~QUEEN SUSAN THE GENTLE~
by IceAngel
SUMMARY CHAPTER 1 - Set during 'the lion the witch and the wardrobe' - chapter 13 - Deep Magic from the Dawn of Time. A deeper look into the mind of Susan during the time of Edmund's returned.
*Dedicated to Forever Young ^.^*
DISSCLAMER - All characters, events and golden lions belong to C.S. Lewis. Also, much inspiration has come from the TV dramatisations of the first 4 Narnia books which were produced when I was only about three years old - but which I still adore - They are a great tribute to the works of Lewis and a fantastic adaptation.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Something had happened. I could feel it even before I had opened my eyes. And when I did so, I was startled when they fell upon the sunlit walls of the tent.
It was a moment before I remembered where I was, and when memories of the day before flooded back, I realised I had been half expecting, half hoping it had all been a dream. I lay my head back upon the soft cushions, and tried to make myself believe that my reluctance to be here was because of Edmund's disappearance. But in my heart I knew it went beyond that, and if he had been here with us now, I would not have felt any more comfortable with Narnia.
Narnia. Why didn't I just accept it as the others did?
I looked over at my Peter, and saw how young he looked lying asleep. He had changed yesterday, become more mature somehow. And it was a relief to me to see he still remained the same Peter I had known all my life, even if it were only in sleep.
Lucy lay beside him, curled into a tight ball with her fingers in her mouth. I might have laughed. Edmund, were he here would have teased her, but Aslan's influence had touched us all, myself included, and somehow the way I looked at things had changed.
There was a rustling noise outside the tent, and a moment later Mrs Beaver came bustling in holding a tray heaped with fruit and bread. Peter woke with a groan, and Lucy stirred, snuggling deeper into the cushions. I gave her a gentle shake and she rolled over to face us, blinking in confusion.
"Make sure you eat well, my dears," Mrs Beaver was saying encouragingly. "You'll need all your strength for the day ahead."
Peter thanked her and took the tray on his lap, balancing it on his knees. Mrs Beaver turned to go, and we turned our attention to the breakfast. She had just pulled away the tent flap when she seemed to hesitate, open the door wider, then change her mind again and hurry back to us.
"What is it, Mrs Beaver?" Peter asked, concerned.
"I thought you aught to know," she said in a low voice, twisting her hands in the tea towel with agitation. "Son of Adam, daughters of Eve, your brother . . . he has returned."
"Edmund!" Peter and Lucy shouted together, both trying to scramble to their feet above the slippery cushions.
"Where is he?" Peter asked loudly, attempting to peer around Mrs Beaver's large body.
She bowed her head, "he is with Aslan." We all stopped short, wondering what would be the implications of the meeting.
We followed Mrs Beaver out of the tent after we had breakfasted, and though we tried to look innocent, all of us were secretly looking around for Edmund. Lucy pointed him out over the other side of the clearing, and at once we knew it was not our place to be watching. Edmund was kneeling before the great lion, and Aslan seemed to be talking to him.
The golden head turned in our direction and almost at once Edmund rose to his feet and followed Aslan as he padded towards us. Peter, Lucy and I stood together on one side, and Aslan and Edmund on the other. That was how it seemed to me, for no one could think of anything to bridge the gap.
"Here is your brother," Aslan said, shunting Edmund towards us. "And there is no need to speak on what has passed." Aslan left us alone, and there was another horrible silence in which Edmund just stood before us, his eyes showing his desperate desire to be accepted again.
"I'm sorry," he said, with such feeling that for once in his life, I knew he meant. But still none of us could think of how to start. "I *am* sorry," he said again, and this time Lucy couldn't restrain herself.
"Yes Edmund! We know." She flung herself forwards and threw her arms around him.
I saw Edmund let out a great sigh as he clung tightly to his little sister, and Peter's tight face give way into a grin. I hugged Edmund next, and felt some of my worry seep away with his safe return. He wore no coat, for it had been left in the house of the beavers, and although the morning was bright with sunshine, his skin was cold. I raised my eyes to his face, and saw that it had changed somehow. His sandy hair was tousled, and his cheeks were glowing red, but it was his eyes that seemed most affected. They were deeper somehow, more knowing, and less abrupt and self centred than they had ever been.
