Disclaimer: I do not own Peter, Lucy, Susan, Edmund, the White Witch, Aslan, or any other characters originally developed by C.S. Lewis. I respect them completely and tried to write them as he would (no promises tho!) Rhianna and Darkmoon are mine! Thanx.

Chapter Two: Strangers In Narnia

Peter gaped around in shock at the snow-covered world that met his eyes. Lucy's tale was true! There really was another world in the wardrobe! It defied all possible explanation – something that irritated his sister Susan to no end – and set his mind spinning. He was a tall, handsome young man between fifteen and sixteen years of age, with dusty blonde hair, piercing marine-blue eyes, and lean build. He wore a plain blue cotton shirt tucked haphazardly into khaki slacks and, over that, a dark brown fur coat, which he had donned at Susan's suggestion. A small tug on his sleeve drew his gaze down to his little sister's hopeful face.

"Can we go see Mr. Tumnus? Please?" Lucy asked eagerly. She was small for her eight years, with a cherubic countenance and sparkling brown eyes. Her sister Susan was tall – nearly as tall as Peter – and slim. Her dark brown hair reached just below her shoulders and her face was gentle and pleasant – light blue eyes, full lips, and a dusting of freckles across her nose. Then there was Edmund, the fourth sibling. He had the slightly pinched look that comes from frowning too often, but when those creases cleared, they revealed dark, charming eyes, a firm jaw line, and a spattering of dark freckles across his nose and upper cheeks.

Peter smiled kindly down at his youngest sister. "Of course, Lu. We might as well, since you are the only one who's been here before."

Lucy frowned briefly. "Edmund's been here too!"

"I have not!" the twelve-year-old responded hotly.

"Enough," Peter interjected before Lucy could argue further. Casting a stern glance in his brother's direction, he rested a hand on Lucy's shoulder. "Now," he said, "let's go meet this Mr. Tumnus."

Several minutes later, Lucy stared in horror at the remains of the door the faun's home. It hung on one hinge, swinging slightly in the wind and papers littered the ground just outside. Inside, they could just make out the dim outlines of overturned furniture and ransacked chests, drawers, and desks. "Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy suddenly cried, rushing inside.

"Lucy! Wait!" Peter called, making a grab for her coat, but missing as she dodged past. Mildly exasperated, he followed after her with Susan and Edmund close on his heels. Once their eyes adjusted to the dimness, they gazed around in stunned silence. Cushions had been shredded, tables splintered, pictures and paintings desecrated, papers torn to pieces, and inkwells splashed over everything. Lucy's eyes welled up with tears and she began to cry softly. Susan crouched beside her and murmured something gently in her ear while Peter allowed his eyes to track carefully over the wreckage. A bit of parchment tacked to the door post caught his eye and he swiftly crossed the room and tore it down. "Look at this," he said, beckoning his siblings over. As they gathered round, he read:

"'The former occupant of these premises, the Faun Tumnus, is under arrest and awaiting his trial on a charge of High Treason against her Imperial Majesty Jadis, Queen of Narnia, Chatelaine of Cair Paravel, Empress of the Lone Islands, etc. also of comforting her said Majesty's enemies, harboring spies and fraternizing with Humans.

Maugrim, Captain of the Secret Police

LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!'"

"You know," Susan commented when Peter finished, "I don't think this place is going to be as wonderful as we imagined. Maybe we should go home, before anyone misses us."

Peter was about to agree, but Lucy suddenly caught his sleeve. "Oh, we can't Peter! It's my fault that Mr. Tumnus got caught! We must try to help him before something horrible happens to him!"

"Lu," Peter began, trying to be patient and reason with her, "there's not much we can do. We don't even know where they're keeping him."

"Please, Peter," Lucy begged, "we have to at least try."

He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a loud "Psst!" coming suddenly from a clump of bushes to his right. He spun towards the noise in a defensive stance, but his "show yourself" died on his lips as a large, round beaver poked cautiously out into the open. "Psst," he repeated, "Come, Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve, come, we must get you indoors before she discovers you're here. Even some of the trees are on her side, you know."

"Who?" Edmund asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"The Witch," the beaver barely whispered, shuddering visibly, then gesturing furiously for them to follow him. "Hurry, we must go. Come, come." Dropping back to all fours, he turned and waddled off into the woods.

Intrigued and curious, the four siblings fell into step behind him, warily glancing over their shoulders from time to time at their tracks that faded into the distance.

"Peter?" Edmund had sidled up to his older brother. "Do you even realize what we're doing? We're following a talking beaver who-knows-where and we know nothing about him. What if he's not on our side?"

"Lucy trusts him, and he's on the same side as Tumnus," Peter replied reasonably.

Edmund scowled. "We don't even know which side Tumnus is on. For all we know, he and this beaver could be our enemies and this Queen or Witch or whatever could be our friend."

Peter glanced sharply at his younger brother. Edmund was staring vaguely to the north. "I'm inclined to believe Lucy on this," he said firmly.

Edmund scowled again and dropped back behind Peter to walk by himself.

They walked for what seemed like hours and just before the sun set completely, the beaver stopped and announced, "Here we are! It's not much, but its home." He pushed aside the last few branches to reveal the banks of a pristine frozen lake, blocked at one end by an ice-encrusted dam, on which a snow-covered hovel perched inconspicuously. The beaver led them carefully across the ice and ushered them in quickly. As Peter ducked through the entrance after his siblings, he was greeted warmly by a plump, bespectacled female beaver, who reached up to pat his cheek and shove a hot glass of tea into his hands. Mr. Beaver leaned out, briefly scanned the landscape, then shut and bolted the door before joining them at the table for supper.