A/N: So, this is my second story here and my first Narnia fanfiction. I started playing with the idea of a FF after I saw TVOTDT, so here it is. Since I haven't read the books since I was ten, and only read them once (although I loved them), this is a movie verse fic. I'm not a native English speaker; so there might be some mistakes in the text. If so, please don't spit it out and be an ass, just tell me nicely. Pairings will eventually be Edmund and Evangeline, my OC.

This story takes place after the DT, but since this is my story, Aslan has changes his mind and all the Pevensies will join us! Yay! So there will be some CaspianxSusan in here, and I don't really remember Liliandill from the books, and I really like Caspian and Susan as a couple, so she's not going to be nice in this story if she is allowed in. I'm not sure yet. Anyway, read on and push the review button and write something to me and I shall be very happy. And by the way, I'm trying to not make my character a Mary Sue, so please tell me if she's becoming one.

Chapter 1

And then they were two.

Evangeline looked down at the coffin, soon buried in brown dirt. Droplets of rain hit the wood, leaving a dark mark, like tears. The girl looked up at the sky, following each raindrop with her eyes until they hit the grass. She closed her eyes as one drop hit her right beneath the eyes, and she did not open them until her father pulled her hand slightly. She lowered her head and looked at the white rose she held in her hand, and then at the similar roses that had started to cover the coffin. Slowly, she lifted her hand and dropped the rose. The blue eyes belonging to the girl lingered for a while. They held a sad expression, and looked older than her seven years. Other people started walking away from the grave, chatting silently with each other. Some held a handkerchief between their fingers; others just wiped away their tears with their fingers. And some people didn't cry at all.

They were all sorry for her and her father's loss, or at least, that was what they said. Did they even know how to be sorry? Did they know how she felt? Did they know that she was going to be all alone with her father in their big, white house now without her moms tucking in when it was bedtime? Didn't they know how awkward her father did that? The person in question, her father, was standing beside her. He turned around and started to walk away from the fresh grave as the employees of the church started to throw dirt over the roses. She waited for a while, which caused her father to stop and wait for her.

"Evy, let's go." He called softly to his seven year old daughter, whom was still staring down at the roses.

"Come one, honey." This time the girl turned her head to look at her dad and she nodded slightly. With one last glance at her rose, which was almost buried in dirt, she turned around and walked to her father. Walking away from her mother, tears began running down her cheeks and Evangeline gripped her father's hand fiercely.

…

Ten years later, and that was the only time she had seen her mother's grave. She hadn't seen the head stone, either. She had left all that to her father, who had tried half-heartedly to include her. She had chosen the words that were written on the headstone, though, after much persuasion. "Her lies Mary Elizabeth Bancroft, beloved sister, wife and mother." And below that, a quote from one of her father's books. "And as nightfall comes over us, our love will still be strong. And as dawn breaks, you will be in our hearts." She loved that quote, and her mother had loved it as well. When she was younger, her mom would read extracts from her father's books to her. But never all of them; she would always say that one day, when she got older, she could read them. They could read them together, analyzing her father's words and then ask him if they had got that sentence right, and that metaphor, didn't that mean that?

Now seventeen, Evangeline Bancroft didn't look that much different than she had at the age of seven. Her hair was still strawberry blond, and her eyes were still dark blue. The only change in her appearance was her height and her body shape, which both now looked more womanly than it had looked ten years ago. She was still slightly awkward and clumsy, sceptical and a hopeless daydreamer. And she was still fonder of books than she was of actual people. She found the fictional characters more pleasant to be around, and she liked the fact that deep down they were all good people. Well, most of them were. Nonetheless, she was sitting in her room a snowy Saturday, surrounded by books and bored to death. She couldn't decide what to do. The weather was way too cold to go out for a walk, and she had already finished one book by today and visited every single blog she knew. So she had absolutely nothing to do. All her friends were either gone or too busy to talk to her, and to be honest, she would prefer spending the weekend on her own. Her dad was as usual sitting in his office, trying to plot down ideas for a new book.

She sighted and got up from her comfortable window bench. She put her phone in her pocket and started collecting some books. She took the three books under one arm and her computer under the other. Being as silent as she could, she opened her door and stepped out in the hallway. Her father's office and bedroom was right across hers, and he god forbid if something interrupted his work. He would look at her with his big eyes and an expression that screamed; "I am so disappointed in you, Evangeline Bancroft." Better to tip toe her way through the whole house than to get that look.

As she moved further away from her father's office, her paces sped up and soon she was running. Their house was big, and normally she would bump into her father's butler or her old nanny, now functioning as chef, but they were both given the day of. Finally she made it to the other end of the house, and looked up to at the ceiling. There it was the entrance to the loft. She looked around; making sure nobody saw her, before she lifted her hand and grabbed the handle to the small door. The door opened, and standing on her toes she grabbed the ladder with both hands. She tried a few times before she managed to drag it down, and then threw her books up in the loft before climbing up the stairs with her laptop securely held in her right hand. Once up, she put down her laptop and dragged the ladder up again, then closed the door.

She looked around with a content smile. This room, the loft, was as much her room as her bedroom downstairs. She had persuaded her dad a couple of years ago to allow her to paint the walls and ceiling white, to make the room brighter. I had become quite nice, actually. The window gave enough light during the day, so she didn't have to bring a flashlight up. For although she would deny it if anyone asked, Evangeline Bancroft was afraid of the dark. There were some carpets in the room, but other than that there wasn't a single piece of furniture expect for an old, antique wardrobe.