He approached Peter with trepidation, surely remembering the bad terms on which they had parted. Both had been through much fear and regret, I knew that well, but as Aslan had said, now was the time to look forwards, not back. Peter too was nervous, but he took Edmund's shoulders in his hands firmly, and then clasping his brother by the hand he gave it a hearty shake.
Peter did not let go of Edmund's hand at once, and his brow was creased in worry. I followed his eyes to Edmund's wrist and saw at once the red scratches that had torn through the skin. Edmund pulled his hand back quickly, aware of what Peter was looking at, and wanting to hide the pain from Lucy. I yearned to ask Edmund what had happened to him, but Aslan had forbidden it, and that was that.
We stood a moment in silence, just relishing the feeling that we were together once again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There seemed to be a commotion coming from the other side of the glade. Aslan stood proudly beneath his banner, while a leopard, kneeling before him, spoke urgently.
"A messenger from the enemy craves audience, sire," I felt my blood run cold at the mention of the enemy, and looked to Edmund. His face was blank, but I could see the fear and trepidation in his eyes.
"Let him approach," Aslan said quickly, and the leopard, rather reluctantly, turned and crossed the glade, all eyes upon him. A hushed silence had fallen upon everything, and even the birds in the trees seemed to be waiting for something.
A small man, who I immediately recognised as a dwarf, walked beside the leopard as they passed under the banner above the entrance. He wore a fur coat, as if winter were still in its fullest flood, and his head was covered by a red, pointy hood that drooped backwards. The most remarkable thing was his beard, it reached all the way to his knees! Not even Father Christmas had such a beard! He seemed very conscious of the eyes upon him, for he gripped his long whip with white knuckles.
When he came to stand before Aslan, I could nearly see his knees trembling. "The Queen of Narnia," he began swiftly, eager to get the occasion over with, "and Empress of the Lone Islands desires safe conduct to speak with you."
"Queen of Narnia, indeed!" Mr Beaver exclaimed indignantly from his place beside Aslan. "Of all the cheek . . "
"Peace, Beaver," Aslan growled, his eyes never leaving the tiny man infront of him. "Tell your Mistress, son of Earth, that I grant her safe conduct on one condition . . ." I held my breath. "That she leave her wand at the rock before the gate."
"My Mistress expected such a request, and agrees," the Dwarf nooded. Aslan signed to the two leopards to escort the Dwarf back to the entrance, and make sure the terms of agreement were carried out.
"What if she turns them into stone?" Lucy whispered to Peter. I was thinking very much the same thing. What was stopping the Witch from turning us all to stone? I did not have much faith in Mrs Beaver's assurance of the Witch's fear of Aslan. Surely the great lion was powerful, but from the chill that swept over the clearing when she entered, I began to have doubts.
It was as though a great shadow had fallen over the world, blocking out the sun and piecing everyone's hearts with fear. I made myself focus on her face, and at once it was as though cold fingers were touching my neck. I shivered, but didn't dare move. She wore a flowing white dress that seemed almost to be made out of snow. The strong wind that passed through the trees as she entered did not touch her in the least, while I felt my own hair flying about my face. Her chalk white features were focused entirely on Aslan, and she approached him as if it were we who were invading her territory.
She came to a halt before him, staring coldly, yet not quite meeting his pure gaze.
"Aslan," she began, with such contempt that any other would have flinched at the words. Not Aslan. He remained quiet, as though found her threatening tone more wearisome than frightening. Her voice rose suddenly as her arm swung around, "You have a traitor there!" Her long white finger pointed straight at Edmund.
As everyone else did, I followed her gaze. All the colour had drained from my brother's face, and I felt a shudder run through his body close to mine. Automatically we moved closer to him surrounding him with our support. I placed my hand on his shoulder, Lucy tightened her hold on his hand, and Peter moved slightly in front of him. I thought I could see something close to amusement in the witch's eyes as she looked at us. She was marvelling that we could accept our brother so quickly after he had betrayed us.
