What if Edmund was not the one to be stabbed by the White Witch? Susan x Peter

Susan assisted Lucy off of Aslan's back at his instruction before he headed off in the direction of where the sound of battle being raged could be heard.

Lucy gazed up at her older sister with a concerned face. " Where is he going?"

"I'm not sure."

The younger girl started to set off in the direction that Aslan had only shortly went before Susan put a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "We should stay up here."

"But Aslan…"

Susan gave Lucy a understanding squeeze on her shoulder. The poor girl was still recalling the dear lion's demise only a few hours earlier that day. "He'll be alright. You'll see. If he had wanted us to go he would have taken us with him."

Lucy, still not quite convinced, looked off in the distance where Aslan had disappeared to.

Before another word could be said by either of the girls, a rather weary Edmund came running up the hill from where Aslan had descended. Without word or hesitation he grabbed both their arms and started pulling them in the opposite direction of where he was coming.

They didn't get very far before Susan pulled her arm free and stopped. Edmund, still holding his youngest sister's hand, turned around to face Susan. "Come on, we've got to go!"

Susan looked at him with a perplexed face. "Why? Where's Peter?"

Edmund made a motion to grab her hand again but she merely shook him off. "He's down there," He nodded in the direction of the battle. "He told me to get you two and leave."

Susan shook her head and turned towards the battle. "Of all the arrogant, self righteous things to do…" and without another word she turned and ran towards the overhanging cliff.

Edmund and Lucy exchanged a look before following Susan to the cliff. When they caught up to her they found her staring intently at something on the battlefield with a look of horror in her eyes. Down below it looked liked they were fighting a losing battle. Bodies of flesh and stone were strewn about and Aslan was nowhere to be found. People left and right were getting stabbed, clawed, hit, and bit. Her attention zeroed in on one person though….Peter. He was fighting with all his strength against members of the White Witch's army. They kept attacking him one after another. Even from her high stance up on the cliff she could tell he was wearing out.

Susan soon realized that she was not the only one with eyes fixed on Peter. Off to the left, not terribly far from where her brother was, the White Witch was advancing upon him with a look of blood in her eyes. A million thoughts darted through her mind. The Witch would catch him off guard and surely kill him. She could try to call to him, to warn him, but the Witch would also hear her and race in for the kill. What could she possibly do? She could shoot her bow but she had witnessed the Witch in battle and it didn't seem like anything hardly fazed her.

At that moment something caught Susan's eye. It was the glint of the Witch's scepter. That scepter seemed to be the source of her magic. Without it…maybe Peter had a chance.

Susan quickly turned around and grabbed the sword that Edmund was holding. "I need to borrow this, and for God's sake stay here!" Before he could protest Susan had ran down the hill. Fighting all of his instincts to run off after her, for once, he did as he was told.

Susan had no idea how she had managed to get down the hill and to the Witch so fast, but looking back she would know she was driven by a very powerful force, love. In what seemed like mere seconds she had come up behind the Witch. Before the Witch could make another step towards Peter, Susan raised up the sword high before slamming it down with all her might on the end of the scepter.

Once the sword shattered the end of the scepter a magical pulse resonated throughout the valley, causing Susan to stumble to the ground. The Witch immediately looked to her broken scepter then fiercely to the fallen girl. She grabbed Susan's hair, eliciting a cry of pain, as she pulled her up to her feat.

Upon hearing the cry from his sister that should have been impossible to hear at such a distance, Peter turned his head to witness a scene that would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. The Witch was holding the back of Susan's neck so she was facing her, holding the spear side of her scepter, ready to strike. Which it did. Plunging straight into Susan's stomach.

As his sister doubled over in pain as sharp as the spear Jadis was now withdrawing, Peter raced to try to catch his sister but failed- she crumpled to the ground, her blood spilling between her fingers.

The evil Witch who had done this horrible thing was standing before him, smiling, in her pale hand she held the spear that dripped his sister's blood. Enraged Peter ran at the Witch who was now walking in his direction. She took the spear in her hand, wiping Susan's blood off of it in the process before wiping it on her dress. Peter was the first to strike. He struck hard, his body being torn apart by rage and sorrow. He hit again and again and again…each time with no success.

The Witch, who up until now had just been on the offense, struck back, knocking the fighting prince to the ground. With one strong jab she managed to stab him through the arm, holding him in place on the ground. Right before she was to finish him she heard a ground shaking roar. Everyone, including Peter, looked up the gleaming form that was Aslan.

"Impossible." That was the last word the Witch would ever say, right before Aslan lunged.

Peter watched as the Witch was taken down by Aslan. All of a sudden the rushing world came to halt. Susan. Everything slowed down. He turned around and saw Susan, on the ground, her stomach crimson, and staining the surrounding earth that fatal color. He yelled in protest as he ran off in her direction.

He now knelt over his lovely sister, her face a mask of hurt as she lay curled fetally, hands trying to keep the blood in. Gently, Peter rolled her onto her back, ripped open her dress, to see the wound……..which was deep, gushing red, obviously mortal.

"God, no," Peter said softly. "No, no, this isn't happening…this can't happen…"

But it was- and he knew, and Susan knew it. Her eyes knew it. Frantically, Peter covered the wound with part of her shredded dress, holding on to it, applying pressure.

Peter looked down into his sister's face, her beautiful face, and her tired eyes.

"You're going to make it, Suze." He said while still keeping steady pressure on the wound. "You are strong. Just hold on, please."

Susan shook her head- a small, terrible gesture. She knew.

His mind spun in desperation. He didn't know how to save her, and that was killing him.

Susan was trying to speak.

Touching her full lips with two gentle fingers, he said, "No…no, don't say anything. Save your strength. I'll go get help… there must be…"

"Hold…hold me." She whispered.

Swallowing the lump that was growing in his throat, he held her, held her close, so close that even the Witch couldn't have pried them apart. "Darling…Susan…what can I do? How can I help you?"

Her lips were against his warm cheek. She said softly, "Take care of Edmund and Lucy."

Choking back tears, the young warrior held his sister away from him, just a little so that he could hold her eyes with his. He caressed her beautiful face with a blood stained hand. "Don't you dare leave us. We have so much left to do. I need you so much."

Susan managed to gather enough strength to give him one last smile. "I love you."

He kissed her gently. A kiss stronger than one of a brother and sister. In the middle of the kiss, she died.

He held her away from him, looking into those sky blue eyes one last time. The sparkle was gone from them. Gently, he closed them, she was still in his strong arms, and he held her tight, hugged her tight but the Witch one just the same.

After trying so hard to be brave and strong for her, he broke down as a sob escaped his lips. She was gone. His dear sister was dead. He didn't know how he could possibly still be there when she wasn't. He loved her more than he should have, and now she would never no. They wouldn't get to live out their lives together. She was never see another day. See her mother or father again. Be with Edmund or Lucy…

Lucy!

Peter's mind snapped into motion. Still holding his sister he yelled in a voice that could be heard over miles. "Lucy!"

TBC…Comments greatly appreciated.