Mini Bang Fic: A Tale of Two Sisters, part 3
Title: A tale of two sisters
Author: pamymex3girl
Rating: PG
Pairings/characters: Susan, Lucy, mentions of Peter, Edmund and Aslan
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor the setting of the story.
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: first movie, briefly mentions the Last Battle
Summary: A long time ago, in Narnia, Susan fell ill. It was Lucy then, who took care of her. Now many years later it was Susan’s turn to care for Lucy, despite all that had happened since they lost Narnia. But none of it mattered because in the end they were sisters and they would love each other no matter what happened in their lives…
Part 3
‘You keep your past by having sisters. As you get older, they’re the only ones who don’t get bored if you talk about your memories.’
Deborah Moggach
****
It almost seemed like an echo, like a memory playing over and over again.
Two girls, two siblings, sitting together somewhere in the world; once in Narnia another time in England, but they were there. At the same time, for they grew up in both worlds, but different, nevertheless. The same timing, the same age, the same day: in one world, hiding in a cave, the oldest sister falls ill; in another, in a small room, the youngest would succumb.
It felt like they were replaying.
‘Susan, tell me a story.’ ‘Luce, tell me a story.’
For a second, when Lucy whispered the words, Susan could almost see them there (despite not remembering) sitting in that cave. However, they weren't; everything was different here.
****
Susan sat down on her knees beside the bed.
It would hurt later; she knew this, but in that moment, she did not care; all that mattered was Lucy, all that mattered was making sure she was calm. She’d worry about everything else later, about the make-up still open on the table, the dresses lying across the room; the dress she was wearing was probably going to be ruined in a few minutes, but she did not care. Softly, she hummed a song while using a wet cloth against Lucy’s forehead in a desperate attempt to get her fever down.
‘Susan, tell me a story.’
‘Do you remember that one winter, when you were like nine years old, and it snowed so much we couldn’t go outside?’
Of course, Lucy remembered, but she loved the way Susan told it; she could wave together the story making it seem like they were living it again. The story was simple really; it had been a year after Narnia, and they were happier than; though Susan doesn’t mention Narnia, it is there in the background, in those times it was not possible to forget about it. They’d been snowed in; it was Christmas, and somehow they’d managed to get separated. Peter and Edmund were somewhere else, though Lucy cannot remember why or where, but they were.
They’d spend all day singing songs and opening presents, for some reason, to this day, it was the best Christmas ever.
(What Susan doesn’t tell, What Lucy forgets is that at some point they had an argument - because really they were together all day long, at some point they wanted to kill each other - nor that they spend a few hours not talking. However, that really wasn’t important.)
****
Lucy wasn’t a storyteller, at least not the way Susan was.
Susan could weave together a story making it new every time she told it; even memories, which were essentially the same every time, seemed like a brand new story every time she told it. In England, she used to take all the fairytales she knew and make them into one story, seemingly like they were important like they needed to exist with each other to be able to exist at all. Susan could silence an entire room while telling a story, but she rarely did; she told Lucy most of her stories and sometimes their brothers as well, but no one else. Lucy never really understood why, if she were able to tell stories like that she’d tell them all the time.
However, Lucy could not tell stories that way; she just told them with no magic.
Susan could not tell stories now, she was ill shivering violently; leaning against Lucy the way she usually did with Susan. Her eyelids were falling closed, and her throat was closing up; Lucy could hear it in her voice when she talked hoarsely like she was dying (which Lucy feverishly hoped she wasn’t). So Lucy told her stories, she wrecked her mind trying to remember different funny and happy moments weaving them together into one tale just like Susan would. She hoped it was close; she hoped it was good enough.
And Lucy talked, while the rain felt, every single memory that came to mind.
****
‘Do you remember that time, we went ice skating?’
‘Which time? That time in Narnia or the time in England?’
‘In England, you were small only six years old; it was mum’s idea. It was cold outside, but you wanted to go so desperately so we went. We’d never gone before, I was so sure I was going to fall, and I told you to take a hold of Peter, because he was stronger and he wouldn’t let you fall; he'd make sure. However, you wouldn’t, six years old and already stubborn as hell, and you would not let go of my hand. So we went on the ice together, slowly in circles, I remember we were laughing and having fun.’