She had a heart of ice. Aslan seemed sad as he replied, "his offence was not against you."
"Have you forgotten the deep magic?" the witch asked, turning her fierce attention back to Aslan.
"The deep Magic from the dawn of time?" Aslan raised his voice slightly, as though he were confused. The look on the Witch's face was triumphant. Whatever the Deep Magic involved, I knew it was bad news for us.
"You know what is written on that ancient table of Stone. You know the Magic that was put into Narnia in the very beginning." she smiled, "You know . . . that every traitor belongs to me, as my lawful prey, and that for every treachery I have the right to kill!"
The full reality of the moment was so overwhelming at first that I felt dizzy. This was real. And the danger to our lives was just as real as the bombs that were falling on London. I realised I hadn't truly accepted it before. We were in a strange land, alone with no one to help or comfort us. As the elder of the four, Peter and I had a responsibility to look after to others. We had failed Edmund. I had failed him. Perhaps if I had listened, seen what was passing in his mind . . . But such thoughts were too late. And only Aslan could save us now . . .
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I think only 4 people read my Peter fic but I decided to continue anyway. If you read this please let me know what you thought, or just let me know you read it!
I'm hoping to add another chap to Peter's story with an adventure from 'Prince Caspian', the same with this fic. And then Edmund and Lucy's stories should have 3 chapters, one from tLtW&tW, one from P.C and one from tDT.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*The Summer Princess* - Thanks for your review on KPTM, I hope you did 'excavate your set of Narnia books.' Edmund next! Yay! He's my fave! Any ideas for Lucy? I'm desperate - or for any of the others for further chapters? I'd like to hear what you think of this one! Thanks!
*Cheshire* - Glad you liked it! I hope you like this one too. From one Narnia writer to another, any ideas for Lucy's chap? :D
* ~ * - Thanks for the review! I'm happy you liked it! I hope you read this one.
*Forever Young* - This chapter was for you. But I don't think I did it as well as Peter's fic. What did you think? Any other recommendations? (I'm desperate!) I can't think of one for Lucy.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
by IceAngel
SUMMARY CHAPTER 1 - Set during 'the lion the witch and the wardrobe' - chapter 13 - Deep Magic from the Dawn of Time. A deeper look into the mind of Susan during the time of Edmund's returned.
*Dedicated to Forever Young ^.^*
DISSCLAMER - All characters, events and golden lions belong to C.S. Lewis. Also, much inspiration has come from the TV dramatisations of the first 4 Narnia books which were produced when I was only about three years old - but which I still adore - They are a great tribute to the works of Lewis and a fantastic adaptation.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
Something had happened. I could feel it even before I had opened my eyes. And when I did so, I was startled when they fell upon the sunlit walls of the tent.
It was a moment before I remembered where I was, and when memories of the day before flooded back, I realised I had been half expecting, half hoping it had all been a dream. I lay my head back upon the soft cushions, and tried to make myself believe that my reluctance to be here was because of Edmund's disappearance. But in my heart I knew it went beyond that, and if he had been here with us now, I would not have felt any more comfortable with Narnia.
Narnia. Why didn't I just accept it as the others did?
I looked over at my Peter, and saw how young he looked lying asleep. He had changed yesterday, become more mature somehow. And it was a relief to me to see he still remained the same Peter I had known all my life, even if it were only in sleep.
Lucy lay beside him, curled into a tight ball with her fingers in her mouth. I might have laughed. Edmund, were he here would have teased her, but Aslan's influence had touched us all, myself included, and somehow the way I looked at things had changed.
There was a rustling noise outside the tent, and a moment later Mrs Beaver came bustling in holding a tray heaped with fruit and bread. Peter woke with a groan, and Lucy stirred, snuggling deeper into the cushions. I gave her a gentle shake and she rolled over to face us, blinking in confusion.
"Make sure you eat well, my dears," Mrs Beaver was saying encouragingly. "You'll need all your strength for the day ahead."
Peter thanked her and took the tray on his lap, balancing it on his knees. Mrs Beaver turned to go, and we turned our attention to the breakfast. She had just pulled away the tent flap when she seemed to hesitate, open the door wider, then change her mind again and hurry back to us.
