Hey, guys!
I'm sad to announce that I am back with the second to last chapter (I decided to write up a super short epilogue, so yeah)…. But on the brightish side, it's a double update! :(
Also, thank you for all the reviews- they really mean a lot to me!
Stay awesome… here we go, Chapter 13, I hope you guys like it…..
Enjoy!
Narnia, three weeks after the disappearance
The era's end and stars shall fall.
These simple words echoed around Emily's room; simple words, that had so much meaning.
She kept repeating them over and over out loud, trying to make some logical sense of the situation. The falling stars had taken place a week ago, symbolizing the end of the rule of the house of Pevensie.
Already, skirmishes and rebellions had suddenly broken out all across the kingdom. Remaining supporters of the White Witch-who had been in hiding-, had openly attacked Beaverstown not even three days later. Emily, upon hearing of the attack, had immediately gone to the village and had put an end to the riot.
However, these riots were more of a distraction. What had really been setting her on edge were the reports of Telmarine soldiers grouped near Narnia's Western border.
Her vision of the war against Telmar seemed to be drawing close at a rapid speed.
Said country, who had been at peace and harmony with Narnia until this point, claimed that these troops were only 'scouts' and weren't ordered to do anything but that. However, Emily didn't think that that was the case.
The door was pushed open with a light creak.
"Milady, you are needed in the council."
The girl turned to face Alyssia.
"Thank you Alyssia, I will be down in a moment."
"Of course," she said, and left the room quietly.
Emily took her seat in the straight-backed wooden chair at the head of the council table; taking a deep breath, she started the council meeting.
"Rhys," she said, addressing the female centaur to her right, "do we have any updates on the Telmarine movements?"
"No Milady. The soldiers have been strangely quiet this past week. I have doubled the guard though, just in case they should try a surprise attack."
"If that is the only news, why call a meeting when there is nothing to meet about?" Emily asked, a hint of annoyance coloring her tone.
"Because My Lady," Orieus said hurriedly, taking a cloth-covered object from the faun Uesli, "we have recovered the Gentle Queen's horn. It was in the possession of a black dwarf we apprehended during the Beaverstown attack."
He removed the dark cloth to show the assembled Narnians an elegantly crafted ivory horn.
"That is wonderful, Orieus. Praise Aslan we have found it before-"Emily broke off as the ground shook.
Pens, papers, glasses all rolled around as Cair Paravel trembled violently. The Guardian grabbed the great mahogany table to steady herself.
"What was that?" she asked rhetorically.
The hall doors swung open just as the words left her mouth.
Standing in the stone doorway was a faun, who looked no older than the age of fourteen.
"My Lady," he cried, "There is something that you must see!"
There was something, not panic, laced in the boy's voice that made Emily rise hastily.
"I will be back. No one leave this room, until this is resolved."
Emily followed the faun through the castle, to one of the Cair's upper balconies.
"Look," he said, pointing out over the Great Woods.
Emily drew a sharp breath in shock, and swore softly under her breath.
The trees-hundreds of them- who had a moment ago been swaying, dancing, in the wind, had all grown completely and utterly still.
"The trees, Milady, they've gone silent."
The girl looked at the faun kindly.
"What is your name?"
"Fo…Folios…" he stammered quickly.
"Folios, I fear that the trees are, along with the rest of Narnia, are mourning the loss of our Kings and Queens."
Emily didn't think this was the only cause; there was something deeper going on, something that even the trees were frightened of.
A sudden movement below caught the Guardian's eye.
As she moved forward to get a better view, a sudden gust of wind rose, and pushed her over the short rail.
"Milady!" Folios cried, rushing to the rail.
Emily clawed desperately at the sleek marble, trying to find a handhold, to no avail.
The last thing she heard before blacking out was a lion's roar, and a familiar voice calling her name.