‘But we did fall didn’t we Susan?’
‘Yeah we did, but it was okay, because we got back up again and went on the ice another time. And on and on we went in circles on the ice. Together, like we were one. Do you know what was most important in that moment? What I remember the most?’
‘How beautiful it was.’
‘No, how you trusted me so completely, you trusted me and believed I would protect you, even if I didn’t believe I could. You trusted me, and you’ve never doubted me since.’
‘Why would I? You’re my big sister.’
*****
She was getting worse, losing herself in her fever.
Susan kept telling her stories, memories and fairytales thrown together; if Lucy had been able to focus long enough she’d have realized that Susan was worried. Her voice quivered; her hands shook, but she kept talking, hoping that somehow the sound of her voice would keep Lucy with them. She could feel someone come up behind her, but she did not turn, knowing even before he spoke that it was Edmund.
‘How is she? She any better?’
‘No, she’s getting worse. Is Peter back yet?’
‘No.’
‘Where is he? What is he doing?’
The door opened very suddenly, and they could hear Peter’s voice carried up from downstairs, along with a male voice, which she hoped was the doctor. And it was, suddenly they were both there like saving angels; surely, everything would be alright now. He sends them all downstairs, that was probably the worst of the moment, but he said he needed to be alone. It seemed like hours before the doctor came back downstairs, truly it wasn’t that long. He said it would be alright that it would be a day or so, but Lucy would be back up and about.
After he left Peter said: ‘It looks like we’re not going to that party.’
Susan didn’t say anything, truthfully she hadn’t thought about the party since Lucy fell ill.
****
Then finally it stopped raining, but still they could go nowhere.
The night had finally fallen, and the darkness was overpowering; even if she tried she would never be able to make her way through. Lucy crept closer to her older sister, who despite feeling ill still radiated safety and strength, and kept on talking. Afraid that if she’d stop she’d have to face up to their situation; she'd have to face up to how much trouble they were in; they could die here and never be found. Susan definitely could, slipping away into her illness more and more; however, if she talked, she could make them both believe they’d be alright, that somehow Aslan would save them, that Susan could fight off this little illness.
(It wasn’t a little illness; it was a deadly illness. They did not know, but they would find out, that no matter how hard she fought she could not save herself. Someone needed to go to the far north and get a flower, for that and only that would cure her. And Edmund would do that, but that was later, much, much later.)
Eventually, at some point, they both fell asleep.
Lucy could not remember when they had fallen asleep, but it was somewhere in the memory of their first birthday here in Narnia. Lucy awoke when the first sunlight seeped in, and she could not believe she had actually managed to sleep. She sat up slowly and then realized suddenly that Susan had not awoken. Worried, scared she shook her slightly but Susan did not answer; she did not wake up. She was breathing; her chest was moving ever slowly so she was. ‘Susan!’
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Susan opened her eyes.
And Lucy felt like she could breathe again.
****
Lucy was sleeping, though not calmly.
Susan, however, perched on the edge of the bed, could not sleep; she was too afraid. She was so distressed, despite what the doctor said that if she closed her eyes, Lucy would somehow manage to slip away. She knew she wouldn't; she knew she could; the doctor was sure she would be alright, but still. So Susan kept talking, telling stories, as well as singing softly. It did not last, of course it couldn’t last, and eventually they all fell asleep. Nobody could stay awake forever, though they tried, and eventually they slept.
Susan dreamed of the cave that night.
It was strange and surreal, but she dreamed they were there the both of them; laughing and talking, neither one was ill. Outside the rain kept falling but neither paid attention, the fire was blazing, and it was warm in there. They weren’t alone, Aslan sad beside them, and she felt safe. The dream did not last, and after she woke she could not remember the dream, but she remembered the feeling of safety and peace.
Lucy had not yet woken up, but she was calmer somehow.
Perhaps she too was dreaming of the cave.