"What is it, Mrs Beaver?" Peter asked, concerned.
"I thought you aught to know," she said in a low voice, twisting her hands in the tea towel with agitation. "Son of Adam, daughters of Eve, your brother . . . he has returned."
"Edmund!" Peter and Lucy shouted together, both trying to scramble to their feet above the slippery cushions.
"Where is he?" Peter asked loudly, attempting to peer around Mrs Beaver's large body.
She bowed her head, "he is with Aslan." We all stopped short, wondering what would be the implications of the meeting.
We followed Mrs Beaver out of the tent after we had breakfasted, and though we tried to look innocent, all of us were secretly looking around for Edmund. Lucy pointed him out over the other side of the clearing, and at once we knew it was not our place to be watching. Edmund was kneeling before the great lion, and Aslan seemed to be talking to him.
The golden head turned in our direction and almost at once Edmund rose to his feet and followed Aslan as he padded towards us. Peter, Lucy and I stood together on one side, and Aslan and Edmund on the other. That was how it seemed to me, for no one could think of anything to bridge the gap.
"Here is your brother," Aslan said, shunting Edmund towards us. "And there is no need to speak on what has passed." Aslan left us alone, and there was another horrible silence in which Edmund just stood before us, his eyes showing his desperate desire to be accepted again.
"I'm sorry," he said, with such feeling that for once in his life, I knew he meant. But still none of us could think of how to start. "I *am* sorry," he said again, and this time Lucy couldn't restrain herself.
"Yes Edmund! We know." She flung herself forwards and threw her arms around him.
I saw Edmund let out a great sigh as he clung tightly to his little sister, and Peter's tight face give way into a grin. I hugged Edmund next, and felt some of my worry seep away with his safe return. He wore no coat, for it had been left in the house of the beavers, and although the morning was bright with sunshine, his skin was cold. I raised my eyes to his face, and saw that it had changed somehow. His sandy hair was tousled, and his cheeks were glowing red, but it was his eyes that seemed most affected. They were deeper somehow, more knowing, and less abrupt and self centred than they had ever been.
He approached Peter with trepidation, surely remembering the bad terms on which they had parted. Both had been through much fear and regret, I knew that well, but as Aslan had said, now was the time to look forwards, not back. Peter too was nervous, but he took Edmund's shoulders in his hands firmly, and then clasping his brother by the hand he gave it a hearty shake.
Peter did not let go of Edmund's hand at once, and his brow was creased in worry. I followed his eyes to Edmund's wrist and saw at once the red scratches that had torn through the skin. Edmund pulled his hand back quickly, aware of what Peter was looking at, and wanting to hide the pain from Lucy. I yearned to ask Edmund what had happened to him, but Aslan had forbidden it, and that was that.
We stood a moment in silence, just relishing the feeling that we were together once again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There seemed to be a commotion coming from the other side of the glade. Aslan stood proudly beneath his banner, while a leopard, kneeling before him, spoke urgently.
"A messenger from the enemy craves audience, sire," I felt my blood run cold at the mention of the enemy, and looked to Edmund. His face was blank, but I could see the fear and trepidation in his eyes.
"Let him approach," Aslan said quickly, and the leopard, rather reluctantly, turned and crossed the glade, all eyes upon him. A hushed silence had fallen upon everything, and even the birds in the trees seemed to be waiting for something.
A small man, who I immediately recognised as a dwarf, walked beside the leopard as they passed under the banner above the entrance. He wore a fur coat, as if winter were still in its fullest flood, and his head was covered by a red, pointy hood that drooped backwards. The most remarkable thing was his beard, it reached all the way to his knees! Not even Father Christmas had such a beard! He seemed very conscious of the eyes upon him, for he gripped his long whip with white knuckles.
When he came to stand before Aslan, I could nearly see his knees trembling. "The Queen of Narnia," he began swiftly, eager to get the occasion over with, "and Empress of the Lone Islands desires safe conduct to speak with you."
