Chapter: Prologue
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story except my original character.
A/N: Greetings, fellow Narnians! I'm so excited to finally be writing this down! Narnia has always (and probably always will be) been one of my favorite fandoms ever since I was younger. I'm very proud of this story and everything in it. Just a warning, in future chapters the rating might go up due to possible gore, fighting sequences, and other things similar to that. But it'll mostly be rated K+
Without further hesitation, here's my fanfiction!

"I don't believe I shall ever get used to wearing dresses, Mother," small Amber Rodgers told her mother as she looked at herself in her small bedroom mirror.
"All in time, my dear," Mother said in a relaxed tone. "Now hurry and put on your shoes and come downstairs. Your father and I will be waiting in the car for you." And with that, Amber's mother rose from her knees, kissed her daughter's cheek, and promptly exited the compact bedroom.
As her mother left, Amber stared at herself in the mirror, hesitating to move. She sighed and examined her face in the mirror. She had never felt like a very beautiful person before, though people had told her parents that she was, indeed, very becoming. But she had never truly felt very pretty. She could only see her faults and nothing else.
Her eyes were a dusty-blue and sort-of big—at least that's what Amber thought. She had a wider nose and a very light dust of freckles across the bridge of it. Her figure, actually, made other girls secretly envious—but Amber always saw herself as being the heavier side. As for her hair, it was a grown just underneath her breasts and was a natural sandy-blonde hue. She had a fair complexion with a few blemishes and a cream and peaches skin tone, which Amber did not find very attracting.
She was dressed up in a very fancy dress, a light blue one spotted with white polka-dots. And that was because today she and her parents were going to visit her mother's old school friend—who apparently had four children close to Amber's age. She didn't like to meet new people because that gave her a bit of social anxiety, and she was always self-conscious about her personality. Even at such a young age (she was about nine), she had so much hate for herself bottled up inside of her. And she couldn't—or at least she felt like she couldn't—because she felt as if people would laugh at her or just say that she was acting silly. But they wouldn't have and she wasn't.
After looking at herself for a while longer, Amber was snapped out of her thoughts as her father beeped his obnoxiously loud horn. She then remembered what her mother had told her to do. So she hastily slipped on her freshly shined black flats and hurried down the stairs and out the door.
Amber carelessly swung open the car door and quickly slammed it shut, muttering an apology to her parents about being late. As her father pulled the vehicle out of their narrow driveway, something jumped inside of Amber's stomach as she dreaded meeting her mother's friend and her children. Meeting new people was never her strongest attribute.
But sooner than she had expected, the car had pulled into a driveway, belonging to a small white house with a matching picket-fence. It was a very lovely house—Amber made a mental note of that.
Once her father took the car keys out of the ignition, that same nervous feeling twitched inside her stomach. She didn't want to meet anyone today. In fact, she didn't want to meet anyone ever! At least that's how she felt in that quick moment.
"We're here," Mr. Rodgers said with a grin, though Amber couldn't see it. "Now, are you sure this is the right address, Camellia?"
"I'm positive," Mrs. Rodgers spoke with a gentle tone. She breathed in and smiled in remembrance. "It's just as nice as I remember. I thought they had moved many years ago—I suppose I was wrong all along. Anyways! Let's hurry up to the front door. Come along, Amber."
Amber slowly opened her door and stepped out. She and her parents then proceeded to walk across a finely made stone path that lead to a seemingly freshly painted front porch. Soon the Rodgers were standing in front of the front door and rang the doorbell.
After only a few seconds of waiting, the door was opened by a tall male. "Hullo! Camellia, it's good to see you again! And you, as well, Ben!" The man greeted Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers with an embrace. Amber guessed that they had all known one another for quite some time. "Won't you come in please?"
Once the Rodgers were all inside, the door was shut behind them and they were greeted by a gorgeous brunette. "Camellia! It's so good to finally see you after all this time!" she said politely. She and Mrs. Rodgers greeted one another in a friendly embrace. "You too, Ben. And is this Amber you told me about over the phone, Camellia?"
"Yes, this is," Camellia said, placing a hand on her daughter's back.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mrs—" Amber froze. She didn't know her mother's friend's surname.
"Pevensie," Mrs. Rodgers said quietly.
"Mrs. Pevensie," Amber said quickly. Her cheeks suddenly turned a noticeable red and she backed into her mother.
"You too, Amber. Now would you all care to join us in the dining room?" Mrs. Pevensie asked. Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers both accepted graciously.
Entering into the lovely wallpapered dining room, Amber saw four children who were near her age, sitting in font of the large table. Their gaze fell upon Amber, making her turn ever so slightly pink. She didn't like it very much when strangers stared at her. It made her feel very self-conscious about herself.
"Children," Mrs. Pevensie began, "this is Amber. Amber, these are my children. The oldest is Peter—he's just four years older than you. And the next is Susan—that's her, over there; she's only three years older. Edmund is the second youngest—he's two years older. And the youngest is Lucy—and she's your age."
After the introductions were over, Amber took a seat next to Lucy. She appeared to be the most friendly one out of the four—at least in Amber's mind she was.
"Hullo," said Lucy to Amber.
"Hullo."
"I think Amber is a very pretty name."
"Why thank-you. I've actually always wanted to be called Lucy."
"How lovely!" exclaimed Lucy with a smile.
Lucy and Amber became better acquainted with one another. And as they got to know each other, Amber's self-consciousness began to slowly diminish. After the dinner, Mrs. Pevensie had the grand idea of the five children going outside. So they did.
"What do you think of our property?" asked Susan curiously.
"I think your house is ever so lovely, and I've never seen such a big backyard in all of my life!" admitted Amber. She was glad that the four Pevensies were fun and polite. Not self-centered or shy like she was imagining them being.
"I like the color of your dress," complimented Edmund. "It's my favorite."
"Why thank-you very much—it's mine too," thanked Amber.
"I can't believe we haven't met sooner," confessed Lucy after there had been a slight lull in the conversation.
"I know what you mean, Lu," agreed Peter. "And I don't think we've met in the past. I surely would have remembered you if we had."
The five had such a lovely conversation that evening as they wandered aimlessly around the yard. Amber had such a lovely time that it seemed to her that no time had passed when her mother called to her from the house, telling her she had to go.
Sadly, Amber said goodbye to her new good friends. And soon she was in her father's car, driving away down the street.