The Open Door
When you're safe at home you wish you were having an adventure; when you're having an adventure you wish you were safe at home.
~ Thornton Wilder
Peter was the first to wake the next morning.
He was lying in a big four posted bed and for a moment, as he looked up at the paintings on the walls and saw the dark wood of a highboy next to the window, he thought he was in England again, at the Professor's house. Then he saw the snow in great stretches of white beyond the window and knew that he was still in Narnia.
Narnia.
At the thought a feeling of grief washed over him, immediately followed by a queer feeling of delight. They were still there.
He had slept with his sword. For some strange reason, he didn't want to be parted with it, and groping into the coverlet, he lifted the hilt and drew it near him, half unsheathing the blade.
Light, in the old speech.
"Will you ever shine for me?" he asked it quietly, running his thumb along the dark, rippling blade.
Quickly, he pushed it back in the sheath and looked up as a knock came at the door.
"Come in!"
Susan put her head in hesitantly, a shawl around her shoulders, then stepped into the room, quietly closing the door.
"I was just admiring the view," Peter commented, sitting up.
"It's a very nice view," Susan said, sitting down on the bed, pulling her legs up under her nightgown.
"What's wrong?" Peter asked quietly.
She glanced at him, then looked away and he saw tears overflowing her dark eyes to tumble, shining, down her cheeks. He patted her back, not sure of what else to do.
"I was just thinking about Mum and Dad," she said at last. "What do you suppose they're thinking? They'll have heard that we've gone missing by now."
"The professor will explain," Peter said uncertainly.
"And you think they'll believe him?" Susan asked with a little laugh, looking up at him. "They're going to spend the rest of their lives knowing that all their children vanished one day and never turned up… and what about Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold? Eustace is their reason for living."
"We'll get home again," Peter said, then reached out to pull her towards him. Her head fell to his shoulder and he could smell lavender in her dark hair.
"What if we don't?" Susan asked. "There's some sort of powerful magic that is simply determined to keep us here."
"Yes…" Peter trailed off. "And I think… I know… somehow it will turn out all right. It's more than just us, Susan; it's everybody here, the prophecy, the wardrobe. Can't you feel it in your bones? We were meant to do this since even before we were born and now everything has fallen into place perfectly. Sometimes we've got to do things even if it really hurts; we aren't us any more, we're the fulfillment of a prophecy. I really think it will keep going right; after all, we're not dead yet."
"We may soon be."
"Yes," Peter agreed. "But let's try to avoid it. I don't want to die either… I think anything would be better than that."
~o*o~
When Susan finally went back to her own room, Peter climbed out of bed, shivering, to get dressed, then went out into the hallway to see if anyone else was awake. He put his head into Edmund's room and could just see his brother's tousled head and knew that he was still asleep and would sleep until Kingdom Come if allowed.
"Hey Ed! Wake up!" he hollered, then ducked out the door as Edmund threw his pillow.
"Missed!" he called through the wall.
The next door let him into Lucy's room; she was sleeping peacefully and he didn't have the heart to wake her. He knew Edmund would have been incensed by his reasoning.
Grinning, he went down the stairs. He opened the door on the landing and found himself in a beautifully furnished sitting room with a magnificent view down the hillside. He stood gazing out, wondering what it would look like when it was all green, when there was grass growing where the snow was, when there were leaves on the ice laden branches of the trees.
Soon they would leave it all behind and would be safe.
Yet, despite it all, with a feeling of surprise, he realized that he would miss it when he crossed the border into Archenland. It wasn't just the excitement of the place, the bone tingling danger, it was the spirit of the land; somehow it seemed that it had a soul of its own.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Peter turned and saw Aetos standing behind him. In the morning light the faun looked even frailer than before; a tiny, wizened thing with a wispy beard.
"Yes," Peter said. "It's a strange place, but I feel bound to it somehow."
"Of course you do," Aetos said. "Everyone who sets foot in it feels that way. Narnia has a way of consuming until her cause becomes yours. Even Jadis, though her ways are twisted. She came back."
"She has my cousin," Peter said. "It was because of him that we came. We want to find a way to set him free."
"Only Aslan can help you."
"What is Aslan?" Peter asked, turning to him suddenly.
"I would think you would have been told."
"I was told that he created the world and that he lives across the sea," Peter replied. "But, what is he? Is he some sort of Wizard or Necromancer?"
