Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia, all characters, places, and related terms belong to C.S. Lewis. I claim ownership of Charles and the plot.
Author's Note: Nothing much to say except this is a one-shot and a sequel to "Childhood Fantasies…or Reality?"
Dedicated: For fledge, who gave me the idea… :)
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Alliance
Small dead trees, a pale white glow in the moonlight, stretch their thin, bare branches towards a seemingly invisible cave's entrance. Strange, deformed shadows, darker than the night, creep through the gnarled branches of the trees.
Inside, the cave is as silent as a tomb. Formless white phantoms sway on the walls. The cold wind whistles, curling and twisting as it swoops through the small cave opening. The phantoms and shadows grow still as the wind sweeps by. Journeying through the cave, the wind lingers in a far back, dark corner. Dark, tangled, unkempt hair gently rides the wind's back. As the wind withdraws, a head slowly rises and dark eyes open, gazing beyond the dirt wall, light-years into another time and place.
A slow smile spreads across Jadis's sunburned, dirtied face. Before her lingers another face, lighted by dancing flames: lips in a firm line, eyes filled with a fierce fire. There is grim satisfaction on the youth's face; yet Jadis is aware of the restlessness he feels. The satisfaction will soon wash away. He will become troubled. And the hatred – now only a tiny ember – will grow steadily, burning, scorching, consuming. In the darkness Jadis's dark eyes sparkle.
"Come to me, wind, my messenger!" The words come out as a soft whisper in the cavern, yet hard and bone chilling.
The wind howls as it answers its mistress's summons.
"You have done well, my servant," she praises. "Now, take this to the Son of Adam…," and here she places a cool kiss on her fingertips and blows it forth into the wind's grasp, "as a present from me. I can see he would be for our cause. Perhaps he can be of use…. Now go! Quickly!"
The wind gives a great howl, causing Jadis to shudder with glee. It races about the cave and out into the night. The shadows and phantoms sigh and cry in a dreadful chorus, with Jadis laughing wildly.
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Charles tosses in his bed. He cannot sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees that great lion staring at him with understanding, tears shining in its bright deep eyes. When he glances at the small portrait of Polly resting on the small table by his bed, he can clearly remember every drawing she drew of that boy…whom she longs for. Charles gnashes his teeth as a wave of anger and jealousy washes over him. Just who is the boy? he wonders. Is he from another world, or does he lives here in England? Is he unaware of Polly's fondness of him? Does she think he will never notice her? He has taken her from me.
Gently Charles touches his left cheek, no longer tender or painful; Polly's slap is only a memory now to him. I will have her still…somehow, Charles vows to himself.
The knowledge he will not lose Polly, along with thoughts of getting vengeance on the boy, fills him with happiness, sweet like honey. He sighs in contentment and at last feels drowsiness wash over him slowly. He burrows more under his blankets and closes his eyes, a tiny smile spreading across his face.
The curtains around his open window sway as a cool summer breeze drifts into the room. The roaring fire in the fireplace seems to shiver as the wind circles it. Quickly, quietly, mysteriously the leaping flames recoil, becoming smaller and smaller until they burn out, and only black smoke rises from the logs.
Charles shivers slightly as a little wind floats across his cheek like a caress.
"Charles…"
He frowns slightly. Was that the wind just whistling about the room? A chill races through him as he feels something like a kiss placed on his brow.
"Charles…"
His eyes open, darting about. He is certain it is no wind, but a real voice – a lady – calling his name. He sits up. Suddenly in the darkness he can make out a form standing at the end of his bed.
"Yes," he answers, his voice wavering a bit. "Who are you, my lady?"
"A friend, Charles. I understand your troubles. I might be able to help…," she answers.
"A friend? I have never met you," Charles says, puzzled.
"I have met you. I saw you as you were rudely, violently rejected. I saw you as you were frightened by those eyes that seemed to see through you. I was there as you looked at those drawings. I have met your lady, that beast, your rival…"
"Really? Who is he? Where is he?" Charles demands. A silence hangs in the air. "You have met Polly? And that…beast?" he shudders, unable to even call it a lion. "Are…are you from that other place?" he asks with awe, staring at the figure at the end of his bed.
"Yes, I am from that other place, where the beast rules with an iron fist," she answers. "I also hate him and long to wage war against him. Long have I hidden from him in the wilderness beyond his country. I dwell in caves and eat roots and berries, living like a wild animal. My kingdom is in ruins. My crown is shattered into thousands of pieces. My rich robes are nothing more than rags. Queen Jadis I am. In secret I have begun to gather those who swear allegiance to me, and one day I shall reenter Narnia and be Queen.
"But what is the greatest desire of your heart, Charles? Is it to find love where it will be gladly received and returned? Then come! I will show you dozens of ladies who are more beautiful than your Polly. They will welcome you with open arms. You can be great, a ruler. Come, what is it you long for?" she asks, and in the dark Charles sees her eyes glow a faint green.
"I will not let anyone have Polly except me!" Charles says passionately. "And I will have vengeance on the boy she wants. Then I shall be content."
The lady sighs heavily and is silent.
"What is it? What is the matter?" Charles asks, suspicious at her silence.
"What you hope to do shall not be easy to achieve. You have no hope of having the girl while the boy lives," the lady explains. "And he is protected by the beast. You would have to face him first to carry out your other tasks."
Charles's eyebrows knit together at this disturbing news. "Then Polly could possibly be in danger if she accepts the boy, if the beast watches over him!" Charles realizes, horrified.
"Yes."
"Thank you, great lady, for your warning. Now I am willing to face this beast if I can save Polly."
"Will you come with me? Together we will plot and destroy this beast, and we will get what we want," she offers.
The picture of the head of the beast comes unbidden to Charles, and he tries to push it away, scorning the tears it sheds. Suddenly he can see it roaming through fields of tall grass. It opens its large mouth and roars, its face appearing full of anger, and it stretches forth a huge paw. The vision disappears as Charles cries out.
"You have seen for yourself that the beast means harm; what sort of spell he cast on your girl that she drew him with such care, one can only guess. And she may have been bewitched and thus made oblivious to the faults of your rival," the lady says with conviction.
"Of course, you are right!" Charles exclaims, still shaken by his vision. "You have opened my eyes to the truth. I shall vanquish my enemies and save Polly. Lady, I beg you to allow me to fight for you. This beast has blinded Polly, but I will not be ensnared in its trap. You have my undying loyalties and service." He scrambles out of his bed and kneels before the lady. "Long live Jadis, Queen of Narnia!" he hails her.
An evil, victorious smile lights the lady's face as she nods. "Come, Charles. We have much to plan and do," she urges.
"Yes," he answers humbly.
He shivers as a frozen kiss is bestowed on his cheek. The wind whips about him, and he seems to fly on its back.
In the morning the butler comes into Charles's bedroom to discover him sprawled facedown on the floor.
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The dawn slowly chases away the night. Jadis stands in the cave's entrance, watching as the phantoms and shadows creep and float away. She turns to the boy who is as pale as death except for his hard black eyes.
"In time the lion shall fall, and we will have victory," she states firmly.
The boy grins with pleasure and nods eagerly before turning his gaze to the sky. And Polly will be safe and mine.
THE END
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