Helena Pevensie (Caspian Love Story)

24. The Hand of the Enemy

"We have to head to the ship," Caspian said softly, running a hand through her hair. Helena released a deep breath, her eyes closed as Caspian held her.

"I know," she sighed. Neither moved. Finally pulling away slightly, Caspian cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to her forehead. Without a word, they headed back through the dark forest.

.

The ship seemed dark and gloomy to Helena as she strapped her sword more tightly around her waist and fitted her daggers. She had passed a restless night seated on deck, staring out at the island. It wasn't until Caspian had come out for the morning that she went in to prepare for the battle to come. She tied her free-flowing hair into a tight braid before checking herself over one final time in the mirror. Releasing a deep breath from her nose, Helena met her own gaze. Despite the effort she put into appearing calm and ready, she could see the fear in her own eyes. She could feel her heart quaking in her chest. She could feel everything inside of her feeling as though she were but moments from being torn apart. Had Peter felt this way before battle? Had Edmund? Lucy?

A sudden harsh breath ripped through Helena's lips and she had to cover her mouth quickly to muffle another harsh gasp. Then another. And another. Tears pooled in her trapping eyes as she quickly forced herself to the ground, holding her head in her hands as she struggled to breathe through her hyperventilation. Hiding her head in her arms, she attempted to breathe like she had once been taught but nothing seemed to work. Each deep breath was inevitably cut off as she gasped harshly again, usually followed by several more in quick succession.

Helena was only vaguely aware of the sound of the door opening before a figure crouched beside her. "Helena?" Edmund said gently. She jumped, looking up at him as her breathing worsened. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he said soothingly. He kept his tone calm and his speech slow, contrasting sharply against her anxious state. "Breathe, Lena," he said kindly before demonstrating several exaggerated breaths. Helena tried. She breathed as deeply as she could but each time something cut through it and she began her hyperventilating cycle again.

Seeing that breathing wasn't going to work, Edmund said, "Helena, close your eyes." Once she had, he said gently, "I want you to picture your room back home in England." Helena was too busy trying to steady her breathing to question the oddity of the request. "Now, imagine you're sitting on your bed. The room is silent and still. Nothing is happening around you. There is no sound. Nothing. Everything is clean and tidy. Everything is okay." Slowly, painfully slowly, Helena's breathing evened out and she calmed enough to open her eyes. Edmund let out a small sigh, shifting to sit down beside her.

"How did you know how to do that?" Helena asked, taking a break from her breathing.

"Peter," Edmund explained. "He used to have panic attacks all the time. Once Dad left." Helena's breathing picked up slightly again. She calmed it down in a few minutes.

"I never knew," she said finally.

"He didn't want you to," Edmund admitted. "He never told anyone. I only found out because it's hard to hide that kind of stuff from someone you share a room with."

"I'm scared, Ed," Lena whispered, her voice breaking and a single tear slipping from her right eye. Glancing over at him, she said, "What if someone doesn't make it or-"

"Lena, we're all going to be okay," Edmund insisted. "Lucy and I are going to be okay. Caspian is going to be okay. Everything will be all right. I promise you."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Helena replied miserably, wiping away her tears.

"Come here," Edmund said. Helena didn't hesitate to accept his embrace as she began crying in earnest.

With a watery laugh, Helena asked, "How do you know how to help with panic attacks but not with tears?"

Edmund shrugged. "Panic attacks are easier. It's obvious why they're distressed. When you know someone is panicking, you can just address the panic, but if someone is crying it's a lot harder to help." After hesitating a moment, he said, "Helena, I think it might be best you stay here for the fight."

"No," Helena retorted. "If you lot are fighting then so am I. I just had a...a moment of weakness."

"Fear and panic is not weakness, Helena," Edmund replied. "It's just an emotion. Emotions aren't as groundbreaking as they're cracked up to be."

"Still, you're my baby brother," Helena said. "I won't leave you out there alone, okay?"

"I won't be-"

"Ed," Helena snapped.

"All right," he sighed. Irritably, he muttered, "I'm not that little."

Helena smiled, tightening her arms around him as she said, "You are to me." Edmund rolled his eyes.