"No, nothing like that, I don't believe anyone knows what he really is," Aetos gazed out the window, seeing, but not seeing. "Not truly. He's too big to see, too deep to comprehend, too wise to understand. He is good; his is a righteous anger and the deepest love."
"How do we know he is good?"
"He created the light, he cannot be darkness," Aetos said. "When he appears he appears in the shape of a lion; he is a lion, but in the same way he is not a lion. He is beast and creator all at once. How, I do not understand."
"I long to meet him," Peter said at last. "But at the same time I fear him."
"No one in his right mind does not fear him," Aetos said. "He is to be feared, but he is also to be loved."
Peter turned to look at him, his brow furrowed with thought, his eyes dark. "Sir, I'm afraid to die."
"Are you afraid of the pain? Or the moment after you are dead?"
"Both, I think." Peter replied. "I don't think I have the courage to face it."
"But you have the will," Aetos said, peering at him over his spectacles. "A young, growing thing like you must be hungry, shall we go have breakfast?"
~o*o~
"I feel like we've been here forever and ever," Lucy commented from her perch on Bruinhild's back.
Susan gazed up at her, a look of pain in her eyes.
Two hours after leaving Aetos' dwelling they were in the hills, trudging up into tortured copses of trees, broken and battered by wind and ice. The wind bit harder here than it ever had lower down; Aetos had given them all woolen cloaks to wear over their coats and they were warmer, but they could still feel the cold biting through them.
As they passed a strange rock formation, they turned to watch with foreboding as dark storm clouds came down and gathered in the skies above them. The whole eastern horizon was glowing with salmon light, running with rivers like tide-streams in the roiling ocean of the sky.
The snowflakes came slowly at first, spiraling down, flashing light, strangely stark against the murky clouds that sank towards them. They fell more and more quickly, twisting, Edmund thought, like goose down after a pillow fight.
The snow filled the air, driving down in a mist, blotting out everything but what was immediately around them. They ducked their heads against the stinging of it, trying not to breath it in and the centaurs turned in a circle to clasp each other's hands; for the air was so thick with snow they could barely see each other.
"This is the Witch's doing, I'll wager," Flavis said, shouting over the wind that was rising around them.
Lucy felt that the wind cut right through her, as if she wasn't wearing her winter coat at all and Edmund, who huddled next to her in the snow, wrapped her in his cloak to keep her warm.
The snow came harder, driving into every corner of their clothing and trickling down their backs as it melted. It made white breastplates on their coats and crowned them with snowy berets. The centaurs could feel the creeping cold on their legs and the rest who huddled in the space between them were completely covered with a heavy blanket of white.
How long it went on like this, none of them knew; it could have been hours or only a few minutes, but each time the storm seemed to tire, it attacked again with renewed vigor. At last with a sigh, as if it were unbearably weary, the wind ceased to blow and the clouds, now spent, began to rise.
It was almost as if someone was lifting the corners of a heavy blanket that had been thrown over them and they began to be able to see farther and farther, until again the mountains of Archenland rose in the cold mist above them.
The centaurs shifted and heavy moulds of snow fell in pieces from the humans as they stood up. It was not damp snow, but very dry and hard packed by the insurmountable force of the wind.
"We must continue on, friends," Martin said, "I have no uncertainty that that was some last ditch attempt by the Witch to keep us from accomplishing our goal. I have little doubt that she has more in store for us."
Almost as soon as he finished talking, they heard the wolves again.
Looking behind them, they saw the wolves rippling out of the woods like liquid silver. They were coming fast, very fast over the snow, hard packed by the blizzard. It was not strong enough to support a centaur, but to the wolves it was like a floor of marble.
"They're awfully close," Lucy said, looking over Edmund's arm.
"By Aslan's grace we can out run them!" Equus exclaimed, half rearing, "Quick, you humans, on our backs!"
The children stared in awe, then, after great urging, struggled onto the broad backs of the Centaurs, all except Lucy, who returned to her place high on Bruinhild's shoulders. They turned and bounded through the snow, much the way a deer bounds over a brook in the woods. Flavis bent down at full gallop and picked up Treve by the tail.
"Sorry," he said, cradling the young fox in the crook of his arm, "it was the only thing handy."
Edmund glanced back and saw the wolves, streaking low to the ground towards them; they were now very close.
"Shall I draw my sword?" he asked.
"No," Martin panted. "It would not aid anyone if you chopped off my head."
