AN: Should I be updating Relic? Probably. But this little oneshot wouldn't leave me alone. One of my favorite authors (ruth baulding) wrote a story about falling in to the GFFA (It's called Writer's Block. if you like Star Wars at all, you will love this hilarious self insert) and I remembered an idea I had about falling into Narnia when I watched VODT. So here it is! I hope you enjoy!
I should probably just be thankful that it happened at all. Most people only dream of this kind of stuff happening. Yet blessed as I am, I sometimes wish that I could've had some semblence of control through it all. Let me tell you, Profesor Kirk wasn't kidding when he said "it'll probably happen when you're not looking for it." There are times I wish that the seven-year-old LadySaxophone in her footy pajamas had gotten into Narnia when she tried, strep throat and all.
But, I am not in charge of such things, and Thank the Lion for that. However, I can now prove that He does indeed have a sense of humor if you know what I mean.
I got in via waterslide. There was nothing special about said slide: no ethereal glow or pixie dust shimmers, or anything, just the promise of a very slight adrenaline rush and some summer fun. So when the lifeguard gave me the go ahead, I simply grinned and swung myself down.
Imagine my surprise when at the bottom of the slide I was not deposited into four feet of chlorine clear water, but rather into fathoms of blue-green salty seawater. With a ship coming at me. I've never before been so grateful to my mother for forcing me to take swimming lessons.
Of course, there were this awkward moment when I was lifted up onto the one and only Dawn Treader. Let me tell you, they value modesty in Narnia. All I could think was "Thank Aslan I'm not in a bikini." That would've been the only thing that could've made the situation worse.
However, I was dropped into one of the nicer realms of fiction. After all, behavior in Narnia is really not all that different than behaviour here. The simple rules "don't take candy from strangers" and "treat others with respect" simply have dire consequences when you break them. Barring any unforseen battles, any well brought up girl that has a good head on her shoulders can survive Narnia, Lion willing.
So I went into charm mode and I managed just fine, well, as fine as one can be on the Dawn Treader. But I knew my way around the plot line, and I kept my faith in Aslan. I earned my keep helping out in the kitchens, Lucy and I became fast friends, and who knew Edmund was a Shakespeare freak like me? I wasn't as annoying as Eustace (who could rival Anakin Skywalker with his incessant whining). And I managed to avoid becoming a freaky Mary Sue (quite a feat considering my two incredibly handsome and incredibly chivalrous shipmates) Quite frankly, I was rather proud of the way I'd handled the situation.
Until we reached the Dark Island.
Now, everyone was a little edgy approaching this particular Island. After all it was terribly dark, there was a weird moldy green mist floating around everywhere and if this really was the movie, I think the music would've gotten all forboding on us. You know what I'm talking about right?
Well, I was good right up until we picked up Santa's skinnier, crazier, twin. Yeah, the Lord Rhoop. He had that elusive seventh sword, and although he yelled like there was no tomorrow, I figured we were all set. Time for us to set things right in Narnia, sail off into the sunset (literally), finally meet Aslan, and have that gut wrenching farewell scene everyone was dreading.
Of course I was wrong, this fantasy realm may be gentler than say Middle Earth or even Wonderland, but it was not without it's challenges. Crazy Rhoop grabbed Caspian's shoulder and muttered in his best doomsday voice, "Do not let it know your fears, or it will become them!"
Before you start throwing around accusations, let me clarify something. If I say "don't think of elephants" what are you going to think of? So please don't point fingers when I confess that the image of what I'm deathly afraid of flashed through my mind.
I let out a little gasp as I realized what I had done, the kind of danger I'd put my beloved crew in.
"My lady, what did you just think of?" Edmund asked hurriedly, although he looked somewhat relieved, like he was glad that I'd been the one who's imagination had run away and not him.
Before I could answer a dozen or so shiny green sparks (a la Rasputin?) came to rest on the ships deck. I stepped back in fear.
And there they were: their claws raking against the wood as they scampered about; their bright, too intelligent, evil eyes alight with ferocious glee; their terrifying fangs gleaming in the eerie green light; thier hisses filling the silence.
A shrill, terrified scream rang through the air and it was only when I noticed everyone staring at me that I realized that I had uttered such a cry. I was beyond caring, however. Just like the regular version of these creatures, the furry terrors could literally smell my fear and they were attracted to it. They all advanced toward me, except the one Lucy was currently attempting to hug to death, the brave girl.
"Do not fret, my lady. We shall defeat them. No fear! No retreat!" shouted Reepicheep as he nimbly leapt atop my head, waving his needle-like sword to and fro in his swashbuckling manner. All I could think was at least someone is taking this seriously.
Because everybody else was laughing uproarously at me, like instead of damning them to the worst kind of torture, I'd brought along some sort of comic relief. Caspian was attempting to talk Reepicheep down from my head and Lucy was trying to placate the fiends by stroking thier fur.
Edmund just looked at me stunned.
"Cats." he muttered shaking his head, "Your greatest fear is a cat?"
It was, by far, the most embarressing part of my trip to Narnia.
