A/N: This is an AU, Maugrim/Lucy friendship story taking place throughout the majority of LWW. Now, before you say anything, the idea comes from a You Tube video entitled 'Maugrim/Lucy- Rebirthing' by natthenarnian. I watched it last night and loved it, so I immediately asked if I could write the fanfic on it, and I was given permission! Therefore, you have this! This goes along with the plot of the vid, though I am adding my own spin to things. If you like this, I'd love for you to check out the vid! It's so amazing!
As for LWW itself, I mixed both bookverse and movieverse here. The AU parts really don't start until later, so if you're thinking I'm just paraphrasing the book and movie (with neither in front of me, by the way), I admit that I am...but only to get you set, I swear! Plus, there are a few things I've added, and I did use a few lines directly from the movie (the ones used in the vid, which I thought they fit really well), so it's not all the same, I promise you!
Disclaimer: C.S. Lewis, Walden Media, and Fox own the Chronicles of Narnia. I, unfortunately, do not, though it is my one and only love. I did, however, get to read an excerpt from VDT in my Honors English class this week, and I nearly died from joy (and nobody can take that away from me)! Also for English, I made a mask depicting the four Pevensies and Aslan, so ha! lol.
Rebirth
There are many things to do in a situation such as theirs.
They can go back, turn straight around and return to the bright, though lonely warmth of the spare room on the other side of the wardrobe.
They can keep going, trust the strangely Talking Beaver and brave this wondrous new land.
They can continue on, help the Animal as he needs it—for his expression does look quite anxious, so he must need some sort of assistance (but then, they might merely look absurd).
Besides, after stepping through a wardrobe into a vast white wonderland, one your sister insisted was real all along, all sense of moral direction is expected to have gone a bit haywire.
Peter looks to his sister now as she stares at and fingers her soft, cream-colored handkerchief; apparently, it is the very one she gave to her Faun friend, Mr. Tumnus, upon first entering this place…whatever it's called…it was with an 'n'…Narnia! Yes, that was it.
"Lucy," his voice is gentle, and as she slowly brings her eyes up to his, his breath hitches painfully at the broken, pale countenance that is her face, "Lu, it's all right. We'll—" he turns to their Beaver friend, "—well, what do you propose we do, sir?"
"I propose we get out of the open, Son of Adam, before They hear!" His words are not harsh, just deeply worried, and Peter's face scrunches in puzzlement. Why did he insist on calling the boy such a queer thing, and who are 'They?'
The Creature backs up slowly, beckoning them to follow, and the children turn their heads to Lucy; she has always been the best judge of character. She hurriedly begins to go after him, and there is nothing for them to do except trail behind.
It is silent on the long walk, which gives Peter time to think.
His little Lucy had always been the truth-teller of the family, and the fact that he'd actually sided with Edmund on something this important—though at the time it had seemed pretty insane—sickens him. Then, to make matters worse, within their first few seconds here he'd found out Edmund had lied about being here before…!
Inwardly, he groans quietly as he presses his thumb and forefinger to his closed eyes. The ten-year-old is out of control, and Peter predicts it's really going to get him in trouble one of these days…
Susan cannot fathom this place, and the tight grip on his hand says so well enough. She is scared, he knows that, but she knows as well as he that there is no way he would ever let anything happen to her, their brother, or their sister. He loves them far too much for that, and he would rather any sort of danger strike and take him down before any one of them.
Lucy is anxious, mostly because this friend she's made seems to be in great danger. He wishes he could do something, but he does not know enough about this place to be of any help.
Besides, something had been off with the note they'd found in the Faun's home.
He still remembers the paw-print and name at the end—the mark that of a wolf, and the given signature of one called 'Maugrim.' Curious, really, that such a place would have need for a 'Secret Police,' and the wolf-print poses the question of any other human residing here. So far, all they've seen or heard of are Animals and Humanoid Creatures...
A shout from the Beaver startles him, and he grips Susan's hand suddenly, making her squeak. Shooting her an apologetic glance, he looks ahead and realizes why they've stopped. In front of them, in the middle of a frozen lake, there is a tiny, nearly finished dam. Peter grins for the third time since coming here.
"Come on, you lot! The Missus'll be waitin' for us." Mr. Beaver chuckles as he affectionately speaks of his wife, and Peter spies the corners of Susan's lips lift.
