I woke up aching. My head pounded so hard I did not even open my eyes. I felt soft cloth rubbing the wrong way against my scarred wrists. I stirred slightly, stretching my cramped legs. I opened my eyes quickly when I felt movement, and nearly flopped over onto the dirt floor of... a tent? It was nighttime, and I realized I was swaying in a hammock. I heard a soft moan to my left.

"Ruth? You awake?"

"Good... well, I was going to say good morning, Edmund, but I suppose good night is more appropriate."

He rolled over out of his hammock and came to my bedside. "How are you feeling?" he asked as he placed a hand on my forehead. I rubbed my eyes tiredly.

"Everything hurts."

"Aww... Ruth, I'm so sorry..."

"No, Ed, don't be. It's not your fault."

"But you would be fine if not for me!" His voice rose as he tried not to cry.

"Shh," I sat up with considerable effort and grabbed his shoulders. "You don't know that. Not even Aslan knows what would have, could have, should have happened."

He sniffled and looked away. "I should go get Peter. He said to get him if you woke up."

"I'll go with you," I said, rising to my feet. I felt bad for complaining about how awful I felt, so I made an effort to show I was okay. He grabbed my elbow, expecting a stumble, but I fought the lightheadedness and stepped out into the moonlit valley, enjoying the feel of cool grass beneath my bandaged feet.

"Peter said he wanted to talk to Aslan some more," Edmund whispered. "The girls' tent is right there. And... there they are. Let's go."

Edmund and I crept toward the fire in the middle of the sleeping camp. Aslan was on his haunches next to Peter, who had his knees drawn to his chest.

"Peter, she's awake."

"Great," Peter said, keeping his eyes on the fire. "I'll be right- Oh! Ruth! You're up!" I smiled, shivering slightly in the nightly Narnian breeze. Peter moved over and made a space between Aslan and himself. "Oh, come get close to the fire! You too, Ed. It's cold."

We obeyed gratefully. I sidled in next to Aslan, tension creeping into my body as I eyed the fire warily. Deciding it was well-contained, I took a closer look at my hands. Bandages were wound gently from my elbows to my palms, the sleeves of my sweater having been pushed up. On my ankles were similar bandages from my toes to my calf.

"How are you feeling?" Aslan asked, pressing closer to me.

"Better, thanks," I said, accepting the unspoken invitation to rest against him. "What have I missed?"

"We've just been arranging the coronation of the Pevensies. We will set off for the castle the day after tomorrow."

I nodded excitedly. "Great! This is so exciting! Narnia will finally have good rulers."

Peter smiled crookedly. "I hope so. I... that's why I've been talking to Aslan."

"Oh, Peter, you'll be a great king!" I declared. "There's nothing for you to worry about."

"Yeah, Pete," Edmund added ruefully, "I'll make your job easier and not run off again."

A halfhearted chuckle rippled through the group. I studied Edmund's face, and I did not miss the pain in his eyes. The guilt. The shame. The remorse. The anger.

A chilly breeze rushed past, and I quivered. Peter observed this, and jumped to his feet. "Be right back. I couldn't give you what I wanted to earlier, but now that you're awake, I'll grab it!"

"Thanks," I said with a tired smile, and I closed my eyes as he hurried away. He gently shook my shoulder a few moments later. I awoke with a start, unaware that I had fallen asleep.

"Sorry to wake you up," he said softly, "but I believe you would like this."

He tenderly stretched my beanie over the lumps on both sides of my head, being careful to not rub it against any cuts.

"Thank you," I breathed as I touched it. "How did you find it?"

"Well, uh..." He sat in front of me, and Edmund came around to sit next to me. "The White Witch visited the camp. She had your beanie and your coat, and proclaimed that you were dead. There was a lot of blood on the beanie, and we believed the worst. But we washed it in the river and it should be clean now, but we were all so terrified..."

I couldn't fight the tears any longer. They streamed down my face pathetically as I looked away from Peter and towards the fire. As I watched the flames dance, I realized that I could have spared so much trouble if I hadn't just tried to be the hero. Edmund may have been fine. The White Witch may not have left her palace. Aslan could have sent better people to save Edmund. Soldiers. Not me. Guilt settled on my shoulders until it was hard to breathe.

"What are you thinking, Ruth?" Peter asked gently as he eased himself down next to me. Edmund moved so he was in front of me. The pain was still apparent in his eyes.

I shook my head. "I think I'm just tired," I said.

Aslan turned his great head to face me. "Not in a purely physical sense, perhaps."

I held his gaze for a moment before looking down. "Perhaps."

"We're here to help, Ruth," Edmund said. "We all are."

I nodded. "Thank you."

"Peter?" a small voice said, quivering with what could only be a lump of unshed tears in one's throat.

"Lucy? What're you doing awake? Come here." Peter wrapped his sister snugly in his coat. "What's wrong?"

"She misses Mum," Susan explained, sitting beside the fire. "I tried to help, but she wanted you. What are you all doing awake?"

"Long story," Ed remarked dryly.

"Tell me about your mum, Lucy," I said, wiping my face gently with my bandaged hands. "What's she like?"

