Title: A Sister's Love

Summary: She wanted to make him see the winter season in a different way. She wanted to make him feel the nights in a different way.

Disclaimer: Lewis's.

Author's note: This piece, I believe, is half-inspired by the excerpt below:

"Su…" he mumbled as he relaxed. It's just a nightmare, he thought though he didn't open his eyes yet. He was confident it was all over. His sister was here now. Any moment he would feel her fingers stroking his hair and her sweet voice singing him a Narnian lullaby.

He would never confess it, but he loved being comforted by his older sister whenever he had nightmares. He always pretended to be asleep whenever she came to sooth him so he wouldn't have to admit she let him do it. – Taken from Chapter One: Entrapment, The Great Galman Escape by Spouse of Orestes

Thanks a million to Spouse of Orestes for giving me the permission to re-print (or whatever) the excerpt above. :D

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A Sister's Love

Susan wrapped one arm around herself reflexively upon the sudden night chill as she closed Lucy's door behind her noiselessly. Her sister was sleeping soundly just beyond that door, so unaware that her older sister had left her bedside just a while ago. Susan wished she could stay a moment longer but she had one more charge to take care of before she could go to bed herself.

She hastened her pace to the next bedchamber where she should find her younger brother Edmund in his bed.

And upon reaching Edmund's double doors that would lead to his bedchambers, she found she was not the only one who was wide awake and worried of the younger ones.

She slowed down, deliberating whether she should check on Edmund that night when she saw Peter stood by one door that was ajar.

Whether it was just a brother's hunch or the sound of the rippling of her long night gown, Peter turned around and saw her. He smiled at once upon seeing her and she smiled gently back, thinking that maybe she should let Peter stay with Edmund to make sure he was sleeping soundly that night.

'Lucy's asleep?' he whispered when she was within earshot.

'Yes,' she replied shortly before added, 'is Edmund asleep?'

'Yes,' said Peter, 'I've gone and sat by his bedside for a quarter of hour or so … he seems fine.'

Edmund seemed fine. That was true. But abrupt changes swept Edmund off like a tidal wave and none of them, not even Susan saw that coming. From an awful brat, he had turned into a quiet well-mannered lad.

It all happened right after the Battle of Beruna … Susan mused, sighing inwardly, to be more specific, after we discovered Narnia within that wardrobe. Whether the changes were the effect from Lucy's cordial or the horrible wound, Susan couldn't exactly fathom which it was.

'You don't think he's going to have a nightmare tonight, do you?' Peter asked, looking at Susan worriedly. Susan tried to smile widely to convince her brother that Edmund was most probably wouldn't have another nightmare that night but she couldn't. Because truth to be told, she was not quite sure herself.

Edmund's quietness worsened their worries. He wouldn't tell them of his nightmares, even though they did try to ask him about it. Edmund just wouldn't want to open up. Susan herself couldn't remember really well on how she and Peter first came to know about Edmund's troubles of getting a good night sleep.

But it all happened after the Battle of Beruna. And it had been nearly a year now. They were the four sovereign rulers of Narnia now, and at such tender age, Susan still couldn't really adapt to her new life as a Queen. And she knew it was even worse for Peter as the High King.

Unlike Peter, who had to put learning the lessons on diplomacy as one of his number one priorities, she had clearly stated out that she had only one priority at the moment and that was protecting her siblings from any harm and making sure that they were comfortable and felt loved in any way she could.

The only familiar faces Susan saw there were her siblings. The only ones that loved her really dearly and knew her right from the tip of her hair to the tip of her toes were her siblings. Her family. She admitted that now, without them, she would die. And with them, she would live, even if she had to live without her mother.

For the first three months, she would keep vigil by their bedsides every night just to make sure they were fine being away from England. Though they were monarchs now and possessed such lavish castle and kingdom, it didn't really feel like home at all.

Especially without their mother.

Lucy would cry in her sleep, wanting their mother and Edmund would moan in his sleep, dreaming of something that he didn't want to share.

Only Lucy got over her trouble, though she would beg to sleep with Susan occasionally, especially during stormy nights. But not Edmund.