Gazing ahead again, Peter's stomach abruptly clenches as Lucy scrambles unconcernedly across the ice in her excitement, but he calms when, once she makes it halfway, Mr. Beaver reaches up to take her hand and lead her safely across the rest.
Edmund follows after, grumpy and moody as always, shuffling his feet and kicking the snow in his path as it incessantly falls around them and threatens to cover the ice.
Transferring Susan's hand into his free one and wrapping his other arm around her waist, the eldest children eventually make it to the other side.
Opening the door of the dam for her, she smiles faintly and steps inside. The moment Peter enters himself and turns after closing the door, he is pleasantly astonished by what he sees. The dam is definitely a little cramped for the six of them, especially with the necessary furniture and any number of interesting knick-knacks adorning the walls and ceiling, but the Beavers themselves do not take up nearly as much space as the children.
Edmund stiffly declines the offer of tea from Mrs. Beaver and only half listens as a conversation unfolds between his siblings and the couple.
The gooey, powdery taste of Turkish Delight plagues his every thought, haunts his taste buds, and he does not know how he can go another second without more. Why do these wretched Animals insist on keeping them here when they are obviously in a hurry?
The woman he'd met earlier had been so gorgeous, and he revels in the beauty his mind recreates. He wishes to see her again, to be in her kind company again, and his desire to be away from here only heightens.
Then, a name and phrase break into his thoughts for an unknown reason: "Aslan is on the move."
He sees his family's faces brighten, but all he knows is the incredibly sick feeling in his stomach. He tries to quell the reaction by not thinking of it, ignoring the rest of the male Beaver's words. He has made his decision. He will not wait any longer.
Hanging his thick coat from one of the few unoccupied hooks protruding from the ceiling, he opens the door as silently as possible and creeps through, scowling one last time at his siblings and the Beavers before closing the door noiselessly.
Almost immediately, the chill of the winter air attacks him in the form of wind, and though he suddenly wishes he hadn't left his coat behind, he quickly reminds himself that it had been his sole hope of escape.
His teeth chatter as he starts walking toward the palace between the two, mountain peaks. Wrapping his arms around himself, he disregards the snow and frigid air by focusing on the Turkish Delight he shall have when he finds her citadel.
He walks for a long time, and he wonders if he will ever arrive. Realizing he hasn't looked up from the ground to be sure of his direction for a while, and he is amazed to see a fortress of ice a little ways in front of him when he does. He trudges down a hill and across a field until he reaches it, pausing before the raised-gate threshold to the castle's courtyard.
He does not dare touch the ice that makes up the castle, for he is already so cold he cannot feel his hands or his feet. He is scared to enter, but he does anyway, fighting down the chill that courses up and down his spine.
He is busy looking at the architecture of the Lady's home when he unexpectedly smashes into something solid and frozen to the touch. He opens his eyes to see what he'd hit and barely catches himself in a scream.
Before him is a Lion in a pouncing position—though not the Lion, of course—and he runs to hide behind a wall a few paces back. Peeking out, it takes him a few moments to understand that the Creature is just a statue, that it will not roar in anger and proceed to snap his neck in its mighty jaws.
A little braver now, he continues onward through the courtyard, seeing several other statues of Animals left and right. Soon, there is light filling a doorway at the far end, and he hurries, the ideas of being warm and receiving more of his beloved treat driving him.
He is so wrapped up in such thoughts that he stops paying attention to his surroundings, as is made obvious when he is suddenly met with a vicious snarl and finds himself flat on his back, an eyeful of furry face and sharp, bared teeth not registering immediately. When it does, he opens his mouth to call for help, but he does not get the chance as the Wolf parts its jaws ferociously.
"Do not cry out, Son of Adam. No one hears a trespasser in the Queen's castle." Edmund says nothing, brown eyes wide and mouth agape as he breathes slowly and deeply; this Wolf is speaking to him! If Susan were here— He stops, not particularly wanting to think of his elder siblings at the moment, especially when they wouldn't follow him and only listened to Lucy… "Now, will you leave quietly, or must I make you?" Another menacing growl, and Edmund again loses his nerve.
Yet, the hot breath has an almost thawing effect on his lips, and at last he makes his move.
