I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. I only write about them in between movie viewings.


Lucy found herself spending much of her time with Thomas, dogging his footsteps and pestering him with all sorts of questions about the ship and how it worked. He didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, he would always laugh and smile and answer as best he could, sometimes admitting that he still had much to learn about it, other times going into such enthusiastic detail that he would seem no older than her. He was an extraordinarily good-natured companion; sometimes Lucy would wonder if the sea air made a person like that.

Edmund and Peter, recovered except for a few lingering scratches and a bit of dark discoloring on his temple, had begun to skirmish frequently since the deck had dried sufficiently. They would nimbly skip back and forth, swords clanging together, laughing and correcting one another until they collapsed in the sun, breathing hard but grinning happily. Susan, who often watched, would smile and shake her head, itching to practice her archery but aware that it was too risky with the strong winds of the ocean so near at hand. Precisely a week after they'd set off there came a shout from the crow's nest and they looked north to see the faint outline of rock formations in the distance.

Captain Parry emerged from the navigation room below the upper deck with an armful of maps. He strode to the railing quickly, alternately examining the horizon and the footnotes, running a finger across a diagram and apparently double-checking things. Finally he dropped his hands to his sides and turned back to them.

"Sirens," he remarked. He seemed preoccupied and a bit distressed. Lucy had a faint and unexplainable thought of a harsh sound, rising and falling in pitch, then a rush of adrenaline-fueled terror shot through her blood before ending just as abruptly. She could not think why. The captain continued and she quickly forgot.

"King Peter, King Edmund," Parry said. "Later today we will most likely reach the rocks you see ahead. Before then, probably just after lunch, you will need to retire to your cabins and not leave them until I send someone down to get you. Do you understand?"

Edmund shook his head in puzzlement. A bearded, tough-looking sailor who had been lounging against the rail stood up.

"Sirens, Majesty," he said in a deep bass voice. "Bird-women. They're the prettiest things you'll ever clap eyes on and they sing with such a lovely, lovely voice, so beautiful I've seen good men jump ship to try and reach the blasted creatures. You'd best stay below where you can't hear so well. Their song does strange things to folks at sea."

"What about all of you, then?" Edmund asked, still confused.

"We can't leave the ship unmanned, especially up ahead in those rocks," Parry answered. "We knew we'd be sailing into these waters and they're known siren territory, so we plug our ears with beeswax and rely on gestures for instructions. It's dangerous but not so much as listening to the sea witches' music." He nodded curtly to the four siblings and walked away across the deck to reenter the navigation room.

Edmund shrugged and turned back to his brother. Peter leaned back against the railing, one hand keeping his sword from slipping through and into the ocean.

"I hate to be cooped up in there for so long," he said, realizing that Ed was waiting for him to speak. "But I suppose it's better than falling prey to the sirens."

"True," said Susan. "Perhaps you'd also better plug your ears. If you hear their song from below you might be drawn out."

"I could stand outside your cabin and keep watch," Lucy offered. Her brothers shook their heads but thanked her anyway, and they all stood as the smell of lunch drifted out in the ocean breeze. Waving to their sisters, Edmund and Peter disappeared down the staircase to rid themselves of their swords. Susan and Lucy ambled to the galley and stepped inside.

"Stew," Lucy remarked, without much enthusiasm. It was quite difficult to cook a large amount of anything that did not come in an enormous pot at sea. The wonderful taste of the soups from the week had not changed much, but as such they had become rather mundane and Lucy had begun to miss the real, solid foods of Cair Paravel. She and Susan took bowls from the stack against the wall and took a place in line of tired-looking sailors. Most of the excitement she'd had at the beginning of the journey was gone now, replaced by the dull reality of a week without bathing and proper ground beneath her feet.

The cook removed the lid of the pot and the line began to move. Shuffling forward, Lucy stared idly at the knots in the wood of the ceiling and enjoyed the thought that tomorrow, she might be able to wiggle her feet into the rough sand of the riverbank and stare up at the boughs of the evergreens instead. Then it would only be two days until they finally approached North Ettinsmoor. There, the real adventure would begin, and Lucy felt a twinge of her earlier anticipation return. Unlike Peter, she was not worried at all – the army could be called up and the first few brigades would arrive within a matter of days, so what was all the fuss about?

"Lu?" Susan said, prodding her forward. The line had advanced during her daydreams. Lucy mumbled an apology and scurried to receive her soup, scanning the room for a brief second before sliding into a seat beside Thomas.

"Hello, your highness," he said after swallowing a mouthful of stew.

"Highness indeed, you're much taller and higher than me," Lucy retorted with a grin.

"Not for long the way you're growing," Susan replied smoothly, appearing next to the table. She lifted her skirts with one hand and sat across from them. Thomas nodded his black-haired head respectfully to the elder Queen.

The door swung open, sending a breath of cooler air through the galley, and Peter walked in, senza sword and shield. He waved to his sisters as he passed and was followed through the door by Edmund. Lucy couldn't help noticing that her oldest brother looked quite exhausted. When he sat beside Susan a minute later, he practically fell onto the wooden bench, eyelids drooping. She clucked disapprovingly and frowned even as her eyes smiled.

"It seems the High King needs a nap," she said. He opened his mouth, closed it and shrugged hopelessly.

"You're probably right," he admitted. "I'm still feeling a bit under the weather, and as long as I have to stay in the cabin I might as well."

"Well, you'll be a load of fun," said Edmund. He caught Peter's pained look and smiled slightly. "Only joshing. I'll think of something to do."

"I've never heard a siren," Thomas remarked abruptly. The four Pevensies turned their heads to look him. He seemed thoughtful, even curious, resting his head on his hand and returning their gazes earnestly. "This is only my third voyage."

Lucy had an odd feeling of unease as she finished her meal.