Disclaimer: Welp, this chapter wasn't supposed to exist; it was only supposed to be four chapters long and end on Halloween. I'm not claiming this runaway brat.
Lucy did not remember much of the next day. She had vague impressions of warmth, of comforting voices, and of hurting voices too.
But none of them were enough to break through the music. She could still hear it, even in the daytime. And though it was the soft, sleepy kind, and it did not demand she move, it held her in thrall. When the music had ceased the night before, she had fallen unconscious before her body hit the ground. Now she could not fully wake up. Nor could she fall back into oblivion.
Hour after hour ticked itself away while the same sleepy tune played over and over. Lucy wished she could sleep more, prepare for the night she was vaguely aware was coming, but all she could do was listen to the music.
And try to hold on to the voices that murmured beneath it.
The voices began ceasing, one by one, till only one was left—feminine, quiet, and with the strength that embraced rather than challenged. That voice did not stop, and Lucy clung to it, to the indistinguishable murmur that meant all the real things she knew still existed.
And she prayed to Aslan.
The music changed, becoming a call, and Lucy felt the world blur around her once more, as if she floated on air, and when it firmed again, she stood in the clearing, her feet aching under her weight. Though part of her felt different tonight, as if a light breeze continually rushed through her body, though her hair and green dress did not move. She shivered.
"Ah, you're feeling the cold, my dancer. I'm sorry I can't help that." A hand reached from behind her and stroked her cheek, before two arms wrapped around her shoulders in an embrace like a glacier. "I couldn't bring your physical body here anymore, and that is such a shame. You were so warm." The hands held her more tightly. "I'll have to do with one of the other three instead. Your sister, perhaps; she's also very warm. Wouldn't it be nice to dance with her? Or one of your brothers. Already I can feel two of them coming closer."
No, Lucy screamed, or tried to, but though she could feel her mouth open, she could not utter a sound. The Lele chuckled, stroking her cheeks. "Don't fret, I'll still dance with you. I think you'll be rather a favourite of mine. For as long as you last. But I must away to my music if I am to call anyone!" White clouds spilled from her fingers, wrapping Lucy in a fog as cold as it was smothering. If she touched it her limb went numb. She could not see nor hear, not even the music. The world was white and cold, and she wondered, with a sickening lurch at the thought, if Edmund had ever felt like this under the White Witch.
Lucy had another long wait. She tried to be patient, and to use time experimenting with how much she could move, and trying to break the fog, or walk through it even numb. When none of those worked she sat and tried to think of ways to escape during the dance, when the song changed—after the first or second song, maybe, before she grew too tired?
She was so preoccupied by her plans that when the fog split apart and a shriek suddenly echoed through the forest, she sat stunned for a brief second.
"Do not keep them from me!" the Lele screamed. She passed over Lucy with a glance, running further around the clearing, and Lucy saw the indistinct forms of the six Fauns where she glanced. She scrambled to her feet, then paused, looking back at the singer. She had begun pacing a circle, in the red grass where they had danced last night, taking deep breaths. Then she threw her head back and sang, sang a song of such longing that Lucy's heart ached.
For a moment. But then she stuffed her hands over her ears. Somehow, without actual ears, the action cut off the music more completely than it would have otherwise. The longing ceased. At once she ran to the nearest Faun—to Onia. Onia had also risen to her feet, young eyes wide, beginning to move with hesitant, wincing steps towards the Lele. Lucy took a deep breath, knowing it would be heart-breakingly hard to refuse the music once she heard it. She thought of Aslan as much as she could, and reached out and clapped Onia's hands over the Faun's own ears. Aslan, Aslan, deep voice and golden mane and so much a better longing than the one in the clearing—Aslan, Aslan, Aslan. She held Onia's hands in place for a brief moment, waiting till the Faun's eyes widened, before letting going and holding her own hands over her own ears once more. Onia still looked at her with wide eyes.
