Into the Forest
Anyone read this? Yes, no? Maybe so? I've re-read it, and seen heaps of mistakes and errors. Do not fear however, for they shall be fixed...Anyway, SHOUT OUTS: No one. Yet. I'm surprised to have gotten the second chapter up but, you know, whatever. School work is way down the list...As usual, may be slow at updating, all belongs to C.S. Lewis (the majority of the dialogue, characters, plot and I'll give you a shout out if you can spot what else!) 'cept my cry-baby of a ten-year-old, Lizzy, who I have big plans for. Alsan and I have discussed and feel great about it. Yep, absolutely spiffing! Once again, all comments, reviews, flames and compliments are welcomed! PS, Code word for chapter duo is "Pine scent", if you want to be mentioned in a shout out for next chapter. But I digress, onwards, dear reader, if you have survived thus far!
FYI, thank you Noel Ardnek, for you have truly made the rest of my year!
It was a few days later when and Elizabeth found herself outside picnicking with Nina (her older sister) and Nina's boyfriend. They were in a park with both families and Elizabeth was quite content to watch the world pass her by. This is what Narnia should be like, she thought to herself as she continued eating a bright green apple happily. She was the only one though, for all the other children were gorging themselves on Turkish Delight.
"Oh, Lizzy, do go play!" Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her mother. She decided that children weren't nice to her, and so she would be extra mature and extra sophisticated and impress so many adults that they would all adore her, and then all the children would be jealous of her and would wish to be just like her. Satisfied by this, she huffed happily and told her mother that, "I think their childish games are too immature for someone like me." She was scolded by the other children's parents, for inadvertently insulting their children. All in all, Elizabeth was not enjoying this picnic. She held her head high, nose in the air, and walked down the shiny, grassy hill towards a lovely little brook covered in the shade of bright green trees with delicate white and yellow flowers on them.
Elizabeth looked at the brook and thought how pretty it was, and how Edmund would probably be able to jump it. She hissed at the thought of that boy and shook her head. Instead she gathered her dresses poufy skirt in her arms and leaned down closer to the water, so she could marvel at each individual pebble. There was a green one, a blue one and mostly grey ones, but a gold one caught her eye. She leaned closer to the ground, as to not to fall in, and reached as far across the brook as she possibly could. Her arm stretched perhaps half-way across, but no further than that. The pebble was delicately perched on a brownish slab on the other side. Elizabeth sighed, unsurprised. For as if I could have the prettiest pebble, for I am not as smart or as nice or as pretty as someone who would be able to reach it, she continued on with her normal rant. Then she thought again, Edmund would be able to jump it. This angered the girl, for even though he wasn't anywhere near this tiny little golden rock, he was still closer to the pebble than she was. Fine, she thought, if that's the way it is, I shall jump the creek myself (for Elizabeth didn't know that it was really a brook) and retrieve it myself. Edmund mustn't get it! Elizabeth skirts were pitched up higher in her arms and she prepared to jump.
Now, Elizabeth wasn't as smart, or nice, or funny, or pretty or athletic as some other ten year old girls, so when she prepared to jump, the thought of a run-up did not enter her head. And why should it? The point of going backwards to propel yourself further forwards is preposterous to anyone. Instead, Elizabeth stood where she was, coiled her legs up and jumped as high and as long as she possibly could. It was a very good jump, but she managed to go only a third of the way across before she landed on a collection of hard, slippery green pebbles on the bottom of the deepest part of the brook (which wasn't very deep). She knew now that the green was actually moss and, as any other person might have, she let out a cry of alarm as she slipped. Her golden sandals were now soaked through, along with her cream poufy dress which wasn't the worst in her mother's choosings, and her feet and back and bottom started to tingle for the difference between the summer heat and the brook's water was quite great. Elizabeth looked around at once to see if anyone had see her great attempt, but instead, all she saw was white. Oh bother! Narnia, again! Elizabeth shook her head, realising for the first time that this was not a dream but, in fact, real.
