In the Service of the Lion: Chronicles of Narnia\Assassin's Creed Crossover

Disclaimer: I own nothing of either of these franchises (I am a devoted fan of both), only the OC and the plot shifts.

Chapter 1

I, John Elder, Assassin of London, I ran out of the local Bank of England a few blocks from my apartment, having just killed its pedophile owner, who bloody well deserved the shivving I gave him, even if he didn't enjoy it!

I sighed once I was sure no one was chasing me, and turned into a local alley to catch my breath, humming 'Blue is the Color' as I leaned back against a brick wall in the shadows. They say dogs are Man's Best Friend, but the shadows are an Assassin's best mate!

I barely flinched as a Bobby ran by my alley, in the direction of the bank. Too slow, you sodding bastard, I thought, running my hands through my short black hair, my six-foot tall body still thrumming with adrenaline.

Once all was quiet (it took some time), I headed for home.

Ah, forgive my rudeness! My name is John Elder, son of Lewis and Dawn. To any unpracticed eye, we were your average Londoners.

My father worked in the Underground, a loving but tough man with black hair and grey eyes, my mother giving me her dark green eyes. Both were smart as a whip. My father was a calm and quiet man, while my Irish red-haired mother was temperamental and beautiful.

Beneath the image of your average Londoners, we were Assassins, and I was raised to be one. And I fucking loved the life!

However, When I was ten, my parents vanished, leaving nothing behind. There was no note, no signs of struggle. It was as if they weren't there to begin with.

That shook me, even today as my twenty-first year arrived a week ago. So I shut myself off from feeling anything. I killed, tortured, and kept everyone at bay. I tried to look for them, but could turn nothing up.

When I was sixteen, I was on a mission to kill a corrupt barrister when I was found by an old dear named Susan, a loving old woman named Ms. Pevensie who found me skulking around the Old Bailey. Taking me by the ear, she brought me to her flat in London. After a stern lecture, and a well-needed dinner, I found myself coming back to her flat again and again.

Ms. Pevensie became another mother to me, taming the Assassin within me through warm but austere patience and the maternal love that I had missed in my mother, I became the family she had lost in a train accident years ago. I was a seedy (hey, being alone changes a bloke) and angry young bloke, and she brought me kicking and screaming from the darkness I had surrounded myself with. I never realized how traumatizing my parent's disappearance was until I met her. It was she who brought me to my first church service too (the London New Church), but only she and I knew I would attend it from time to time.

I was thrown into the shit even more when she passed of old age a year ago. She was my one light, and when she was gone, I turned back into the Assassin I was born to be. I was so terrifying that everybody called me 'the Shadow'. And I was all out of fucks to give, and I wanted to kill and hurt as many Abstergo bastards as I could before they took me out.

It was the year 2019, in the cold of January, that everything changed for good.

I was walking along the side-walk, listening to music from my ipad, heading for home after a day at the Tower (what? I loved that place!), and I was crossing one of the many streets when I heard a honking car-horn and screeching tires, and my instinct kicked in a second too late, the car hitting me squarely in the chest. I would never know that a fucking yank, who was new to driving in bleeding London. was behind the wheel. Neat trick, that!

I was flung to the ground, and I lay unmoving on the cobblestones as the car's door opened, blood pooling around me. My blood. I was dying.

Before the darkness claimed me, I found myself wondering what was next.

I woke up in a grassy plain, with mountains in the far east, and forest to the west. The sky was as blue as could be, and I gasped in shock as I saw a lion the size of a horse standing over me. Huge and majestic, terrible and strong, his golden eyes watching my every movement.

"Oh, good. You are finally awake." The lion said, it's deep voice full of a warmth and love that seemed to permeate from it.

"Where am I? What are you? How did I get here?" I asked, trying to look for a weapon, but found none.

The lion smiled. "Peace. You are, as they say in the natural world, dead. That dream has ended, John. This is the morning. I am Aslan."

I snorted. "Bollocks!"

The lion shook his head. "Oh ye of little faith."

