It's a little late, I know, and I'm sorry yet again. :] I'm hoping for a multi-chapter weekend, since mine is 4 days long. (I LOVE the end of the semester!) Well, including today, it's 5! The one really good thing about school: the days off from it. xD
But, I must say, I got more reviews than usual on the late chapter, so a HUGE, HUGE thank you out to all of you wonderful peoples who left feedback! You make me so happy, y'all! 8D
Guest - Hm, you were the first to review the last chapter, but I'm not sure who you are so I don't know how to give you that question answer...if you review first again, could you leave your username so I know who you are? If you are a member of the site, go ahead and message me though. :)
And here's your update! ;D
NymphadoraLupin98 - Haha well you can save up the questions you earn and use them in a heap if ya like xD
Yep, I did want to take this story a little off the happy highway, but I'm glad it was still good! :) And as for worrying about Laurah...yeah, probably not a bad idea xD
Awesome, I'll see what people say so I know what to do with those two! xD
And thank you once again dearie! :D
Jumpergirl89 - Hahaha I'm glad you are! She's such fun to write! :D Though she does have ante dency to nver shut up when she's dictating what she says...xD
Haha well they'll bump into each other soon...;)
Garideth - Oh my goodness dearie, are you psyched out on caffeine? Because it kinda sounds like it...xD
But no, I only just heard of River Tam (from your review xD) but yes, they are at Dark Island ;) And you could be right, since I do love stress and strife (and also alliteration xP)
Hahahahahaha sappy feels? Oh my dear, you have me doubled over in laughter right now! XD
And no need to apologize for the randomness, it's quite hilarious to read ;)
And thank you again! :D
newgirl5 - That would be a really good guess, and I think it's answered here ;)
Evy201 - They're on their way, obliviously xD But don't worry, the reunion will be soon...as in, maybe this chapter soon ;D
And I'm glad you liked the Nikki-approval-of-Caspian scene, it was one of my favs to write!
As for Nikki/Sadrian, it seems everyone agrees with you my dear! ;) Starting evil plotting of romance that takes far too long to actually come to fruition...xD
Gentle Blossom - Ah, poor Laurah and Caspian...I love keeping those two apart! xD And finding is only step 1 ;)
I have to say, I just got a pretty good idea about some funnyness between MopMan and Nikki xD I'll be splitting this story between Nikki and Laurah now, so MopMan will be here more ;)
Disclaimer - (How many does that make it now?) Don't own Narnia. mmkay, y'all? ;)
Enjoy, and thank you all for voting in the poll!
Chapter 13
Nikki POV:
This place is about as gloomy and dreary as it gets. Between the complete lack of sunlight - other than the ray from where we just came in, and the green stuff that seems to be everywhere, we're buried in a fog that's fifty times thicker than pea soup. How is it we're planning on finding one little sword in this messyness?
I nudge MopMan – oops, Sadrian – and start to ask this very question, but the fear in his eyes hushes me right up. Apparently, this place is super scary.
Maybe I've just been watching way too many horror movies – hey, a good scream can be good for the heart: it exercises it – but it doesn't really seem too terrible. Certainly a little on the creepy side and badly in need of an interior decorator, but still, it could be a lot worse. There aren't any bloody corpses or flesh-eating critters of what-have-you.
Be that as it may, I am a bit uneasy, though I blame it more on the nerves, or lack thereof, of the crew and other peoples on board this ship. But I come to notice a whole crap-load of green mist hissing its way toward us, and that does actually send some of the hair on the back of my neck a-twitching.
"I can't see a thing – this fog's too thick," warns the good captain, his gruff voice carrying quite well in the quiet.
The mist is emitting all sorts of creepy, haunted-house type noises and quiet wails, and like any teen girl with a good head on her shoulders, I keep my eyes open. Especially when hordes of the stuff wind their way into and around all of us and even the ship itself.
Then, an immense flood of relief courses through me.
"Laurah? Thank heavens you're alright chica! You had me right worried, you did!" I bounce forward to grab that girl and give her a proper hug, but my arms wrap around air where she should be.
A hand on my shoulder startles me, and I whirl around to see Caspian behind me.
