AN: Two things. One, sorry for the bit of a long wait on updating this, I got it up as soon as I possibly could. Two, to all the people who keep asking when Caspian is coming into this story: He's coming eventually. Chill out. LOL.
We are getting a little sick of winter, my brothers, my sister, and I.
At first, we enjoyed it.
We liked playing in the snow and wearing our winter clothes.
I personally liked sitting up late at night with a cup of piping hot tea and not feeling sweat-beads rolling down my forehead the way they did on the warmer nights.
Of course, it was already autumn when father brought us here so we don't know exactly what spring and summer will be like in this place.
Still, I think we're ready to discover that.
Snow was pretty the first five dozen times we've seen it this year, now it's just sort of bleak.
In the meantime, we four have different ways of passing the slow-moving, dark-sky filled hours.
Edmund even stops fussing so much about his lessons in the morning because the winter is taking its toll, even on him.
Lucy reluctantly lets me teach her how to sew and cross-stitch and do needle-point; but I can tell, winter or not, this isn't something she is going to get much pleasure out of.
Early one morning, I find Peter sitting in one of the upstairs chambers looking out through one of the few windows our tower-palace has.
He looks sad and sort of frightened.
This isn't like him, so the second I notice a tear roll down the side of his left cheek, I ask what the matter is.
He shakes his head at me sadly, trying to hide his grief, and for a moment I just assume this is all because he's missing father and doesn't want to seem weak and childish in front of Lucy or Edmund.
Then he whispers something about fate, closes his eyes, sighs wearily, and then opens them again.
"I wonder what's going to happen to us." He says finally.
"What?" I crinkle my forehead and reach up to feel his wondering if perhaps he's running a fever and is not thinking straight.
Gently, he nudges my hand away. "Oh, Su, it's silly, don't worry."
"No, tell me." I insist, I promise him I wont find it silly-no matter what. "Please tell me."
"I can't explain it." He says, groaning deeply and glancing out the window again. "I've just got this horrible feeling that something is going to happen and we won't even be here for spring."
I surprise myself by how quickly I almost say, "That's silly, of course we'll be here." in spite of my promise and have to bite the tip of my tongue to keep those words from escaping.
One cold winter morning, when the snow was falling colder and thicker than any that yet to come to the land surrounding the children's secret tower-palace in the Lantern Waste, King Frank sat alone in the throne room in Cair Paravel feeling very uncomfortable.
At some late hour the night before, the poor king had awaked with an awful start, breathing heavily and his heart pounding like a drum he could hear echoing over and over again in his aching, throbbing ears. He had suddenly felt the horrible sensation of what he thought was someone with fingers as smooth and cold as ice lifting up his mantle and reaching into the breast-pocket on his doublet and then carrying off the magical spool of thread as swiftly as a river's current pulls away a small toy or handkerchief that has fallen into it by mistake.
Jadis! The witch has taken the spool, He thought to himself, my children, my poor, poor children, they're in such danger...somebody help them...please...somebody-
His hand felt for the thread, he could still feel the spool in his breast-pocket after all. King Frank breathed a sigh of relief. So it was all only a dream, the thread was still safe and so were his four darlings in their tower. He decided that it must have just been his own fear of being found-out by Jadis that had triggered the nightmare and that he really must try to get a proper night's sleep now and calm his body down before he had another heart-attack.
Sadly, what the king didn't know was that it had not been a mere dream at all, but a true event, the witch had carefully and speedily stolen the spool from his breast-pocket and taken it for herself. So that he wouldn't realize his loss right away and attempt to stop her before she could complete the evil deed she had in store for the children, she had taken another spool of thread the same shape and size that was also a golden-colour vaguely similar to the real magic thread. Of course, upon close examination, any fool could see they were not the same but in the darkness of night, or in deep mental distress, when one wasn't focusing as closely on the minor details as they ought to be, it was a close enough match.
Now, with the thread and the four embroidered white shirts all finished and wrapped up in a smooth bolt of azure silk, Jadis smiled to herself and had her reindeers prepared and hitched up to her sledge. Shortly before sun-rise traveling across the ice and snow at an absurdly fast speed, she went to the lantern waste. Her reindeer could not enter the thicket so she stepped out leaving the sledge behind; the shirts and the thread she carried in her arms until she reached the lamppost.
