Authors note: Again, I do not own the works of C.S Lewis. These are based more on the movies, than the books, and I've made some small changes to the official canon, but nothing too distracting.


Chapter 1

Sunlight was streaming through the guestroom window as Primrose's eyelids fluttered open. A soft tune from the radio could be heard from behind the door. A small groan escaped from her as she sat up and stretched. Her shoulder length hair was messy. Pointing to all directions. Her feet stepped down from the bed to meet a cold wooden floor. Grimacing slightly at the feeling she jumped up and tiptoed quickly to her morning slippers.

While rubbing sleep sand off the corners of her eyes, she moved to a vanity in a corner of the room. The vanity was beautifully crafted by Prim's grandfather years ago to her grandmother.

Her fingers grazed across the desk before sitting down and grabbing a hairbrush that she'd gotten a few months ago for her fourteenth birthday. She stared into the mirror while getting all the tangles out of her golden colored locks.

Prim was quite short for her age, much stockier in build and chubbier on the cheeks than most of her classmates. A small frown appeared on her face after putting the brush down. "It's grandma's fault…why does she always make me eat so much." Primrose thought and got up with a creak from the chair. Now looking over to the set of boy's clothes in a pile next to the bedside table. Taking a quick glance over to the other bed in the room. "Dad must've left with grandpa to fish." With a small shrug to her shoulders and a stride to her step she moved quickly to put her clothes on.

Unbeknownst to Primrose someone was waiting for her behind the door.

"Gotcha' kiddo!" "Oof!" She let out a small gasp as she was put in a headlock and her hair was ruffled by a tall lanky man.

"Agh! Quit it daaaad-"Prim whined, while looking up at Tom and grimacing. Her father was a tired looking, but handsome man. Some might describe him is rugged. Though if he hears himself being called that he'll be quick to correct "Rugged and good looking!"

He like most days was dressed up in his woodworking outfit, which was covered in stains, holes and patches on most of the big holes.

"I thought you went fishing with grandpa?" *Primrose asked after being released from the headlock. While rubbing her head and listening, she headed further into the kitchen, and dining area.

"Not, quite yet, me and your gramps Cecil got to fix one of the fish traps." Tom explained while heading to the front door. "You can still come with kiddo." He turned to look at Prim, who was scrunching her nose with annoyance. Tom let out a laugh, while shaking his head.

"Don't laugh! We might tip over in grandpa's old creaky boat. It barely stays afloat with two people on it. Let alone three" She shivered from the thought. Nothing seemed more unpleasant of an activity than one that would get her, and her clothes wet.

"Alright, alright. I'll go help dad. Oh, now that I remember to say. My sister and your cousins are coming over later today. So, I'll be sleeping in the attic while you can share the guest room with Joyce and Russell." With that he stepped out of the door and to the woodworking shed.

She let out a small sigh at the news. She didn't particularly have anything against her younger cousins, but they could be bratty and spoiled like curdled milk. So, she did her utmost best to stay as far as she could from them. Especially since they've recently gotten to the habit of asking her about her mother and why she dressed so odd.

Auntie's husband was an upperclassman from the very center of London, which of course made aunty an upper-class woman now too. She sure acted like it. Primrose was sure auntie wouldn't put a pinky toe inside of this house if she didn't love her mother and father dearly.

Rosie's thoughts were interrupted by a couple fast paced steps heading her way and a harsh tap on her head. Her hands shot up immediately to protect her hair. She moved away from her assailant. Ready to smack them back. That courage dwindled soon as she looked up at the piercing look in her grandma's eyes.

"I've bought you who knows how many dresses and skirts…" Grandma Christine let out an exasperated sigh. "And still, you insist on wearing those shorts like a boy!" Primrose looked down at her feet, kicking the ground.

"I've worn those skirts you bought me. These are just so much easier to be in." She argued against the old woman. It's not like Prim disliked most dresses, or dressing girly. Most of the clothes grandma bought her were old fashioned and uncomfortable tough. So, in a small way of rebelling, she had decided to bring only her boy clothes with her. Which she most often used while helping her dad with woodworking.

Christine pointed the wooden spoon that whacked Primrose earlier at her. "When your aunt's husband and kids come over you better have changed out of those and into a dress!"

"I didn't bring any." "What?" "I said I didn't bring any." Prim stated matter-of-factly.

Granma Christine's hand flailed the spoon in the air threateningly before it fell to her side. "There are some old skirts in the big wardrobe upstairs, one of them ought to' fit you." Christine dismissed Primrose with a wave. Seemingly tired of the bickering already.

"Ugh. Fine!" She said while her shoulders slumped. Feeling a bit bad about arguing with the old woman and deciding to just suck it up for this one time.

