Hello! This is Hatter of HatterandClareBear Inc. and this is ClareBear's first fanfic! Everyone cheer for ClareBear! Ok, down to business! Summary:

The Pevensie children weren't the only ones to be evacuated to Professor Kirke's house in the country. Follow the adventures of Elizabeth and Catherine Wyland as they follow the Pevensies ... through the Wardrobe. [Peter/OC, Edmund/OC, Susan/Caspian. Set in 1940's and mostly movie-verse, although there will be some of the books' scenes and storyline in it. Alternate Ending.]

Ok, so if you have a flame, please send it to the email address labelled "HATTER" in the profile, because any flames that are put in reviews are unnecessary. After all, this is ClareBear's FIRST FANFIC and I know how nervous you all were when you posted your first fanfic. So, send your complaints to either Sarala23 or MysticalOddness23 or race jackson hotmail . com. Thank you.

Disclaimer: Neither ClareBear nor I own the Chronicles of Narnia books or movies.

London at night, during the war, was tense, quiet; the parents stayed up as long as they could, eyes searching outside their homes; children went to bed with fear; the animals reacted badly to their now anxious habitats and masters. It was all waiting ... but for what, most didn't know. But soon they would.

The dark streets suddenly erupted into life and fire. Overhead, the sounds of helicopters and planes pierced what once was a peaceful, but apprehensive night. Buildings ignited and exploded, and two teenage girls – one sixteen, the other fourteen – jolted awake in their beds.

The elder one was named Elizabeth and she had bright, fiery hair that was always curling and tumbling down her back. Her skin was pale but freckled, and her face was heart-shaped and beautiful. The green of her eyes became visible in the dark as she sat up and jumped to her feet, putting on her slippers as quickly as she could. Then she ran out of her room and into the next.

The younger one, Catherine, screamed and buried herself underneath the covers again, hands over her ears as to not hear the sounds of the houses exploding, as if in doing this she'd be safe. However, her covers were ripped off her bed and thrown aside, and the dark blue of her eyes shimmered into view. She was crying vigorously and could barely stand to look at who had ripped the sheets off. But she knew who it was; said person had soon snaked their tiny fingers around her wrist and hauled her out of her bed.

'Come on!' screamed Elizabeth. 'We haven't much time!'

The two sisters ran from the room in a panic, Catherine now sobbing harder than ever and gripping Ellie's arm as if it were the last thing on their dear Earth. Ellie merely said nothing about the vice-like grip, trying to calm down her own thoughts as they bounced about her head.

Unexpectedly, a door at the top of the stairs, leading to the girls' parents' room was flung open, a woman inside barrelling out, heading to the direction of Cat's room. It was Anna Wyland, the girls' mother. When she saw the girls running for her, she screamed for them to run to their bomb shelter.

There came a time when Ellie could no longer hear her thudding feet, nor her mother's or sister's. They were all drowned out by the screams of the Londoners and shouts and yells for help that came from neighbours. Similarly, Cat couldn't hear anything her mother was praying (for she was a devoted Catholic and prayed even harder since the war began), or what Elizabeth was saying; in fact, Cat could barely even see her mother and sister, and it scared her.

They were at the foot of the stairs, then they were passing through the dining room … the kitchen came next … out the back door and into the ya–

Abruptly, Cat turned around and darted back into the house, thundering up the stairs and bursting into her room. She flew to her dresser and began to paw through it. Whatever she was searching for was found quickly, as she soon sprinted out her room. Down the stairs again … through the dining room … into the kitc–

But this time, Cat made it no farther than the kitchen. With a loud, piercing crack, the kitchen windows shattered into millions of pieces, the glass showering the fourteen year old. Her blonde hair, ever so like her mother's, started to stain with scarlet. She vaguely heard someone scream – later she would find out that it was Ellie, terrified and scared, who'd ran back to the house to get her out – but she was too absorbed in the agony of her forehead. Even more vaguely was the feel of Ellie's strong arms encasing her torso, dragging her away.

But the world was wrenched apart in fire and rock and blood and everything went black.

~*W*~

'And do try to be safe,' instructed Mrs Wyland, who was now in tears by this point. She wasn't the only one. Tears ran from all three pairs of eyes and it was Cat, who hated being seen crying ('After all,' she had said, 'I'm almost a woman now and women don't cry.'), that was crying hardest. She was practically bawling her blue eyes out and her nose was redder than that children's fantasy creature, Rudolph the Red-Nosed reindeer.

'Mamma!' she wailed, clutching her mother in in very tight embrace. 'I don't want to go! It's not safe for you either! Come with us!'

'Shhhh, Catey,' soothed Mrs Wyland in her softest voice, caressing her daughter's cheek gently. 'It will be alright. Nothing will ever happen to me, sweetheart, understand?'

'I understand,' sniffled Cat.

Mrs Wyland then changed the topic, patting Cat's head gingerly, her fingers avoiding the large white bandage on her forehead. 'Remember, if it gets too bad; just tell whoever is going to be looking after you about it and they'll be sure to do something.' Luckily, Cat's only injuries were a few (million) cuts and blood loss.

Ellie, standing close by to her family, put a piano-fingered hand on her little sister's shoulder and told her mother reassuringly, 'Don't fear for either of us, Mother, for we will be well in both mind and body. After all, what is the worst that could happen?'

Mrs Wyland didn't answer, but smiled and then ushered them (in a manner that was very fussy, sweet and motherly) onto the train with more hugs and kisses and 'I-love-you's then she'd ever given in her life. Cat and Ellie hung out of the doorway as long as they could before they had to poke their heads back in and find a compartment.

The red-headed girl threw an encouraging arm over her sister's shoulders and gave them a squeeze. As the steam engine pulled out from the station, she bent over and whispered in Cat's ear, 'Don't worry, Cat. The war will be over before we know it and then we can go home.'

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