A/N: Here's a new story I wrote, basically inspired by an experience I had just a few days back. I'm actually asthmatic and had a major attack a few nights back which led me into thinking, what if Susan Pevensie had a breathing-related problem? That was what inspired me to write this.

The main character is Susan who is dying of lung cancer, and this oneshot explores mainly her feelings and also those of her family who support her all the way long. Please do R&R! It fuels me to write more, and write better.

Now that I have sufficiently bored you with my long A/N, on to the story. :D

With Every Last Breath

The fight begins…

Gasp.

A lithe figure sat upon the faded futon, finding it increasingly harder to breathe. What had become a daily routine - hardly acknowledged yet so necessary - now turned into a herculean task; a challenge whose result pointed her only towards two roads – life, or death.
The pale light of the moon filtered in through the curtains, casting little silver patches upon the thick shaggy rug.

How beautiful.

How ironic that she had recognized its eternal beauty only now, in times of such agony.

Only he knew…

Every night, he heard as the gasps grew increasingly louder and watched helplessly as his sister fought for her life. He felt out of control and unsure of what to do. What to think. How to respond.

He always knew what was to be done and was known to set major political problems right. He wasn't bestowed with the title of The Magnificient High King for nothing. But watching his sister slip further and further away from them and being unable to do anything left him very vulnerable, an emotion that he, as a brother was a total stranger to.

Those horrid words…

The hospital was overflowing with patients – people ranging from the mere age of one to frail, wrinkled-up senior citizens who looked like they were on their last legs. Susan made her way towards the cancer department, waves of nausea washing over her. Please, let everything be alright. If not…
She didn't want to think of such a possibility.

Good afternoon, Miss Susan Pevensie.

Afternoon, Doctor.

She gave the doctor an apprehensive look. He looked back at her, sadness creeping out of his voice.

I'm afraid the tumor has grown too large for us to be able to do anything, Susan. You have about a few months; that is all I can say safely for now. Chemotherapy, in such a situation, will only eat you up faster than ever. I suggest-

Is there no hope? Are you telling me that I am to die, either now or later?

Without waiting for an answer, she wrenched apart the doors of the clinic and ran through the hospital like one possessed. She ran straight into the arms of her brother who was waiting for her and hung on to him tightly, quivering with sadness.

Those horrid words. They were uttered so calmly, yet had so many implications for the one who had to hear it. And that's when he knew…they were losing her.

She never lost faith…

Faith did not come to her naturally. Never would she forget those dark times when she had lost faith in all…herself, Narnia…even Aslan. But she was a reformed person now, and eagerly absorbed the virtue of faith from Lucy like how a desert cactus absorbed water. Only, in this case, Lucy had enough faith to share with her sister and much more.

She now went on with life as though nothing has happened, keeping her fears to herself and praying earnestly that, should anything happen to her and she could go on no more, her family wouldn't be shattered.

Every moment turned so precious…

Random moments, such as watching her sweaty brothers return from fencing practice and laughing together in the kitchen as she applied salve on their wounds; helping her little sister with her marvelous paintings and munching some warm, chocolate chip cookies at the same time or even having little meaningless conversations with her mother while the two prepared dinner became treasures, their value even surpassing that of the gifts given to three of the four Pevensie children on one very fateful Christmas in Narnia.

She began rediscovering her siblings in more ways than one and relived those memories o f their Golden Age in Narnia. She learnt that Peter, too, faced fear…the thought just seemed to strange, almost unbelievable. Edmund was experiencing love for the first time and that Lucy was secretly communicating with Aslan and had disclosed it from all her siblings, for the fear that they would consider her bizarre.

And she wept from within, for she never knew when the day would come for her to say goodbye to these forever. But the day was not that far.

The fight continues…

Whether on the university campus, at home or even during piano lessons, she ignored the snickering of a few classmates as well as the sympathy of others. 'I'm fine', she insists, an irritated edge creeping into her voice. They all came in a variety of packages and she did not want to spend what could possibly be her last few weeks in a whirlwind of sorrow, pity, ridicule and a hundred other unwanted feelings that came her way.

She desperately needed her friends, not sympathy. She needed someone to listen, not just hear with a nod of the head. So she shakes off all those who put on a patronizing air, taking deep, painful breaths all the time.

The fire is extinguished…

Breathe in. Breathe out.
It wasn't working!
Deep breathe in, and slowly release.

But it was in vain. An elephant stood on her chest, refusing to move. Refusing to budge. Tears fell fast from her eyes. Her resolve came crumbling down and she wept even harder, mourning for the loss that was sure to come now. The separation from her family. The memories she would never live to witness. Bidding farewell was just too hard, even for the one who was strongest of mind.

Who would Lucy turn to when she just needed an elder sister to talk to? Who would counsel the capable Edmund when it came to girl troubles? And their mother, who despite her immense strength cried her eyes out when the loss of her husband got to her? She would miss those long, deep conversations with Peter as they discussed every subject imaginable, from history to literature, role of women in politics to sport and much, much more. Peter and Susan shared a deep bond with each other, being the eldest children and having shouldered the burden of responsibility at ages far less than a child should.

Susan was an indispensible member of the family – was there recovery at all in her future?

It's so hard to say goodbye…

Her siblings rushed to her bedside. While her brothers tried to hide their fears and tears as well as possible, Lucy wept by her bedside. Not one of them ever imagined this would be their last moments together, torn apart by tragedy.

Aslan must know what he's doing.

But she's our sister, only twenty years old! Why must she be taken away from us at this tender age?

Roused by the sounds of crying that were being emitted from Susan's room, Helen Pevensie ran up frantically to Susan's room, only to witness the sight of her children surrounded around Susan's bed.

The moment had come. Susan could sense it.

Parting words…

'Mom,' she gasped, even that mono syllable word causing a huge setback in her already tedious breathing. "No, I have to say this," she insisted, noticing the look on the mother's face and wheezing some more.

"I love you so much, mom. I have nothing else to tell you except thanks; for all that you have done for me even though I wasn't the most co-operative daughter in the world. And thank you, for teaching me the art of make-up application too." There were weak chuckles all around. "Be strong, for Ed and Lucy and Pete. And give my love to Daddy when he returns. I know that he will, pretty soon, Mom. Keep faith."

"Lucy. You are a very special and talented kid, sweetie. Never underestimate yourself, Valiant sister. You sure have the makings of a fine person." Lucy clutched her sister's hand tightly and nodded, tears falling fast on Susan's cold hand who took a few shaky breaths before continuing.

"Edmund. I love you so much, you naughty fellow. Please try to fill my place by doing a few little things like painting with Lucy and chatting with Peter – I know that you are unique in your own way and also that I'm asking too much from you, but only with the knowledge that you are very capable. Be Just at all times…I know that it comes naturally to you." He nodded like Lucy, not trusting himself with words at the moment.

"Peter." Something caught in her throat and she was unable to move on. Instead, she held her arms outstretched. Peter, recognizing the gesture went and held his fragile sister in a long, sweet hug. No words were required between the two at that moment.

"You were always there for me," she whispered. "I am so grateful that I got you for my elder brother, Peter." Peter shook his head and silenced her by placing a finger on her lips. "No," he said firmly, the tears threatening to spill at any moment now from his cerulean orbs. "You were always there, watching my back whenever I got too rash with my decisions. I owe my life to you" he said, referring to a near-death accident that they had had in Narnia.

"I love you, oh Magnificent brother. I'll be watching over you."

The final seconds…

The tears that were threatening to spill finally gave way. With a cry of anguish, Peter extracted himself from Susan's arms and turned around to leave the room.

"Are you really going to leave me in my last seconds, after being by my side for so many years?"

He turned around guiltily at his sister's voice. She was right. How could he even consider leaving her, now?

The sight before his eyes astounded him. Susan no longer wore the tired, pained expression that she had carried with her for the past few months. Her face was a deathly white and she had the aura of an angel around her.

"Farewell, my lovely family."

At last, she was home...

A dazzling white light filled Susan's vision, and she felt oddly weightless, as though she were floating. Is this what death feels like?

Presently, she arrived at a forested area thick with fruit trees and more. A beach shone a few yards away and mermaids played in its cerulean waters whose colour matched that of the sea.

It cannot be.

"Welcome home at last, dear Susan. We have waited for this day for ever so long, when Narnia would have its Gentle Queen again."

Susan looked in astonishment at Caspian the 10th, for whom the flame of love burnt bright within her despite the fact that she was told she would never meet him again.

I am in Aslan's own country!

Caspian stood before her in all his kingly glory, bending low on one knee, one hand outstretched and clasping velvet box in the other.

"Queen Susan Pevensie the Gentle," he started, his voice thick with emotion. "My best friend, savior and the one I love the most. Will you marry me?"

A/N: There you go. That marks the end of this long one-shot (sniff sniff). I was almost crying the whole time I wrote, then typed this out! So please, please, REVIEW! Flying kisses from Caspian along with some Narnian dessert of your choice if you do. :D :D