Deciding to go change later, she went over to snatch a couple bread buns, cheese and an apple for breakfast before heading back into the guest room to tidy things up.


Even though Primrose had only meant to stay in the room for a short while, she remembered what an interesting spot the story she had been reading was in. So instead of going to change she had stayed in bed reading until way over noon.

Leaves falling from the oak tree outside had caught her attention momentarily. Everything seemed so colorful as autumn had turned the leaves different shades of golden, brown, orange and red. Grass was still green, and a few flowers remained vibrant in grandma's garden. This brought a subtle smile on her lips. She and her father had stayed at this house for a few weeks now, so she had witnessed the shades of plant life around change rapidly. Looking out into the woods beyond the garden reminded her of what was beyond them.


A messenger bag on her shoulder and a light, tan gabardine jacket wrapped up around her kept the crisp autumn wind from chilling her. Primrose made her way past the cozy familiar house and its garden. Towards the colorful woods.

A nostalgic feeling began filling her mind. Having walked through this small gravel path many times over the years. Of the few things that was told of her mother by Tom, was that she loved walking through these hills and woods. Especially during summer and spring.

As she put one foot in front of the other Primrose began to wonder if she should have brought something to eat. The bread buns and apple suddenly didn't seem so filling.

Those thoughts were pushed out of her mind as she reached the edge of the woods. Now fully in her view was the house of Professor Kirke, if you could call it a mere house. To Prim it looked more like a mansion. He was an odd old man. She had not seen him often. Only a couple of times she had managed to catch a glimpse of him staring out of the window and into the woods.

Then there was a figure she'd see much more often on her walks near the mansion. Mrs. Macready a foul woman, who was sure to chase little Primrose off the edge of the property if given a chance.

Very thought of being face to face with that witch made Prim shudder. She decided swiftly to search for a spot where it would be hard to spot her. After looking left and right she began walking a bit deeper into the woods again while making sure she still had eyes on the house.

As she shuffled through the fallen leaves, a sound could be heard. It was as if someone was mimicking her steps, but more softly. This unnerved the fourteen-year-old. Enough for her to walk backwards. Her eyes glaring at the trees. Makin sure that no animal was tracing her steps.

Unfortunately, like it is most often when you take your eyes off a trail less traveled, you're bound to come across an obstacle or two.

Gasp! Primrose yelped as her heel contacted with something solid. Holding her balance, she whipped her head around to whatever made her stumble.

"A tree stump." All the anxiety now rolling off her shoulders as she examined the stump. It apparently belonged to a previously large tree clearly not cut with an axe. But years had whittled away at its previous sharp surface, making it quite smooth but bumpy.

To her joy she was still able to see the mansion from here. Deciding this to be as good of a place as any to relax. Primrose eagerly sat down and opened her bag. Inside of which was a book for sketching, some drawing equipment, a box of matches and some firecrackers. A mischievous smirk appeared on her face as she imagined lighting the firecrackers under Mrs. Macready's window. The shock to her seemed well deserved.

Pushing the idea in the back of her mind, much like the firecrackers in her bag. She'd take out the book and some charcoal. Settling even more on the spot as she began roughly drawing the building that had completely caught her imagination.

As much as Primrose lacked concentration during classes, for some reason she got completely lost in her own world in here. For she did not even acknowledge the soft whispers that had carried into her ears. It wasn't until Rosie began hearing soft singing that she got snapped out of her trance. Blonde hair tussling in the air as her eyes searched for the source of this sound.

"Hello...? Wh-who's there?" She bit the inside of her cheek at the stutter that had left her lips. Those ominous whispers only grew louder. So, she jumped up from the stump. The book and drawing equipment would have fell on the ground if not for her quick reflexes.

"I asked who's there? Joyce, Russell? If it's, you. You can stop now." Her posture getting more hostile, while imagining the two brats pulling a prank on her. That daring attitude faltering as soon as she looked down at the stump. One of the many cracks on the wood had gotten wider, and a very faint flickering light was shining through. A warm light that was only growing stronger by the second. Quickly it was a light so bright that not even closing your eyes would prevent it from shining.

Prim stepped back hastily in disbelief, her heel getting caught in one of the roots, which sent her falling backwards. Her hands moved up to protect her head. Waiting for the ground to hit her. Only that didn't happen.

One. Two. Three. Three seconds and she was still falling. Those whispers were interrupted by a distant roar. Primrose felt that roar, no matter how distant in her very soul. A warm feeling engulfed her body, and a breath of hot air blew hair off her face. For that fleeting moment she felt so peaceful. As if nothing in the world could ever hurt her.

Alas it was only a moment, when the cruel cold reality of the situation came back with a splash!


