that you must do, whether you fight for Narnia's safety, or whether it remains sheathed during times of peace. The weight of the blade will always remind you of the weight of your responsibility."
She released his hand and laid her hand against his cheek. "Don't carry the weight of 'what ifs' or 'might have beens', Peter. Don't let your fears drive you from a peaceful night's sleep. Rejoice in the fact that you saved Narnia today, and that everyone you love made it through relatively unscathed. Yes, there was loss and injury, but you and your siblings will stand before Narnia's people and honor their bravery and their sacrifice, and they will forever be remembered in Narnia's history as having been willing to give everything, even their lives, to preserving our home. If you, Susan, Edmund, or Lucy had fallen, you would receive the same honor."
Peter closed his eyes and relaxed fully into her touch. He didn't move for the longest time, until Krisalyn felt moisture on her palm and realized that Peter was weeping, softly. She embraced him again, and allowed him to cry, rocking him gently as he released all of the fear and emotion that he had bottled up inside of himself in order to get through the battle and the duel. They were not violent tears, but quiet ones, and she knew he was taking her advice. He was weeping for the lives that had been lost that day, for the destruction wrought on the country he loved so deeply, and out of pure relief that everyone he loved had survived and would greet the morning with him. Krisalyn simply held him and allowed him to cry, even as his tears soaked her dress. It didn't matter. What mattered was that at this moment, Peter was allowing himself to be weak and letting her be strong for him. When this cathartic outpouring had ceased, he would be able to sleep in peace for the rest of the night, and would wake strong and refreshed, ready to do what was necessary to ensure a peaceful transition back to Narnian rule.
She didn't comment, nor try to shush his tears, but just held him and watched as dawn began to creep over the eastern horizon. The sky slowly lightened, turning from black and star-spangled to the warm purples and gold as the Sun began to make his first appearance, rising from Aslan's Country to bring his light to Narnia once again. Today would be a day of renewal, rather than bloodshed. Today peace would reign over Narnia for the first time in twenty-one years.
Slowly, she became aware that Peter had stopped his weeping and was now only resting beside her, exhausted from the outpouring of emotion in the night. She was tempted to simply let him rest against her, but given how hard he had fought the previous day, it would not be good for his health. So she quietly nudged him until he was sitting upright beside her again. His hand was still clenched around Rhindon's hilt, the sheath still resting at her feet.
"Come, my lord. Let us see you back to your proper rest and reassure King Edmund that you are well again," Krisalyn said lightly, falling back on the more formal language that they often used when they were alone, as she carefully pried the sword from his hand and slid it back into its proper place.
"Lion's Mane, Ed is going to be frantic," Peter murmured. "He's always been so good about caring for me after battles. He and I need to have a long talk when we can find a moment to spare today."
"That will be for later," Krisalyn said firmly. "Now you need rest. It would not do for Narnia's High King to fall asleep when he rides to reclaim his castle and reestablish his rule." She rose to her feet, feeling the aches in her bones from a night spent outside. The shoulder and arm of her gown was soaked from Peter's tears, but she ignored the chill on her skin as the gentle morning breeze brushed past her. As she turned to go inside, she paused and looked back at the early dawn. She directed Peter's gaze to the horizon. "There is a reason that the sun rises in the East, from Aslan's Country, Peter. With each dawn, a new day is born, and hope will always ride on the wings of the Sun. There cannot be hope without the light, for hope is the light's truest companion. Think of that when the shadows of night torment you, and remember that even in the horror of the battles, hope cannot be extinguished forever. It was a flame of hope that kept me from giving in completely to my grief over your disappearance. We cannot bring those who were lost back, but we will stand together and remember them, and their light will forever live on. Take joy in the fact that they have found peace in Aslan's Country."
Peter leaned up and swiftly kissed her cheek before he gazed at her with his blue eyes filled with admiration. "When did you become so wise, my lady-Queen?"
"I always was wise," she teased him back, grateful that her hunch was right and he seemed able to put his nightmares behind him. "You just didn't see it, High King."
Peter laughed softly, before he took her hand and they walked hand in hand back inside the How. The frantic activity of the day before, and the aftermath of the battle had ceased and the corridors were quiet as all of those who could be spared took time for some rest. Although there would be no battle this day if they were fortunate, there was still much that had to be done before they could march on Cair Paravel. Krisalyn felt a sudden stab of longing as she recalled the palace that she had made her home for over a decade. While she had not lived there as long as she had lived at Anvard, Cair Paravel had become home to her as much as Anvard or her parents' estate in the north of Archenland had been.
She wondered if Aislynn would remember it once they stepped inside. Until learning that she was Narnia's princess, Krisalyn had told her that she had always lived in Anvard, even when Aislynn had spoken of dreams where she stood on a balcony looking out at the sea. How much had the Telmarines changed in twenty-five years? She didn't think that they could have changed much of the structure of the palace, but the furnishings, tapestries, and treasures had no doubt been changed, repurposed, or looted. She wondered if the treasure room where she had hidden the four monarchs' belongings and the things she could not take with her when they fled had been found, or if their things had survived the two decades undisturbed.
Lucy and Susan were waiting at the entrance to the ladies' chamber when Krisalyn and Peter returned, and both Queens rushed forward to hug their brother. He embraced each of them warmly. Krisalyn stayed back, allowing her husband and in-laws a moment of closeness.