England, 1941 (towards the end of the Blitz)
"Well, you four have a safe trip back to Finchley," Mrs. Macready told the four Pevensies, handing Peter their tickets.
The woman had grown considerably warmer towards the siblings over the eight months they had stayed in the Professor's home. She was especially fond of Lucy, ever since she found out about Lucy's love to paint. It turns out the housekeeper herself had been somewhat of an artist before coming to work for the Professor.
"Hurry on then, we wouldn't want you to miss the train," she said sternly, "and remember-there are sandwiches in your satchels in case you get hungry."
After receiving hugs from the former artist, the four hurriedly boarded the train, and waved until they rounded a bend and the platform dropped out of sight.
Settling into their seats, the four Pevensies looked at each other.
"What do you suppose we do now?" Lucy asked.
"What do you mean?" Susan asked her younger sister curiously.
"Well, does Aslan know where we live so that he can call us back again?"
"If we go back again."
Susan glanced at Peter.
"No need to be so dreary, what's bothering you?"
The eldest boy continued his task of watching the countryside pass by in silence.
After a few moments of a nerve-racking quiet, Edmund spoke up.
"It's Emily, isn't it Pete?"
The slight tension that appeared around Peter's mouth was enough to let his siblings know that this was indeed the case.
"I'm sure she is fine Pete. She is the strongest person we, well, I know," Edmund said, sending his brother a sympathetic smile.
"I guess," Peter said in a bland voice, "you two should get some sleep. It's a long way back to Finchley."
Lucy gave her oldest brother a reassuring and comforting hug, before returning to her seat next to Edmund; placing her head on his shoulder, and within moments, lulled by the soft rocking of the train, they two young ones were fast asleep.
Susan reached into her bag and pulled out a thick leather-bound book-The complete case files of Sherlock Holmes- and started to read. Peter, on the other hand leaned against the cool glass window, and mindlessly watched the greenery fly by.
Sooner, rather than later, the train entered London, and pulled into the station with a shuddering stop.
"Lu, Ed, wake up," the two older children said, gently shaking their younger siblings awake.
"Whassa'matter?" Edmund asked blearily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"We're here," Peter said somberly, "we're in Finchley."
Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy each took hold of their satchels, and the two older ones took hold of the additional suitcases.
Moving through the tearful passengers leaving the train, the four Pevensie s glanced around eagerly, anxiously searching for their Mother.
"Look! Over there!" Lucy cried happily, pointing to the far side of the station.
"Mum! MUM!"
Helen Pevensie turned at the sound of her youngest daughter's voice.
"Lucy. Oh my Lucy!" She cried, tears streaming down her face as she embraced the young girl tightly.
The other three followed suit. Wrapping their arms tightly around their mother, not a dry eye could be seen on the family's faces.
"I'm so glad you're safe, I'm so glad," Helen said, burying her face into Peter's shoulder.
"You've grown," she exclaimed suddenly, "of course you have, and it's been a while."
Her face suddenly changed.
"What am I doing here bothering you?! You four must be exhausted and starving. I'll put something up."
And that was how the four, well, five Pevensies had ended up outside their small, English townhouse.
"I'll have dinner ready in a jiffy, OK? Go put your things away, and wash up," Helen Pevensie said to her children, leading the way into the house.
The four children climbed the stairs carefully, and entered their respectful rooms; Edmund and Peter, Susan and Lucy.
After unpacking, the two boys went across the hall to the girl's room. They had finished as well, and the
group sat there in an awkward silence until Edmund spoke up.
"Do you remember the day we convinced Mr. Tumnus that we all shared a birthday?"
The others looked at Edmund.
"You tried to convince him; we all stood there and laughed at the attempt."
Edmund blushed with embarrassment at Peter's statement.
"Well, what about the time Corin of Archenland came to ask you for Lucy's hand?"
Now it was the High Kings turn to blush. Everyone remembered that incident.
*"His Highness, Prince Corin of Archenland!"