Primrose gasped; her mouth filled with water. Her hands and feet pushed against soggy sand, her head desperately searching for air.

"Ugh..blegh.."She coughed the water out. Managing to open her eyes just enough to see what seemed like a wide sandy beach. The teenager swam towards land, letting out coughs and trying to make sense of this foreign situation.

"Where- where am I?" Rosie managed to utter with a croaky voice, before fully pulling herself on the warm dry sand. She rubbed her eyelids and blinked at the surroundings. A very steep cliffside towered above her, and on top of that a breathtaking sight.

A palace. Most beautiful building, she had ever seen. Its white stone walls, gold and silver gilded roofs and statues shone in the setting afternoon sun. Her brows furrowed slightly at the cracks and holes that were rippled all around its sides.

What snapped her out of her thoughts were sounds. Sounds of hooves and commands that she couldn't quite figure out.

Instead of horses emerging from behind the edge of the cliffside, Primrose was met with a sight more curious than anything she had seen so far.

Galloping right at her was a creature with an upper torso of a man, where a head of a horse was meant to be. A centaur. It had raised its bow right at Rosie, who was too stunned to move.

"A Telmarine has washed up to the shore!" This centaur wasn't alone by any measure. Beings like him began surrounding the shivering girl. All of them pointing a weapon or two at her. Prepared to cut her down even from the smallest movement.

Finally gathering enough courage to speak Primrose said with a shaky voice. "What is this place? Actually, what are you?! "I must be dreaming" Despite her disbelief as she looked around there was no denying that every part of this place felt real. Seagulls calling out above, salty ocean air, the water rushing to the shore and the sand beneath her soggy shoes. All of it was so real.

"Hah don't try to play dumb telmarian, just to save your own skin." A centaur with ginger brown hair said. His demeanor and voice oozing arrogance. "Play dumb? I don't even know what a tel…whatchamacallit is!" This got a couple suspicious coughs out of the towering figures around her.

"No matter what you claim to be..." The tallest one out of the bunch said. "We shall find out for sure soon enough. Detain him." He said calmly sheathing his sword.

"Detain?!" Rosie shrieked and stepped away from the one making commands. Only to end up right in the arms of another mythical creature behind her. That is when it all went to black.


"They caught another spy Tyviel." A muffled low voice echoed down a long corridor.

"Another one? Telmars seem to be eager to get rid of their men." A voice much lighter and older muttered with a sigh. "Where are you keeping them then?"

"Over here." The steps approached and a wooden door creaked open. One of them approaching right next to where Primrose was laying on. Unable to see anything except for a flicker of a candle through whatever cloth was draped over her head.

"Where did you find this one, its garments are wet.?"

"Isolis saw someone swimming to the shore from the southern cliffside. As the scouts reached the beach. That small thing was wobbling out of the water and staring at the palace." The male answered in a gruff manner.

"The one giving commands." Prim thought, recognizing his voice from the beach. Still trying to regain her consciousness fully. Her head was aching.

"Did you see a boat Artalion?" The softer female voice asked again. "No, I've set a few soldiers to survey the area to be certain."

As the one called Artalion began recounting the encounter. The hood that had covered Prim's head was pulled off swiftly. She let out a small groan, trying to open her eyes fully.

A gasp came out from the old woman. "It is but a child!" Some motherly concern slipping to her tone as Tyviel examined the girl longer.

Voice belonging to the commander answered with an awkward cough. "Well, yes… I did think that it was rather small for a human. Though it would not be the first time that they've sent over young boys to do their bidding. As unfortunate as it is… we are at war Tyviel. We can't afford to underestimate them."

"I'm not an 'it' and, I'm NOT a boy." Primrose croaked. The saltwater making her voice coarser than what it usually was. Finally taking a proper look at the creatures sharing a space with her.

As much as she was expecting the centaur. She wasn't ready to see him again, and definitely wasn't ready to see an old lady with goat legs and horns. Looking between them in disbelief, Rosie didn't see the chains that had restrained her onto a hook on the wall.

"Oh, bloody hell…" She leaned on the wall, trying to wrap her head around this most curious of turns.

"Telmars send small girls to do their dirty work now?! Do they have no sense of chivalry or pride?" His horse tail whipped around in tandem with his peeved off huffs. Meanwhile the faun was staring at Prim with a thoughtful look in her narrowed eyes.

This made the young girl shrink into herself and back away into the wall. Only now fully noticing the chains that were bound around her feet.

"Could it be...? No." The faun shook her head while looking around the room. "Was this with the girl?" Tyviel pointed at Prim's messenger bag. After getting a nod from the centaur, who was still fuming. She picked it up. Turning it around and upside down. All of the soggy belongings now on the cold stone floor.

"Hey, be careful with that." The blonde girl shifted. Having never been a fan of people going through her stuff.