Peter held each of his sisters closely for a moment, knowing that he had frightened and worried them. His problem with battle-nightmares had never impacted on them before, and he had always tried to be the strong one for the rest of his family.
"Peter, I trust you will look after the others while I'm away," William said as he finished putting together his knapsack. He would be leaving the next morning to serve as a medic on the war front, and he had called Peter into his bedroom to speak to him.
Peter nodded. "I will, Father. You have my word."
William smiled at his eldest son. Peter had always been a studious, thoughtful boy. He had always played protector for his siblings and he treasured them closely. They loved him as much as he loved them, so William had no doubt that Peter would handle them well. "You'll be the head of the household, Peter. Listen to and help your Mum, yes?"
"Yes, sir."
William hesitated as he tied the flap of his knapsack shut. "Peter, sit with me for a moment. I need to talk to you about something, man-to-man." He sat down on the edge of the bed and waited while Peter joined him. "The war is going to drag on for a while. I know they're already talking about a quick victory in the press, but the Germans have gained a great deal of territory in a relatively short time. Reclaiming all that land will not be easy, and the Germans have had time to mobilize and train. I might not be home for several years. You might very well be a grown man by the time I return."
Peter nodded solemnly. "I understand."
William shook his head. "I'm not talking about taking care of your siblings anymore, Peter. This is about you. Your mum and I have tried to raise you to be a good man, and I trust that we've given you a sense of right and wrong and a need to protect your family. That's not what I'm concerned about. You're entering a time of your life when you'll start feeling things, and those feelings may cause you to act in unusual ways." William looked closely at his blonde son, who looked so much like him. "Many of those feelings will revolve around women, because you're going to be entering a point in your life when you'll want to start thinking about finding a wife."
Peter looked surprised as if the thought hadn't even occurred to him. "I hadn't thought I would even start looking until after University."
"And that's a good thing," William assured him. "But you may feel other things, especially if you see a pretty girl, and I want you to remember that no matter what your mind or body may want you to do, you should always treat a lady with respect. It doesn't matter if it's Susan, or Lucy, or your Mum, or if it's a stranger on the street. You're a man, it's your duty and honor to respect women and protect them. Understood?"
Peter nodded solemnly. "I promise, Father."
William smiled and cuffed him lightly on the side of the head. "Good man."
And so Peter had. He'd followed his father's advice and always treated the women he met with courtesy and honor. Even after becoming the High King, if they threw themselves at him to try to get him to marry them, he always treated them politely. He and his father had talked for a long time that afternoon, and William had explained things to him that, in many ways had absolutely come true. Not knowing how long he'd be gone, William had suggested that Peter also spend time with Edmund, so that when Edmund reached Peter's age, Peter might be able to help guide him through the same things. And so Peter had. In Narnia, the first time, he and Edmund had both grown up, in more ways than one. Now Peter could understand, with the clarity of having lived as an adult, what his father had been speaking of that day. He understood what it was like to be intimate with a woman, to be driven by his body's passions. It had, in fact, been Peter who had given the same talk to Edmund that William had given to Peter, amid much laughter and embarrassment on both their parts. He didn't know how he and Edmund would explain that to William when Edmund again reached the age where their father would feel the need to discuss this with his younger son.
Forcing the thoughts aside, he focused on Lucy and Susan again, squeezing Lucy a little bit tighter for a moment.
"Edmund, Aislynn, Caspian and the twins are still searching the How for you," Lucy said. "You frightened us, Peter." His little sister had her fact buried in the fabric of his tunic, trying to draw comfort from him to calm the fear his emotional reaction had given them.
Peter dropped a kiss on her head. "I'm sorry, Lu. Really."
Susan eyed him closely. "Are you alright now, Peter?"
Peter nodded. "I think so." He looked at his sisters and then at his wife, who was standing back a ways to give them some degree of privacy. "It's nearly dawn. I'm sorry about depriving all of you of sleep after the day we had yesterday, but we should consider making plans for today. If we intend to march on Cair Paravel, we'll need to deal with the Telmarines and there will be a great deal of organization to attend to if we want to avoid further bloodshed."
"There's still time for you to get another hour or so of sleep, Peter," Krisalyn suggested as she stepped a little closer. "Your sleep last night was not what I would have called restful."
Peter shook his head. "I'm wide awake now, and there is a lot to do today. I slept enough, even if it wasn't restful." He shot a smile at his wife. "Besides, I'm looking forward to sleeping in a real bed tonight once we get to Cair Paravel."
Krisalyn was about to respond, but a call from further down the hallway drowned out her words as Edmund, Aislynn, and the other three royals rushed down the corridor. "Peter!"
Peter quickly embraced his brother and his daughter, and nodded to Caspian, Cor, and Corin. "I'm alright, Ed. I just needed time to think. Krisalyn and Aslan helped me through my nightmares. I'm sorry I worried you." He looked at the Archenland royals and the Telmarine prince. "I'm grateful for your concern. You all fought hard yesterday and I'm sorry I woke you."
Cor waved off the apology. "After what we saw and experienced yesterday, I would say you were entitled to some night terrors, High King."
The others nodded in agreement and Peter only nodded. It was nice to have such loyal, understanding friends. He knew all to well that if this had happened at school, his dorm mates would not have been as understanding about being woken up. But here…they were all warriors, and they all understood the mental turmoil that battles brought.
