"Nay, I suppose not," Susan murmurs. She notices it, oh aye-- she's well aware of what they're trying to do as they move to arrange themselves around her.

(too much protection makes you weak - you have to be able to stand)

She'll never speak a word of blame for what came before -- it were ka, ever and always that cruel wind, and naught else. But she understands well why they'd still do so now--

(we'd all protect her if we could)

-- and why Caspian would as well, being who he is, adventurer, king, and more beside--

(beloved)

--and oh, but she loves them for it, loves them deeply and lasting, the three who are here and the one who is not, as well.

(Roland I love thee)

Time seems almost to stretch oddly around them as they stand together so, and she'll never be certain sure how long has passed in what seems to her like one single, endless moment. And it's in that moment that Susan thinks that although Susannah (Detta) had been right in her warnings, she'd been wrong as well.

It's not about the way of the gun, say true, not here. It's love, she thinks, that makes all the difference, and it's love that will get them through the burning horror of this day's memory and what she fears is yet to come as the moon rises.

And that's what she says-- oh, so very soft, and yet so very clear, while she still can, before her mind's mazed again or worse. Susan leans close into the curve of Caspian's arm, and reaches to catch one of 'Bert's hands, and one of Alain's as well.

"I love thee, do'ee kennit? All of thee, say true."