"You saw her too." He doesn't need to ask, he knows.
I nod shakily, rattled from the ghostly apparition.
"It'll turn out alright in the end," Caspian assures me, though I suspect he's trying to convince himself just as much as me.
I summon a grin and try to just be the crazy me everyone's used to.
"It better, because I'm not about to die without that FrostyShake. Or peanut M&Ms. Or Cheez-Its."
As if in on the joke, my stomach grumbles to punctuate, and I pat it lovingly.
"You silly thing you, there ain't much junk food around these parts. Unless this mist can conjure up Cheez-Its, I guess we better stay alive and kickin'," I say, holding my chin up.
"Keep your chins up y'all, and whistle if you're scared. 'I whistle a happy tune/and every single time/ the happiness in the tune/convinces me that I'm/not afraid!'" I sing out, whistling that happy tune at the end. I have to sigh when I only receive blank stares in return.
"Oh come on, has no one seen the 'King and I?' It's a classic!" I grouse, continuing my whistling.
To my surprise, Caspian, Lucy, and Sadrian join me, even if only to humor me. But still, a little of the tension seems to leave them. It leaves me too, and when the next wraith-snake misty-thing comes along, I wave it away with a flick of my hand.
Caspian isn't so lucky it seems: he looks over one shoulder, then the other, looking pained and scared. Maybe even on the verge of tears, unless my eyes deceive me.
So I do the same thing he did for me. I lay a hand on his shoulder to bring him back to reality and remind him he's not alone here. I may not know this guy very well, but if Laurah loves him, that's all I need to know.
He starts, and his eyes don't focus for a second. But a shake brings him back, and Caspian nods his thanks, laying his armored hand over mine like a brother would. I can't guess what he heard, but at least he looks a bit better now. Still, I can't help but wish Laurah was here to comfort him instead of me; she knows him quite well, and she's much better at this sort of thing.
"Go away. You're dead."
We both look to Edmund, on the deck below, looking a little crazed and a lot angry, though he's trying to contain it. He turns around, looking into what appears to us to be empty air. Either he's seeing things, or we're just blind as bats. Normally, I'd vote the former. In here…meh, same vote.
"NO!"
I jump a good few inches in the air at Edmund's yell, though I retain enough sense to be happy it's not directed at me at least. Caspian and I share a glance, in which I quietly ask what on earth he saw. Not that Caspian necessarily could see it too, but he might have some idea.
"Edmund? Are you alright?"
Lucy beat me to the punch. Though I'd probably have phrased said question less nicely and far, far more sarcastically.
Edmund seems to be fine though, just a little shaken up. Quite frankly, and no not as in Frankenstein, we all are. Shaken up like chicken in the breading before it's fried – in Crisco of course. Greasy, slimy stuff, but it can be good for cooking.
Caspian finally answers my question now. Perfect timing, what with my daydreams of KFC fried chicken, soft and flaky biscuits, and yummzilicious honey.
"That was most likely the White Witch. Did Laurah explain the history?" he whispers, probably so Edmund won't be any more rattled than he is.
I nod silently, because my voice never comes out very quiet, and in spite of my sarcastic nature I do care about the sanity of the people here.
We're all jolted from our respective reveries at a strange, howling, and definitely Grade-A creepy cry. Two theories pop into my head: A, it's a werewolf (Love you Taylor Lautner if it is!); B, it's an animal.
More yells and hollering follow, but it almost sounds like it's yelling 'Keep away!'
"Who's there?" Edmund asks.
"We do not fear you!"
Speak for yourself, Caspian. Unless of course it really is a werewolf, in which case can we please ask if its name is Jacob Black? Because that would be undeniably awesome – with a capital A! Especially because I'm Team Jacob's-abs.
"Noraiyu!"
Hm, I think that would translate to either "Nor I you!" or "North bayou!" Personally, I don't think there are too many bayous around here, but hey, I could be mistaken. Whichever is the case, I'd really like to see if this guy looks as nutty as he sounds.
I guess we'll all be finding out soon enough, because Edmund's gotten out his oldy-old flashlight and is shining it out at the rocks.
Personally, I think Lucy is looking a mite too scared for her own good, so I head over to give a good dose of chill-ness. Sadly, I don't happen to have any chill pills with me, but I'll have to make do I guess.
"Hey Luce, chillax. It's all gonna be fine, mmkay?" I give her a pat on the shoulder too, just for good measure.
I'm pleased that I'm somewhat successful and some of the I'm-so-freaking-nervous lines fade from her forehead.
"That's good. Remember, you'll have plenty of time for wrinkles when you're an old lady, so don't go giving yourself them now. Especially because I don't think they have Botox back in World War II and I wouldn't recommend it anyway. Nor would I recommend plastic surgery – too many horror stories. You know, there was this one lady I saw whose lips were so poofed up it looked like a serious allergic reaction. I'm talking do-you-need-to-go-to-the-ER kind of serious. So yeah, moral of the story is: don't get that weirdo beauty surgery stuff. It does more harm than good really."
At the end of my little speech on the evils of putting plastic in one's face, Lucy is just staring at me, half in total confusion and half in total amusement. Yay, mission accomplished! In the words of our good, totally sexy friend Ethan Hunt.
Aw dang, now I just want to drift off into my world of daydreams and reveries of the undeniable attractiveness that is that secret agent. But just as luck would have it, Lucy shakes me from my semi-stupor, pointing where Edmund is shining the flashlight.
The beam has settled on a large, boulder-type thing in the water a little ways off from the ship. And there does seem to be someone there…and oh for the love of my personal sanity, that dude needs to shave. I mean, I like a little scruff on some guys, but that beard is just plain scraggly. I didn't think to bring a razor, did I?
"Keep away!" CrazyDude hollers again, looking exactly as strange as he sounds.
"We will not leave," responds Caspian firmly.
Now why not? I'm personally getting a wittle bitty bit creeped out. Oh! Oh oh oh right-o, that dang sword! I almost forgot about the blasted thing.
"You will not defeat me!" CrazyDude growls, giving whatever it is he's holding a little shake. If I only had my contacts, I could see exactly what – hey! That's a sword! Is that the one we need?
"Caspian! Caspian, his sword!" Edmund calls, just as I was about to do the exact same thing.
And here let there be a moment of stunned or confused silence, because that always seems to happen around here during important moments. After said moment of silence, Caspian identifies Crazy Dude.
"Lord Rhoop!"
Honestly, what is it with the names around here? What ever happened to normal names, like Blake and Michael and such? I mean, no offense to old-crazy-lord here, but his name rhymes with 'poop.' That is never a good sign I tell you. Ever.
As Caspian moves down the deck, the lord-whose-name-rhymes-with-'poop' walks the opposite way, looking completely psycho and a little scared of us, if you're willing to stretch it a bit.
"You do not own me!"
"Chillax dude, we never said we did," I mumble under my breath. Sadrian gives me a nudge, to which I respond with a shrug and a whispered "Whaaat?"
He merely looks at me, and I don't need him to tell me out loud that I should cut the guy some slack. I roll my eyes for good measure, but I nod. Still, it's not like I'd have said it to his face or anything. The main reason? I'd be worried Rhoop'd cut my face clean off with that sword if I got within 100 feet of him, never mind trying to talk to him.
"Stand down!"
Sadrian and I return our attention to the situation at hand, which just so happens to be Caspian having everyone lower their crossbows and weapons.
"Let's get him on board, quickly!"
"Caspian, have you lost your marbles too?" I hiss, yanking his arm so he's facing me. "Have you gone completely bat-shit crazy?"
"Not now, Nikki." He tries to dismiss me, but I'll have none of it.
"You want that crazy-as-a-possum guy on this ship? What's gotten into you?!"
"Nikki, we need his sword and he's the last of the Seven Lords. We have to help him!"
"What if he turns your face into sushi? What then, may I ask?"
A brief confused expression from Caspian spurs different vocabulary.
"As in, chops at you with that sword you need?"
"We'll talk to him." Caspian's tone implies that this is final, but I'm still not convinced.