Peter sighed. "It's nearly dawn, and we have many things that we need to take care of before we prepare to march to Cair Paravel."
"You have a plan in mind, Pete?" Edmund asked.
"First we need to finish any details from the battle," Peter said. "I'm sure the healers have taken care of the wounded, but we'll need to make the rounds of the armies and assist where we're needed. After that, I'd like to hold a formal audience with what is left of the Telmarine leadership."
Caspian frowned. "Why?"
"We need to assure them that we intend to hold to the pledge that you made to them yesterday," Peter replied.
"They surrendered to us," Caspian said, puzzled. "Why do we need to take the time to reassure them? Shouldn't our first priority be to retake the castle?"
"They're your people, Caspian," Susan said.
"If you want to prevent another uprising in the future, you need to win them to your side. As long as we're here, we're in control of what happens to them, because we're still legally Narnia's rulers," Edmund added. "Under Narnia's law, you didn't have the authority to promise what you did, so it falls on us to assure them that we intend to hold to your word. If we can convince them of that, it will go a long way towards winning their allegiance. You already have the allegiance of the Narnians, but the only way to truly bring peace back to Narnia is to win your people to your side so that you can start overcoming two decades of mistrust and prejudice."
"You can command obedience, but you'll never be able to command their respect," Lucy inserted. "You have to earn their respect. The pledge you made to them was a step in the right direction, and when we show that we'll uphold it, it will give your people a sense that they can trust you. From there, it will be up to you to maintain that trust and earn that respect, until you have them firmly on your side."
Caspian looked thoughtful. Peter glanced around. "Why don't we all get freshened up to start the day? We have a great many things to take care of."
Cor and Corin took the hint and ducked back into the room they were sharing with Caspian, Edmund, and Peter. Lucy, Susan, and Krisalyn did the same. Aislynn paused long enough to embrace Peter again. "I'm glad that you're alright, Father," she said softly.
Peter smiled and held her closely. The awkwardness of being younger than his grown-daughter had faded and although most people probably wouldn't understand, even if they knew the whole story, Peter didn't particularly care. He was still struck by the fact that this beautiful, brave, young woman was his daughter, and he had missed seeing her grow up. The only thing that he had contributed to her upbringing was his DNA. He couldn't take any credit for what she had become, and that caused him a stab of pain. "I'm grateful that you weren't hurt either, Aislynn," he said, gently tracing the thin white scar that ran down the right side of her face with his thumb.
She smiled and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm fine. Is there anything that I can do to assist?"
Peter nodded. "I want you to accompany me while we walk among the army today. Just like Caspian, you'll need to earn their respect. As their Princess, the more time you spend with them, the more reason they'll have to respect you. You've done a wonderful job leading up to the battle yesterday, but tending to them in the aftermath is just as important for convincing them that you care about them."
Aislynn nodded. "All right." She slipped out of his hold and ducked into the room with the other women, as Peter turned to join his brother and the other royals. As he entered, Edmund tossed a clean shirt and tunic at him. Peter caught the items, and glanced at his brother with a raised eyebrow.
"From Cor," Edmund said, as he secured the fastenings on his own new tunic, this one in a deep burgundy. He was also wearing a new shirt, this one a pale ivory, rather than the dark blue linen one that he'd been wearing since their arrival at the How four days ago. One of his swords was already belted around his waist, and the other was lying sheathed on top of his pallet.
Peter glanced at the other King and nodded. "Thank you." He was tired of wearing the same clothing for the past few days as well. It was only the fact that they had access to a cold water spring and the ability to wash their shirts each night and allow them to dry overnight had kept him from going crazy. One of the things that Peter had been fanatical about was always looking properly groomed when appearing in public. The hours immediately after a battle were different, but if he was going to hold formal audience with the Telmarine leadership later, being clean and neatly groomed would go a long way to making the right kind of impression on the nobles that had survived the battle.
Cor grinned. "You'll need to make a good impression on the Telmarines, so anything I can do to help ensure that we won't have to go through this again, is beneficial in my book." His tone was light and teasing as he knew very well that even without clean clothing Peter could give off an intimidating enough aura that what he was wearing wouldn't matter. Peter knew exactly how to use the power and authority that Aslan had granted him. It didn't matter if he was sixteen or sixty. Peter was a King, through and through. It didn't matter that Peter had had to learn the rules of diplomacy, and learn how to wield a sword. The power and the ability, the leadership qualities…those were inherent, and part of Peter's very make-up as well as being a sign of Aslan's blessings and love.
Peter swiftly changed into his new clothing before he and the others went out to deal with the tasks of the day. The girls were waiting out in the corridor, Susan and Lucy wearing their crowns and carrying their gifts. Krisalyn was holding Rhindon, freshly cleaned and polished, and Aislynn was holding his crown. He smiled at both of them, took the crown from his daughter and settled it on his head, before he took Rhindon and swiftly belted the blade around his waist.
"What's the plan, Pete?" Edmund asked.
