Songs of Winter
A Chronicles of Narnia Songfic Collection
Chapter One
Don't Panic
AN: As most first chapters are, this is not very good, and mostly goes off of the movie – but that will change in later chapters (I promise). Sorry if it's not to your liking. I tried to do this in the style of the song: vague, rushed, a little heedless. Ironically enough – panicked. Please review; constructive criticism appreciated.
Don't Panic
Bones, sinking like stones, all that we've fought for
Home, places we've grown, all of us are done for
We live in a beautiful world, yeah we do, yeah we do
We live in a beautiful world
They were riding. It was the end of fall and the beginning of winter in western Narnia. The trees were illuminated with different colors, and the shadows danced across the ground. Their riding apparel kept them warm in the brisk atmosphere. It was colder than it had been in many years, since the war had been won, since the winter had been banished after a reign that had lasted too long. In many ways, this was just an ordinary hunting party, but the prize would be different. They had begun with hounds and courtiers, a rather grand hunting party, but the others had tired. Soon it just the four of them, together, and it was silent but for the sound of their own Horses' hooves crackling on the freshly fallen leaves. The air itself carried a sense of change.
They were crawling. They tied their trusty steeds to the saplings – knowing that escape, if necessary, was possible simply by rearing and snapping the trees – and hurried into the low bushes for further pursuit. There was now instilled in them a great desire to fulfill the legends they had been told about this creature, to have their wishes granted. They forced their way into a wood, where everything was overgrown. Small burrs snagged on their clothes and gathered in their hair like dying blossoms. The trees were young and flexible. For a moment the feeble branches clung to them as if trying to hold them back before giving way to their bodies. If not for the rustling of their clothes, they might have heard the soft whispers. For the moment, their only concern was sighting the creature that continued to elude them. In their desperation, they lost sight of the sun amidst the tree line over head. Blindly, they stumbled on. They couldn't see what was ahead of them.
They were talking. One did not want to go, but was easily enough persuaded otherwise. After scrambling on their hands and knees to get into the forest, for it was young but thick, there was little wish to struggle through its entrance again so soon, and the thrill of an adventure urged them onwards. There was a moment's hesitation before they made their decision to move on, after this white stag that would grant them their deepest desires, to continue their journey. Partly by pride, and partly in fear that they would be deemed fearful, they petitioned Aslan, and entered the thicket, leaving the iron tree with the hanging lantern behind them.
They were remembering. Strange things were popping into their heads: things that weren't in Narnia – a lamppost that they had suddenly recalled the name and purpose of, and thick furry coats that seemed ridiculously fashioned and unnecessary in such warm weather. With each step they took, the branches around them thinned, and their heads grew more crowded with unrelated thoughts that they had not thought for years. All these things seemed strangely familiar, as if they had been in a dream. And then they were no longer in the wood but in something made of wood – a wardrobe.
They were changing. The thing most obvious, as they tumbled back into the empty room, was their looks. They could not tell this of themselves, but by looking at each other knew they had reverted to some previous state. They were smaller in size, and their beautiful, elaborate hunting outfits had been replaced with their dirty old play clothes. Their thoughts were muddled, and their mouths would not seem to form any form of speech, but they knew where they were and what had become of them almost immediately. Suddenly, they were no longer adults, no longer royalty, no longer Narnians.
They were panicking. It would have been too easy to get back through the wardrobe, though they tried many times that first day back. The boys threw their shoulders into the back of the wardrobe, to no avail, while the girls looked on hopelessly. They were racking their brains for a way to get back. Their spirits and bodies were battered. When it was time to retire for the evening – how insulting it was to have a set bedtime – they did not sleep. One wept, one paced, one mumbled, one prayed. What would become of their kingdom? Of those they had left behind? Everything had been so perfect. Now everything was gone. This place was no longer their home.
They were surrendering. For days, they had resisted, but everyone was wondering why they went around with their heads down and their eyes glazed over. They had to tell somebody. They were all going mad, with this heavy burden they had to bear. Who would they tell? They had lost all of those they could have talked to, all those that had mattered to them for so long. They had not seen their mother for what seemed many years, and in all honesty, they had almost forgotten her until now. They were a family within themselves. They could not talk to Mrs. Macready, for she had always been somewhat foreboding, and their childish fear of her had all suddenly returned. There was nobody else in the large house (they had been in larger, but those had not seemed so empty). They tried to hide their internal aching, but they knew they were already defeated.
They were smiling. It felt so good to do it once more. They were feeling relieved, feeling better, because he smiled back. He listened, and then told his own stories, and treated them like adults – they had a feeling no one would be doing that anymore, for a while. But he also treated them like friends. They all shared a great secret now. They could speak of it to no one else, it was decided. So they had to rely on each other. As they had done before. And that would make everything all right.
They were surviving. It was all they could do, now.
Oh, all that I know, there's nothing here to run from…
Yeah, 'cause everyone here's got somebody to lean on