She looked up at Peter who was looking lost in thoughts himself and saw the grim circles around his eyes despite that the only source of light around there was the torches that were perched against the wall.

How she hated to see those grey circles. The grey circles that indicated how hard Peter's struggle was to learn to govern Narnia at such young age. The grey circles that indicated how many efforts he had put to make sure Narnia was not threatened by any mortal danger ever again. The grey circles that caused by many sleepless nights of trying to stay awake just to read the books he found in the library.

'Peter, go to sleep. I'll tend Edmund,' she whispered.

He blinked his eyes rather dazedly before a grateful expression came.

'Will you?'

Susan flung her arms around his neck and tiptoed to kiss him on his jaw line.

'Of course I will, silly,' she chided benignly and let him go, 'now go to sleep.'

'Thanks, Su,' he said with a grateful grin.

'Good night, Peter.'

'Good night.'

She watched his retreating back for another moment or so before slipping into Edmund's bedchamber and shut the door behind her. There was only one candle that was still burning faithfully by his bedside, flickering occasionally. She approached his bed slowly and heard his slow breathing.

Edmund was only twelve and to Susan, he didn't deserve to have such scarred past to haunt him every night. Because though Edmund didn't want to share his nightmares, Susan somehow knew what they were all about.

Winter. Coldness. The White Witch. A solid evidence to show that Edmund thought the winter was quite unnerving was just the other day when the snow flakes started to fall. All of them were practically beaming … all but Edmund, whose expression had turned extremely (even worse than usual) unfathomable at breakfast this morning.

He seemed to be interested more on his bread and creamy butter rather than looking out of one window to look at the falling snow flakes.

Susan felt her worries worsened and began to think of many ways to help Edmund indirectly. She tried to talk about Christmas but Edmund was not quite really into it. She tried to talk about making snow angels and snowmen but not prevailed.

She wanted to make him see the winter season in a different way. She wanted to make him feel the nights in a different way.

'No … don't, don't … no, please don't …'

Susan sighed wistfully and sat by his bedside.

Edmund had started to moan in his sleep again.

'Please, please … let me go … spare me ...'

Edmund rolled to his side and Susan took this chance to slip into his bed to lie right next to him. She pulled his blankets around them and wrapped one arm around her brother's waist and the other caressing his hair softly with his back on her.

'No …'

'Hush,' she whispered, kissing the top of his head and pulled him closer to her. Edmund stopped stirring at once as if knowing she was there but he continued to moan in his sleep, though his voice was beginning to sound very indistinct now.

Instead of singing the Narnia lullaby she had learnt from Mrs Beaver a few months ago, she started to speak in a low voice.

'Snow flakes … soft to touch, aren't they, dear? Why don't you try to see that as my gentle touch, Lucy's bubbly giggle and Peter's smile?'

She smiled slightly as she stared out at one window. The snow flakes were still falling faithfully right outside of that window and Susan could see them as the moonlight was quite bright that night.

'Pure and white … try to see that as our budding trust and faith for you, free from all doubts. Small but very abundant … try to see that as our love for you …'

Susan paused and heard no more moans. But neither did his slow breathing came. Somehow she felt that Edmund was quite … awake.

'Winter is short and beautiful … try to see that as your cherished dreams, hopes and memories … and life certainly has many unexpected turns, don't you think? But then again, life is no life if those aren't there …'

She kissed the top of his head again and this time she felt him stirred slightly but he didn't push her away or anything.

'My poor Edmund,' she said softly, 'you're safe now.'

'Am - am I really?' his small voice came and it sounded oddly muffled.

'You are and always will be,' Susan replied solemnly.

'Su, does this – does this mean that you do … love me?'

If Susan was shocked when she found Narnia within that wardrobe, she was even more shocked to hear him asking that.

'Edmund, don't you ever dare to ask me that question again,' she chided gently, 'of course I do. Now hush and try to go back to sleep…'

Not wanting to have her brother to feel the burden to reply to that, Susan started to sing this time as the snow flakes continued to fall from heavens, covering every nook and cranny of the blessed Narnia.

The End