I raised an eyebrow. I was still in my hooded black leather jacket, light blue jeans, and worn combat boots that my dad had worn when he was fighting in Desert Storm against Saddam Hussein. "I heard that once from a child-diddling priest, right before I topped him off."

The lion sighed. "He was no man of mine. The only ones you have met who had come close to being of my church is that sanctuary in London. The Michael Church was its name, and it is blessed beyond measure, as is all others who teach its doctrines."

I took a step back. "How do you know-"

"I know you, and all things. I made you in the womb. I have wept for you, loved you, and defended you. I am known by many names, but you know me as Jesus Christ." I flinched as he morphed into a dark-haired Jewish-looking man, dressed in a robe of pure white. His love and wisdom remained, and the force of both flung me to my knees.

"I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, the First and the Last. I am the Resurrection and the Light. He who believes in Me, though he should die, shall live. Do you believe this is true?"

I took deep breaths, tears streaming from my cheeks. The words I had longed to shout in church burst forth as my cold armor of not giving a fuck vanished in His light. "Why? Why did all of this happen to me? Why do you care about someone like me?"

Hands enfolded me in a hug that had me screaming in grief. The love, the pure love in it was indescribable. "Because I believe you can love again, my sweet boy. And so do you. You have done terrible things, but with the mission I entrust you with now will bring you back to me. Everything you have ever done has led to here. Can you complete this task for me?"

After I had composed myself, Christ then told me the history of the land of Narnia, from Digory to the reign of the White Witch.

"So you need me to kill her, Father?" The Savior of all man-kind smiled, and tapped my head with his finger. "You will understand shortly. I am sending you to Lantern Waste. Jadis, the self-professed Queen of Narnia, has kept Narnia in winter for many a year, and I am coming soon. In order to do so, I need you to protect four children who are the future Kings and Queens of Narnia. They have come from London, and they will need help in order to survive."

I frowned. "I understand, but how will four children make any difference?"

Jehovah smiled. "All will become clearer with time. I am always with you, and you shall see me very soon. If any creature of Narnia asks who you are, tell them that you are my Right Hand. Are you ready?"

I nodded, donning my hood. "Let's have it!" I gasped at a warm sensation on my left arm, and saw the tattoo of a lion spreading along my entire arm, from shoulder to wrist. "So that all may know who you serve. You have always been worthy, my dear child. When any ask, refer to me as a Lion." Christ said, returning to the body of a lion.

With that, the Lion laid a paw on my forehead, and my vision went white.

A second later, I was standing by a lamp post that was stuck into the ground in the middle of a grove of trees. On each wrist was a Hidden Dagger, the mark of a Master Assassin. And it was knacking freezing.

I looked out over the snowy woods, and turned on my Eagle Vision. "Now, let's find these kids-" I muttered, then stopped as I heard voices nearby.

I hid behind a tree, and saw the four children being led by...a walking, talking, beaver. Oh, wouldn't you believe it!

He was saying something about taking them to his Dam, and I approached them. The beaver turned in surprise, and the children did too.

"Top of the day, chaps!"

The oldest looking one, a tall blond young man of perhaps sixteen, stepped in front of the other children. "And who are you?" He demanded. The boy had an air of authority about him that I suppose came with being the eldest.

"My name is John Elder, Servant and Right Hand of The Lion, Aslan."

The beaver's jaw dropped, but the children looked confused. "What the deuce are you out here? You should be hiding, you blighter!"

I shrugged at the beaver, who had just spoken. "I didn't have a choice. I just arrived, yeah?"

I looked over the children in question. There were two boys and two girls. The other boy, perhaps thirteen, was small and slight, with dark hair and eyes that squinted suspiciously at me.

The taller girl, looking about as old as the first boy, watched me carefully, her light blue eyes and long dark hair made her quite the beauty. There was something familiar about her, her eyes and gentle air reminding me of someone, but I dismissed that.

The littlest one, a girl with short dark hair and brown eyes, walked over and smiled up at me. She had a vibrant air about her, a strong presence that belied her age, which could be no more than ten. "Hello, John. I'm Lucy. Is that a London accent I hear?"

