Lion's Roar
By Callyn Daniels
I don't own the Chronicles of Narnia or Harry Potter.
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"You never told me." The great lion laughed heartily and the young boy with him tried his best not to come off as indignant. The sun glimmered off of its mane, creating a halo effect that encompassed the animal's entire body.
"There was nothing to tell Son of Adam," the golden beast replied deeply, though in any common form or sense, it should have no right speaking at all. All the same, his— as it was more than apparent that the great feline was a male—voice gave the boy the same acutely warm and comforting feeling it always had.
"But Aslan-"
"There is no use dwelling in things that have yet to come," Aslan countered gently and nuzzled the side of the small body next to him. The boy giggled, a flush blooming and brightening on his pale face. The grass underneath him tickled his palms and wrists. The sun beat down and a small bead of sweat formed at the crown of his hair despite the cool breeze that kept the area cool and comfortable. There they stayed in comfortable silence.
"How fares my family?" the boy asked softly. Aslan remained still for a moment.
"You've never asked that before," he probed, his voice a mere whisper on the wind. The trees shivered, moving their branches to provide a better shade for the pair.
"It hurt," the boy breathed. A great sigh startled the young man out of his silence.
"It was meant to," the lion growled gravely in anger. For a moment, the boy felt his insides freeze. The area seemed to warm in a fiery fury before the lion let out a slow breath. Immediately, the area returned to normal and the boy's breathing continued.
"Your brother is faring well. He's a little over-whelmed, though," the lion continued calmly. The young boy smirked sadly, but let out a laugh just the same.
"Trust it to that great prat to take charge of things by himself," he snorted. They both chuckled.
"He does his best," Aslan assured. There was a very long pause.
"At least the girls are there to keep him in line," the boy whispered as he leaned his body against the great lion behind him. Aslan breathed deeply.
"Susan is-" Aslan trailed off.
"Being typical Susan I expect," the boy snorted.
"She keeps up the castle and your siblings," Alsan turned his head to stare off into the distance. The sun was setting fast, casting the formerly blue sky into hues of red and orange.
"She always was a mother hen," the boy muttered. He could remember her in their home in Finchley. She always had this air about her, strutting about like she knew best. Even so, he could only smile fondly at the memory. It'd been so long…
"And Lucy, is she well?" he asked after a moment. Aslan turned his face toward the boy.
"She believes in you…and me," he returned. The boy relaxed once more.
"Then she is well and safe," he translated to himself. The lion nodded. The sun was almost gone and a deep blue had enveloped the better part of the sky.
"The spring?" the boy pressed. The lion hesitated, his paws shifting slightly where he sat.
"In all but the western wood," he finally uttered.
"Please Aslan," the small voice pleaded softly. The mane, softer than the finest silk, was thread through his fingers in an almost desperation.
"Peace dear one, for all is as it should be," the lion answered. They stayed in silence for a little while longer.
"It is almost time," Aslan spoke solemnly as he stood. The young boy pushed his way to his feet, brushing off his trousers with his hands even though there was nothing there to brush away.
"Will you come back for my birthday? My actual one?" he asked meekly.
"I shall try," Aslan answered. The boy buried his face into the lion's mane, wishing he could stay forever in that spot. Already, he was starting to hear the sounds of bustling people. The smell of the woods was fading.
"Remember that I am always with you," the lion said gently.
"Thank you, Aslan" the boy took a step back and bent to one knee. The sword that was attached to his belt was plunged into the ground and he pressed his forehead to the hilt.
"Rise Edmund, for our time here is up," Aslan commanded. Edmund rose and sheathed his sword in one swift, graceful movement. The sun dipped out of sight and everything went dark.
Bright green eyes opened to the world.
"Y' awake 'Arry?" came the gruff voice that had rescued him from the sea shack the night before. The eleven year old pushed himself up out of bed.
"Coming Hagrid," he called through the door as he patted side-table for his glasses. He walked across the room to the vanity. Green eyes, messy black hair, and a pair of broken glasses stared back at him sleepily. For a brief moment, he saw another reflection looking back at him. It's dark hair tamer, the eyes a deep brown and a face covered in freckles. It was both who he wished he was and yet, who he was glad he wasn't.
"Think you can be better this time around?" he muttered to himself as the image faded. It was him…the true him, no matter how ashamed of it he was. He didn't even bother with fixing his hair but combed it back with his hand.
"Turns out you're a wizard, Harry. I think I may have discovered the ticket to my demise; why the White Witch cursed me here. Aslan be with me," he whispered. With one last look over, he turned and left.
"Is there a storm still out there?" asked Hagrid as he heard a rumble in the distance. Edmund smiled and brought his hand to his heart.
"No, Hagrid. We're safe" 'I'm safe', he left unspoken. In the distance, Aslan's roar faded.
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Ok, that idea was bugging me for days and days at work. It drove me crazy until I finally wrote it down. Now, right before I leave for college, I felt like I should post it lest it be lost or forgotten by the time I come home in December. Let me know how you like it. Review. Catch ya.