"Show me the way to the children." She whispered darkly, dropping the spool into the ground and waiting for it to roll its way to the children.
It took a moment, as though somehow the thread itself sensed there was something amiss about the situation but just as Jadis was about to give it a swift kick, the spool started rolling and showed the way.
The witch followed the thread up to the bridge; across from which she could see a familiar young dark-haired boy, his pale cheeks rosy from the cold, carving a small snow-castle out of a large lump of snow only a couple of feet away from the frozen stream.
Although Edmund had been rather tired of playing in the snow, he'd begun to find inside just as dull and had longed for something different. Peter, who seemed sort of depressed for some reason or other, was upstairs laid-out in his bed in a sort of fake-nap (His eyes were closed but you could tell he wasn't actually sleeping; just kind of resting in himself). Susan was still trying to teach Lucy needle-point and of course Edmund had had no interest in learning anything like that, so he had quietly slipped out the door to amuse himself-deciding that they wouldn't miss him for a few measly hours.
Outside, it had felt extremely cold, even for winter, but he had on his new winter coat and his thick gloves which made it almost bearable. He tried to ignore the fact that his very visible breath seemed to freeze in mid-air for unnaturally long amounts of time and amused himself by focusing on the snow lump next to the stream. In his mind, he pictured a castle sort of like Cair Paravel but frozen solid; with a throne room made out of giant pillars of ice and little diamond-shaped windows that weren't really diamonds at all but were only hard ice cut in rhombus shapes. Of course, he wasn't silly enough to think he could make an exact little copy out of his pathetic lump, but he thought perhaps he might make something worth looking at until spring came around and it melted away into nothing.
Then a chill breeze blew passed him, nearly scrapping the skin off of his now red nose and making his eyes water and smart terribly; looking up at the bridge he saw someone standing there. At once, he could tell it wasn't their father so he stood up, brushed the snow off his knees and prepared to run back for the tower at the first signs of danger.
But the person on the bridge came closer and he saw that it was a lady dressed in white furs carrying something wrapped tightly in a buddle in her arms. Curiously, he blinked through the snowflakes which had suddenly seemed to stop falling altogether.
"Edmund," She smiled slowly at him, her bright eyes flashing; she was pleased to see he was alone. He was child's play, really, always the easiest to use for her own gain. "I've missed you."
Edmund didn't answer; feeling quite sick to his stomach all of a sudden. He wanted to turn around and run and run without stopping but for the first time since the day their father had brought them to this place, he could feel the tugging on the back of his shirt again. He was terribly afraid of Jadis for that short moment, certain that she was doing something horrible to him that he could not stop, but then he thought for a moment he saw his mother's face in her's again and remembered that this was no one to be feared, only their dear stepmother, only harmless 'Mother Jadis' whom he had been so fond of. And she'd missed him! How very guilty he felt that he hadn't thought of her even once in all this time.
She has always been so jolly nice to me, Edmund thought-shaking his head shamefully, and I didn't even bother to ask father how she was doing, and now she's come to visit and I've very nearly turned and tried to run away from her, what horrid beast of a stepson I am being! I must make her feel welcome here, father wouldn't like it if I didn't, I'm sure.
"Hullo." He said in the nicest tone he could manage. "How did you find us?"
"Oh, your father told me, of course!" Jadis laughed, making her voice sound as merry and pleasant as possible. "You didn't think I was unaware of your whereabouts all this time, did you?"
"Well father said it was a secret holiday." Edmund explained, realizing that he was still shouting across the bridge because she hadn't come over to him yet.
She laughed again. "Dear child, bless you! You thought...honestly, what mother can stand not knowing where her children are?" With that, she came across the bridge and put a strong white hand on his shoulder.
"Have you come to see our palace?" Edmund asked, trying to make conversation.
"I've come with presents, my dear." She unfolded the buddle and took out one of the white shirts. "I've made you all little shirts. Aren't they sweet?" She beamed at him, replacing one of her hands on his shoulder again. "I've sewn each one by hand."