"She called me here, I swear! The Queen of Narnia, she asked me to come!" The Wolf edges closer, so much so that his nose is a hair's breadth away from Edmund's cheek, and the ten-year-old turns his head away out of fear. Finally, the Beast pulls back with a rough laugh and, to the boy's amazement, removes his weight from on top of Edmund's with a Wolf-smile.
"So, you're the lucky Human who got her Turkish Delight! Right this way, my good man." There is a friendlier tone to his gruff voice, and Edmund stays where he is for a minute in wonderment before picking himself up and following the Animal inside.
The castle's interior is a little warmer and far grander than anything outside, and he is soon led into the throne room. Before him, the Queen sits on her throne, one made of ice like the rest of the castle, and the Wolf bows before taking his leave. After being fixated with her beauty for several moments, Edmund finally remembers himself and drops to one knee in a bow, head down.
"Edmund, my dear, stand, stand!" She sweeps from her throne and pastes on a smile, one even he would have recognized as fake if his eyes had not been directed toward the ground. "A Prince and eventual King of Narnia does not bow to his Queen!" She grips Edmund's arms with surprising strength and lifts him into the air, settling his feet on the ground and smoothing his brown sweater. Then, she looks behind him and, face falling, she asks, "But Edmund, dear, where are your brother and sisters?"
Suddenly, Edmund does not feel as brave anymore, and he drops his eyes to the floor as his cheeks redden in disgrace; he should have something more to tell this beautiful Lady!
"They—" he stutters, "—they wouldn't come with me, ma'am. I tried, really, I did, but they wouldn't listen to me!" He hopes she understands, and he thinks she does as her face remains in its same, contentedly expectant expression.
But it all shatters when, without warning, she strikes him severely across the face, causing him to stumble backward and nearly hit his head on an ice pillar. Ignoring the cold, he rushes behind it and presses his back against it, his breathing heavy and eyes filling with tears as one of his hands hovers over the stinging, scorching-hot cheek she'd just hit.
What is happening? Was this some kind of cruel joke? Was she testing him? There must be something—
He cannot finish as, abruptly, an inhumanly strong, pale-as-paste hand grips his collar and pulls him around the pillar. He is face-to-face with his beautiful Ice Queen, and he truly sees how she became known to the Narnians—and now his siblings and himself—as the White Witch.
"How dare you?" Her voice is a cold whisper, and he struggles in terrified vain to get away. Now a powerful, shrill scream: "How dare you come alone? I toldyou to come only if they are with you, and what do you bring me?" He is thankful it is a rhetorical question, for he has neither the voice nor the valiance to offer an answer.
Her grip tightens and, fearing another slap across the face, his desperate mouth is moving before he even knows what he is saying.
"I—I did bring them halfway, to the Beavers' house! That was as far as I could convince them!"
The mood in the room changes, and there is some sort of pink in her face as she throws him carelessly to the floor. He lands roughly, sliding a few feet on the smooth surface and splitting open his right forearm on a razor-sharp edge of ice that sticks up from the floor. It is not the only imperfection in this house, it would seem.
As the 'Queen' turns her head and appears to have completely left him to his own devices, he plans to run, but he freezes as the Dwarf that had driven her sleigh appears and harshly yanks him to his feet. He holds a long, curved blade to Edmund's back and pushes him forward, meaning to steer him to the dungeons, the boy is sure. However, the little man pauses in his mission a moment when the woman raises a white hand.
She has resumed sitting on her throne and, turning to the left of it, she calls out a single name in a steely voice: "Maugrim?" Edmund watches as the familiar Wolf from earlier steps up beside her, and the next words bring horror to the boy's heart. "You know what to do."
The Wolf nods, yellow eyes flickering to Edmund as the Creature's smile turns to a malevolent smirk, and he throws his head back to let out a piercing, soul-gripping howl. Edmund's eyes widen as numerous Wolves reveal themselves, and he wishes to be as far away from here as possible.
It is not for him that he thinks this thing, however.
No, it is for the siblings he wishes he could warn, for the siblings he now knows he has betrayed and, therefore, probably just sentenced to death.
Tears fill his eyes again, and they blur his vision so much that he does not see Maugrim lead his pack into the night.
A/N: Thanks for reading, as always!