The wardrobe had always been fascinating to her, as it was the only thing in the house that hadn't been there for at least a hundred years or been bought new. There was another story being that wardrobe than the one she had in her room. Somebody else, maybe a lady had used it to store her dresses hundred years ago. Maybe, if she looked, she would find something that could reveal who and how the previous owners had been. Maybe, if she took a brief look she would find something. She considered the thought for a moment, but she decided not to. The wardrobe was probably dark. And that was reason enough for her not to do it.

Stepping away from the wardrobe, she sat down by the window and picked up one of the books. It was Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey. Flipping the book open on the first page, she started reading. Jane Austen was her favourite author, but she wouldn't tell her dad that. She liked his books a lot, but c'mon, nobody beats Jane Austen.

She read for a while, until she eventually got distracted from a loud noise coming from the wardrobe. She closed her book and got up, nervously watching the antique thing. It sounded like ... birds? In the middle of freaking January? And, not to mention, in her loft. Great. Now she was starting to hallucinate as well. Jumping several feet up in the air as another sound came from the wardrobe, she walked slowly against it. It couldn't be... it wasn't voices she had heard, was it? Just then she tripped over something and fell head first, finding herself placed right in front of the wardrobe.

"Shit!" She said as she turned her head to see what had caused her to fall down. With a sudden urge to slap herself in the face, or slamming her head against the wall, she looked at her old suitcase she had lost this summer. She had looked everywhere for that stupid thing! Sighing she got up and sat down by the suitcase. Opening it, she found herself amused. How could she not remember? It had been summer, July, if she was correct, and she had planned on going to the beach with some friends. She had packed her bathing suit and some books, but then it had started raining and the plan was cancelled. She had been picking up some books here when her friend called her, so she had apparently just left the suitcase her.

Looking at her watch, she realised it was time for her to go downstairs and starting making supper. Her dad had always been a hopeless cook, and to be honest, she wasn't better than him at all, but at least she knew how to make a chicken salad. But – she turned her head so her eyes were on the wardrobe. She did have time to figure out what was making that noise.

Tossing her computer and books in the suitcase, she grabbed it and started walking towards the closet, again. This time without anything that might cause her to fall headfirst. Standing in front of the big wardrobe, she was amazed how small it had looked and how big it actually was. Even when she jumped she couldn't reach the top. She grabbed to old-fashioned door handle and opened the door. Well, that was exiting. She thought. There was absolutely nothing in there, but the moment she was about to close the door, something caught her attention.

It was a bird, and a quite small bird. It was the kind of bird you saw sitting in the trees singing in the summer, not hiding in an antique wardrobe in January. It was extremely dark in the wardrobe, so she could hardly make out the bird, which was flying around. One moment it was near her, and then it flew to the other end of the closet. And back again. It was like the bird wanted her to follow. She hesitated at first, but the bird just continued its flight. So finally she gave in, taking a careful step in to the wardrobe. She gripped her suitcase properly, although she didn't know exactly what she needed that for in an old closet. But stepping in to the closet didn't make the bird less eager to show her whatever it wanted to show her, so she took another step, then another one, and another one. Why is it so dark in here? But she continued walking after the bird, but suddenly she stopped. This wasn't right. Or logical. Or... real.

She was standing in the middle of a forest, and certainly not in a closet. It looked as it was night already, or still... She didn't know. It was so dark, and a little cold. And not her loft. Panicking, she spun around, but the wardrobe was gone. Gone. Just. Fucking. Gone. How could a damned wardrobe disappear? She continued to scan the woods, but there was nothing except from some very tall trees. Where the hell was she?

Jumping, she spun around again and saw the bird. The bird... Something clicked in her mind. The bird had wanted her to follow in the wardrobe, so it was only logical that she should follow the bird now, right? It wasn't like she had no other idea to go, and she had to keep moving and try to keep her mind of the fact that she had no idea where she was other than she had come through a wardrobe. And to stop her from hyperventilating. Yeah, that would be logical. Highly logical. Oh sure, just keep telling yourself that. Highly logical that you came through a wardrobe... She shaked her head, clearing her mind. Just keep walking, follow the bird.

She stumbled through the woods. It seemed like the darkness was only getting darker, the trees taller and either the bird were speeding up, or she was slowing down. Okay, so she was probably slowing down. But she was tired. It had been late in the afternoon when she got up on the loft, and she had no idea for how long she had been reading when she walked through the... wardrobe. She was tired, hungry, completely exhausted and scared, and lonely, and... She sighted. Alone. Completely alone. All her company was some bird that was flying too her to keep up with. So when she stumbled in a root and fell down, she was too drained of energy so she didn't make an attempt to get up. She crawled into a tree and curled up against it. She blinked away a couple of tears, but her hand sunk down to the ground and before she even had the time to think about the sleeping now probably was a bad idea, she fell asleep.

A/N: I know, long chapter! Oh my god, I'm surprised by myself. Just don't expect the other chapters to be this long. I just wanted to properly introduce Evangeline and how she got to Narnia. And, please review! 3 Reviews keep me going, you know! I know I have to get better at reviewing the stories I actually read, but I promise, I will be better, and maybe you guys could motivate me to review more and write more? Anyway, to the story. (Yes, I write long AN's, I don't know why, though.) Soo, first I want to apologize for the swearing in this chapter, but seriously, if you went through a closet into a wood, and you was afraid of the dark, and it was dark, and you were tired, hungry, scared and exhausted, you would be thinking some pretty dark thoughts, right?

But, before I ruin everything with my nonsense, I'm going to end this AN. And once again, please review and tell me what you think! Any ideas would be extra love! 3

The Silent