"I'm sure Cor and Corin would like to handle their own troops," Peter paused and glanced at the Archenland royals, who both nodded in understanding and headed off. "Lucy, I'd like it if you and Krisalyn would take a walk among the wounded. Take Trufflehunter with you. If there are any critical cases, you may use your cordial, but remember that it is a finite resource, so use your best judgment." He looked at the elder of his sisters, hating what he was about to ask her, but knowing that she had the experience and the compassion to handle the assignment. "Su, I'd like you and Tumnus to handle the arrangements for the vigil. I'd like to hold it within a day or so of retaking Cair Paravel. Make sure all of the fallen have been accounted for, those from our forces and the Archenlanders, and once we've talked to the Telmarines, I'd like to put the names of their fallen on the list as well."
His siblings and Caspian all looked at him, surprised. "Peter?" his youngest sister asked.
Susan frowned. "Our people won't like that idea. They have no reason to like or trust the Telmarines, and they certainly won't like the idea of showing respect to the people who have been their enemies for twenty years."
"The Telmarine soldiers were only following orders, Su. They believed they were defending Narnia as well," Peter reminded her. "They are not to blame for the fact that they were used by selfish men who didn't care about them. If the Narnians and the Telmarines are ever to live in peace, showing respect to the Telmarine fallen will go a long way towards showing them that the Narnians are not monsters."
Susan considered that for a moment, before she nodded in agreement as she realized where her brother was going with this plan and nodded. "Tumnus and I will take care of it. What about you and Aislynn and Edmund?"
"We'll be going among the non-wounded and doing the same thing as Krisalyn and Lucy are doing. The Narnians need to become accustomed to the idea that she is their Princess and future Queen. Later we'll walk among the wounded as well, but Lucy's cordial will be of help to the most severely wounded, and Kris was working with the wounded yesterday during the battle."
"What about the formal audience with the Telmarines?" Edmund asked.
"I'd like to handle that around mid-morning, if possible," Peter said. "I don't think it will take more than an hour to convince the Telmarines of our intentions. It's only a few hours marching pace from here to Cair Paravel, so if we can leave before mid-day, we should be able to reach the palace in plenty of time to reclaim it." He looked over at Caspian. "Is there anyone among the Telmarines whom you might be able to trust to identify the remaining Telmarine leaders?"
"General Glozelle. I had almost convinced him to help me call off his men yesterday when the Trees came to our aid," Caspian said. "He was my sword master, and he's an honorable man."
"Didn't you say he was the one who led the troops into your room the night you fled?" Edmund asked.
"Yes, but he was following the orders of my uncle. I don't know what hold my uncle had over him, but I do know that during all of my training, the one thing that Glozelle emphasized more than anything was acting with honor and dignity," Caspian insisted.
"Peter, why don't Caspian and I go to the Telmarines and find General Glozelle?" Edmund suggested. "I'll be able to tell if he's come back to the side of honor, and he'd be able to single out what is left of Miraz's Council."
Peter considered his brother's suggestion for a moment. "Very well. It will allow us to hold the audience sooner, if you can identify them. Come and find Aislynn and I once you've identified them, and we'll make arrangements for the audience."
Edmund nodded and he and Caspian split off, heading for the surface and the Telmarine encampment. Peter and the others headed in the opposite direction before they split up to visit their designated groups.
"What exactly are we going to do, Father?" Aislynn asked as they moved through the passages of the How.
"One of the things that Edmund and I were always known for on the battlefield was taking the time to visit with as many of the troops as we could after a battle, unless we were injured," Peter explained. "It gives the Narnians a chance to get to know us as something other than their commanders, and a reason to fight for us besides the fact that we are their Kings. If Aslan wills it, the throne will pass to you, and you need to begin cultivating that relationship with them. Many of them do not even know you are my daughter, and they have no reason to trust you or to believe that you understand what being a ruler is all about. It will be up to you to convince them of that; to win their allegiance in the same way that Caspian must win the allegiance of his people."
"So, I should just talk to them?" Aislynn questioned.
Peter nodded. "Ask them about their families, or about what part of Narnia they lived in before all of this began. If they lost someone in the battle, show them your sympathies, and remind them that the fallen will be honored with a memorial vigil as soon as we have full control of Narnia again. If they ask questions of you, feel free to answer them, unless you consider it to be too personal."
Aislynn laughed slightly, though Peter could detect a bit of bitterness in the sound. "I grew up in Anvard's Court, Father, where there is always intrigue of some type occurring. There is no way that any of the Narnians could ask any questions more personal than one of Cor's nobles – and the nobles never even told me about my true relationship to Cor, Corin, or Narnia, even though they had to know. Mother had them intimidated enough that they didn't dare breathe a word of the truth to me, even out of jealousy or maliciousness."
Together they reached the large chamber where the Narnians had bivouacked, many of whom had already woken and were tending to their morning duties. Aislynn glanced over at her father. "Do you have a plan?"
"We'll start at this end of the chamber and walk through to the other side. We don't have to talk to all of them, but every so often we'll just stop and start a conversation. Likely, others will come to see what's going on, and we'll collect little groups," Peter told her. "Normally, I would have done this last night, after the battle, but given how weary everyone was, it was better to wait until this morning."
Aislynn frowned. "It's just barely dawn. Wouldn't we be better served to wait until later?"
"Not really. This isn't something that has to be done all at once. If you take the time to do it before or after each battle, and make a note to talk to as many different people as you can, you'll win their respect. If you do happen to talk to someone you've met before, try to remember at least something about them. It will show them that you care enough about them to remember them," Peter explained. "Even if we only talk to those who are awake now, word will spread about what you've done. The number of people that you talk to doesn't matter. The fact that you've made the effort does."