Go! Lucy mouthed, nodding her head towards the forest. Onia at once began running. Lucy turned to the next Faun, Ricus, and ran to him, standing in his way as he, too, made his way to the Lele. But he only needed a brief second of seeing her, eyes pleading, hands clapped over her ears, before he covered his own. He did not, as Onia had, run to the forest, but to Munma. Lucy ran to Duaslus. Munma stayed to help get Tontu and Phor, but it was less than a minute before all the Fauns were aware and fog-free.
And running into the forest. Lucy left her hands over her ears till the firelight had completely faded. When she finally took them off so she could run faster, she could not hear any music, nor any footsteps of the Fauns. She hoped they were free, and that the Lele could not call them back.
"You should not have run away," came a gently chiding voice behind her, and Lucy stiffened, hands automatically clapping over her ears. But ten freezing fingers overlaid her own, and with the strength of a Giant they pushed Lucy's down from her ears. "I wanted all of my dancers—I love lively times—but if I must have just one fire for warmth I will pick you. Come back with me, little dancer. There are four more nights after this one."
"No," Lucy said, but her voice choked on the word; it didn't leave her lips. The Lele had made her own words into music as well, and it was hard to resist.
"You cannot have her," a stern voice said from behind them, and Lucy felt herself whirled around, the cold hands still clutching her arms
Edmund, Lucy breathed, for there he stood. Salyte, Sethen, and oh, so many Narnians stood beside him. You found me.
Edmund read the words he could not hear. "An Eagle, flying in the shadow of a cloud, saw the fires last night. Then the Hounds followed the cold scent till we found you." Edmund' hard eyes rose to the Lele holding his sister. "And we found something else, too, foul creature."
"And what is that, fiery King?" Still the Lele laughed through her words, and Lucy shivered.
"If you let my sister go—or whatever of her you have—I will tell you. You will want to know," he warned, hand clenched around the sword.
The Lele ran her cold fingers through Lucy's hair, brushing it back from her face. "But the price might be too high. I am very fond of this one. You both have such fire, bent on goodness—it's deliciously warm."
"Then would you take a trade?" Edmund sheathed his sword. "I am warmer than she is, for she is tired."
No! How Lucy wished she could scream!
The Lele's fingers paused. "You would make such a trade?"
Edmund shrugged. "Someone once did the same for me." His eyes looked down from the Lele to Lucy's pleading face, a tear falling down one cheek. "And she is my sister."
The Lele brushed the tear away, leaving numbness behind. "Hmmm. I would believe you, King, were it not for one thing." She wrapped both arms around Lucy and leaned her head on top of Lucy's. "Your guard is not protesting a single word."
"She is their Queen, and they will not contradict me on this."
"Oh, I can see that, fiery one, but no protest for your own safety? Do not think me so ignorant of the ways of Narnia that I would not question such a thing. Why would they let you go without a single objection?"
Edmund suddenly smiled—a sharp, terrifying thing. "Because of what else we found," he said in a low voice. "A tree with red grass at its base, and a nest of ice-covered sticks in the crown." He ran two steps forward, grabbing Lucy's arm and pulling her from the surprised arms of the Lele, then spinning her behind him and backing away.
Lucy, her hands holding Edmund's arm, moved behind him, but her eyes stayed fixed on the Lele—for the ends of her hair were aflame.
And the captor had begun to feel it, for she ran her white hands down her hair, down till her fingers met with fire. "What did you do?" she cried, looking at Edmund. Lucy shuddered, for her bright blue eyes held the horror of the Fauns. The fire spread down her sides, to the hem of her dress, and up to outline her shoulders. "What did you do?"
"To kill a dark Dryad, you cut the tree. To kill a Lele, you burn its nest." Edmund's fingers closed more tightly around Lucy's wrist, and Lucy closed her eyes and leaned into his back, not wanting to see the rest. The Lele gave one more shriek—not musical but pure horror and fury and pain—before all the sound ceased, and suddenly Lucy could no longer feel Edmund's fingers.
When she opened her eyes, she saw gentle lamplight shining on the stone walls and the high wooden rafters of her bedroom. She sat up with a gasp.
