The Golden Age of the Pevensies

Picnic Part 3

Part 3

'Ed, do you want to talk about the......the Witch? I saw you wince when Melisandre mentioned, you know...her name and...'

She stopped as soon as she noticed the pale and painful face of her little brother. She hadn't thought it would affect him that bad, else she would never have brought up that topic! How many such feelings had Edmund been bottling up and for how long? Peter had told her how Edmund would sometimes zone out during conversations, or spend restless, disturbing nights; but would never show it afterwards, lest his sisters be worried. He knew something about what happened in the Witch's camp, which Edmund hadn't shared with his sisters yet. Susan wrapped an arm around her fifteen-year-old brother and smiled slightly. She whispered, softly and kindly, 'I'm sorry, Ed. It's absolutely fine if you don't want to think about it. Just remember that we all forgave you the instant you left us, because we love you. No evil power could keep you imprisoned, because Narnia needed you and Aslan wanted you. You paid a much greater price than you should ever have been required to, that...that day in Beruna,' she said with a shudder and immediately closed her eyes, trying to shut out the horrible images which threatened to dance before her eyes; her brother lying on the stony ground, a gaping wound at the side of his stomach, issuing life-blood. 'Its...its fine, just don't let it eat you up. Try to forget everything she ever said to you, Ed; it will help. You won't need to find a solution if you forget the problem. Besides, we'll always be there for you whenever...'

'But I must tell you, Susan! Forgetting won't let me come to terms with it—opening up to you will. I just don't want to hide what bothers me anymore,' he said with pleading eyes and just the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips, 'so, will you listen, Su?'

'Oh Edmund, of course I will. I promise to give you anything you ask from me, if I'm capable; and I promise I'll try. If speaking your mind works for you, Ed, remember I'll always be here, right by your side, to share your feelings. You know you can count on me, on all of us. Oh!' she remarked, 'don't tell anything to Lucy though, she'll fee really bad about it and that will make her cry, poor girl.'

'She looks so glad among the flowers,' Edmund smiled at the tiny figure of the young Queen danced through the flowers and trees, running back and forth.

'Yes, but do let's get on with what you wanted to share, Ed. I am just so sorry for not being there when you needed us the most.'

'Or when you needed me and I deserted you? No Su, don't try to console me; it's a fact and we can't change it. I've finally accepted what I did, and I know all Narnians have too. I am grateful to Aslan for believing in me and giving me a second chance, but we digress. What I wanted to tell you was...'

And he gave terrible descriptions of the Witch and her violent, insensitive deeds which made Susan shudder and gasp. She was horrified when she got to know that the Witch had left Edmund to starve in an icy cold dungeon with strong steel handcuffs which dug deep into the skin and left a mark on Edmund's pale wrists, they had seen it five years ago. She could hardly listen to the stories of her dear little brother being tortured for information, and he was bold enough to own up to his mistakes and say (even though it required all his might) that he had revealed most of what he'd overheard Mr. Beaver tell the others. And of course, Susan reminded him how chivalrous and gentlemanly he was in admitting the truth ('Trust your sisters to praise you every time you act with nobility,' he'd said.) and reassured that even Peter would have cowered if he'd been told his sibling's lives depended on it.

It was a beautiful hour for the two young monarchs who sat there, revealing their deepest secrets to one of the persons they trusted most. None of it was, however, what you would call a 'birthday conversation' because most of it revolved around their deepest fears and feelings, melancholy and guilt, but it was pleasant, because it gave them their long sought-after peace of mind. Susan and Edmund didn't usually talk much, but they understood each other perfectly well. They were right, love doesn't need daily conversations, its just content with a little appreciation and understanding. Eventually, they came to a more light-hearted discussion about the ball Susan had organized at Cair Paravel five months ago.

'I was glad King Lune could come. Isn't his little son Corin an absolute sweetheart, Ed?'

'Yes of course! A sweetheart who punched me in the face with his knuckles.'

Susan let out am amused laugh. 'Well, I won't be surprised if he turns out to be an excellent warrior and challenges you or Peter to a duel.'

'Hmm, but we can deal with that when it comes. Meanwhile, who was that prince you danced with last? Just to let you know, Peter thinks he is an inexperienced, clumsy nincompoop and I have all intentions of conquering his kingdom next. Or that of the proud and arrogant braggart who asked you—' he was interrupted mid-sentence by the arrival Queen Lucy who was squealing with excitement as she tried out five different flower crowns to go with Susan's outfits.

After a thoroughly exhausting but enjoyable day, they rode back to the castle, each with a serene smile, and Susan thanking them all the way back home. She believed she'd never enjoyed a birthday more. She had gotten to spend the entire day with her siblings and the people she dearly loved and cared about. She felt happy and content with herself for reaching out to the squirrels and wood-people, glad to have made Edmund genuinely smile once again, and grateful to Lucy for her wonderful gifts. However, there was one person she missed terribly, it was Peter. She thought, during the return journey, that that had been her best birthday ever. Until it just got better.

As soon as the lush, verdant gardens of Cair came into view, they caught sight of a black steed and the glimmer of a steel blade-the Rhindon. On the horse was seated a young man, who looked much too regal and noble for his age; he looked magnificent. Like the Magnificent King he was. Susan dismounted from her cream-white mare and ran into his arms.

'Work isn't finished yet, but I would never miss my favourite girl's birthday for the World!' he whispered.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...