Moonshine

Chapter 24- Stin Agápi Mas

στην αγάπη μας: stin agápi mas
Greek
On Our Love
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"She'll be fine."

"All due respect, but you don't know that."

Peter just managed to stop himself from glaring at his little brother.

"Perhaps," With impressive restraint, he spoke, "but the healers do, and they're far more knowledgeable than I in the science of medicine."

You want me to teach you? And that too- medicine?

Aura- was she still somewhere, too? Had she been lost and looking for him, too?

He would wonder about it obsessively, he knew.

What would Cas-

Peter shook his head.

Yes, he felt something for him- something deep, at the very root of his heart. Yes, Peter had kissed him, and then Caspian had kissed him back. Yes, they had held hands- and that, too, in front of Aslan.

But this wasn't the time to go on about it.

The battle had just concluded, and there was much to do. Soldiers to treat, Telmarines to imprison, treaties and arrangements to be drawn up.

And Aslan had shown up- Peter wondered if he ought to go to Him, privately, and apologise for- well, for what?
He had been justified in not wanting to wait for Him to come and save the day. But he had not done everything the right way- he had been rash, and reckless, and he had cared about nothing but the end, forgetting about how important the means were, too.

And that wasn't even to mention his sister-in-law. Thirteen hundred years, of course she had been presumed dead- but she had come back.
Somehow, she had survived for so long. But the survival must have been difficult- she had looked like she had been in a war herself- bloody, and gruesome, and sickly. And she looked like a child- so much younger than she had been when he had last seen her. She had been- twenty-five? Or- no, it was twenty-six, if memory served.

She looked hardly fourteen now.

Fuck, how old had he been? Thirty-one, when they'd left, that late September day?

Susan had been thirty- Lucy had celebrated her twenty-sixth two and a half months before they had gone, and Ed had just turned twenty-eight.

It had been fifteen years of their reign that March, just a few weeks before his thirty-first birthday.

Autumn had come early that year- it usually came in October, not the middle of September- but none of them had minded.

His wedding had been supposed to be the month after they had disappeared- a fall wedding.

He couldn't understand it- time. Age. What ought to be simple, but really, really was not.

"Edmund, come on." His voice was softer this time, as he looked at his brother, who had not moved from Sanya's side.

He had carried his wife in his arms, and then on a horse, and then till Aslan's How, where he had yet again picked her up and staggered to the temporary healer's quarters that had been set up behind it.

Edmund looked near faint himself, but he had refused to leave.

"Eat something, close your eyes for a moment-" That was certainly what Peter wanted, just some food and rest, after such a duel and a battle, "I'll ask someone else to-"

"No." His tone was sharp, biting.
But the prickle of fear, of anxiety that Sanya would never wake up- it was clear, at least to anyone who knew Edmund. How could he not be afraid?