I nodded, removing my hood. "It is, Lucy. I'm from near Smithsfield."

The blond one stepped forward, and shook my hand. "I'm Peter." The dark-haired older girl introduced herself as Susan, and Peter introduced me to Edmund, the younger boy, who was glaring at me with distrust. Little shit. Then again, I couldn't blame them.

All four looked over the stranger. He was much older than them. He had bushy black hair, an oval face with high cheek-bones, deep emerald eyes, was very tall, and had a sad and detached smile.

"We're from Finchley, but we are staying in the country for now. This is so interesting!" Lucy said, and took the enormous right hand of older man in hers as we followed the male Beaver to his acceptably built dam at the edge of a large river, which was frozen with ice.

Susan sighed, and Peter chuckled. Lucy was very trusting, but also a good judge of character. She also had the gift of making friends quickly, and rarely did Lucy fail to have people practically eating from her hand.

As they approached the dam, Susan touched Peter's shoulder. "I don't like this, Peter. First the wardrobe, and now we have an Assassin guarding us. They're killers, aren't they?"

Peter nodded, his eyes on the person in question, whom Lucy seemed to trust so quickly. "I know, but I want to get to the bottom of this. Besides, he doesn't seem like he's up for hurting us."

Edmund was not listening, looking at the far-away palace between two small hills that the Queen had indicated to him. All he wanted was more Turkish Delight!

"There is home sweet home." The Beaver said, and Lucy gasped. "Oh, what a beautiful dam, Mr. Beaver! Isn't it lovely, John?" I grunted and nodded, silently hoping that it was safe to be in.

"Merely a trifle." The creature said modestly.

Another Beaver emerged from a hut next to the dam, and I tensed slightly. "Is that you, Beaver? I find out you've been out with Badger again, I'll...Oh, they're not Badgers. I never thought I would see this day."

She finished, looking us over. Her beady eyes were warm and welcoming, then she bemoaned the state of her fur before ushering us inside.

After we ate an acceptionally delicious meal, the serious talking began.

"Is there nothing we can do about Mr. Tumnus?" Peter asked the room.

I raised my eyebrows, and Susan, who was sitting next to me, explained that a Fawn had befriended then protected Lucy from the White Witch, and had been arrested for doing so.

It was nice of him, but not very smart.

"Well, there is hope for him." Mrs. Beaver said, and her husband nodded. "Yeah, now that Aslan is on the move."

Edmund frowned. "Who's Aslan?" Mr. Beaver started to laugh. "Aslan...you silly little blighter!"

His wife nudged him, and he stopped laughing. "You don't know, do you?"

I nodded. "I do. I've seen Him, and recieved orders from him." Both Beavers were stunned, and the four children turned to me.

"What is he like?" More than one voice asked, and I smiled. "A beautiful lion, big as a horse. His golden mane sparkles, and his eyes are full of such love and wisdom that I could never find any words to describe."

I looked around at the faces around me as I spoke His name. Susan and Lucy had looks of wonder and rapture, their faces full of longing and love.

Peter seemed to sit straighter, and there was strength and bravery in his eyes.

Edmund had a look of fear, almost loathing in his eyes. What was up his arse?

The Beaver's eyes were misty and they gripped each other's paws.

I paused, then showed them the tattoo on my arm. "I work in the dark to serve the Light. I am an Assassin, in the service of the Lion, His Right Hand."

There was a moment of silence, then Mr. Beaver said, "Now that Aslan is on the move, the Witch's magic may be weakening."

I nodded. "Oh, it will weaken a bloody sight faster when I've shoved my steel right up her-"

Susan sighed impatiently, kicking me under the table before speaking to the beavers. "All right, so he is a Lion, but I want to know why we are here, the four of us!"

Mr. Beaver paused. "Well, there has been a prophecy in Narnia about two sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve coming to rid us of the Witch for good. It is said that Narnia is never right except when a Son of Adam is king, and that when Adam's flesh and Adams bone shall sit on the throne, the Witch's magic will be over and done! This tale speaks of Aslan: 'Wrong will be right when Aslan comes in sight. As the sound of His roar, sorrows shall be no more. When He bears His teeth, winter shall meet its death, and when He shakes His mane, we shall have spring again.' You will understand when you'll see Him."