Aislynn nodded and they moved among the rows of pallets. Most of the Narnians were just beginning to pull themselves from slumber, but the few who were already awake or had been on duty looked up as Peter and Aislynn approached them. One of the Wolves crouched down in the closest approximation of a bow he could make. "Your Majesty, Lady Aislynn."
"Aslan's blessings upon you, fur-brother," Peter replied seriously. "May I have your name?"
"Tethrel of Greymantle Pack."
"Do you run 'lone?" Peter queried.
The Wolf rose and shook his furred head. "Nay, High King. My pack runs with me. My eldest brother was wounded in the battle, and my mate and my sister are on sentry duty near the Telmarine encampment. My other brothers watched over our wounded member during the night, but I have morning patrol, so they sent me to rest."
"I am sorry to hear that," Peter said. "Was the wound serious?"
"Nay, just a broken leg. But our pack stands together through all things," the Wolf said. "We normally run through the woods surrounding the Rush, but when the call came to fight for Narnia, we answered the call."
"I thank you for your service to Aslan and Narnia, fur-brother," Peter replied solemnly. "You shall soon return to your range." He looked at Aislynn. "Have you worked with Lady Aislynn during this struggle?"
"Not directly, but I did provide some of the intelligence of the Telmarine patrols." Tethrel looked at Aislynn. "It was a brave thing that you did, my lady, by riding for Aslan and sending the Dryads to us."
"I thank you, Greymantle," Aislynn said.
"I understand what it is to have family in the line of fire, Greymantle," Peter said. "Lady Aislynn is my daughter and heir to Narnia's throne."
The Wolf immediately bowed again. "Your Highness."
"Rise, Tethrel," Aislynn said. "I may be Narnia's princess by birth, but that title has not been bestowed upon me by rite and oath yet." As the Wolf rose, Aislynn smiled at him. "I shall try to visit your brother and thank him for his service to Narnia. Without the aid of you and your pack, Narnia might have fallen yesterday. I count you and your kin among the most honored."
"I thank you, Your Highness," the Wolf replied.
"Aslan's peace be on you, Tethrel Greymantle," Peter said with a smile as he took Aislynn's arm and started to lead her away.
"And upon you and your kin, High King," the Wolf replied.
Peter and Aislynn moved on and as soon as they were out of earshot of the keen ears of the Wolf, Peter turned to her. "You did wonderfully, Aislynn. Do you feel up to doing some more?"
Aislynn nodded. "I need to make myself known to the Narnians, not as Cor's agent, but as their princess. Let us proceed." Peter could see the aura of rank and responsibility beginning to settle over his daughter as she shifted her thoughts to that of a princess greeting her people.
Edmund wanted desperately to talk to his brother, but he knew that their duties had to come first. Given the things that Peter had said during the duel about what would happen if one of them died in Narnia, and then the nightmares, Edmund felt that he had reason to be concerned. He was glad to see that his brother and Krisalyn had apparently made up, but he knew they still had a long way to go.
There will be time to talk to Peter later, he reminded himself. His brother wasn't going to be going anywhere, and once Cair Paravel was back in their hands and things had settled down some, he knew Peter would make the time to talk to him.
Caspian was leading them towards the Telmarines' encampment, out in the clearing in front of the How. Cor and Corin had posted several of their men as guards around the camp, and the Narnian healers had gone through the camp and tended to the wounds of the Telmarines. The Telmarine dead had been also been gathered together and would be given the proper funerary rites that day. Edmund had no idea how they would work all of that out. The last thing they needed was for the beautiful clearing to become a graveyard, but transporting the bodies back to their homes was probably equally unlikely. In the past, Narnian dead had always been transported back to their families, but there had usually been few dead among the Narnians because of the brilliant tactical planning before any battle. The last battle they'd had to deal with casualties in this number had been the first Battle at Beruna, against the forces of the White Witch. In that situation, the bodies had been burned – but Edmund didn't want to see that happen again. It would be yet another detail they would need to work out, and soon. If the bodies were not taken care of within the next day or so, it was likely that illness would start to spread.
Caspian paused at the entrance to the encampment and Edmund stopped as well. "Where are the wounded being housed?" the prince asked the guard.
"The large tent at the center of the camp holds the most severely wounded. The healers that are still working there will be able to point you to where they've sent the less seriously wounded and those that have been treated, Your Highness," the guard said promptly. He bowed to Edmund. "Your Majesty."
"Thank you," Edmund said. The guard stepped aside and the two of them entered the camp. Both had swords slung at their hips, but while Caspian was wary, Edmund kept his hands relaxed at his side. Even though they were sorely outnumbered, it would be foolish for the Telmarines to try anything. The first sign of a scuffle would bring the guards running, and all it would take was one whistle for reinforcements to come from the How to defend their Just King. Further, both he and Caspian were skilled fighters and could most likely hold their own long enough to get away or for reinforcements to show up.
They entered the healers' tent together and saw that things had apparently settled down overnight. The most severely wounded were resting comfortably, for the most part. There were a few who were moaning in pain, and the healers were moving from pallet to pallet, changing bandages and offering medicines to dull the pain. A few Narnians were moving among the beds as well, and most of the Telmarines were too sorely injured to realize that they were not being treated by their own people. One of the healers, a Red Dwarf, spotted them and came to their side.