She shook herself free of snow and started to climb up a very steep hill to her right. It was quite difficult, for everyone knows the easiest way to climb a hill made of snow or sand is to kick your toes into the mountain and then step. Elizabeth couldn't, however, for her toes were beyond the coldest toes in all of Narnia. This keeps getting more and more miserable! Elizabeth was, once again, close to crying. The first time she came here she was kidnapped, then the next she met a horrendous little boy and a mean, old, evil witch who didn't like her in the tiny, slightest bit. Now, she was freezing with snow, and had appeared to have landed on ice. Huffing, she eventually made it over onto a flat piece of snow and, shivering, she glanced around her. She was standing on the edge of a steep, narrow valley which looked like it had an ice river flowing straight through it. There was a dam right in the middle of it, right where she had supposed she had fallen. She huffed, mad that she was so intent to climb upwards she hadn't noticed the dam and—yes, it did. It appeared to have smoke coming from the ceiling and lights on inside. My, what an advanced beaver dwelling that is! Elizabeth thought, shocked. Elizabeth needed to sit, to think about what to do next (for she was quite lost without a guide or the lamppost). The cold only made her shiver more and more violently. Hissing, she decided that even if they are kidnappers too, at least she would be warm and wouldn't catch her death out here. Quickly, she made her way back down the valley (I only just climbed up this!), taking less time than climbing upwards. She knocked gently on the door, or, what appeared to be the door. Immediately a voice cried from inside. There was a short flurry of movements before Elizabeth got an answer.
"Mr Badger, one moment, dear. The fish is almost cooked and the potatoes are ready so dinner will be served—you aren't Mr Badger!" The door had opened and had shown a beaver rather larger than the average ones that Elizabeth had seen in pictures.
"I know I'm not," Elizabeth quipped. "But I'm frightfully cold and wouldn't mind being let in anyway, if you please."
"Oh, yes," The beaver ushered Elizabeth inside. "Of course dear, can't have you standing outside and catching your death. Beaver!" The beaver hissed. Another beaver made its way out from a room off to the left, taking the few, rickety steps down into what appeared to be the main area, what with a hearth, a table, a fire and a couple of beaver-sized arm chairs. Elizabeth could even see knitting on one of them, though she didn't allow her mind to delve into the reasons and prospects of beaver-knitting.
"Yes, dear?" This was clearly a husband beaver, so Elizabeth gathered that the beaver who opened the door was Mrs Beaver. "Whoa!" He backed up a bit, a very funny sight to Elizabeth who had never seen someone with a beaver tail back up before, at the sight of Elizabeth.
"I know," Mrs Beaver hissed. "Now, now, dear, settle yourself down here—yes, right here—in front of the fire and I'll get you a nice cup of tea. Any preferences?" Elizabeth didn't like tea, but didn't want to be rude to her hosts and so she assured them anything they had that wasn't a problem getting was perfectly fine with her. She was quite happy that none of them had asked what she was yet. Thankfully, they knew she was a girl.
"I must say," Elizabeth cooed, smiling around the small house the beavers had set up for themselves. "I've never quite seen a dam this lovely before. I'm very impressed!"
"Oh, tish tosh, it's merely a trifle!" Mr Beaver bristled with pride, coming to stand near her to carry on the conversation.
"No, really, it's very homey. If I had a dam, I would want it to be one just like this." Both beavers looked ecstatic with her remark, and Elizabeth pondered on how she would set about her life as a beaver. Once she had started to warm up, sipping at her tea (which Mrs Beaver had put plenty of sugar in), the door knocked once more. This time, it was Mr Badger and Mrs Badger, too, and everyone was introduced and sat down to have some fish with potatoes. Elizabeth beamed at their kindness; such nice animals, she thought. The Messrs regaled them all with great tales of Narnia and fishing trips (the one about a trout was Elizabeth's particular favourite) while the banter between the wives and husband was very amusing, too. Elizabeth even shared some of her stories and jokes which made them all laugh, and Elizabeth beam with pride. She liked this place, and she liked the beavers and the badgers. After dessert, they all sat around and a more serious conversation started.
"So, you're a girl, then?" Mr Beaver asked her. Mrs Beaver and Badger quickly made business of doing the dishes, though, while in this small dam, they would still be able to hear the conversation.
"Yes," Elizabeth answered with a nod. "I am."
"A human girl?" Mr Badger asked.
"Could I be any other type of species?" Elizabeth asked, after a pause. Mr Badger laughed and agreed with her.
"I suppose not. Do you have any other siblings?" They asked. "Oh, how many?" They asked. "Is that all, no brothers?" "Are you sure, are you sure, are you sure?" Elizabeth was starting to get very annoyed at them and their questioning. "Are you—"
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm very sure. I didn't have any brothers a minute ago, and I don't have any brothers now!" The animals shared a look.