"Queen of Narnia, indeed!" Mr Beaver exclaimed indignantly from his place beside Aslan. "Of all the cheek . . "
"Peace, Beaver," Aslan growled, his eyes never leaving the tiny man infront of him. "Tell your Mistress, son of Earth, that I grant her safe conduct on one condition . . ." I held my breath. "That she leave her wand at the rock before the gate."
"My Mistress expected such a request, and agrees," the Dwarf nooded. Aslan signed to the two leopards to escort the Dwarf back to the entrance, and make sure the terms of agreement were carried out.
"What if she turns them into stone?" Lucy whispered to Peter. I was thinking very much the same thing. What was stopping the Witch from turning us all to stone? I did not have much faith in Mrs Beaver's assurance of the Witch's fear of Aslan. Surely the great lion was powerful, but from the chill that swept over the clearing when she entered, I began to have doubts.
It was as though a great shadow had fallen over the world, blocking out the sun and piecing everyone's hearts with fear. I made myself focus on her face, and at once it was as though cold fingers were touching my neck. I shivered, but didn't dare move. She wore a flowing white dress that seemed almost to be made out of snow. The strong wind that passed through the trees as she entered did not touch her in the least, while I felt my own hair flying about my face. Her chalk white features were focused entirely on Aslan, and she approached him as if it were we who were invading her territory.
She came to a halt before him, staring coldly, yet not quite meeting his pure gaze.
"Aslan," she began, with such contempt that any other would have flinched at the words. Not Aslan. He remained quiet, as though found her threatening tone more wearisome than frightening. Her voice rose suddenly as her arm swung around, "You have a traitor there!" Her long white finger pointed straight at Edmund.
As everyone else did, I followed her gaze. All the colour had drained from my brother's face, and I felt a shudder run through his body close to mine. Automatically we moved closer to him surrounding him with our support. I placed my hand on his shoulder, Lucy tightened her hold on his hand, and Peter moved slightly in front of him. I thought I could see something close to amusement in the witch's eyes as she looked at us. She was marvelling that we could accept our brother so quickly after he had betrayed us.
She had a heart of ice. Aslan seemed sad as he replied, "his offence was not against you."
"Have you forgotten the deep magic?" the witch asked, turning her fierce attention back to Aslan.
"The deep Magic from the dawn of time?" Aslan raised his voice slightly, as though he were confused. The look on the Witch's face was triumphant. Whatever the Deep Magic involved, I knew it was bad news for us.
"You know what is written on that ancient table of Stone. You know the Magic that was put into Narnia in the very beginning." she smiled, "You know . . . that every traitor belongs to me, as my lawful prey, and that for every treachery I have the right to kill!"
The full reality of the moment was so overwhelming at first that I felt dizzy. This was real. And the danger to our lives was just as real as the bombs that were falling on London. I realised I hadn't truly accepted it before. We were in a strange land, alone with no one to help or comfort us. As the elder of the four, Peter and I had a responsibility to look after to others. We had failed Edmund. I had failed him. Perhaps if I had listened, seen what was passing in his mind . . . But such thoughts were too late. And only Aslan could save us now . . .
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I think only 4 people read my Peter fic but I decided to continue anyway. If you read this please let me know what you thought, or just let me know you read it!
I'm hoping to add another chap to Peter's story with an adventure from 'Prince Caspian', the same with this fic. And then Edmund and Lucy's stories should have 3 chapters, one from tLtW&tW, one from P.C and one from tDT.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*The Summer Princess* - Thanks for your review on KPTM, I hope you did 'excavate your set of Narnia books.' Edmund next! Yay! He's my fave! Any ideas for Lucy? I'm desperate - or for any of the others for further chapters? I'd like to hear what you think of this one! Thanks!
*Cheshire* - Glad you liked it! I hope you like this one too. From one Narnia writer to another, any ideas for Lucy's chap? :D
* ~ * - Thanks for the review! I'm happy you liked it! I hope you read this one.
*Forever Young* - This chapter was for you. But I don't think I did it as well as Peter's fic. What did you think? Any other recommendations? (I'm desperate!) I can't think of one for Lucy.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *