A/N: My first real attempt at a Narnia story. In "The Magician's Nephew", it's mentioned that the tree in London would wave with the winds in Narnia, so I began to wonder if the same thing would happen in Narnia when the wind blew in London. Then I thought of when the tree was toppled, and that's where this story came from. This is to bridge the gap between "The Magician's Nephew" and "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe".

Disclaimer: I don't own The Chronicles of Narnia.

The Felling of the Tree

While the winds of Narnia made the London tree shake and its branches wave as though it, too, were being blown about; so did the winds of London effect the Narnian tree. Blustery London days made the leaves shake and the branches quiver, though the Narnian air was still.

For many years, stories of the tree and the boy who planted it had been passed down from generation to generation; but the more the story was told the more fanciful it became until the inhabitants of Narnia were content to say that the tree had been there since the beginning of time, and to never question its strange quivering on windless days.

Until the tree was felled.

It was torn up from its roots and it toppled to the earth on the stillest of Narnian days. The other trees, those that spoke and danced as well as those that were solid and guarded the forests, were still as statues; but still this tree fell to the earth.

And as it lay on its side, preparing to decompose and join the dust of the earth, a Lion's roar reached every ear in Narnia. The roar was filled with longing and with pain, and it sent every heart in Narnia aching with it, though no one could say just why.

And though they wondered about it for a bit, they were soon going about their daily lives, hardly noticing that the temperatures were growing colder and snow was beginning to fall. Winter was setting in quite early, but no one took any real notice of it until it came time for Christmas and no presents came.

The holiday passed as any normal day would have, except for the despair of the Narnians as the waited in vain for Saint Nicholas's visit.

What followed this is a terrible tale, a horrible fate to befall any Narnian: people began to disappear.

The stories were always the same. There was a visit made by a woman who called herself "The Queen of Narnia" (although, the storytellers took to dubbing her "The White Witch"), and she would meet with whatever family she chose and discuss some matter with them; and sometimes she would leave with a disturbingly pleased look upon her face, and other times she would leave with her face distorted in anger.

Whenever she left in anger, a few days later someone would disappear.

So it was that Narnia came to be under the rule of the White Witch, once Queen Jadis of Charn. Her magic made it always winter and never Christmas, and struck fear into the hearts of the Narnians.

Some found favor with her, staving off their own deaths or disappearances by bending to her will; while others went into hiding rather than have to face her; and still others fought her openly for many years, telling stories of the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve who were, according to the stories, to be the saviors of Narnia.

But, soon, those stories, like the ones about the tree, became merely stories. No one truly believed them any longer, they were simply fairy tales told to keep up hope. And, though a fair few still held tight to the tales, many Narnians allowed the despair of the White Witch's rule to overtake them completely.

And she believed that she had won.