Disclaimer: I don't own the Chronicles of Narnia. If I did… xD
Voyage through the Ages is rated "T" for violence and mild language use.
Voyage through the Ages
A Chronicles of Narnia Fanfiction
Prologue
There was something so appealing about fresh snow.
The young boy could sit there all day and watch the snowflakes fall gently; creating a soft layer of white that blanketed the London suburbs. With all this new ammo, he'd surely challenge his little brother to a (perhaps a bit one-sided) snowball fight the following morning. Maybe he'd make a snowman, although his sister would absolutely insist on it being a snowwoman, taking off the plain buttons and putting on sparkly stars. Or maybe he'd make snow angels. Maybe the best thing to do tomorrow was lie in the snow and watch the clouds. Yes, that sounded like a good plan.
Inside, in the warmth from the various fireplaces and the soothing smell from dinner roasting away in the oven, the family was bustling. About every five minutes the youth would hear cries or whines from his younger siblings, pestering his parents to do who-knows-what and who-knows-when. In order to give his mother somewhat of a break, he sat at the window, watching away. No one would miss him.
The boy breathed on the glass plane, grinning as he drew a girl with his finger in the condensation. He gave her a big mouth, drawing squinty eyebrows to boot. He'd of course, have to wipe it away before his Mum saw, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
His father stormed past, yelling something about dirty diapers and little toddlers who tried to play with their poop.
Yep, that sure sounded like his brother.
His mother, sounding flustered and frazzled, responded that he was out of luck and had to change the baby's diaper himself because certain little girls needed an audience for their fashion show, and oh by the way, don't get her started with the baby.
Yep, and that sounded like his sisters.
Every day was like this. Everything was about the younger children. So, he sat, in his room, alone. Eventually his parents would come in, apologize to him for being so busy, give him a quick peck on the cheek, and then proceed to care for the younger children again. He couldn't blame them. It wasn't their fault, and they weren't trying to ignore him, it's just what happened. Sometimes, he'd come home from school, and his mother would drag him on shopping trips for hours because he was the only one that actually behaved in public. Then she'd send him on basic tasks. If he tried to protest, she'd nearly break down and plead with him how she couldn't do it all alone.
He hated being the oldest.
The only time it was rewarding was when he pelted his two-year-old brother with an endless barrage of snowballs.
Revenge was oh-so-sweet.
I just wanna be anywhere but here.
Do you, my child?
The boy jerked out of his reverie, bright blue eyes wide. What was that? Did he hear something? Was he officially losing it?
"Mummy?" He asked quietly, although there was no way his mother could hear him—not like she'd come, anyways.
Do you want to go somewhere else? Some place where you are important?
The youth couldn't help but nod before he could stop himself. Beside him, on his dusty old nightstand, lay his beloved old teddy bear that his Daddy came home with one day. He instinctively reached for it, ignoring his Mummy's nagging that big boys didn't carry around stuffed animals.
"Who are you?"
A baseless question and he knew it. It just was so instinctive.
I'm right here, child.
"Teddy?" He asked incredulously, observing Teddy up and down frantically. Yes. He was talking to his teddy bear. He made a mental note to never tell his parents about this, because they'd probably ship him off to some correcting institution faster than he could rationalize it.
Do you?
Either Teddy's eyes were blinking, or the child drank a little too much hot cocoa.
Maybe he really was losing it.
"I want…I want Mummy and Daddy to play with me," he responded innocently.
I can promise you more than that. If you come with me, you can be the greatest king in history.
"King?" The lad didn't want that. He wasn't a leader. He was just…a little boy. All he wanted was his parents to spend a day caring for him, not his siblings. "I…I don't want…"
Admittedly, being a king would be a sweet gig. Maybe then he could make a proclamation that would make it socially acceptable for boys to carry around teddy bears. Oooh, he'd also insist on having a strict diet of chocolate.
"Maybe," he finally confessed sheepishly. "Being a king would be pretty nice."
So you have wished it, so it will be.
"What?" He cried aloud. Suddenly, a strange dizziness swept over him. He collapsed from the strain, desperately flailing about, trying to grab something concrete that would brace his fall. His room, normally a putrid, musky—yet somehow comforting—wood, rapidly transitioned into a deep pit of black.
"Mummy!" He screamed.
In the distant hallway, his mother bustled by, not noticing anything amiss.
His world went black.
A/N
The moment when you write completely the opposite of what you originally intended. Oh well, it works. It shouldn't be a secret who the little boy is, but what's happened to him?
Please leave a review! It would greatly make my day. :)
I hope you enjoyed the story and I'll see you in the first chapter! (This won't be posted until the first chapter's done, so it's like…nevermind. xD)