The young Prince entered the room, and bowed to the four monarchs.
"My Lords," he said to the brothers, "My Ladies."
He walked over to the Queens and knelt, lightly brushing his lips over their outstretched hands.
"What brings you here friend? A journey from Archenland to Cair Paravel alone is no small feat, even in the best of times," Edmund, being the diplomat of the group, asked.
"I have come with a question, a request really," he turned to Lucy, "My Lady, tales of your beauty have traveled far and wide; but I must say that you are even more beautiful in person, more than I could ever have imagined."
Lucy smiled at him.
"Flattery can get you many places in life, young Prince, but would you care to elaborate slightly?" Peter said, addressing Corin.
"My King, I have come to ask for Queen Lucy's hand-"
"In marriage?" Edmund cut in, watching the Prince carefully.
Corin nodded.
"Prince Corin, you do understand the weight of your actions, yes?"
The Prince gulped.
"What… What do you mean?"
"I must warn you, my royal sister is very adept with her dagger, and if you are to harm her in any way-" Peter lowered his voice to a whisper, "- Narnia and Archenland might be at war in the future."
Corin of Archenland paled. His eyes widened in fear, and he took a step back.
" Maybe we should ask the Queen her opinion?" Edmund asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"Corin, you are a wonderful person. However, I am not eighteen yet, and still belong to the house of my family. I am sorry Corin, but I must decline your offer."
Corin looked visibly ambivalent.
"Of course, My Lady, your wishes are most respected."
The Prince bowed deeply and slowly exited the room, shaking his head in the progress.
The doors closed once more, and the four siblings burst into laughter.
"You know Peter; you didn't need to be so harsh with him. You scared him- I wouldn't be surprised if we get a messenger from King Lune in two nights time complaining that his son is shell-shocked," Susan said with a faint smile.*
"I still feel bad for the poor bloke, you bloody terrified him Pete!" Edmund said with a laugh.
That's how the siblings went, back and forth for hours, passing the time, fondly remembering their favorite adventures from their time in Narnia.
Unbeknownst to the eldest Pevensie, his siblings were doing this for him-no matter how much it hurt them emotionally- to raise his spirits.
About an hour later, Helen Pevensie's soft voice drifted up the stairs.
"Dinner is ready!"
Edmund, followed by Susan, stood, left the room and headed downstairs.
Lucy, who went to follow them, noticed that her older brother hadn't moved from his spot on the edge of her bed.
She went over to him with a sigh.
"What's wrong Peter?" she asked, placing her hand gently over his.
He looked at her. There was a flicker of sadness in his blue eyes.
"I'm worried about Emily. I know Lu, I know, she's strong and I know that Kalis and Orieus will help keep
Narnia stable, but I can't help feel guilty for leaving everything in her hands. You know how much she hates politics."
"Peter, we didn't exactly choose to leave; Aslan did. The only thing we can do now is pray that we will be called back soon."
The boy locked eyes with Lucy. What he saw was not what he expected to see.
Behind the eyes of his ten year-old sister who was afraid of the dark, he saw Queen Lucy the Valiant of Narnia. The woman who had followed him out to battle to treat the wounded, and the shoulder he always knew he could cry on.
"I know Lucy, but it doesn't help with the guilt," he paused to take a breath, "I'm scared Lu. I can't fathom being 16 again. To be treated like a child again."
Lucy Pevensie watched her older brother. She understood what he was going through, she herself had been 25 during the chase if the White Stag, but she figured that for her older brother it was a larger blow; he was used to commanding armies, being called to top secret council meetings, not be stuck in 10th grade math.
"Pete, listen, hope is the only thing stronger than fear. As long as you have hope, you'll be fine; so stop being a worry-wart and enjoy yourself. Please."
The High King shook his head playfully.
"You're right. Lead on, my royal sister, lead on."
Lucy smiled, and led the way downstairs. With a small sigh, Peter followed.