"Um...thank you." Edmund managed to blurt out politely.
For the most part, it was a pretty ordinary-looking shirt but it seemed about the right size for him and there were strange little patterns that Edmund could not understand or figure out embroidered around the collar and the hem at the bottom. They were strange little designs that seemed to be neither words nor pictures but somewhere in-between; he had never seen such symbols before and secretly wondered what they meant, in spite of himself.
She looked down at him for a little while longer before a big grin spread across her face. "I've just had the most wonderful idea, my Edmund."
"What is it?" He asked, watching her fold up the shirt and tuck it back into the buddle with the others.
"A wonderful surprise for my other three sweethearts." She took her hand off his shoulder so that she could clap both her hands together excitedly. "Supposing you don't tell them that I've come and you take the shirts into your little home there and say, 'look at these, aren't they nice? Let's try them on' or something like that. A clever boy like you could easily come up with something decent to say about it. It would be our little secret surprise for them; then, I could come out of maybe a corner or something and see how lovely you all look in your new shirts."
Part of Edmund was more than willing to do as she suggested but there was another part of him that seemed to be trying to warn him that this was a sort of betrayal. If he did this, he was betraying his whole family. In the end, though, looking at his 'Mother Jadis' as she held out the buddle to him eagerly, urging him to take it, he gave in.
Meanwhile, King Frank, discovering that the witch wasn't anywhere to be found in the castle, had decided to take off secretly when his servants' backs were turned and to go to his children. For some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling that they needed him today; that if he didn't get there and soon, something horrible would befall them. So barely bothering to make sure his horse was even tacked up properly, he raced towards the lantern waste, arriving some hours after Jadis had given Edmund the shirts and followed him into the tower-palace.
Quickly he pulled out the spool and dropped it onto the ground. Nothing happened. It didn't move. How could he find his children when the spool would not roll, when the thread would not show him the way? Picking it up, he discovered with sudden horror, that this was not the magic thread. This was a simple, pointless, unmagical decoy. Jadis must have gotten the real thread somehow and had used to this to trick him into thinking otherwise.
"No!" He screamed out, tears rolling down his cheeks like rain as he squinted through them seeing nothing but snow ahead, no path way to his children's tower to be found. "No! Nooooooo!"
When Edmund led Jadis into the tower-palace and hid her behind one of the longer velvet tapestries in the hallway (she was too tall to hide anywhere else), he found that Susan was not sitting where he had last seen her. He could find only Lucy, who was sitting at a table with an oil lamp and a few coloured pencils drawing little pictures of lions and flowers and other things of the sort that she was fond of.
"Lucy," he asked as causally as possible. "where's Susan and Peter?"
"Peter is still upstairs but Su's gone out to look for you, we didn't know where you'd gone and we were worried." She explained, without looking up.
When Lucy finally did look up and saw his face, she let out a gasp and shuddered slightly. "Oh!"
"What is it?" Edmund demanded almost crossly, folding his arms across his chest.
"Are you alright?" Lucy asked in a low voice-almost a whisper-as she stood up, not bothering to smooth out her slightly ruffled skirt, and walked over to her brother. "You look awful."
"Well what do you expect? It's freezing outside." Edmund came up with.
"But there's something terrible in your face, Ed." Lucy now looked like she wanted to cry-to burst into hysterical wails all over nothing-and he felt the oddest desire to smack her for it. He really might have done so if Peter hadn't come down the stairs and walked into the room at that very moment. Edmund wasn't stupid enough to try to smack Lucy in front of Peter, that was just asking for trouble.
"There you are," Peter said, nodding acknowledgingly at Edmund. "I thought you would come back on your own; Susan disagreed, so she went out to look for you."
Edmund wasn't sure why, but all of a sudden, he wasn't very fond of his brother either; it was as if an invisible barrier separated him from caring about those whom he had loved so dearly this morning. Now, he almost hated them for no reason at all. No, there was a reason! It was the way they kept on looking at him now, as if there was something the matter with him. There wasn't, there wasn't! He was fine! He wasn't doing anything wrong, only helping their kind stepmother with a surprise for them. So why did he feel so bad? Why did he have that horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach-a feeling he usually associated with having eaten too much Turkish Delight at one of their many royal banquets they'd had growing up at Cair Paravel?