I raised my eyebrows, now realizing why I had been told by God to protect these kids, the whole of Narnia being dependant on their survival. From Assassin to glorified nurse-maid. It was like Christmas!

Susan snorted. "And you think this prophecy means us? We are just children!"

I looked at her. "Why else would I be sent to protect you?"

Susan glared at me. "You are not setting a good example-"

I cut her off. "Now is not the time for such rubbish. You four are here for a reason, and as far as I'm concerned, that is that!"

Mr. Beaver pointed to me. "Well said!"

I stopped my staring contest with Susan long enough to wink at him.

Susan stood. "Look, I'm sorry, but we really must get back home. Where's Edmund?" She finished, and I realized that the boy was no longer there. Why, that sneaker little shit!

We rushed outside in time to see a lonely figure far away, moving in the direction of the far off castle. Calling him proved unsuccessful, and I knew he was too far away to hear, and too far gone to bring him back. Spiffing. One down, three to go.

Mr. Beaver and I had to hold back Peter from trying the latter. After a moment of loud arguing between the elder kids and the Beavers, Lucy cut them off. "Stop it! This is not going to help Edmund or Mr. Tumnus!"

Peter nodded. "You're right, Lu. Only Aslan can help us get him back."

I sighed, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Buck-teeth is right. When we get to Him, I'll drag the little squirt out myself, yeah?" I felt sick at my misjudgment. I should have kept a better eye on the tyke, but it was too late now.

Peter nodded, and I sighed as Beaver said, "Has your brother been to Narnia before?" Apparently, he had been with Lucy once, although he had lied about it, saying he had not done so. Piss-faced little twat.

"That means he must've met the Witch." I said, and looked at the two Beavers. "We've got to get out of here, right the hell now."

As we reentered the hut, watching Mr. and Mrs. Beaver fuss and argue over supplies, I turned to the three remaining children, and sighed. "I know this is all complicated and scary for you, but I need you to keep moving no matter what. There might come a time when I have to hold them off, and if that does happen, follow the Beavers."

Peter shook his head, and I almost smiled at the bravery, or stupidity, in his blue eyes. "I'm not one for running."

I could not hold back a smile. "I appreciate the support, hero, but I'm the one who should do the fighting. Good on you for stepping up, though." Peter smiled back, and Susan interrupted us. "Well, if you're going to be around us much of the time, it's high time we got to know each other."

I smiled at her. "Of course, luv. Let's do that once we're clear of danger."

We had to move quickly, and the Beavers took us through an underground tunnel that supposedly led to safety. No sooner had they gotten in then a pack of wolves burst through the door.

"Go!" I shouted, knowing when to run when the numbers weren't on my side. I threw myself into the hole, but I yelled and swore as a pair of sharp fangs fastened themselves on my right ankle. I stabbed it with one of my blades, making it yelp and spring back as I closed the trap-door.

A few minutes later, we came out of the tunnel, only to face a few small animals which were now stone.

"He was my best mate!" Mr. Beaver said sadly.

"What happened to them?" Susan asked.

"This is what happens to the enemies of the White Witch." A new voice said, a fox emerging from the underbrush.

"If you're one of them, I could do with some fox-furred mittens!" I growled, starting towards the creature, who chuckled as I favored my foot, which was bleeding copiously.

"Relax. I'm one of the good guys. You don't look to good at the moment, do you?"

Mr. Beaver did not look convinced, pushing me aside with surprising strength as his wife held him back from killing the flea-bait. "Yeah? You look awfully like one of the bad ones!"

The fox shrugged. "An unfortunate family resemblance, but we can discuss family breeding later. Right now you need to move."

I gestured to my charges. "They can leave, but I want to take on our pursuers." The reply was instant, and came from everyone. "No!"

I raised my eyebrows, and the fox elaborated. "Laying aside the fact you're hurt, The White Witch wants you dead every bit as much as she wants the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve on her side."