Narnia, three weeks after the disappearance
"What is taking so long?" Kalis wondered aloud nervously.
"I would not worry brother," Orieus replied, "I am sure-"
The hall doors burst open suddenly, revealing an ashen-faced faun; the same one who had come to retrieve Emily.
"What has happened? Where is Lady Emily?" Kalis demanded concern clear as day in his tone.
"She….She…." the young faun gulped nervously, a tear leaking unwillingly down the side of his face.
"She's what, Folios?" Mr. Tumnus asked him kindly.
"I'm sorry my Lords," he hung his head, "She's gone."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN GONE, FAUN?!" Kalis roared with anger, drawing himself up to his full height, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
Folios stumbled back, away, from the council, his eyes shining with fear.
"No….Nothing! I have done nothing! I swear it on the lion! She fell from the balcony and…. And…." He stammered. Folios' heart was beating like a drum, and he was trembling in fear.
"And what?" Mr. Tumnus asked, coming up to the boy.
"She disappeared in a golden light."
Kalis let out a roar of outrage as he charged at the faun, sword brandished.
He placed the point underneath the boy's chin, far enough that Folios could feel the steel's bite, but no blood would be drawn.
"I will ask you once more. Where is Lady Emily?" Kalis asked, his voice laced with steel.
The faun looked up at the Guardians most trusted war advisor.
Within a moment, Kalis had staggered back, sword at his side, his face a mix of shock and startlement.
Murmurs were heard from across the room as the other council members watched the young faun with a horrified interest.
Folios eyes had begun to glow an amber-like gold.
"Peace, Kalis," he said; but the faun's voice was not his own. The voice that escaped his lips was deep and soothing, mellifluous and calming.
"As…Aslan?" the centaur stammered, the color draining from his face.
"Yes, child."
It was odd, odd to hear the Great Lion through the body of a child.
The council, and the two brothers, knelt hastily out of respect for their King.
"Rise, my children; there is no need to kneel under the circumstances."
"Tell me Kalis, why did you attack young Folios?" the Lion's voice was cool, but full of disappointment.
"My liege, I thought he had harmed Lady Emi-"
"And why would you think such a thing?" Aslan cut in.
Kalis was at a loss for words. He stared down at the white flagstones, memorizing every crack in them. He knew his actions had not been completely appropriate, but he cared for the Guardian as if she was his own kin.
Orieus hurriedly came to his brother's defense.
"Remaining supporters of the Witch have been causing uprisings, sire. My brother only assumed-"
"You centaurs, always of a swift judgement; have you forgotten that is was the dwarves who stood with the ice, nay the fauns who have always stood with Narnia?"
"Please Aslan, what of Emily?" Kalis pleaded, finally building up the courage to face the lion- well faun- once more.
"As it was the time of the Kings and Queens to return during their chase after the White Stag; such it was Emily's time to return home now," Folios said in Aslan's voice, "you and your brother, along with Narnia herself, must prepare. A war is coming. Beware."
The faun's eyes filled with a blinding light.
Narnia's war council averted their gazes as Folios crumbled and turned into golden sand with a faint sigh.
Shaken visibly, the two centaurs returned to their seats around the wooden table. Orieus raised his eyes, meeting the burning stares of his fellow Narnians with one equally as cool.
"Let the War Council of Narnia come to order!"
England, 1941
Emily opened her eyes with a gasp. The last thing she remembered was falling, and a lion's roar; but where in Aslan's name was she?
The Guardian glanced around at her surroundings. Two spare beds, that looked recently used, and a mirror near the door.
Pushing back the brown coverlet, Emily stood, and smoothed out her skirt…. Wait… she had not been wearing a skirt in Narnia.
Emily moved to the mirror and stood, gaping at her reflection. She wore a light gray sweater, with a blue and brown plaid skirt; her Narnian hunting boots adorned her feet. Her blonde hair was pulled back into her trademark plait.