'Mother Jadis' was still behind the tapestry, waiting for him to show the others their presents and as it could be any amount of time until Susan came back from where ever she'd gone to look for him, he decided he wouldn't wait for her. After all, Jadis couldn't hide for too much longer, could she? Even if she could, who would like that? So Edmund unwrapped the buddle and showed two of the shirts to the eldest and to the youngest.
"Look," Edmund said, holding one of them up to show them. "Aren't they nice?"
Lucy thought the shirts themselves were rather pretty, for the fabric was very fine, but she noticed the crude embroidery and found herself for some reason or other, reminded of the wicked stepmother they had been taken here for safety from, and shook her head. They weren't pretty shirts at all, they were awful.
As for Peter, he sensed something amiss but the name, 'Jadis' never actually came to his mind. "Edmund, where did you get these?"
"No matter." Edmund brushed their worries off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Just try them on, I'll tell you later."
"I suppose it couldn't do any harm..." Peter mused unsurely, picking up the smooth fabric and rolling it up so that he could stick his head through the collar.
Though Lucy didn't like the shirts, as soon as she saw her trusted elder brother putting his on, she reached for her own and started to put it on, too.
Jadis, still hiding, however, was furious. You little idiot, she thought-peering over at Edmund as he put on his shirt as well, you were supposed to wait until you had all your siblings with you! Goodness, do I have to do everything myself?
Peter's shirt was still bunched up at the top because he had not pulled it down all the way, reaching upwards to do so, he caught sight of Edmund's face which was far whiter even than it had been a few moments ago and noticed a single white feather sprouting at the young boy's neck. Instantly, he leapt over to Lucy to pull the shirt off of her in hopes of rescuing her from their now apparent betrayal. If he hadn't done so, if he had simply taken off his own, he might have saved himself. But he didn't and, lunging over at his little sister, the rest of his shirt fell all the way over him and he started to change, too.
Within a few moments, where there had stood three royal children in embroidered white shirts, there now stood three beautiful swans. The smallest swan, Lucy, had a little garland of white-gold on her head. The largest, Peter, wore a fine golden crown. And the middle-sized one, Edmund, wore a cap of plain silver on his head. This was because, swans or not, Lucy was still a princess, Peter was still a crowned prince, and Edmund-traitor now though he was-still remained of royal blood himself.
What have I done? Thought Edmund despairingly, looking across at the two birds that had once been his siblings, his love for them rushing back as he realized what horror he had brought upon them. His heart was breaking and just when he thought he could take no more, Jadis stepped out and cast an evil glower at them.
"Fly," She said cruelly, flicking her fingers at them. "Fly out into the world as worthless birds."
The poor swans flew into the hallway at the very moment that the front door opened and Susan stood there, her mouth frozen with horror at what she saw.
Three swans few out, two flying off one way, the other (Edmund) flying off in a completely different direction as he could not bear to be near the other two a moment longer, and Jadis standing there right in front of her.
Run, just run, was all Susan could think as she dashed helplessly away from the witch into the forest, over the bridge, not stopping to think or rest. Her siblings even could not cross her mind; she thought only of making her two legs flee as fast as possible from the tower-it was no longer safe nor secret.
A few inches away from the lamppost, King Frank was sprawled out on the snowy ground with his tears frozen to his face which was now blue with cold and he was sobbing helplessly, "No...no...dear Aslan, no..." He could say nothing else, he could think nothing else, he was completely broken.
Then, a voice called out to him, "Father!"
His eyes blinked and he turned just slightly until he caught sight of his oldest daughter, terrified and breathless, collapsing in the snow right beside him, too exhausted to keep on running. She had run all the way from the tower to the lamppost without even knowing where she was going.
After that, it was all black until Susan heard what she thought sounded like hooves click-clacking on the snow and a polite, startled little voice above exclaiming, "Good gracious!"
AN: So? Feedback? Please review!