ARGH! got screwy and I couldn't post...her we are, though FINALLY...
A/N: Yay, another action chapter! I really enjoy writing these; they're so…well…exciting! This chapter has a direct reference to the title; in that it is very ironic that certain roles are reversed and certain situations repeated…
I've just been to see Narnia again (woot!) and have noticed something interesting. Ed and Peter always seem to share significant looks. Whenever they're in the same scene, one is always looking at the other. And when the witch comes to claim Edmund's life, he's constantly looking up at Peter for reassurance. Sweet. (sighs)
And now…(rubs hands together in glee)
Chapter twenty six
Something enormous reared upwards out of the cascade of turbulence, sending jets of spray lashing across the river's surface. Edmund watched in horror as a huge, scalene head about the size of the boat itself emerged, pointed and snout-like. It was covered in hundreds of dark green and blue scales, which flexed and bent as the creature threw back its head and let out a high pitched screech.
They all clutched the sides of the boat as the creature plunged back beneath the surface, a deep, foam filled indent forming in its wake and sending the boat tossing even harder upon the waves. Before it had submerged, Edmund had seen a narrowed, crimson eye on the side of the creature's head swivel about to look at him.
He shuddered.
"By my beard, that be a chimaera! I ain't heard tell of one o' them types creeping up on clear rivers afore…grab a hold a summat, lads!"
But Peter and Edmund were already clutching onto the boat for dear life, Peter hunched against the sail, Edmund crouched beside the back seat. Edmund scanned the turbulent waters for any sign of a shadow, but saw nothing. There was a scraping of metal as Peter unsheathed his sword, and climbed unsteadily to his feet, wincing. Edmund noted he seemed to standing predominantly on one foot.
Peter couldn't fight anything when he couldn't even stand properly.
Rabadash also stood up, grasping his axe with a defiant flourish. Edmund swallowed, noticing his own sword just a few feet away across the bottom of the boat. He hesitated, and then made a lunge for it.
Unfortunately, the chimaera chose that very moment to act.
The entire boat lurched upwards, sending all three of the occupants slamming against various surfaces or simply being tossed into the air (in the dwarf's case). Edmund closed his eyes tightly shut as he collided with the edge of the boat with a jolt.
"It's below us! Ramming up from beneath!"
Peter exclaimed, and Edmund opened his eyes to see him leaning precariously over the edge of the boat, one hand still grasping the mast. He glanced down, and saw a small, splintered indent in the round bowl of the vessel.
Water was seeping through.
The boat was sinking.
"By Aslan's furry tail! One more hit like that, and the entire bottom will split right down the middle! We'll be serpent bait!"
Edmund muttered darkly as the dwarf brandished his axe threateningly at the surrounding water, and Peter looked up to meet his gaze, eyes filled with horror. They simply looked at each other. Neither had any idea how to get out of this one.
"I'll be a damned, beardless midget afore I let the bastard near ma Philice!"
The dwarf stomped his pointed foot, and both Peter and Edmund cried out as the crack widened considerably, and water began to gush in. Edmund looked from the water in the boat to the river about them.
There was no escape.
He felt panic rise in his throat, and he looked frantically to Peter, who seemed frozen, kneeling quite still in water which was steadily reaching his knees, eyes wide. But for once, his older brother had no answer. He looked just as frightened as Edmund felt.
Edmund mentally slapped himself.
This was ridiculous! Here they were, about to be sent to an undignified watery grave and all they could do was sit and stare! Maybe Cifel was right; humans truly were cowards. But Edmund, personally, would not stand for such an end. He would NOT allow history to repeat itself, wouldn't let Peter down again. He wasn't useless anymore. He could fight!
And with that resolution, he stood bolt upright, grabbed the sail and stared wildly about. There had to be a way out of this; some advantage, some gap in the chimaera's defenses. But how could they possibly fight and enemy they couldn't even see?
He felt his fear fade as he calculated each possible course of action with an abrupt evaluation. They had to force the creature to surface, if they wanted a clear shot. But how?
'We'll be serpent bait!'
Edmund blinked, then clapped a hand to his forehead in sudden realisation, to which Peter looked up in surprise, halting in his frenzied scanning of the dark water. Edmund's smile faltered, however. They had no meat with which to lure it out with…
Unless…
He swallowed, and looked to his brother, Peter's face still blanched with blind panic, and more than a little desperation.
Time to return a few favours.
"I'm going to jump in."
Silence.
"WHAT? Edmund, NO!"
Peter was on his feet now, staring at Edmund with a frenzied disbelief. He grabbed his little brother by the shoulders and stared at him as if he had gone mad. Edmund wondered whether he had. But as far as he could see, it was their only chance.
"Peter, listen. If I can just get it to surface, you can get a shot with your sword, or maybe the dwarf with his axe. And if not, well…you can swim to the bank while I-"
"AVE YE GONE MAD, LADDIE!"
Rabadash interjected, appearing at their side as the boat began to rock ominously again. Edmund stared into his brother's eyes unblinkingly, watching with slightly sluggish fascination as it changed colours and hues with each new emotion. Peter shook his head slowly, a slightly insane smile curling his features.
"You can't…possibly…expect…Ed, no…"
And suddenly Peter had sat down heavily on the bottom of the boat, bent double and emitting stifled giggles. Edmund stared, stunned, as his brother began to shake with uncontrollable laughter; Edmund bent down, concerned.
