The Last Night

A/N: This is a rewrite of the old The Last Night, which some of you may still remember. I was looking over it recently (it's amazing what I'll do to avoid studying for my final exams!) and I found myself feeling somewhat unsatisfied by the general lack of romance. I suppose at thirteen I shied away from that sort of thing. I'm not saying that I'm any better at seventeen, only that I realise that Jill and Eustace deserve a little more than handholding.

"Jill, besides being disgused with the Dwarfs, was very impressed with Eustace's victory over the Calormene and felt almost shy" – The Last Battle, chapter 8

"Eustace," Jill whispered.

Eustace rolled over and gave a groan. "What is it, Jill?"

"I can't sleep."

"Well at least let others sleep if they can!" he snapped, and Jill felt exceedingly hurt, and choked.

"Oh, don't start blubbing," said Eustace pettishly. He meant to be a great deal kinder, but that is exceedingly difficult to do when one has just been awoken from pleasant sleep. "You were yawning till I thought your head would come off, not long ago."

"I was so tired I couldn't sleep," Jill replied miserably, "and now I'm awake again."

Eustace patted her on the hand by way of apology before promptly falling asleep.

Boys.

Jill sniffed.

She had a great deal of reasons to be miserable. It was one of the coldest hours of the night, with dawn about to arrive in a few minutes, her stomach was growling (actually growling!) for food, and she was just realising now how hopeless it was that out of all the dwarves, only Poggin had believed them and followed.

And, worst still, Eustace hadn't said a kind word especially to her. Tirian paid her more attention. Tirian! She barely knew him. And yet he paid her more attention than Eustace. Something similar to a knot twisted in her stomach and she had a sudden urge to punch the wall- or better still, Eustace.

No, she didn't want to hit him. But why wasn't he paying her any attention? It wasn't fair, not at all. But he'd been so brave earlier-

She flushed.

Go to sleep and don't be silly, she thought furiously. Aslan sent you and Eustace here to help Narnia, not for you to be one of those silly girls. Next thing you know, you'll be turning into Susan.

Immediately a wave of guilt washed over her. She shouldn't have spoken of Susan like that. Even if she was obsessed with parties and lipsticks and nylons and boys - she couldn't be happy, could she? She was caught up in too many troubles, a whirlpool of troubles, and was bound to end up unhappy somehow or another.

But she, Jill, was unhappy too. Why? She was in Narnia! There was no reason to be unhappy. And even if she was unhappy- no, never mind that. She was in Narnia, and Aslan was with her, and that was all that really mattered. Even if-

Try to sleep, Jill, you'll need it, she thought, and closed her eyes.

"What would happen if we get killed here?"

"Well, we'll be dead, I suppose."

"But I mean, what will happen in our world? Shall we wake up and find ourselves back in that train? Or shall we just vanish and never be heard of anymore? Or shall we be dead in England?"

"I almost wish- no I don't, though."

"What were you going to say?"

"I was going to say I wished we'd never come. But I don't, I don't, I don't. Even if we are killed. I'd rather be killed fighting for Narnia than grow old and stupid at home and perhaps go about in a Bath chair and then die in the end just the same."

"Or be smashed up by the British Railways!"

She jerked upwards.

Smashed up by the British Railways! They'd been on a train, hadn't they, to go to meet the Pevensies?

She'd been on a train before. A dream in Narnia had taken her to a train, and a dream- or a vision- had led her to take the train that had brought her here, back to Narnia.

Smashed up the British Railways.

She shuddered.

Aslan wouldn't have sent her if everything was hopeless, would he?

Would he?

She remembered the Underland, when she and Eustace and Puddlgelum hadn't known if they would get home safely. "So long, Jill," Eustace had said.

She wondered what he would say should they enter a similar situation now.

"So long Jill!"

She would slap him if he said that.

But then, what would she have him say? Her cheeks coloured at the thought.

Well, it had been several years. Surely something a little more personal than "So long" was nothing too much to be asked for? It was a start. And-

But her mind was flying ahead of her.

You do not have the time, and this is not the place, Jill, she told herself sternly.

For inside, a sudden, strange feeling had gripped her heart; a suspicion that tonight, perhaps, might be her last night in Narnia.

Oh Aslan, she thought, come again, please!

But there was no answer, only the hoot of an owl going to hunt, and she fell into a fitful sleep.

In her dream, she was gliding on Glimfeather's wings, through a dark, starless night.

"Tu-whoo, tu-whoo,"he was saying. "It is a cold night. Hold onto me."

"Why is it so silent?" she whispered, but he merely kept flying.

Tu-whoo, tu-whoo!

They came to a garden barred by golden gates, and beyond it, Jill saw an apple tree. She wondered dimly if it was Professor Kirk's tree, but even as the thought crossed her mind, she was falling into the sound of a rushing river. A pure, beautiful song filled her to the brim till she felt like an overflowing cup…

The water spilled out from beyond her, and she found herself sitting in a waterfall, staring at a lion.

Aslan! she wanted to call, but it was not Aslan, so she kept searching.

Aslan, Aslan, Aslan, she thought, Please let us go into-

A blaze of sunshine poured through to meet her. She stood at the foot of smooth turf- smoother and brighter than she had seen, and a blue sky. And as she wandered through the hushed forest, breathing in the cool, crisp air, she knew where she was.

It was the mountaintop once more. Then she saw it; the cliff, where she had first entered Narnia, first met Aslan. The cliff where-

She jerked and screamed in horror.

Eustace was falling, hurtling to the depths.

Aslan! she thought desperately. Aslan, Aslan, Aslan!

But he didn't come. And Eustace kept falling- now he was a speck, passing through a cloud- a tiny brown dot, getting ever smaller and smaller…

"Eustace!" she screamed.

"Jill?"

There was a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she cried, blindly. "I'm sorry. Oh, Eustace! Aslan, why didn't you come?"

"Jill!"

She gasped and opened her eyes.

Eustace was leaning over her, his eyes filled with concern.

"Eustace," she sobbed, sitting up slowly. "Oh, why won't Aslan come?"

She buried her face into his shoulder.

"Shh, Jill," he whispered, rocking gently back and forth. "Aslan will come. He always does. He's faithful. It'll be all right. You'll see."

Dimly, she realised that his arms were around her shoulders, and that her own arms had somehow crept around his waist. She didn't know quite when this had occurred, or how, but it felt- somehow- right.

"It'll be all right," Eustace whispered once more, his breath hot in her ear. "You'll see."

She felt his face buried in her hair, his hands gently pulling her hair. Then his lips were pressed against her forehead, her cheek, then…

A smile broke across her face.

Eustace laughed, a low, gentle laugh.

"What is this time?" he murmured, and her smile widened so that her cheeks almost ached.

"Nothing," she said, and lightly kissed him once more.

He grinned.

"I rather like your nothing," he said, and she laughed.

Outside, the sun began creeping into the sky. A lone bird twittered in the distance.

Jill laid her head against Eustace's chest once more and relaxed. Against her will, her eyelids fell together, as though weighed down by lead.

Far far away, she felt Eustace slip his hand over hers.

"Good night, Jill," he whispered.

And she slept.