Tyviel ignored the small plead and picked up things one by one. She furrowed her very thick and bushy grey brows at the firecrackers. Before moving onto the book full of sketches. Those made with charcoal had spread around and became almost unrecognizable. The ones made with normal pencils had remained somewhat intact. That wasn't what truly caught this mystical creature's attention. Instead, it was a photo glued on the inside of the books cover. It displayed a woman with light blonde hair wearing clothes very foreign to Tyviel. The woman in the picture was smiling while holding a hand over her protuberant stomach.

"Artalion, have you ever seen such a thing?" She showed the picture to the centaur, whose brows furrowed in a similar way. "No, I've never seen such a detailed drawing."

"It's not- "Rosie started out saying. Stopping as the two heads turned her way. "It's not, a drawing it's a picture." "You know? One you take with a camera?" As the confused looks did not ease up. Rosie threw her hands up. "Of course, they don't know what a camera is. I'm in a magical land with centaurs and goat people. Why would they know technology?"

"You are not from this world, are you?" The faun said after a long pause. "Are you…a daughter of Eve?"

Primrose shifted on her spot again. "I don't even know what this place is… this shouldn't be possible at all. Yet I can't deny what's right in front of me." The panic was settling in, and her hands begun to shake.

"Artalion, give me the keys." The faun held her hand to the centaur. "But Ty- "He was quickly silenced by a mere sharp look. The keys to Primrose's shackles swiftly changing hands.

After the restraints had come off Rose stood up. Matching eye level with the elderly faun, whose expression was filled with many emotions.

"A child from another world has washed up on the shores of Cair Paravel in these distressing times…" Those words seemed to draw a reaction out of the centaur.

"The prophecy? This child?"

"Yes, I believe so." The now grumpier than ever centaur looked between the two others in the room. Eventually shaking his head and strutting over to the door.

"Believe in tales if you wish Tyviel. But those days of Aslan, Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve have long gone. I cannot rely on them. To keep our people safe." With a whisk of his tail, he left. Leaving Primrose in utmost confusion and Tyviel shaking her head.

"What is your name child?"

Rose furrowed her brows. "I'm fourteen, so I'm not that much of a child." She wrinkled her nose in displeasure. Her wet soggy clothes making her mood even worse.

"Primrose Wright from Birmingham." She introduced herself, even though she felt slightly insulted by being referred to a child so much." And if you wouldn't mind me asking. What are you?"

"I am a faun. Tyviel the steward of Cair Paravel, at your service." She made a small curtsy. Which was clumsily returned by the stocky girl. "And I'm guessing that I am in Cair Paravel right now." Prim asked carefully, still unsure of her safety, even though the shackles had come off.

"Yes, in one of the old servant houses, that has been turned into holding cells. Temporarily due to the war."

"Wait? You mentioned that before. There's a war going on here right now?" Primrose could hardly tell if she should believe the faun. "And where even is here? You mentioned something about telma-somethings and a prophecy?" Prim rapid fired questions, before being stopped by Tyviel.

"Calm yourself, my child. Come take a walk with me. And we shall see if we can spare you a change of clothes." With this the teens perturbed mind was calmed. A thought of dry clothes seemed very inviting.

As the two walked through the ominous but beautiful hall and finally exited outside. While she had been inside of that small dark room the sun had mostly gone down. Only a small sliver of light was left in the horizon.

Primrose could barely pay attention to Tyviel's words. As she admired the palace, its grounds, and the buildings around it. It was even more stunning close by. Somehow, she felt stronger here, much more awake than she'd been in a long time.

They got closer to the palace itself while Tyviel explained. "You are in Narnia, and we are its original inhabitants. Or what is left of us. Ever since the kings and queens of old disappeared our population has shrunk and driven to an ever-dwindling area. They think of us as savages. And that is what some of us have become" The faun said with much gravitas in her voice.

"The, telma- uh" She began trying to piece it all together.

"Yes, Telmarines and many others before them have attacked us. They intend to drive us into extinction. Taking our lands wasn't enough for them. Caspian, their king fears retaliation. What a fool." They stepped into a wide hallway. Filled with all different kinds of Narnians. Most bearing some signs of battle. Many of them turning to look at them. Tyviel gave them a calming nod, to assure that Rose wasn't a threat. This didn't stop them from giving her odd or even nasty looks.

The faun pressed a soft hand on the shivering teens shoulder "Come now. There is food and spare cl-"

"Telmarines are coming! The ships are almost here!" A shout so loud interrupted the faun and made Prim press her hands on her ears.

"Wait they're coming? Coming to do what?"


I hope whoever read this first chapter enjoyed it. These first few chapters will mostly be an intro and background to my OC.