****
‘Do you remember your first birthday here?’
‘Of course I remember.’
‘You were turning thirteen and we decided that you needed a big party, not as much because of the age you were turning in, but because it was your first birthday here in Narnia. Your first birthday as queen. The Narnians wanted to hold a ball for you with music and dancing; Peter wanted to do something even more spectacular. But you wanted something outside, something in the beautiful lands. So the centaurs moved the dancing outside, and with the help of the Fauns created this beautiful outside dance. And in that moment, you looked so beautiful and happy.’
‘I remember dancing with you.’
‘Yes, we danced together. Together, though we didn’t know the dance - we had yet to learn - but you followed my lead.’
‘Of course I did; you're the dancer after all.’
****
She still didn’t know where they were.
Yesterday, at the end when they were practically crawling through the woods, she had stopped paying attention; even though she had not really known where they were before. They had to get out, not only because she was afraid of being left here all alone; however, mostly because Susan just kept getting sicker and Lucy was afraid of losing her. The rain had passed perhaps if she blew on the horn now someone would come; she knew that normally it only really worked when Susan used it but there was no way that Susan could blow on the horn now, so it had to be her.
The only problem was that the horn was gone.
Susan had curled up and was staring at her pleadingly, her big sister the one who always protected was gone; all that was left was a sick, scared person who did not understand what was happening. And the horn was just gone; she tried to calm herself down searching through the cave hoping it had fallen last night. It hadn’t, which meant that the horn - their only hope - was somewhere out there, in those dark woods. She hopes that the others are already looking for them, and perhaps they do not need it, but she thinks it will make it easier.
She’s afraid, so afraid; she cannot go there alone, what if she doesn’t find her way back.
One look towards Susan and she knew she had to go.
****
Lucy too wouldn’t ask to only think, but she never said it out loud because she was too afraid of the answer.
One day she’d just think it, for no specific reason, and afterwards, it would be all she could think off.
‘What if you do die, or if you’re dying, would someone know? If one of them was dying would the others be able to tell? Or would it take them all by surprise?’
****
‘Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other.’
Carol Saline
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Author: pamymex3girl
Rating: PG
Pairings/characters: Susan, Lucy, mentions of Peter, Edmund and Aslan
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor the setting of the story.
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: first movie, briefly mentions the Last Battle
Summary: A long time ago, in Narnia, Susan fell ill. It was Lucy then, who took care of her. Now many years later it was Susan’s turn to care for Lucy, despite all that had happened since they lost Narnia. But none of it mattered because in the end they were sisters and they would love each other no matter what happened in their lives…
Part 3
‘You keep your past by having sisters. As you get older, they’re the only ones who don’t get bored if you talk about your memories.’
Deborah Moggach
****
It almost seemed like an echo, like a memory playing over and over again.
Two girls, two siblings, sitting together somewhere in the world; once in Narnia another time in England, but they were there. At the same time, for they grew up in both worlds, but different, nevertheless. The same timing, the same age, the same day: in one world, hiding in a cave, the oldest sister falls ill; in another, in a small room, the youngest would succumb.
It felt like they were replaying.
‘Susan, tell me a story.’ ‘Luce, tell me a story.’
For a second, when Lucy whispered the words, Susan could almost see them there (despite not remembering) sitting in that cave. However, they weren't; everything was different here.
****
Susan sat down on her knees beside the bed.
It would hurt later; she knew this, but in that moment, she did not care; all that mattered was Lucy, all that mattered was making sure she was calm. She’d worry about everything else later, about the make-up still open on the table, the dresses lying across the room; the dress she was wearing was probably going to be ruined in a few minutes, but she did not care. Softly, she hummed a song while using a wet cloth against Lucy’s forehead in a desperate attempt to get her fever down.
‘Susan, tell me a story.’
‘Do you remember that one winter, when you were like nine years old, and it snowed so much we couldn’t go outside?’