England.
The single word sent a shockwave of memories tumbling through her mind.
A crowded train platform. Professor Kirke's kind face. The Wardrobe.
Inhaling shakily, Emily swallowed hard, and opened the bedroom door; starting to walk down the faintly familiar halls.
Emily passed the Library and stopped, remembering her first real, intimate conversation with Peter, and the game of Hide-and-Seek which had started their whole adventure.
She continued walking.
As the girl drew closer to the Dining room, she began to hear two people, one comforting the other.
"I'm sure she is perfectly fine Amelia. Emily is strong…." It was Professor Kirke.
"I know Professor…. Sorry, Diggory, old habits die hard. I guess I'm just worried for her. I am her mother after all."
"If you weren't worried, Iwould be worried. But Amelia, Aslan will watch over her, I promise."
A third voice suddenly cut over the Professor and Amelia's worried tones.
"I hope those four have a safe trip back to Finchley, the house will be very quiet without them. I miss them already… especially Lucy..." Mrs. Macready said, followed by a faint response from one of the servants (Ivy maybe?).
Emily lurched away from her hiding space near the Dining room doorway, her mind spinning.
Back to Finchley? How much time has passed that they are going back? Emily thought in panic.
Mrs. Macready turned the corner, trailed by Ivy, holding a metal tray which held a water jug, two glasses, and a bowl of fruit- and saw Emily.
With a piercing shriek of shock and disbelief, the housekeeper dropped the tray. The glasses shattered, water sprayed everywhere, and fruit flew across the hallway.
"Dana! What on earth is going on?"
The Professor stood in the doorway, surveying the mess.
With a jolt, Emily realized that he was talking to Mrs. Macready.
That's when Amelia Clarke decided to make her appearance at his side.
"What's going….Emily?"
The Professor turned to watch the young girl. His face turned to a mix of relief, joy, compassion, and respect.
Amelia ran towards her daughter and pulled her into a bone crushing hug.
"Emmy… By Jove…..Emily…..Thank God you're safe. I missed you, I thought..." she choked on tears, "…I thought I wouldn't see you again."
Amelia Clarke's voice cracked with emotion as she started sobbing into Emily, her only daughter's, shoulder.
"It's all right mom…. I promise…. I'm here, I'm here…. Shhh…" Emily soothed her, stroking her mother's blond hair.
It was an odd, but beautifully touching, scene. Daughter comforted Mother, as the Professor and Housekeeper looked on, watching the pair with sympathy, tears, and a shared smile.
The next day….
Eight months*. More than half a year. That was the amount of time that had passed in England while Emily had been in Narnia (only three weeks had passed there).
Emily sat in the Wardrobe room, contemplating this.
How could so much time have passed?
The faint creak of the door made Emily whip around quickly.
"Professor Kirke!"
The kind man stood just inside the room, smiling at her.
"I thought I would find you here," he joined her on the hardwood floor. "How are you Emily?"
"I am well, thanks. How are you?" she replied politely, watching him curiously.
He nodded in response.
"The night after the Pevensies came back from Narnia, I found little Lucy Pevensies trying to return through the Wardrobe. Do you know what I told her?"
Emily shook her head.
"You'll be called back into Narnia when you least expect it. Don't worry Emily, I am sure you will be called back when Narnia when it is need of its Guardian once more. But until then, what's to say, keep your eyes open."
He stood up, smoothing his tweed jacket in the process.
"Professor," Emily called out, turning in her seat, a sudden desire to be outdoors seizing her.
"Yes?" he asked, turning to face her from the doorway.
The Guardian looked at him, her brown eyes gleaming with hope, and a childish joy.
"Do you have a horse?"
* I'm guesstimating here based on historical dates, of you guys know how long the Pevensies stayed at Professor Kirke, let me know!
That was chapter 13….. I'll write a longer ending authors note next chapter, but until then….
Ttyl
Liz