She began to cry softly, but I persisted gently. "Is she nice?" She nodded. "How about patient?" Another nod. Gentle? Kind-hearted? Loving? The nods followed, then she began to contribute her own traits. Soon, her brothers and sister began to contribute, and soon we were all laughing about the time she took all of the kids to the countryside for a day and nearly landed in the mud trying to catch a chicken.

I laughed along with them, glad Lucy was feeling better. But at the same time... I missed my own family... I didn't want to cry again, so I merely closed my eyes and feigned sleep until it finally came.

🦁

I didn't wake up again until the sun was high in the sky. I shivered uncontrollably, even though I awoke in the same hammock, buried in blankets. Thinking the sun would warm me, I rose unsteadily to my feet. The world pitched and blackened, but I remained on my feet, my pulse pounding in my ears as my vision returned to normal. I grabbed a blanket, still shivering, and wrapped it around my shoulders before stepping into the sun.

I squinted against the sun, moaning softly. As my eyes adjusted, I took a few steps into the camp and gawked. Tents were being packed up, creatures of every shape and size helping out. They called across to each other, canvas swishing this way and that.

"There she is!" a voice called. I turned toward it to see Peter rushing toward me, beaming. His sleeves were above his elbows and he dripped with sweat, beads dangling from strands of golden hair. "Hey, Ruth."

I grinned. "Hi, P-Peter."

"How're you feeling?"

"Cold," I said, shivering again.

"Cold? In this heat?" He placed a hand on my forehead. "Ah, that'd explain it. You have a fever."

"G-guess th-that's true." I shrugged and smiled. "Anyw-way, wh-what's going on?"

"Just getting ready to set off for the castle!" He surveyed the activity around us and drew his forearm across his sweaty forehead, pointing as he explained everything that was going on. "Edmund's making sure all of the provisions are properly boxed and loaded onto ships. Those leave first. Lucy and Susan are... oh, there they are. They're helping the women tend to the wounded from the battle and making sure they'll be comfortable for the journey across the water. I also heard a rumor that a few women were sent on an errand to fetch some special cloth. For, you know, clothing for the coronation."

The nervous excitement in his voice was tangible. Surely enough, when I met his gaze, there was an unmistakable island of adventure in the sapphire sea of apprehension.

"The P-Pevensies, Kings and Queens of Narnia," I said in awe.

"Mhm..."

"Are you anxious?"

"I'm terrified..."

"W-Why?"

"What if... what if I'm not good enough?"

"Oh, Peter, you're m-m-more than enough!"

"Thanks for the confidence."

"I mean it. R-Really." I forced my shivers away and stood a little taller. "Peter, not everyone would be able to do what you've done. You brought your siblings to safety in a chaotic new world! You led an army into battle! And you're only 14! I think it's fair to say you're the most suitable candidate for king anywhere in Narnia."

"Thanks, Ruth," he said, a slight smile forming. He cleared his throat. "You've been wearing those bandages for a while. We should probably change them out for clean ones."

"A-alright," I said, my shivers returning.

"Goodness, you must have a high fever," he remarked, rubbing his hands up and down my shoulders in hopes that the friction would warm me. "Let me go get Lucy, her healing vial-"

"No, no, no, it's okay!" I exclaimed. "She should save that for the more seriously wounded. I'll be fine."

He cocked his head. "Ruth, you ARE seriously wounded. You could benefit tremendously from it. It's magic. It'll only take a drop."

"How big is the vial?" When he showed me, I shook my head. "No, no, I won't take a drop. No need to worry, Peter. They don't hurt badly anymore anyway," I lied convincingly.

"Alright..." he relented. "Let's go take a look regardless."

🦁

Back in the tent, the first glimpse of my wrist made me sick with disgust. The raw skin was as white as paper, dotted with small purple spots here and there. Around it were ugly red scabs. The bandages stuck painfully to the skin, and I couldn't stop the tears that welled up in my eyes. Peter glanced up then.

"I'm sorry..." he said. "I'm trying to be gentle, but it's sticking."

I nodded. "No need to apologize," I choked out.

When they were all off, I sighed in relief and wiped my moist eyes with my fingers. "Thanks."

"Of course." His blue eyes were rimmed with concern. "Are you sure you don't want the vial? You're crying."

"Mhm. I'm alright."

He nodded slowly. "Let's bandage them up again. You shouldn't have the raw skin so exposed."

The rebandaging was much less painful. He slathered a clear cream on the wounds and wrapped a clean cloth around them securely. When the last strip was secured with a clip, we sat in the silence. I stared at my bandages, my eyes slowly refilling with tears. I felt Peter's steady gaze on me, but I could not meet it.

"Ruth?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I slowly lifted my eyes to meet his. "Yes, Peter?"

He ran a tender thumb beneath my eyes to wipe my tears. "You know you're safe here, right?"

I looked down. "Peter, I can't feel safe anywhere..."

He lifted my face with his hands, and our foreheads touched. All I could see was him.

"Ruth..." he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Whether you feel safe or not... rain or shine... London or Narnia... I promise... I will never let this happen to you again. You will be safe with me."