I sighed, and nodded. "Fine, then. What do you have in mind?" The fox smiled.

About ten minutes later, a pack of wolves came tearing from the direction of the Dam, surrounding the brave but silver-tongued fox, who stood his ground.

"Evening, gents! Lost something, have we?"

The leader, a large beast with huge sharp teeth, replied: "Don't patronize me! I know where your alliegance lies. We are looking for some humans."

The fox snorted. "Humans in Narnia! Now that's some valuable information-" He yelped as one of the wolves caught him by the scruff of his neck in its teeth, and Lucy cried out while Peter shushed her.

I yearned to kill the beasts right now, but Susan rested her hand on my shoulder to warn me against doing anything.

After a short exchange, the fox gave them false directions, and the wolves charged off in that direction, leaving one behind to finish the fox.

"Don't make a sound." I said to Susan, then whispered to the others, "It's time I entered the game. Cover Lucy's eyes, Peter!"

With that, I ignored Susan's glare and dropped from the trees, landing directly on top of the would-be killer, giving it a quick death with my Hidden Blade. With a yelp, the wolf went limp.

"I wish you would've let me top them off." I said, watching as Mrs. Beaver tended to the injured fox.

"It's been generations since we have had any sign of things getting better." The fox said to me. "Now that Aslan is on the move, and you here as well as the The Four, perhaps this is the moment to take a few risks. And I wish their bark was worse than their bite!" He finished with a grimace, as Mrs. Beaver finished tending to him.

"Will you stop fidgeting? You're worse than Beaver on bath day!" Mrs. Beaver groused.

Mr. Beaver grimaced at us. "Worst day of the year!" I chuckled, as the fox stood back up. "Well, I am afraid that is all the healing I have time for."

Susan frowned. "You're leaving?"

The fox nodded. "It has been a pleasure, my Queen. I have been asked by Aslan himself to gather more troops. In the meantime, Right Hand, I assume your duty is to protect them against the White Witch, so I will leave you to it."

Susan shook her head. "We aren't planning on fighting any witch."

I winced, as the fox looked to Peter. "Surely, King Peter..."

Peter sighed. "We just want to get our brother back." I felt like shaking the boy, or at least make him realize how serious things had become.

"My Lord?" The fox asked, looking to me.

I sighed, shaking my head. "I will bring them safely to Aslan, then we'll sort things out."

The fox nodded, and galloped through the trees, towards the east.

I avoided the accusing eyes of Susan, who wasn't too pleased with me at the moment, either by my killing or my most recent decision.

I had already rid myself of the body of the wolf, and I told the worried girls that they could tend to me after I felt like we were out of both the frying pan and the fire. My Shadow Senses told me otherwise, and that we needed to keep moving.

Peter was watching me, his eyes contemplating and calculating. He and Mr. Beaver would have done the same thing, and Peter had a strong heart. I considered him for a moment. He carried himself with an air of confidence and authority, but courage and charisma as well.

"Was that really necessary?" Susan stood beside me, her eyes burning with anger. If she had been seventy years older, I would not have been able to tell the difference between her and Ms. Pevensie.

I frowned at her. "Would you rather the fox have died instead? I made the right decision." I said coldly, as the beavers directed us through the woods.

"I'm not talking about that! Who do you think you are, making such decisions for us? You've got some bloody nerve!" Susan hissed, as we continued to follow the beavers.

"I'm the one who is sodding guarding you, that's who I think I bleeding am. There are things going on that we can't avoid, and I'll do what I have to do to protect you. If it means taking lives, I'll do it. Do you actually think that I like killing?"

Susan sniffed. "Well, you are an assassin, aren't you?" I gritted my teeth, my patience running thin, but I also felt my disquiet growing. I had had very similar arguments like this with Ms. Pevensie, and the similarities between them was getting alarming.

Peter, who was in front, gave us a glare of reproach. "Drop it, the both of you, or somebody will hear us!"

To change the subject, I looked at Lucy. "You said you were from Finchley, but you were living in the country, yeah? Are you on vacation, or something?"