"Since you're the king, I have to do what you say. However, know that if he turns you into dog food, I get to say 'I told you so' and I ain't taking care of the guy either."
"I wouldn't expect you too."
The crew is preparing to swing ropes with little pointy, 3-fingered things on the end to somehow get Rhoop on board, but a non-aggressive roar renders this unnecessary.
"Aw, Eustace is just so nice!" I grin up at the dragon as he swoops down, picks up Lord Rhoop in his paws, and deposits him as gently as possible on the deck. Though Eustace is smart too – as soon as Rhoop is safely on the deck, that dragon disappears again. I don't blame the guy – I wouldn't want to be around when this crazy lord came to anyway. But I must say, I can't help but give a quiet little giggle at the combination roar, growl, and yell that comes out of the good lord's mouth.
"Be calm, my lord!" Caspian says loudly, his hands in front of him in a soothing kind of manner.
"Off me, demon!" yowls Rhoop, waving that pointy, surely-human-sushi-chopping sword.
"No, my lord. We are not here to hurt you. I am your king – Caspian."
This seems to calm the guy down a bit, as he freezes in place. Even that pointy sword of his is nice and still.
"Caspian?" he echoes, eyes wider than usual. Well, that is, if he can be called usual.
"My lord!" Rhoop turns around, practically worshiping Caspian as he does. He even puts a hand against Caspian's face, as if he's testing if he's real.
I actually feel sorry for the guy. I mean, he's clearly lost all of his marbles, but he is pitiable. I'm getting the impression this place isn't exactly the kind of place everyone's jumping to hang out in. Just a side observation.
"You should not have come! There's no way out of here!" Back to his outside voice it is, and back to the frantic craziness as well. "Quickly, turn this ship about before it's too late!"
Edmund trades a quick glance with Caspian and says, "We have the sword, let's go!"
"Let's turn her about, Drinian," orders Caspian, turning to head up the stairs.
Just then, at this precise moment of flurried action to leave, I hear a faint, very faint strangled garble sort of sound. Now normally I would dismiss it as one of the many figments of my imagination, but I almost think I recognize the voice. Unless my ears are playing tricks on me, it almost sounds like Laurah. Distorted and completely unlike her, but still her voice.
"Wait!" I call. No one turns around. "WAIT!" That does the trick. Everyone stops dead in their tracks, staring at me in confusion.
"Nikki, what on ear-"
"Hush, don't you hear that?" The sound has started up again, and I refuse to let this ship leave unless we know for sure Laurah's not here.
Caspian cocks his head slightly to the side, and it continues. It doesn't look like he can hear it though, by his face.
"Nikki, I think you were just-"
"No, wait, Your Majesty; I hear it too," Sadrian interrupts, looking at me as he does. I can't tell if he's just buying me time or he really does hear that, but either way, I'm in no mood to question.
"Edmund, can you hand me your flashlight for a second?"
He looks at me in confusion, and I remember he's British.
"Torch, the dang torch!" I correct exasperatedly, my fingers curling and uncurling impatiently.
Luckily, he obliges, and I shine the thing all around the water around the ship. At first, there's nothing. But then, on a tiny little rock sticking up, I can see a shape laying flat on the mini-miniature island.
"There, ya see that?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see some people nodding, Caspian and Sadrian included.
It's so small it's hard to tell what it is, but it almost looks like a girl. I'm wondering how we're going to get whoever or whatever it is on board, when Eustace is kind enough to pick it up and fly it over to the deck. I throw Edmund his light and help catch the thin, skeletal girl that falls from the dragon's claws.
Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.
"Failure."
"Curse."
"Scum."
"Filth."
"Evil."
Voices echo all around me, driving me even further from cohesiveness than ever. Strangled sort of sounds warble their way out of my throat, but I make no effort to contain them. I lie facedown on a hard, cold, gritty-smelling piece of nothing. I'm giving up, I have given up, I am nothing. There is nothing here, there is nothing there, there is nothing anywhere.
Other sounds float up around me besides my own conjuring, but I still can't care. I'll be dead soon anyway, and I'll be transformed from nothing into nothing. What is real? Not even pain is – it is taken over each time by the nothing.
Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.
Clammy hands, my hands I think, clench and unclench the small roughages in the hard nothing, and there's a wetness oozing between my fingers. It smells a little metallic, but what does it matter? It is nothing, I am nothing.
"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue." The ragged, scratchy sounds seem to be my voice, and I claw my fingernails on the rock. The tearing of my skin brings a sort of release. I feel nothing still, but nothing doesn't seem quite as empty as before.
Then, nothings seem to shift a bit, and pressure seems to be on my waist. An odd sort of thing, and nothing to claw now. Where is my resting rock, my hard nothingness? No matter. It was doomed anyway. Everything is doomed, and nothing is doomed, because everything is nothing. Nothing upon nothings, ravings of madness. Nothing is madness. I am still madness.
Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.
The pressure around my middle releases, only to be replaced by pressure under me. My hands go to count my ribs again, because I have nothing to do. I don't care what happens or is happening to me, I can't care, I won't care, the nothing can't care, the nothing doesn't care.
"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue."
Strange…it almost seems like there's another voice answering. I start to imagine a shapeless being, but I quickly lose interest. What does it even matter, anyway?
Whatever thing it is doesn't pipe down and let me be: it shakes me by the shoulders, making my teeth rattle against each other. At some point, maybe I would have cared. But the tiny little whispers of discomfort that are the result of this treatment feel good, so I don't do anything to stop it. What could I do anyway? I am helpless against this place.
Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.
My body is shaken harder, and something very loud hollers into my ears. Are my eyes still closed? They might be, because I can't see anything. But what is there to see? Only nothing – the nothing that is everything. Maybe all this ruckus, even if it isn't real, will finally put me out of my misery. Since I still can't conjure up the guts to lower myself into the wet stuff below, I'll take whatever I can get. Of dying, that is.
Madness, madness, madness. I am mad, I am lost. My eyes must be open now, because everything is spinning. Spinning and spinning and spinning, a crazy whirlwind of things old, and new, and borrowed, and blue. More loud noises, but I can't tell if they're my screams of other screams. Mist can scream – mist can hiss too.
Slithering, hissing snake in my head, biting at the inside of my skull. Fangs dripping with venom, eyes beady and yellowed with malice. Does it mean to kill me? A shake of its scaled little head assures me that no, I deserve to suffer much more than in mere death.
My nails scratch at my head, and this time I know the screams are mine. My shoulders are released, but before my back hits the ground, or whatever it is I'm on, I'm caught by a pair of hands. For a moment, it's the nicest thing I've ever felt, it seems. No pain associated with it at all – it's almost…gentle.
But I don't deserve such niceties, and this place knows it. Reality is blurred, a madness. Gentleness morphs into thousands of needles, sticking into my skin and my face and everywhere that hurts. Garbled, freakish shrieks tear from my throat – inhuman sounds they are, and frightening even to me, the originator of them.
I'm all alone now – no hands are touching me. I can't see to tell if I'm truly alone, but the snake still striking around in my head rattles its tail, as if to remind me that I'll never, ever be alone again- it'll always be here to torture me. Yet again, the fangs sink into the inside of my brain, and no amount of scratching or screaming will stop the waves of pain that beat relentlessly against my body. I can hear my heart beating erratically, beating fast and then not at all, less constant than anything here. Why can't it just give out already? Why does it have to hang on for so agonizingly long? Why can't I just finally die here?
Suddenly, the snake stops striking for a moment. Out of the corner of my bloodshot eye, I catch a faint, very faint light- it seems to be from my wrist. I remember having a bracelet there once. Maybe it's still there?
Light multiplies, and a wave of it washes over me. I can't help the tears now streaming from my eyes. It feels so…nice. Too wonderful to put in words, this momentary taste of peace and good. It washes the snake away, though it hisses and strikes at this beautiful, beautiful thing. I'm free of the snake.
It fades, this wondrous golden wave of good, but no new horror comes to terrorize me. Perhaps I am still mad, but I can survive. I start to wonder where it came from, that savior in light, and then it comes to me. I am a sprite, not a human. That must have been my mother, it must have.