"I suppose you're in more danger then," Mr Beaver huffed and turned to Mr Badger.
"I...what are you talking about?" Elizabeth didn't want to be in danger of any form, so she didn't like the fact that they were bringing it up now. Mr Beaver waddled off to Mrs Badger to see if, should the need arise, Elizabeth would be able to hide at their place.
"Danger, from the White Witch," The Badger explained. "You see, there's this prophesy, well, an old rhyme really:
Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we will have spring again."
"Oh, tell her the other one, too, dearest," Mrs Badger cooed. Truthfully, Mrs Badger had loved this girl as a daughter as soon as she had seen her shivering by the fire. She was polite, and happy and nice and very ladylike—gracious. This girl was very gracious, to sum her up in a single word. She was also a very lovely sight to behold, for a human, that is, and Mrs Badger was already making plans to marry her off to some lucky Archenland noble.
"I'm getting too it, love!" Mr Badger snapped. The happy old badger puffed on his pipe a few more times, before diving straight into another children's rhyme:
"When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone
Sits at Cair Paravel in throne,
The evil time will be over and done."
Elizabeth pondered over both for a bit, while the adults had some night caps and talked about more grown-up things. Elizabeth didn't know what, because the most grown-up thing to talk about was politics and Narnia didn't have great politics to talk about really, there's only so much discussion to have about a Queen and her ruling habits that hadn't changed over the last hundred years. Then, a thought hit her. Edmund was a Son of Adam or whatever, so he was going to be the one to "sit in throne". Elizabeth scowled, Of course he would! Spitefully, Elizabeth thought that the witch should die, but quickly regretted that thought because really, she didn't want to kill anyone. The fire slowly started to die and the Badgers announced that they should really be returning home if they wanted to get there before dark. Elizabeth jumped up to say goodbye to them at the door.
"I think I prefer the first one, Mr Badger," She told him.
"Lizzy, I do too," He chuckled. Mrs Badger fretted over Elizabeth for a few minutes, much to the amusement of the others. To see a grown badger worry over a human who towered over her was quite tickling, indeed. The badgers made the beavers swear to look after her and finally got back home. Going back inside, Elizabeth and Mrs Beaver cleaned the dishes and set the table away and just pottered around the rest of the house before Mr Beaver announced that it was about time that everyone should be getting to bed. The three of them set up a tiny, make-shift bed in front of the re-kindled fire and with a promise from Mr Beaver to show her around the tunnels tomorrow, and a promise from Mrs Beaver to help make her some more suitable dresses (for Elizabeth's were sleeveless and was originally a flower girl's dress for her cousin's wedding) everyone settled down into their bed. Drifting back and forwards in drowsiness, Elizabeth muttered to herself the rhyme Mr Badger had told her earlier. The last thing the beavers heard before they drifted off to sleep was their guest over in the next room, who was singing a hauntingly beautiful tune which managed to capture the hardships of the Narnians and their hope in Aslan.
The next day, Elizabeth woke up feeling quite cold. She was in her cream dress and sandals still, and was in front of the fire (Mrs Beaver had woken up early to keep their guest warm). Mrs Beaver was getting breakfast and Mr Beaver was reading a book to himself by the fire. Elizabeth greeted her hosts and thanked them deeply before packing up her make-shift bed (as she had helped the night before, she knew where everything belonged). That day was filled with constant activity, between Mrs Beaver teaching her how to sew, and Mr Beaver showing her very rough maps of the tunnels he had started to build, and Elizabeth was thankful for lunch when she could just sit down and try to recall all the knowledge that they had stuffed into her head. Elizabeth sighed and shook her head. Mrs Beaver wanted her to make patterns after lunch, and help make some jams and other conserves which she shared with other Narnians who didn't had as much freedom as they did (the White Witch loathed going anywhere on foot, and her sledge couldn't reach the beavers' dam because of the valley, and the density of the surrounding forest). Mr Beaver eventually got his way, however, and Elizabeth found herself dirtying her lovely cream dress in the tunnels underneath the house. Going to and fro she learnt that they went practically everywhere. During this time, Mr Beaver taught her more of the geography of Narnia, and by the end of the day she had a fairy good map of it in her head. During Mr Beaver's night cap, Elizabeth started, and finished, all of her dress patterns with the help of Mrs Beaver.