"Maybe we can slow them down!" Ergo flapped off Equus's shoulder, "Come on lads, let's show them!"
The three hawks soared into the air, circled once, then closed their wings and drove straight down. The wolves slackened their pace and some stopped entirely for a moment as the hawks attacked, their talons outstretched; they were small, but they could dive with incredible speed. The hawks flipped into the air again, then dashed on the wolves that seemed to be getting too far ahead.
The centaurs plunged on, snow flying in great sheets from their churning legs; then they burst from the ragged, tortured trees and were climbing higher and higher into the crags, their hooves slipping on sheer ice, their breath coming in gasps.
The children looked back as the centaurs mounted a ridge, thundering onto the shoulder of the mountain. Suddenly it seemed that the wolves had reached an invisible wall, a barrier they dared not cross; as one body they slowed and stopped, milling around in the snow, watching as their prey drew farther away.
"We're in Archenland," Equus gasped.
The centaurs swung around and looked back and saw the hawks still bombarding the wolves, swinging through the air like furies.
"Ergo, Jafa, Elah!" Martin bellowed at them, "Come now!"
The three hawks flapped away from the wolves and soared high into the air.
"What are they doing?" Martin asked incredulously as the hawks did a series of flips and rolls, their pinions fluttering, their beaks open in war cries.
"Victory rolls," Flavis said, "Why do hawks always show off?"
Elah, Jafa and Ergo plummeted down and landed on the ground before Martin.
"We sure did it, didn't we?" Elah fluffed up his feathers.
"We sure did!" Jafa said.
"Oh come off it!" Flavis laughed, "Let's get going."
~o*o~
Treve approached his home with a mounting sense of shame. His midnight gallivant had seemed so marvelous and heroic, but now with broad daylight beating down on the ice covered trees he felt that it really wasn't worth it. He didn't feel like counting all the rules he'd broken, don't be out after dark, don't go more than a mile away without telling, don't go in strangers' houses… he could go on.
But then he saw his sister Coppel trotting towards him and with a happy bark he broke into a gallop and ran to meet her, shouting news all the way.
"Where have you been?" she asked crossly when he finally stopped for breath. "Half the neighborhood is out looking for you. Did you run away?"
"No, I've been to Narnia!" Treve cried, gallivanting all around her. "There were wolves and children and centaurs and bears and fauns and all sorts of wonderful things!"
"Calm down, you don't know how much you've upset mother," Coppel, for once, felt like the older sister. "Not to mention father."
In the end, when they finally arrived, there were stern looks all around and tearful embraces from his mother. The rest of the wood folk were rather silent, though secretly very glad to see him.
"We return your son to you," Equus said, "We had no knowledge of his coming until he saved the life of one of our companions."
"I'm afraid it was mostly our fault, all the same," Flavis said. "We asked him for directions and he ended coming along. I hope you'll forgive him soon."
"Sir Flavis," Treve's father said. "We are much honored that our son was of service to you and your friends in your enterprise, but we would like to have known about it first."
"We can only apologize," Equus said.
"You will stay for lunch, won't you?" Treve's mother asked.
Since it was impossible to fit centaurs (not to mention the bear) in the burrow, lunch was eaten outside and all the neighbors invited themselves, looking with something close to awe at the four children.
"I think they're afraid of us," Edmund whispered to Susan.
"I think you're right," Susan replied. "But, I wish they weren't."
Then Martin, after muttering with Flavis and Equus for a few minutes, dropped a bombshell.
"Treve has proven himself untrustworthy, but even so we wondered if you would consent to letting him come with us to Cair Anvard and serve as a page. He is old enough to start thinking of leaving his den and thinking for himself. He does not lack in bravery, if common sense."
Both Treve and his parents stood staring at Martin with awe.
"But his education…" Treve's mother began.
"He will be educated," Flavis, said, "I will see to it myself."
"Well, I don't suppose we can refuse," Treve's father said at last.
Treve leapt into the air with all four feet off the ground, "Hooray!"
"Sorry," he added a moment later.
~o*o~
"I'd love to have them for the night," Treve's mother said worriedly.
"We thank you, madam," Martin said. "But we must keep on."
They trudged down from the mountains. There were roads here, packed down for sleighs and walking was much easier. The snow was less and the air was warmer, it didn't burn as they breathed. The snow had mostly come off the trees further down and the whole countryside looked rather dull and uninteresting, except for the little farmhouses they passed on the way.