Of course, Lucy remembered, but she loved the way Susan told it; she could wave together the story making it seem like they were living it again. The story was simple really; it had been a year after Narnia, and they were happier than; though Susan doesn’t mention Narnia, it is there in the background, in those times it was not possible to forget about it. They’d been snowed in; it was Christmas, and somehow they’d managed to get separated. Peter and Edmund were somewhere else, though Lucy cannot remember why or where, but they were.
They’d spend all day singing songs and opening presents, for some reason, to this day, it was the best Christmas ever.
(What Susan doesn’t tell, What Lucy forgets is that at some point they had an argument - because really they were together all day long, at some point they wanted to kill each other - nor that they spend a few hours not talking. However, that really wasn’t important.)
****
Lucy wasn’t a storyteller, at least not the way Susan was.
Susan could weave together a story making it new every time she told it; even memories, which were essentially the same every time, seemed like a brand new story every time she told it. In England, she used to take all the fairytales she knew and make them into one story, seemingly like they were important like they needed to exist with each other to be able to exist at all. Susan could silence an entire room while telling a story, but she rarely did; she told Lucy most of her stories and sometimes their brothers as well, but no one else. Lucy never really understood why, if she were able to tell stories like that she’d tell them all the time.
However, Lucy could not tell stories that way; she just told them with no magic.
Susan could not tell stories now, she was ill shivering violently; leaning against Lucy the way she usually did with Susan. Her eyelids were falling closed, and her throat was closing up; Lucy could hear it in her voice when she talked hoarsely like she was dying (which Lucy feverishly hoped she wasn’t). So Lucy told her stories, she wrecked her mind trying to remember different funny and happy moments weaving them together into one tale just like Susan would. She hoped it was close; she hoped it was good enough.
And Lucy talked, while the rain felt, every single memory that came to mind.
****
‘Do you remember that time, we went ice skating?’
‘Which time? That time in Narnia or the time in England?’
‘In England, you were small only six years old; it was mum’s idea. It was cold outside, but you wanted to go so desperately so we went. We’d never gone before, I was so sure I was going to fall, and I told you to take a hold of Peter, because he was stronger and he wouldn’t let you fall; he'd make sure. However, you wouldn’t, six years old and already stubborn as hell, and you would not let go of my hand. So we went on the ice together, slowly in circles, I remember we were laughing and having fun.’
‘But we did fall didn’t we Susan?’
‘Yeah we did, but it was okay, because we got back up again and went on the ice another time. And on and on we went in circles on the ice. Together, like we were one. Do you know what was most important in that moment? What I remember the most?’
‘How beautiful it was.’
‘No, how you trusted me so completely, you trusted me and believed I would protect you, even if I didn’t believe I could. You trusted me, and you’ve never doubted me since.’
‘Why would I? You’re my big sister.’
*****
She was getting worse, losing herself in her fever.
Susan kept telling her stories, memories and fairytales thrown together; if Lucy had been able to focus long enough she’d have realized that Susan was worried. Her voice quivered; her hands shook, but she kept talking, hoping that somehow the sound of her voice would keep Lucy with them. She could feel someone come up behind her, but she did not turn, knowing even before he spoke that it was Edmund.
‘How is she? She any better?’
‘No, she’s getting worse. Is Peter back yet?’
‘No.’
‘Where is he? What is he doing?’
The door opened very suddenly, and they could hear Peter’s voice carried up from downstairs, along with a male voice, which she hoped was the doctor. And it was, suddenly they were both there like saving angels; surely, everything would be alright now. He sends them all downstairs, that was probably the worst of the moment, but he said he needed to be alone. It seemed like hours before the doctor came back downstairs, truly it wasn’t that long. He said it would be alright that it would be a day or so, but Lucy would be back up and about.
After he left Peter said: ‘It looks like we’re not going to that party.’
Susan didn’t say anything, truthfully she hadn’t thought about the party since Lucy fell ill.
****
Then finally it stopped raining, but still they could go nowhere.
The night had finally fallen, and the darkness was overpowering; even if she tried she would never be able to make her way through. Lucy crept closer to her older sister, who despite feeling ill still radiated safety and strength, and kept on talking. Afraid that if she’d stop she’d have to face up to their situation; she'd have to face up to how much trouble they were in; they could die here and never be found. Susan definitely could, slipping away into her illness more and more; however, if she talked, she could make them both believe they’d be alright, that somehow Aslan would save them, that Susan could fight off this little illness.