More tears spill from my eyes, eyes that can see without the world spinning round and round like a frenzied wheel. My vision is too blurry to make much out, but I'm too grateful for simply being able to see to care. Gentle hands lift me, my shoulders. Arms support me from behind, and it almost seems like I'm being held in someone's lap.
My eyes focus enough to see what looks to be a man's face in front of my own. He lifts a hand to my cheek, almost tenderly. His skin is warm against my icy face. I look up, and see another face, a familiar one. I know her from somewhere, I think. She's the one supporting my back.
I think both of them say something, but I can't understand. I must be losing some of my crazy, my senseless madness, because I actually want to understand, even if only a little. It's almost like I owe it to them. They don't seem to want to hurt me, prove to me how little I really deserve.
"Laurah?"
Wait, that's my name, isn't it? It seemed to come from him, the man leaning over me and cupping my cheek with his hand. Do I know him? I don't think I know him. Does he know me? Maybe the girl holding me up told him my name. Yes, that must be it.
My mind starts to scream that this is just another piece of torture, a taste of good that will turn into the worst pain yet. It orders me not to trust them, these seemingly good beings. Are they human? They can't be sprites, because what would sprites be doing here? Half of me is convinced they're monsters in disguise, but the other half remembers the good that came from my bracelet. They could be good too. Good monsters? Or just good?
The madness is creeping back in, I can feel it. Even good must fade, it seems. My eyes are darkening, and I can hear the ominous rattle of that snake's tail. It's coming back. And there's nothing I can do, I know. My body trembles because I know this round of crazy is bound to be the worst yet. Hope is foolishness, and I won't be fooled by it.
Hands on my face, but the gentleness must be a lie. A soft voice crooning to me, whispering my name with increasing urgency, but this was all too good to be true anyhow. Louder and louder the rattle gets, and harder and harder I tremble. The snake appears, and my mouth opens in the beginnings of a scream, anticipating the pain.
Something drops onto my tongue, a strange liquid both spicy and sweet. A tingle courses through my veins as the drop trickles down my throat. The rattles quiets. My scream is still stillborn. My fear fades a little, even if it's foolish to let it. The tiniest slivers of clarity register. My eyes focus on the man's face before me, whose hand is wiping away tears I didn't even realize were on my cheeks. Why are his eyes red-rimmed too? Surely he hasn't been trapped in here as well.
Two voices mingle together, his and the girl's. I can't quite get what they're saying, but I can understand they're frightened. Of me? Or of this place? They would be wise to be frightened of both.
Another drop of something falls, but lands on my face instead of my mouth. My first guess is that it was a tear, but I don't know why I guess that. Then again, I'm still mad, so rationality isn't first nature.
My ears are clear enough to hear though, and my name is constantly being repeated. Murmured and yelled, spoken softly and frantically. It's making my head spin. That drop in my mouth isn't doing a whole lot of good, save keeping the snake away. Still, I think I could understand them now, if I try hard enough. I have nothing better to do really, so I do.
"Come on chica, snap out of it! You're stronger than this, I know you are!"
"Laurah, please. I can't…I can't lose you again."
The man's words confuse me, because I don't know why he's saying them – they don't make any sense, if things are capable of making sense. But I think I know the girl, so I can make sense of her being worried, I guess. But him? What is he talking about?
I open my mouth, trying to speak, but it's so hard. I'm too used to screaming to form those coherent things called words. Croaks come out of my throat, and I can tell they don't understand me. I try as many times as I have to before my question comes out, addressed to the man.
"Who are you?"
Well, this one was a little shorter than the others, but I just had to end it there xD I do hope all you fabulous readers understand ;)
The poll is still up if you haven't voted and want to, and I'll probably leave it up for another week or so.
Once again, massive thank you's to my wonderful reviewers, old and new! You guys make all the late night so worth it! Love you all!
I'll be writing like a madwoman this weekend, but how fast I get the chapters up depends on how much the Internet is up :] But worst case scenario, it'll be 3 or 4 days before the next update, but I'll have 2 or more chapters waiting to be uploaded. ;)
And if you have a minute to leave a review, I'd love hearing from ya!