Lucy looked at me oddly. "It's because of the war, John. We were sent to the country because of the German bombings."

I frowned. "The Germans? The Germans haven't attacked us in about eighty."

The kids stopped short, all three looking up at me in alarm, Peter speaking first. "What are you talking about? Our boys are fighting against the Nazis! John, you're not making any sense at all."

Susan, who had been quiet until now, asked, "John, when were you born?"

I looked at her. "2003. What about you?"

Lucy gasped, Peter looked ill, and Susan's jaw dropped, replying almost half a minute late. "1924, and it's 1940 where we three are from."

For a long minute, we stared around at each other, until Mr. Beaver shouted back at us, "We have to keep moving! The trees are on her side, remember!"

We moved automatically, then Peter spoke after a minute, "Who wins the war?"

I smiled. "We did, in 1945."

The next question was one I would remember for a long time: "Our father is fighting the Germans in France, a Captain Pevensie. Do you know anything about him?"

Susan watched as the man stiffen, and strangely turn to her, gazing at her, as if truly seeing her for the first time.

A few seconds later, he turned to Peter, and shook his head. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help. If your father is like his you, Peter, I'm sure he will come home unscarred."

Lucy beamed, and Peter smiled with pride, the former hugging the young time traveler around the waist as the tall man grimaced in pain.

Susan, however, knew he wasn't being completely honest about it something. She would get the whole truth out of him, Assassin or not!

We stopped under a large log for the night some hours later, and I kept watch as they slept.

There were so many thoughts running through my head, and I was still reeling from the shock of realizing that the older Pevensie girl, who was as beautiful as she was intelligent, was the very Pevensie that had taken me in after my parents died, albiet almost seventy years older than the young woman that I was now guarding.

"John? Can I take a look at your foot now?"

I smiled. Speak of the devil. I rolled up my pant leg, and winced when I saw the blood leak freely from the bite marks. I hope infection wasn't going to be a problem

She used snow as water to wash the blood away before I tore off a piece of my robe for a bandage. "You can start by telling me why you've been pale and shaky since you found out about our surname."

I chuckled weakly. "There is no stopping you, is there?" I looked down at her, and told her everything.

Susan stood there for a long moment after I had finished. "I'm sorry, but it seems so farfetched." She said, and I shrugged in answer.

After another moment, she pulled me into a hug. "I'm so sorry that you have lost so much."

I blinked away the tears in my eyes, returning the hug. "I've found you again, Miss Pevensie, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you or your siblings, including Edmund. That's a promise."

Susan smiled, suddenly feeling as though things would work out, after all. And she knew she wasn't the only Pevensie that had heard his story, by the looks of it, with Peter and Lucy were listening in, though their eyes were closed.

"My name is Susan." She corrected, and hugged the admittedly extraordinarily-handsome young man before falling asleep, her head resting on his right shoulder.

I kissed her forehead, then after a moment, I allowed sleep to take me as well.

Maybe things would work out, maybe not, but I was never going to let any creature harm my wards...my kids.

My dreams that night were very interesting and unsettling.

"I will rise again, in another millenia, and you won't be able to stop me!" The great serpent snarled, as my hands locked him away in the bottom of the earth, in a bottomless pit.

"My Father will always stop you, Satan! That is my destiny: to be in His service, and fight you wherever you appear!"

The serpent of old, the enemy of God, glared hatefully at me. "This is not the end, Michael! You and your angels will never know peace while evil exists!"

I smirked, my white robe flapped in the breeze, as I sheathed my sword, a huge two-handed, double-edged weapon that all demons feared and hated.

"Of course not! Then everything would be boring otherwise. Now go to hell where you belong, Lucifer!"

The enraged behemoth screamed until silenced by the closing of the underground pit.

"Until we meet again, my oldest foe." I said, turning away from the Pit. I had One thousand years to wait for the demon, and I wasn't going to waste them!

I opened my eyes, breathing heavily. What was that?

I glanced down at the sleeping Pevensies, Susan's head still on my shoulder. Good, I had not woken them, but I had alot of questions, and only God could answer them!

REWRITE ALERT!