in aslan’s country
companion to (x)
time and space were different in aslan’s country. one could simply close their eyes, think, and be wherever and whenever they wanted. edmund and lucy had taken him on some of the greatest explorations of their afterlives: the dawn of narnia with polly and digory at their side; mr tumnus’s house, now restored to when lucy had first entered the wardrobe, warm and welcoming; the lone islands, where they recounted their expeditions with eustace and caspian on the dawn treader.
though they would never tire of adventure, they needed someplace to call their own. it was only natural that they would make the real cair paravel their home. no longer was the castle crumbling into ruins, overgrown apple trees swallowing up the stones—this cair paravel was as they knew it, from the day of their coronation to their chase of the white stag.
lucy spent most of her days in the ocean, delighting in the fact that no matter how much she swam, she could never get sunburnt. edmund was content to see all his old books and artifacts safe in his chambers, untouched by time.
but peter could not bear to step into the throne room. edmund and lucy couldn't, either, and he suspected for the same reason. he was afraid of seeing three seats instead of four. it would crush whatever hope was left in him, whatever made him keep looking back at the door he shut when stars rained down upon them, that final motion that separated them from the world forever.
“peter!” lucy called. her crown glinted in the noontime sun, seawater drenching the bottom of her dress. “come in, the water’s lovely!”
“i’ll be right there,” peter replied, distracted. beside him, edmund paused from where he was combing the sand for seashells. he shot peter a knowing look.
lucy stepped onto shore, trailing water behind her as she sat on his other side. “is there something wrong?”
peter looked out over the endless horizon, the golden key weighing heavy in his pocket. “don't you feel that there's something missing?”
lucy smiled and linked their arms together. “i miss her, too,” she confided. “but she’ll find her way here, i’m sure of it. aslan will help her.”
“he knows what he’s doing,” edmund added to his right. “would it really be his country without her?”
“i suppose,” peter conceded, drawing both of them close to him.
it was on another perfect day that the ocean started turning white, a great wave that came in from the east. edmund was the one to see it first, looking out from the window in his bedroom; he roused peter and lucy, and they all ran down to the beach together.
“how curious!” lucy said. now that they were up close, they could see that the ocean was littered with white flowers. “edmund, look: lilies.”
“like the ones at the edge of the world,” edmund wondered, picking up one of the delicate flowers. “but why are they here?”
“maybe we’re there. at the edge of the world, i mean.”
“it does feel like it—but what does it mean?”
edmund and lucy’s voices rang around in peter’s ears as he bent down and plucked one of the flowers from the water. he straightened, cradling the white lily in his hands, and saw a far-off figure on the horizon. peter, quite unable to speak, seized lucy’s arm and pointed.
it was a woman in narnian dress, and as she drew closer and closer, they could see that her head was crowned with gold, long black hair gracefully scattering in the current. peter's heart beat faster. peter didn't dare hope.
but lucy cried out her name, half a sob and half exultation, wading further into the water with haste. edmund did the same, laughing and smiling as he went.
as for peter—peter felt the tears on his cheeks. the three of them looked expectantly at him, their faces perfect weeping mirrors of his own, and for once peter followed instead of led. and when he was taken up in that fierce embrace in the middle of the ocean he felt like the real peter pevensie.