There were fine little villages and at the very first one, they stopped at the livery stable and Martin rented three horses. They continued on happier after that and though night was falling, they knew that they would be in Anvard, the capital, before very long, but Edmund was so tired he felt that he would drop; his legs ached from riding and the horse he rode was forever stopping and falling asleep.
"Poor excuse for an animal," Martin said grimly, slapping it on the rump.
Snow began falling in big gentle flakes, clumping together because of the warmth of the air. They spiraled down and caught in Lucy's hair as she slept, leaning on Bruinhild's back. They dappled Flavis' black coat and made Treve look like he was going prematurely gray. Shard faded into the whiteness like a ghost.
The lights of Anvard glowed and beckoned them from the crest of a small hill and soon they were walking in the outskirts of the city. They passed glowing windows of houses and saw the brightly lit windows of storefronts, yellow light pooling on the snow that was fast gathering in the cobbled road. They heard soft voices and saw a group of carolers singing quietly at a doorstep. Most of them were squirrels and hedgehogs, only one was human.
Cair Anvard herself stood as the crowning ornament on a hill in the middle of the city. They could see the great walls, painted gold by burning lights and the flags rippling softly in the icy wind that blew from the mountains.
They came to the great arching gate, set deep in the wall between two towers and looked up at the stone carved gargoyles that stared down at them from the ramparts. Torches flared in brackets on the gray stone walls.
"Who goes there?" a voice echoed from the shadows and a centaur with a spear stepped into the pooling yellow light, "Sir Martin! Lord Equus! Sir Flavis!"
"Yes," Flavis replied, "It's just us, will you let us in? It's very cold."
"Of course!" the centaur said and he turned to open the little door set in the gate. They went through, one by one, ducking under the lintel as they came into a great courtyard and saw the tall windows of the Great Hall sending paths of gold across the icy cobbles.
"I'd forgotten," Flavis said, "The fourth feast of Christmastide today."
"In our world, we have Christmas," Susan said, "but why do you celebrate it here?"
"We celebrate the creation of the earth." Flavis said, "There are twelve days of Christmas for every hour Aslan took to create the world. It is a time of giving and thanksgiving."
"Why do you celebrate in the winter time?" Edmund asked.
Flavis paused, "To remember the life of summer."
~o*o~
Lucy was in a half daze when Peter lifted her down from Bruinhild's back, but she remembered the warmth and the echoing of many voices.
Then she saw the lights.
"Have we reached the South Pole?" she asked as the massive carved doors of the Great Hall swung open and the lights danced all around her like a thousand halos. A great spruce stood towering in the middle of the room, its branches glowing with candles and gilded in that light were the tables where a great feast was laid out.
"Yes," Peter whispered as the laughter and the talking suddenly faded. They watched as Martin reared in the middle of the room.
"We have come!"
His voice reverberated around the hall. When the echoes died, several ladies fainted dead away.
King Lune stood from his seat on the dais, his goblet in one hand, the gems set in it flashing light, "Martin! We're very glad you are back, but why does it have to be an event every time you appear?"
Martin stamped his hoof. "We have come!"
"What he means to say is," Flavis said calmly, "We've brought the children."
The silence was complete, then King Lune and the Queen who had been sitting beside him came down from the dais and took the hands of the travelers, bringing them up to sit at the royal table.
"You are most welcome," King Lune said, bowing to the girls and seizing the boy's hands in friendship. "I hope that we may learn you story before long, but now you must be weary. Strike up the music! This is a night for rejoicing."
They had arrived.
They felt strange sitting there as the music leapt up around them and the lights glittered on the wineglasses and the feathers of the swan that rested on a platter at the table, as beautiful in death as in life. And the Queen, Deidre, a winsome thing with wild brown hair swept about her, served them herself. The journey was over and they felt as the orchestra felt, only four parts in a whole, watching eagerly for the next gesture of the conductor.
The conductor? Who was the conductor?
Author's Note: Hello all! Welcome again to 'The Once and Future King'. We earnestly hope that you are still enjoying the story and would love to hear from you about how you think we're doing. If you have any questions or comments please let us know. You don't have to have an account to leave a review. A delightful Easter to everyone and I really hope we're the only ones getting more snow.
~Psyche
Production Notes: We're delighted to announce that permission to move the entire production to Archenland was secured at the last minute. So far we have always been able to write on location and King Lune promises to allow access to Cair Anvard. We're looking forward to continuing our project in a warmer climb.