"Lucy?" Susan stood, the book on her blue skirt tumbling to the floor. "Lucy!" Her sister's arms, warm, so very warm after the Lele's, wrapped around Lucy's shoulders, and then Susan was brushing back her hair, looking into her eyes, checking her arms for hurt—and carefully avoiding her hands. "Lucy, are you well? Are you free? How do you feel? Get the healers!" A Wolf's joyful bark—Ferela—sounded, and then four paws ran around the bed.
There was a rustling of feathers and then wings beating, and moments later came a thundering on the door. "Your Majesty! Your Majesty! The Fauns—" the Dwarf broke off when he saw Lucy sitting up, and then his whole face lit up in a wide grin. "The Fauns are awake, your Majesties. I'll spread the news!" He bowed and moved out, closing the door, only for it to be yanked open by a Owl, his bag of herbs and tools held in one claw.
"Send word to Peter and Edmund!" Susan called after the Dwarf, moving to the side but keeping one hand on Lucy's shoulder. Lucy bore with the ensuing examination as well as she could, but her eyes kept wanting to close. She was so tired, and her feet still ached. She fell asleep before her brothers made it home, and slept through their tiptoed entry. And Ferela's re-entry. And the Panthers. And the Leopards. And Oreius. And Mr. Tumnus. And…well, Lucy was a well-loved Queen, and most people in the castle stuck their heads quietly in the door to watch her sleeping peacefully before going on their way, wiping their eyes or muttering thanks to Aslan.
Lucy slept through most of the next day, but when she woke, she went straight to the Fauns, her siblings following closely. And Oreius and Ferela tailing them. Phor, Tontu, and Munma hadn't woken up yet, but the Healers said they were healing fast. Onia had woken up and stayed awake long enough her parents took her home.
"Then I will have to go meet her," Lucy said seriously. She thought for a moment. "I think we should all go to the festival, on that last night."
"Lucy—" Susan protested, but Peter held up his hand.
"Why?" he asked quietly.
"Aslan made music and dancing. Oh, Peter, don't you see? I don't want to be afraid of those things. I don't want to have nightmares about them. A Festival celebrating Aslan's gifts—using music and dancing the way they were meant to—I don't think there's any better way to remind myself of how good they are."
Peter traded a glance with Susan, the older siblings taking counsel. Behind them Edmund rolled his eyes but stayed quiet.
"If the Healers agree," Susan said at least, speaking for all of them.
"May I go with you, Your Majesty?" Oreius asked. "I promise not to let go of your hand this time."
"You'd just found the Lele's trail that led to her nest, and that saved me in the end," Lucy reminded him. "But please do come. Only, you have to dance with me again!" Oreius bowed, and Lucy smiled at Ferela. "You too?" The Wolf nodded. "Then we'll all go," she promised. "As soon as the Healers let me."
The Healers did not feel like releasing her Majesty "to a night of cold and exertion, really, that's poorly thought out!" till the last night of the Festival. By then all the Fauns had woken as well, and had agreed—some hesitantly—to accompany the Queen who had saved them to the festival.
Phor and Tontu had to be carried, but jolly Munma leaned on Ricus' arm and smiled the entire way, to be walking on his own hooves. Lucy, surrounded by a crowd, did not have any moments of quiet to even hear the breeze on the way to the Festival, but as they approached, she began to hear the music.
And it was clean. It was joyful, it was good; it made her want to dance, but it left her with a choice. There wasn't anything scary about it. So she looked over at Onia, walking beside her, her eyes a little wide and pale. And Lucy smiled, holding out her hand. Onia smiled back—it was very hard to resist Lucy's smile—and together they went to join the dance. The rest of the Narnians followed them, and soon, in the atmosphere of joy and thanksgiving, all of them, all, were laughing as they danced. And if they had to sit out after one dance, they sat with a smile, and gave thanks to Aslan for the harvest that had ended, and the way He'd brought them safely back to the good magic of music.
A/N: A part of me thought about doing this story with Susan as the narrator instead of Lucy—and while the villainess and general outline would remain the same, it would be a rather different story, since Susan thinks so differently. But by the time I saw where, exactly, this was going, it was the third chapter and I didn't want to rewrite them. But it's an interesting idea, at least for me, to picture how the story might have changed with Susan as the main character.