Chronicles of Narnia fanifction
Sep. 4th, 2008 12:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosa_cottonTitle: Faith
Rating: K+ (PG)
Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia, all characters, places, and related terms belong to C.S. Lewis, and Walden Media and Walt Disney Pictures.
Summary: Hurt by Peter after the White Witch’s appearance, Susan realizes her brother is not the only one who’s had trouble believing… PC movieverse, slightly AU.
~~~
Hot tears slowly run down Susan’s face. She has gazed at the vast field below, watched the stone pillars’ shifting shadows, and the clouds moving across the blue sky for an undeterminable length of time since the White Witch was almost brought back. More tears come as she shudders and clasps her hands tightly in her lap, sobs catching in her throat.
How could he? She feels livid and betrayed by Caspian, trying to call up her and her siblings’ enemy. Surely he had heard of the Witch and how she held Narnia in her power for a hundred years. Yet she is more hurt and disappointed by Peter’s actions. How could you?
She had rushed into the cavern to discover a hag and a werewolf dead, Trumpkin holding Lucy protectively a way’s from the bodies, Caspian kneeling on the floor, and Peter, with drawn sword, standing before a large wall of ice. Susan’s heart had stopped for a moment and her mouth became dry when she made out the familiar figure encased inside. The Witch had called to Peter by name, reached out a hand through the ice – it looked so real – towards him.
Peter’s silence and stillness had confused the girl as she watched helplessly. Her confusion changed to disbelief and fear when he slowly lowered his sword. “You know you can’t do this alone,” the Witch had said quietly, stretching her palm up, an offer in the gesture.
Still Peter had done nothing to deny her. Then suddenly the wall of ice and the image of the Witch cracked and exploded, revealing the relief of Aslan, and Ed, brave Edmund still holding his sword up where he had broken the ice.
Susan’s heart had still raced uncontrollably when both her older brother and Prince Caspian eventually saw her. In an instant her fear vanished, replaced with betrayal, pain, and anger. Their shamed expressions had done nothing to soothe her and she had held each one’s gaze for a stony, fiery moment before whirling and leaving the chamber at a brisk pace.
She wandered through the many corridors until she suddenly stepped into the open air high above the entrance of Aslan’s How. She had stared hard at the trees in the distance, her body straight and stiff, her hands clenched into fists at her side. A bird flew close by, chirping happily. And the dam had broken as she collapsed onto a rock and begun to sob.
Blinking her eyes rapidly, Susan gazes down at her lap. An ache is in the pit of her stomach and a lump in her throat. Peter, Peter, Peter! she wordlessly cries. Why had he seemed to listen to her? When he knew what she was? Was the situation that helpless he considered turning to the one who had tried to destroy their family? Was his faith so little in Aslan that he had not denied her?
And what of your faith, dear one? the question softly brushes her mind like a gentle caress, a warm breath of breeze dancing lightly over her cheeks.
Susan draws in a sharp breath. “What of mine…” she says in a threadbare, trembling whisper.
She thinks back to the time Lucy “spotted” Aslan, saying he wanted them to follow him. When her sister had looked at her, hopeful she believed her, Susan had only exchanged skeptical glances with Peter. The next night, after crossing the gorge, when Susan questioned her sister, Lucy said perhaps she had not wanted to see Aslan. It took Susan a long time to fall asleep, troubled. Of course she wanted to see Aslan. She had been hoping to ever since realizing she was back in Narnia. How could Lucy say such a thing?
During that first discussion on whether to attack Mariz or have him come to them, she had said nothing when Lucy presented the third opinion. Silently she had agreed with Peter. Aslan had not come, and time was running out. Willingly she had left her sister behind at Aslan’s How to take part in the raid.
And just a few hours earlier… When the Witch had appeared… Susan had done nothing. She had not tried to call to Peter. She had not…had not called on Aslan for help.
Her vision growing blurry once again, the girl slowly folds her hands together and rests her forehead against them. She had not believed in Lucy. Or, more importantly, in him -- that he was aware of them, with them, invisible or visible. She had not believed she would eventually see him, only hoped. She had thought Aslan would not come through and had gone to Miraz’s castle. And calling on Aslan as she had times past when she was a Gentle Queen never came to mind. Sorrow washes over her as her shoulders shake. She has lost faith in him, and she was not aware how much.
Forgive me. I am so sorry for forgetting. “Please, forgive me…” her voice dies away, unable to find the right words. Aslan…
She pictures the relief of the Lion down in the cavern, then of his large brown eyes, speckled with gold, all-knowing, loving, fierce. For a second she almost believes she feels fur nuzzling her, being embraced.
Her hands relax and part, palms turned upward. When she raises her head and gazes about, it is with a sense of peace.
Daughter of Eve…
A sound causes her to look towards the opening of the tunnel. Peter appears and wordlessly comes and sits down beside her. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Susan has trouble interpreting the expression on his face. They gaze at the scenery before them in silence.
“I am sorry.” Peter speaks first. He meets his sister’s eyes. “I am sorry for back there, with the Witch. For considering freeing her. If Ed had not…”
Thank you, Aslan for preserving us, Susan thanks, shutting her eyes for a moment.
“I did not believe in Aslan.” Pain settles over the older boy’s face and his eyes grow dark. “I got so tired, frustrated, and…scared in London. How could I call to him? Did he hear me? Since we got back here, I questioned if I would even see him. I’d come to trust in my own abilities and strengths and had little faith in Aslan. I thought I could handle all this. That he would not come…”
He hangs his head. He goes on, his tone becoming husky, “I did not realize it before, my loss of faith. Until after what happened, the Witch. And I remembered he overcame the Witch’s power, overcame even death. I had forgotten. How could any good have come about if I had…?”
Susan presses his arm, willing him not to go on. He covers her hand with his.
“I am sorry for everything I’ve done. I haven’t been the best brother lately. I’m sorry for letting you down. And the others,” Peter apologizes.
“You are not alone,” she replies, leaning against him and hugging him tightly. The girl is crushed against him as his strong arms wrap around her. “I forgive you,” she adds.
Pulling back, some of the weight seems to lift from his shoulders and he bows his head in thanks. Standing, he offers her his hand. “Miraz’s army will be arriving soon.”
Susan accepts his help and rises. “What will you do?”
“That must be discussed. Whatever happens, we will not be alone,” he answers, a new light in his eyes.
Susan smiles slightly and nods. “Not alone,” she quietly repeats.
Together they go inside, both praying for wisdom and guidance.
THE END
Rating: K+ (PG)
Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia, all characters, places, and related terms belong to C.S. Lewis, and Walden Media and Walt Disney Pictures.
Summary: Hurt by Peter after the White Witch’s appearance, Susan realizes her brother is not the only one who’s had trouble believing… PC movieverse, slightly AU.
~~~
Hot tears slowly run down Susan’s face. She has gazed at the vast field below, watched the stone pillars’ shifting shadows, and the clouds moving across the blue sky for an undeterminable length of time since the White Witch was almost brought back. More tears come as she shudders and clasps her hands tightly in her lap, sobs catching in her throat.
How could he? She feels livid and betrayed by Caspian, trying to call up her and her siblings’ enemy. Surely he had heard of the Witch and how she held Narnia in her power for a hundred years. Yet she is more hurt and disappointed by Peter’s actions. How could you?
She had rushed into the cavern to discover a hag and a werewolf dead, Trumpkin holding Lucy protectively a way’s from the bodies, Caspian kneeling on the floor, and Peter, with drawn sword, standing before a large wall of ice. Susan’s heart had stopped for a moment and her mouth became dry when she made out the familiar figure encased inside. The Witch had called to Peter by name, reached out a hand through the ice – it looked so real – towards him.
Peter’s silence and stillness had confused the girl as she watched helplessly. Her confusion changed to disbelief and fear when he slowly lowered his sword. “You know you can’t do this alone,” the Witch had said quietly, stretching her palm up, an offer in the gesture.
Still Peter had done nothing to deny her. Then suddenly the wall of ice and the image of the Witch cracked and exploded, revealing the relief of Aslan, and Ed, brave Edmund still holding his sword up where he had broken the ice.
Susan’s heart had still raced uncontrollably when both her older brother and Prince Caspian eventually saw her. In an instant her fear vanished, replaced with betrayal, pain, and anger. Their shamed expressions had done nothing to soothe her and she had held each one’s gaze for a stony, fiery moment before whirling and leaving the chamber at a brisk pace.
She wandered through the many corridors until she suddenly stepped into the open air high above the entrance of Aslan’s How. She had stared hard at the trees in the distance, her body straight and stiff, her hands clenched into fists at her side. A bird flew close by, chirping happily. And the dam had broken as she collapsed onto a rock and begun to sob.
Blinking her eyes rapidly, Susan gazes down at her lap. An ache is in the pit of her stomach and a lump in her throat. Peter, Peter, Peter! she wordlessly cries. Why had he seemed to listen to her? When he knew what she was? Was the situation that helpless he considered turning to the one who had tried to destroy their family? Was his faith so little in Aslan that he had not denied her?
And what of your faith, dear one? the question softly brushes her mind like a gentle caress, a warm breath of breeze dancing lightly over her cheeks.
Susan draws in a sharp breath. “What of mine…” she says in a threadbare, trembling whisper.
She thinks back to the time Lucy “spotted” Aslan, saying he wanted them to follow him. When her sister had looked at her, hopeful she believed her, Susan had only exchanged skeptical glances with Peter. The next night, after crossing the gorge, when Susan questioned her sister, Lucy said perhaps she had not wanted to see Aslan. It took Susan a long time to fall asleep, troubled. Of course she wanted to see Aslan. She had been hoping to ever since realizing she was back in Narnia. How could Lucy say such a thing?
During that first discussion on whether to attack Mariz or have him come to them, she had said nothing when Lucy presented the third opinion. Silently she had agreed with Peter. Aslan had not come, and time was running out. Willingly she had left her sister behind at Aslan’s How to take part in the raid.
And just a few hours earlier… When the Witch had appeared… Susan had done nothing. She had not tried to call to Peter. She had not…had not called on Aslan for help.
Her vision growing blurry once again, the girl slowly folds her hands together and rests her forehead against them. She had not believed in Lucy. Or, more importantly, in him -- that he was aware of them, with them, invisible or visible. She had not believed she would eventually see him, only hoped. She had thought Aslan would not come through and had gone to Miraz’s castle. And calling on Aslan as she had times past when she was a Gentle Queen never came to mind. Sorrow washes over her as her shoulders shake. She has lost faith in him, and she was not aware how much.
Forgive me. I am so sorry for forgetting. “Please, forgive me…” her voice dies away, unable to find the right words. Aslan…
She pictures the relief of the Lion down in the cavern, then of his large brown eyes, speckled with gold, all-knowing, loving, fierce. For a second she almost believes she feels fur nuzzling her, being embraced.
Her hands relax and part, palms turned upward. When she raises her head and gazes about, it is with a sense of peace.
Daughter of Eve…
A sound causes her to look towards the opening of the tunnel. Peter appears and wordlessly comes and sits down beside her. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Susan has trouble interpreting the expression on his face. They gaze at the scenery before them in silence.
“I am sorry.” Peter speaks first. He meets his sister’s eyes. “I am sorry for back there, with the Witch. For considering freeing her. If Ed had not…”
Thank you, Aslan for preserving us, Susan thanks, shutting her eyes for a moment.
“I did not believe in Aslan.” Pain settles over the older boy’s face and his eyes grow dark. “I got so tired, frustrated, and…scared in London. How could I call to him? Did he hear me? Since we got back here, I questioned if I would even see him. I’d come to trust in my own abilities and strengths and had little faith in Aslan. I thought I could handle all this. That he would not come…”
He hangs his head. He goes on, his tone becoming husky, “I did not realize it before, my loss of faith. Until after what happened, the Witch. And I remembered he overcame the Witch’s power, overcame even death. I had forgotten. How could any good have come about if I had…?”
Susan presses his arm, willing him not to go on. He covers her hand with his.
“I am sorry for everything I’ve done. I haven’t been the best brother lately. I’m sorry for letting you down. And the others,” Peter apologizes.
“You are not alone,” she replies, leaning against him and hugging him tightly. The girl is crushed against him as his strong arms wrap around her. “I forgive you,” she adds.
Pulling back, some of the weight seems to lift from his shoulders and he bows his head in thanks. Standing, he offers her his hand. “Miraz’s army will be arriving soon.”
Susan accepts his help and rises. “What will you do?”
“That must be discussed. Whatever happens, we will not be alone,” he answers, a new light in his eyes.
Susan smiles slightly and nods. “Not alone,” she quietly repeats.
Together they go inside, both praying for wisdom and guidance.
THE END