(It wasn’t a little illness; it was a deadly illness. They did not know, but they would find out, that no matter how hard she fought she could not save herself. Someone needed to go to the far north and get a flower, for that and only that would cure her. And Edmund would do that, but that was later, much, much later.)
Eventually, at some point, they both fell asleep.
Lucy could not remember when they had fallen asleep, but it was somewhere in the memory of their first birthday here in Narnia. Lucy awoke when the first sunlight seeped in, and she could not believe she had actually managed to sleep. She sat up slowly and then realized suddenly that Susan had not awoken. Worried, scared she shook her slightly but Susan did not answer; she did not wake up. She was breathing; her chest was moving ever slowly so she was. ‘Susan!’
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Susan opened her eyes.
And Lucy felt like she could breathe again.
****
Lucy was sleeping, though not calmly.
Susan, however, perched on the edge of the bed, could not sleep; she was too afraid. She was so distressed, despite what the doctor said that if she closed her eyes, Lucy would somehow manage to slip away. She knew she wouldn't; she knew she could; the doctor was sure she would be alright, but still. So Susan kept talking, telling stories, as well as singing softly. It did not last, of course it couldn’t last, and eventually they all fell asleep. Nobody could stay awake forever, though they tried, and eventually they slept.
Susan dreamed of the cave that night.
It was strange and surreal, but she dreamed they were there the both of them; laughing and talking, neither one was ill. Outside the rain kept falling but neither paid attention, the fire was blazing, and it was warm in there. They weren’t alone, Aslan sad beside them, and she felt safe. The dream did not last, and after she woke she could not remember the dream, but she remembered the feeling of safety and peace.
Lucy had not yet woken up, but she was calmer somehow.
Perhaps she too was dreaming of the cave.
****
‘Do you remember your first birthday here?’
‘Of course I remember.’
‘You were turning thirteen and we decided that you needed a big party, not as much because of the age you were turning in, but because it was your first birthday here in Narnia. Your first birthday as queen. The Narnians wanted to hold a ball for you with music and dancing; Peter wanted to do something even more spectacular. But you wanted something outside, something in the beautiful lands. So the centaurs moved the dancing outside, and with the help of the Fauns created this beautiful outside dance. And in that moment, you looked so beautiful and happy.’
‘I remember dancing with you.’
‘Yes, we danced together. Together, though we didn’t know the dance - we had yet to learn - but you followed my lead.’
‘Of course I did; you're the dancer after all.’
****
She still didn’t know where they were.
Yesterday, at the end when they were practically crawling through the woods, she had stopped paying attention; even though she had not really known where they were before. They had to get out, not only because she was afraid of being left here all alone; however, mostly because Susan just kept getting sicker and Lucy was afraid of losing her. The rain had passed perhaps if she blew on the horn now someone would come; she knew that normally it only really worked when Susan used it but there was no way that Susan could blow on the horn now, so it had to be her.
The only problem was that the horn was gone.
Susan had curled up and was staring at her pleadingly, her big sister the one who always protected was gone; all that was left was a sick, scared person who did not understand what was happening. And the horn was just gone; she tried to calm herself down searching through the cave hoping it had fallen last night. It hadn’t, which meant that the horn - their only hope - was somewhere out there, in those dark woods. She hopes that the others are already looking for them, and perhaps they do not need it, but she thinks it will make it easier.
She’s afraid, so afraid; she cannot go there alone, what if she doesn’t find her way back.
One look towards Susan and she knew she had to go.
****
Lucy too wouldn’t ask to only think, but she never said it out loud because she was too afraid of the answer.
One day she’d just think it, for no specific reason, and afterwards, it would be all she could think off.
‘What if you do die, or if you’re dying, would someone know? If one of them was dying would the others be able to tell? Or would it take them all by surprise?’
****
‘Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other.’
Carol Saline
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5