Over the next few days, with the help of the badger and the beavers, Elizabeth acquired a pair of riding boots, a matching brown pack (which held a surprising amount of gear within), and a pair of black slippers. They had also gather reams of fabric (rayon reds and, cotton creams and golds, silk blues and yellows, suede browns and velvet green and purples) and a far amount of ink and parchment for her to use. Quickly, she put all to use. It turned out, she was quite a seamstress under the watchful eyes of Mrs Beaver and Mrs Badger, and she enjoyed drawing with ink and parchment when she wasn't talking with Mr Badger and Mr Beaver. While Elizabeth enjoyed this wonderful new life she had fallen into, she was starting to worry. This was the longest she had ever been in Narnia, when would she be able to go home? A comment from Mr Beaver had even made her doubtful that she could return home, which made her partly happy and partly distressed, for while it is every child's dream to run away, every child misses their parents. It was especially distressing when she heard the news about Mr Tumnus, the lovely faun who she had seen once more since her third arrival, and how he had been captured by the Queen's police. She felt horrible, like she was to blame and she also felt an overwhelming amount of fear for both herself and all of the Narnians who she had met, and therefore had put in danger. Anyway, one way or another, she managed to bury her fears and continue helping her selfless hosts. She was especially excited for one day Mr Beaver asked if she would like to accompany him delivering jams and conserves to other Narnians. Immediately, Elizabeth accepted for not only did she wish to meet more friends of Mr and Mrs Beaver, it would also be the first time outside the damn in a very long time. Placing her brand new boots on, and wearing her warmest green velvet dress and brown suede jacket, she loaded her arms with supplies and exited the dam with Mr Beaver, tuning out Mrs Beaver's worried cries for the two.
After meeting a Mrs Rabbit, a Mrs Mole, a Mrs Squirrel and catching up with Mrs Badger again, Mr Beaver finally drew Elizabeth away to one of their more elevated clients. Mrs Robin was, quite obviously, a delightful little robin that lived up high above in the trees, soaring from child to child to husband to child while all the while gossiping with any tree or being who trespassed into her ear range. This was how Mr Beaver and Elizabeth had found out about the Pevensies snooping around Mr Tumnus' place. Being told to go quietly and stealthily back to the dam (accompanied by a Mr Robin who was to immediately notify Mr Beaver of anything dangerous or suspicious), Elizabeth found herself running through the forest and making her way towards the valley which was slowly growing on her as home. Getting to the flat edge, she thanked the robin for his extreme kindness and he simply shook his head telling her that it was no problem to help The Gracious Lady. Elizabeth awkwardly made her way down (she still wasn't quite used to the slope yet) and back into the dam, Mrs Beaver not giving her time to explain or get a word in edgewise, but was told to immediately clean up her bed (she had forgotten to this morning, for she was so excited and looking forward to her outing). As she finished, Mrs Beaver settled down on her sewing machine and Elizabeth finally had a chance to explain what Mr Beaver was quite up to. Mrs Beaver was surprised, but had no doubt that he would bring them back here, since he had also become quite used to Elizabeth. While Elizabeth had the chance, she also told Mrs Beaver how lovely her new acquaintances were, and how Mr Robin had even called her a gracious lady.
"But everyone calls you that!" Mrs Beaver had announced. Elizabeth was quite confused.
"Who calls me gracious?" She asked, wrinkling her nose up. She didn't think herself gracious, and saw no reason for others too, either.
"Oh, everyone, dear. Mr and Mrs Badger told everyone how gracious our guest was and now everyone knows you as The Gracious Lady. It certainly makes it easier to deliver messages back and forward, because if any spy overheard then they would assume we were simply speaking of Jadis instead." Elizabeth was flattered, and as such dropped the message, but not before picturing the look on a spy's face when hearing when hearing that Jadis would like Mrs Badger to come around because she wanted her to try her new recipe for a lemon tart. Elizabeth giggled, and shook her head, staring into the fire. "Come now, dear, don't you hear them walking above?" Elizabeth listened and heard some clumsy footsteps and the murmur of voices telling each other to be careful now. Elizabeth knew how frightening it was to walk to the door; on one side the frozen river was precisely the height of the dam and so one could simply misplace their foot and slide onto the ice. However, on the other side there was a deathly sharp drop. "Put the kettle on, dear." Elizabeth did as she was told and began getting a dinner ready for all seven of them. Elizabeth stopped setting the table when Mr Beaver announced their arrival and Elizabeth felt slightly hesitant at seeing the Pevensies again. After all, she had marched off in a sour fit like a little child the last time she had seen two of them.