There were tears streaming down Peter's cheeks.
And then, the stifled chuckles contorted into harsh sobs, and tremors wracked his brother's hunched form. Edmund watched, feeling strangely numb, as Peter seemed to lose all semblance of hope right before his eyes.
Eventually, he raised blank, china blue eyes to smile bitterly up at Edmund.
"Ed…we're going…to die…"
It was that same resigned, somewhat cold acceptance which Edmund had seen in Peter's eyes that day at the beach, as he rose to salvation even as his brother was condemned to slavery.
But Edmund never, ever wanted to that look of such helplessness in his brother's eyes again.
He leant down, and embraced his brother tightly, breathing in that comforting smell of peppermint one last time. He was strangely calm. He sighed, and gave his brother one last consoling squeeze before he drew back, balancing awkwardly on his knees.
"No, we're not. Or at least, you're not. Because I won't let you."
He bent forwards once more, cradled Peter's face in his hands and pressed a brief kiss to his brother's forehead.
Before hurling himself out over the side of the boat, and plunging into the converging torrential cascade of the river's wrath. Within moments, he was lost in the darkness.
And Peter screamed.
"EDMUND!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cifel cried out and tumbled in the air, barely regaining his balance in time, and cursed. Two simultaneous surges of pure agony had suddenly torn across the Sons of Adam's auras. His own chest was burning in the aftermath, small pulses of fear still trickling in from the broken bond Cifel had forged with them.
But they weren't dead.
Not yet.
He shuddered. Their pain had filled the void where his heart had once been, blinding his senses with emotions he had worked so hard to suppress. And now, he thought, bitterly, he remembered why.
If it hurt so much to love, to hope, why bother with it?
He would never understand.
But, he realized, it wasn't about understanding. Belief was, in fact, the complete opposite of the will to know, to understand. For without knowledge, all that is left is to believe.
If that were so…
Then he needed to stop trying to understand, stop questioning the ways of the world. He remembered a time when he had blindly followed that kindling fire within his heart, willingly accepting that whatever course he might take, he would not suffer for it.
He knew better now.
But suffering was part of happiness. Without suffering to counteract joy, there would be nothing but impassive acceptance to fill the world.
Did he truly want that?
No.
Ironic that goodness may only exist when there is evil to contrast to it.
For without evil, what is good?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
The witch stood irresolute upon her chariot of war, her hair and neck garment she had fashioned from Aslan's fur billowing out behind her. Her chariot was now drawn by four, snowy coloured tigers, as the reindeer were of no use in summer. She clenched the broken shards of her wand in her hand and seethed.
How could she have let almost all slip through her hands?
Merely from the simple misconception of s ingle being's prowess. That accursed angel! If it hadn't been for him, she would still have the sons of Adam at her mercy, ready to be used as barter tools.
But she would have to make do.
Two thrones filled in Cair Paravel…it wasn't perfect, but for now, it would suffice. She would assassinate the daughters of Eve when the opportunity presented itself. Now, however, she had a double bluff to attend to.
Cifel was foolish indeed if he believed she would truly be so crude as to send a chimaera after the sons of Adam to do her dirty work. Oh, no. This was only the first act.
The worst, in their eyes, at least, was yet to come.
Jadis smirked, and brought the broken shards of the wand up before her.
Perfectly, cruelly jagged, with a single protruding tip sharper than any knife or sword could ever be.
Yes. The perfect tool with which to exact her vengeance.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Hey…Susan?"
"Mmmm?"
"Are you awake?"
A sigh, and a shift of clothing.
"Well, I am now. What is it?"
Lucy bit her lip, and turned over in her makeshift bed to looked Susan in the eye. She clutched the edge of her pillow, willing herself not to seem as worried as she felt.
"I've just got…a terrible feeling. Like a weight in my stomach."
Susan's face grew concerned, and she hastily clambered out of bed, moving across the soft rug which lay on the floor of the tent. She knelt beside her little sister and felt her forehead.
"You have no fever. Is it a stomach ache?"
Lucy shook her head fervently, sitting up and bunching the covers around her, which Susan promptly smoothed. A shaft of moonlight filtered through a gap in the tent, and a soft night breeze cooled their cheeks. Susan looked so like their mother to Lucy, and she shivered.
"No, it's not a pain like that. It's more…I don't know. Like…something horrible…is going to happen."
Susan looked at her, then helped her lie back down and tucking her in before moving back to clamber into her own bed. She smiled reassuringly at Lucy as she too lay down.
"It's probably just a feeling. Don't worry, Lu. It's nothing. Go back to sleep."
But Lucy knew that Susan didn't really mean that.
After all, she could tell Susan hadn't slept a wink that night either.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: I have a VERY special twist in the works. A plot twist, that is. I only just thought of it, as a matter of fact. I don't know, though…it's a bit drastic. What do you think? Big plot twist, or no big plot twist?
And if so, think you can predict it? If it's predictable, it's not worth using.
Toll: I know something you don't know, doo da, doo da, I know something you don't know, doo da do da day…EEEK!
Cifel: (brandishes frying pan threateningly) One more word…just one, and I swear…
(Laughs nervously) Uh…yeah…SOMEBODY GET ME OUT OF HERE!
Oh, and review…(runs away as fast as her OC fearing legs can carry her)