"Your Majesty, Your Highness, how may I assist you?" the Dwarf asked with a short bow.
"We seek one of the Telmarines, General Glozelle," Edmund replied.
"He was injured yesterday by one of the Dryads, and I moved him out of sight so that he would not be further injured in the confusion of the retreat," Caspian added. "He sustained a blow to the head and was knocked unconscious."
The Dwarf healer thought for a moment, before nodding. "I remember him. He sustained a mild concussion. He was not severely wounded enough to keep here, so we treated his lacerations and bruises and sent him to a private tent, although we made regular checks on him throughout the night. He'll recover, but he'll have a mighty headache for a day or so."
"Is he coherent enough for us to have an audience with him?" Edmund asked.
The Dwarf nodded. "Yes, sire. Go out this side of the tent and down two rows, make a right and he'll be in the third tent on the left."
"Thank you," Edmund replied before turning to lead the way out of the tent. Caspian fell into step beside him as they made their way to the tent that had been indicated.
"King Edmund, what exactly do you plan to do?" Caspian asked quietly.
"You claim he is an honorable man," Edmund said, his voice equally low. "I wish to speak with him. If he is as honorable as you say, it should be easy enough to convince him to place his loyalty with you and to help us work for peace in Narnia. If he has the influence that he should as a General, his voice could make a great difference in convincing the rest of the leadership to throw their support behind you, which will get the army on our side and make claiming Cair Paravel that much simpler."
They arrived at the indicated tent and Caspian stepped over to the flap and rustled it. "General Glozelle?"
There was movement from inside the tent before the flap was pushed open and Glozelle stood framed in the opening. He looked out and saw Caspian, and behind him, Edmund, and immediately sank to one knee. "Your Majesty."
"You may rise, General," Edmund said. As Glozelle climbed back to his feet, Edmund studied him closely. "Do you know who I am?"
"You are King Edmund of Narnia," Glozelle replied immediately. "How may I assist you, sire?"
"I would like you to walk with me, General. There is much I wish to discuss with you," Edmund replied. He looked at Caspian. "Would you mind waiting here for us, Caspian? I'd like to speak to the General alone."
Caspian nodded. "Of course, King Edmund."
Edmund started off and Glozelle fell into step with him, but a respectable half-step behind him. They walked for a few minutes before Edmund spoke. "General, I noticed during the duel that Miraz wanted you to use the crossbow you carried to attack my brother, High King Peter."
Glozelle merely nodded.
"Why did you not do as you were commanded?" Edmund asked.
Glozelle was quiet for several seconds before he answered. "My understanding was that it was a duel of honor. If I had acted as commanded, it would have invalidated the duel, and a notable and honorable fighter would have been killed." He paused for a moment. "From what I observed, your brother – the High King – was the more honorable fighter. No matter what Miraz attempted, His Majesty faced it with honor."
"Thank you."
Glozelle jerked in surprise. "Your Majesty?"
Edmund stopped and looked at him seriously. "Thank you. Whatever your reasons, you helped to save my brother's life." He started walking again. "Caspian told us that you were an honorable man, and that you had consented to helping call off the attack just before you were wounded."
"My loyalty has always been to my people, and to the royal family ever since King Caspian promoted me to General," Glozelle said, his tone cautious. "After His Majesty's death, I was obligated to serve Lord Miraz in lieu of Prince Caspian until the Prince's eighteenth birthday. I have come to realize in recent days, however, that if I truly wished to serve the best interests of my people, it would not happen by following Miraz."
"Why did you lead the attack after the duel ended?" Edmund asked, his tone neutral and not revealing anything of what he was thinking. If Caspian was right and Glozelle was an honorable man, he would have good reason for ordering the charge instead of refusing to fight. As the General of the Telmarine army, he was supposed to be in command, which meant that he should have been the one ordering the attack.
"Because Prince Caspian is not of age, I must obey the orders of the ranking member of the Council in the absence of our King. Miraz was crowned King by our laws while Prince Caspian's allegiance was in doubt, and after Miraz was killed by your archer, Lord Sopespian was the next highest ranking member of the Council. He ordered the attack, and I was duty-bound to obey."
Edmund shook his head. "It was not our archers who killed Miraz. The arrow belongs to my sister, Queen Susan, but she did not fire. We obeyed the bounds of the duel, and Peter had won. We had no reason to take Miraz's life. Miraz's life was stolen by Lord Sopespian, in an effort to claim the throne for himself as regent for Miraz's son."
Glozelle was quiet as he digested Edmund's words. They were continuing among the tents, and Edmund could see that many of the Telmarines were watching them closely, although no one made a move towards them.
"Then Lord Sopespian was wrong, and I obeyed under false pretenses, Your Majesty," Glozelle replied. He knelt again. "I deeply apologize for any loss of Narnian life that arose as a result of my failure, and I accept full responsibility."
"You may rise, General," Edmund bade him. Although he showed no sign of his reaction, inwardly he was very pleased. There were very few enemies that he had encountered in his life who had displayed the level of respect and honor that Glozelle had at that moment. He felt that he could return to Peter confident that Glozelle's allegiance would be to Caspian, and that he would serve honorably and well. Edmund remained silent as they continued back around to where they had left Caspian standing before he spoke again. "General, will you swear allegiance to Prince Caspian, at this moment, and pledge to serve him with the honor and the respect that you've just shown to me?"
Edmund's words caused a stirring among the nearby Telmarines, who gathered around to witness what was happening. They were careful to maintain their distance, as Edmund and Caspian were both armed, but they were watching the situation closely.
Glozelle didn't hesitate. "I will, Your Majesty." He knelt a third time, this time at Caspian's feet, and raised his fist to cover his heart, as he bowed his head. "Your Highness, I pledge to serve you and the people of Telmar from this moment forth, and to serve with honor and dignity, as a warrior should."
More mutterings and murmurs came from the nearby Telmarines. Glozelle was their General and highly respected among them. This pledge of fealty would have impact on all of them as well. By pledging his loyalty to Caspian, if Caspian kept him in the position of General, he was pledging the Telmarine army to serve Caspian as well. Any further rebellion from this moment would be treated as an attempted coup, and the offenders would be treated harshly.
Caspian looked wildly at Edmund for guidance. This was not something that he had ever had to deal with before. The Narnians had pledged to follow him, but they had their Kings and Queens and now Princess Aislynn to follow, and the oaths they had sworn to Peter and his siblings superseded those they had sworn to Caspian. Edmund smiled at him and nodded, urging him to accept Glozelle's pledge.
Caspian looked back at Glozelle. "I accept your pledge, General. Please rise."
"Thank you for what you did for Peter," Lucy said as they moved along the corridors to the chamber where the wounded Narnians had been brought after the battle. Lucy fingered her cordial absently as she thought about what Edmund had said about how he'd convinced Peter to take a drop of her cordial after the duel was over. If he hadn't been able to, Peter would probably be lying among the wounded Narnians himself.
Susan had never been able to understand how she could work among the wounded, treating their wounds without the cordial. Lucy knew very well that while her sister could put on a brave front, the sight and smell of blood bothered her greatly. But healing had been something that Lucy had been interested in since the day she had received her cordial from Father Christmas all those years ago. She knew Peter and Edmund didn't like her fighting, and although she had helped the archers before on other campaigns and learned to fight with her sword and dagger, it wasn't something any of her siblings were comfortable with. She refused to stay at Cair Paravel when danger threatened Narnia – Aslan had named her Valiant after all – so the logical place for her was among the healers. Although it still bothered her when Peter or Edmund were the ones brought in, she had found that she could do the work of a healer and do it well. She had come to be so good at it that she had been considering becoming a doctor or a nurse when they had been sent back to England.
That was why she had agreed so readily when Peter had asked her to walk with Krisalyn among the wounded. The Narnians were her people and she wanted to care for them. It had been hard not to use her cordial on every wounded Narnian since the battle at Beruna against the Witch, but Peter had convinced her that her cordial was rare and precious and should only be used in cases where the healers couldn't do anything to help. Once her cordial was gone, there would be no more. Even after fifteen years of rule, the bottle was still mostly full, thanks to Peter's caution about using it.
"I'm glad that I could help him, and that he let me," Krisalyn said softly. "Peter…he's changed so much from what I remember. Not just his age, which baffles me, but…he's not the same man I remember, and yet he is."
"You've changed too, Kris," Lucy said softly, cautiously. She and Susan had had a marvelous working relationship with their sister-in-law before they had left Narnia, as well as a close family one. Krisalyn had fit into their family as if she had always belonged there. But after seeing how angry and bitter Krisalyn had been when she'd arrived, Lucy hadn't been sure how to address her, or what level of interference she or Peter would tolerate. She had wanted to apologize for being the one who had led them out of Narnia, but she hadn't dared.
Krisalyn nodded. "I know. I hate to admit it, but these last twenty-five years have been hard for me. I didn't know what to think or feel when I found out that Peter had returned after so long, when I had given up hope of ever seeing him again. Its…its been hard learning to trust him again. But I came to realize that he really is the same man I fell in love with and married, and he is still Aislynn's father. I told Aislynn that Peter was dead because I didn't want her to believe that he had abandoned us. I only had wonderful memories of Peter, and I didn't want to poison Aislynn with my bitterness."
"You still love him," Lucy said, quietly.
"Very much," Krisalyn said, tears gathering in her violet eyes. "That's why this has been so hard for me. He came back to us, but it won't matter for much longer."
Lucy frowned, confused at her sister-in-law's words. "Why? Just because the rule of Narnia should pass to Aislynn? It should, but Aslan hasn't given us any indication that we'll be leaving Narnia any time soon."
Krisalyn shook her head. "No, Lucy." There was a quiet despair in her eyes that Lucy had never seen before. This wasn't the same sorrow and grief that Krisalyn had shown after her miscarriage. This was more of a resignation, of a quiet acceptance mingled with sorrow and grief, and it was causing Lucy no little alarm. What so deeply troubled Krisalyn that she wasn't willing to fight it with all the spirit and fervor that she had shown every other time they had been forced to face trouble or threat?
Lucy took Krisalyn's arm and pulled her to a halt. The corridors and passages were still quiet since it was early yet, so Lucy felt that it would be safe to speak seriously with Krisalyn without worrying about anyone overhearing them. "Kris, please tell me what is wrong."
Krisalyn sighed. "Everyone else knows. I'm surprised no one mentioned it to you," she said quietly. Her violet eyes met Lucy's brown ones straight on. "I'm ill, Lucy, and dying slowly."
Lucy's mind whirled as she remembered Aislynn's stranger behavior when Corin had first arrived. In the days leading up to yesterday's battle, she'd forgotten all about it. "What do you mean?"
Lucy could only listen as Krisalyn detailed the symptoms that had been plaguing her for two years, and the Anvard healer's prognosis of how much time she had remaining to her. Outwardly, she kept her face calm and composed, but her mind was working furiously, trying to remember everything that the healers at Cair Paravel had taught her during the fifteen years they had ruled from the palace by the sea. While she could think of several things that the symptoms indicated, none of the illnesses that crossed her mind included every single symptom. Either way, though, she knew what she had to do. Reaching down to her belt pouch, she removed her cordial and handed it to Krisalyn. "Here. Take this."
Krisalyn's eyes were sad and accepting as she pushed the diamond bottle away. "Lucy, your cordial is for healing wounds, not illness."
"I've never tried to use it on an illness," Lucy replied. "I have no idea if it will work or not, but it certainly couldn't hurt." She extended the bottle again. "Take some." When Krisalyn continued to hesitate, Lucy caught her attention. "Kris, if you're worried about what Peter will say, don't be. Peter wants you to be healthy and strong. Perhaps this will not heal you, but it very well may. You should not have to suffer when there may be a way to heal you."
Krisalyn shook her head. "I'm not concerned with what Peter will say. Edmund and I already discussed this. I'm thinking about the future and what is best for Narnia."
Lucy frowned, not understanding. "How so?"
"You and your siblings have had your reign," Krisalyn began. "While you will always be Narnia's Kings and Queens – as I will – it is past time for the throne to pass to Aislynn. But as long as I live, I will be a figurehead, especially if Aslan does not intend for you to remain here. Aislynn will never truly have control or the confidence of the Narnians if they believe that there is a more experienced ruler. There is a reason that Aslan has not healed me of this illness and no treatment has worked. It is possible that Aslan intends for me to walk with him in his Country once Aislynn is securely on the throne."
Lucy was both appalled and in awe of her sister-in-law's reasoning. It made all too much sense, but in her mind there was still no reason for Krisalyn to suffer. She had not wanted to admit it to herself, but the odds of them remaining here for years upon years again were slim. It had become apparent within a few days of meeting Caspian and Aislynn that she and her siblings were here only to ensure that Narnia's rule was restored to its proper place. Krisalyn was correct that as long as she lived or any of the rest of Narnia's Kings and Queens remained in Narnia, their presence would cast doubt on Aislynn's ability to rule the land that was hers by birthright.
But Lucy was not about to voice her agreement of those thoughts, nor was she quite willing to face the idea that they wouldn't be in Narnia, their beloved country, for much longer. Instead, she simply held her cordial out again. "Please, Kris. Take some for me, if not for Peter. If Aslan intends you to walk with him soon, I'm sure my cordial won't make that much of a difference, but you shouldn't have to suffer these dizzy spells. The cordial may not do anything, but maybe it will at least relieve the symptoms for a short time. And to be frank, Narnia cannot afford for any of her Kings and Queens to be seen as weak by the Telmarines in the coming days."
Apparently that argument made it past Krisalyn's reticence as she finally nodded and accepted the diamond flask, carefully swallowing a single drop before she handed it back to Lucy. As Lucy put it back in her belt pouch, she watched Krisalyn closely for any signs of an improvement. Normally, the cordial's effects became apparent within seconds. But that was the effect on wounds. Lucy had no idea if there would be any noticeable effects on Krisalyn, given that she was afflicted by illness rather than a wound.
After nearly a minute, Krisalyn sighed. "I don't feel any different," knowing all too well what Lucy was looking for.
"Don't give up hope, Kris," Lucy said. "When we finish our task among the wounded, we can find Aslan. Surely he can tell us if it had any kind of effect on you." She forced herself to show the optimism that she was known for. "And maybe it did work and you won't have to deal with the vertigo any more."
"Perhaps," Krisalyn agreed, noncommittally. She looked down the corridor and tilted her head in the direction they had been going. "Shall we continue with our tasks?"
Lucy nodded silently and turned to follow Krisalyn as they continued down the corridor towards the healers' "wing". Her mind continued to race as she forced herself to consider what lay ahead of them. As the leaders of the Narnian forces, she, her siblings, Aislynn, and Caspian would all need to ride with the army to reclaim Cair Paravel, but once that was done…
They wouldn't be staying, she realized. Their presence would only destabilize everything that they had worked for and the fight to put Aislynn and Caspian on their respective thrones. This was not their Narnia any longer. It hadn't been their Narnia since they day they had left on the hunt for the White Stag. Peter and Edmund had been needed for their tactical planning and their skills as Narnia's Sword and the High King's Shield, and she had been needed to help lead the Narnians back to faith in Aslan after all these years…but they had now served their purpose.
"Lucy."
Lucy glanced over at Krisalyn, who had turned her head to look at her, even as they continued to walk. "Yes?"
"Thank you."
Two simple words, but Lucy understood every nuance of them in that instant. Her sister-in-law was thanking her for finding Aslan in time to save Aislynn, for helping to restore the Narnians hope in the Great Lion, for helping Peter, and least of all, for insisting on giving her the cordial in the faint hope that her life might be extended or the symptoms of her illness eased.
Lucy felt her lips curve into a smile. "You're welcome."
tbc...*ducks and runs*