"Here we are, Mrs Beaver, Lizzy, I've found them. Here are the Sons and Daughter of Adam and Eve—" All five piled in.
"So you've come at last!" Mrs Beaver went over to meet her guests, always the welcoming host. "At last! To think that ever I should live to see this day! The potatoes are boiling, aren't they Lizzy?"
"Yes, Mrs Beaver," At this the Pevensies all turned around to see Elizabeth standing there, hands wringing themselves, in proper Narnia garb. Lucy's face lit up but Edmund managed to deepen his scowl further, if that was even possible. The other two looked surprised to see her, and Elizabeth immediately felt intimidated by the proper boy and by the beautiful girl.
"And the kettle's singing?"
"Yes, Mrs Beaver," She replied again.
"And I daresay, Mr Beaver, you'll get us some fish."
"That I will," Mr Beaver announced and he and the other boy made his way outside to the fish pond that Elizabeth liked to just observe sometimes. Lucy immediately sprung over to Elizabeth and wrapped her up in a hug, much to the surprise of her sister.
"Lizzy!" She all but squealed, much to the surprise of her sister. "It's so good to see you again. This is a lovely dress you have on!" Elizabeth blushed a bit, but greeted Lucy as well.
"Hello," The beautiful girl smiled at Lucy's friend. "I'm Susan Pevensie." She held out a hand, which Elizabeth took happily. Narnians didn't know the custom here.
"Elizabeth Jones—"
"But everyone calls her Lizzy, because her name is too long!" Lucy giggled, still hugging Elizabeth's arm.
"And now she's acquired a new nickname, as well," Mrs Beaver added from the table. Susan and the beaver had continued Elizabeth's job by setting it and preparing it for dinner.
"Oh, what is it?" Lucy asked.
"It's nothing, Lucy," Elizabeth dismissed her.
"Oh, please, please tell me!" She asked again.
"Later, Lucy. Why don't you help by slicing some bread? It's over there in the clay cupboard." Lucy pouted, but still happily continued on with the job given to her. Eventually Elizabeth made her way over to Edmund by the fire.
"Hello again," She muttered quietly, so as not to be heard by the others. She made a big show of warming her hands up, getting a bit too close for a second and scolding one of her hands. She held it close, and sneered at the happy face of Edmund.
"Why do you have to be so rude and so...so mean all the time? It's horrendous just trying to have a conversation with you!" She hissed at him.
"Why do you have to be so annoying and stupid all the time?" He retorted. As he expected, Elizabeth immediately became upset at the insult and began to sniffle the tiniest bit.
"You used to be decent before you ate that stupid Turkish Delight!" She was going to turn it back to the original conversation she wanted to have with him.
"You had it too!" He shushed her.
"I know, and I hate it. I've been craving it ever since I had that one slice! It's horrible. Can't you see it's bewitched?" Edmund thought it over, then quickly shook the thought out of his head. She was just a silly little girl trying to make him feel bad about himself.
"It wasn't bewitched; you're just scared—and jealous. You're jealous that I'm going to be King and you're going to be nothing more than a speck of dirt on my shoe!" He hissed. "Besides, even if it was bewitched, who do you suppose did it?"
"That evil witch did it to you. To us. Don't you see, she's evil—"
"She isn't evil!" Edmund jeered at her, shutting her up.
"She just using you," Elizabeth whispered, even more quiet than before. Edmund had to lean in closer to hear what she was saying—even though he didn't care what she said.
"Shut up!" He sneered at her in a finalising tone, one that made Elizabeth shiver. "You're jealous that I'm going to be King, and that's all. Well too bad, you can't convince me otherwise."
"I'm not jealous," At this point, it took everything she had not to suddenly burst into tears. "I know you're going to be King, but she won't make you it, I know it!" The she quickly stood up and went to the door to help the other boy, who was intimidating but not mean or rude or yucky, and Mr Beaver.