Sabra flitted between consciousness and unconsciousness, thanks to the bruises to her head from both her falls. She was dimly aware that she was seated on a horse and was supported by an arm around her. She leaned back on the rider's shoulder and for the first time since she had arrived in Narnia, she felt safe.
Sabra woke up feeling as if she had been thrown of a cliff and then picked up and thrown down another cliff. She stared at the peaked roof above her and slowly realised that she was in yet another tent. She tried to think but, ugh, even thinking hurt.
Why can't I be a Mary Sue like all the other girls who have fallen into magical worlds? she thought. Even though she had always bagged MarySues, she now came to see that if she were one, she would not have: 1) fallen out of the apple tree on her head, 2) gotten engaged to a lunatic whose dream was to kill Narnia's kings, and 3) been strung upside down by her heels.
"Ngh," Sabra said, testing out her verbal skills to see if they could still function. Nope, still not working.
Unbending the fingers of her right palm, she realised that she was still holding her amulet. Moving slowly as to avoid more aches and pains than necessary, Sabra fastened it around her neck. Beyond the curtains of the four-poster bed she lay on, she heard the slight rustle of feet, a dull thunk, and then the sound of water being poured into a basin. Then, after a little more rustling, everything was silent.
Something pushed her curtains aside. She turned her head (ow! ow! ow!) and saw that it was a tiger. Beyond it, there was a tub in the middle of the tent filled with hot water. She could see the steam rising from it.
"My lady," she said, bowing her head slightly, "My name is Kara and I shall be here to take care of your every need. The High King would like to meet with you as soon as you are ready".
Sabra sat up so suddenly, she swore she could hear all her muscles scream in protest. The High King? She ignored the pain and looked closely at Kara, who was already at the entrance of the tent, ushering in a dwarf holding a tray piled high with breakfast.
"Kara," she whispered. The tiger moved towards her. "Is this all a dream?"
"According to my experience, my lady," she said, "If it hurts, then it isn't a dream. I will leave you to your bath and breakfast."
"Kara," she called the tiger back, "My name is Sabra."
"My lady." Kara backed out of the tent.
Sabra stripped and climbed carefully into the scalding water. The heat of it seemed to melt away all her pain and worries. Someone had also placed wildflowers in the hot water, which made the scent of the flowers fill the tent. She breathed in deeply, closed her eyes, and submerged her head underwater. Only when she had no breath left did she resurface.
She climbed out, dried herself with a towel, and put on the clothes that were left for her. It was a beautiful silken dress, so soft it seemed to flow like water; the colour was a beautiful burgundy and it was embroidered with an intricate leaf design. Much better than that monstrosity Servos had given her to wear. There was also a comb and a silver disk laid out for her. Sabra combed out her long, wet hair, slowly, and then picked up the silver disk to look at herself.
She gasped, almost dropping the mirror. She almost couldn't recognize herself; the huge zit she had managed to conceal all that week had simply disappeared and her face just seemed... different. Calmer, more tranquil and somehow more composed. Perhaps it was the inevitable Mary Sue-dom working its magic. Finally.
Sabra picked up a piece of fruit from a bowl on the tray and started eating it. She tried to compose her thoughts since she was going to meet Peter in a short while. It didn't work but it never had before, so she didn't fret about it. Maybe her Mary Sue powers hadn't fully grown yet. If she had any. Before she noticed, she had finished the bowl of fruit and some kind of invisible force was propelling her towards the entrance of her tent. Kara was waiting for her.
"Follow me, my lady," she said softly.
Sabra did as she was told; feeling nervous, elated and a little scared all at the same time. She could hear noises coming from the main part of the camp but Kara steered her away from it and they did not meet anyone. They reached another tent and Kara paused outside. Sabra swept pass her and entered the pavilion. The two men inside stood up when she came in.
Sabra stifled a gasp. Peter and Edmund. They looked slightly older than when they had battled the white witch, but still, she could recognize them. She greeted them solemnly and took a seat at the table they were sitting at before she had come in.
"Lady Sabra," Edmund said, "Welcome to Narnia."
"Tell us," Peter continued, "Where do you come from and what brings you here?"
Sabra took a deep breath and launched into a detailed account of what had happened during the past two days. The kings remained silent, listening to her story with full attention. They didn't even flinch when she told them of Servos' desire to slit their throats. Only when she was finished did they start to ask questions, like how many men Servos had and did he let slip when he was planning to attack. She told them that she was kept away from the rest of the camp and that Servos was careful enough not to tell her anything besides her fate.
"What I want to know is how he could mistake you for Lucy?" Peter mused, "You two look nothing alike, and although Lucy has grown up, it is still obvious that you are closer to my age than hers."
"Well," Edmund cut in, "He has never seen Lu before has he?"
"I have a few questions, myself," Sabra interrupted, "What am I going to do here?"
"Forgive us, lady," Edmund apologized.
"Aslan's will has not yet become clear," Peter said, "Maybe you should stay with the camp and then return with us to Cair Paravel until then."
Sabra nodded. There really nothing she could do until then. Nevertheless, what about her date with Ryan Dellmar? Peter must have seen her expression because he asked what was wrong. She just shook her head.
"Perhaps you would like to ride for awhile to clear your mind?" Edmund suggested.
"Splendid idea, Edmund," Peter exclaimed, " But first, I think you should send a message to Susan and Lucy at the Lonely Isles and tell them to return home immediately, just in case Servos realizes that Sabra really isn't Lucy."
Edmund nodded and left without delay. Peter led Sabra outside. Kara was sitting just a stone's throw away from the tent entrance. The tigress stood and approached them.
"Kara," Peter said, "Could you get Lady Sabra a pair of boots, please, while I go find her a horse."
Kara nodded and Sabra left with her. She was led back to her tent and Kara left to find her a pair. Soon, a dwarf returned with a pair, handed them to her, bowed, and then left. She tugged them on quickly and went back outside. This time Kara led her to a small clearing where Edmund and Peter were already waiting for her. Peter led a tall, dark, dapple-grey stallion towards her and introduced him as Andrew.
Sabra mounted Andrew and soon the six of them were off into the woods. It felt good to sit on a horse again, as the last time she had ridden one was last year, on her grandfather's estate. . The sun shone on Andrew's coat and it seemed to shimmer like mercury- such a beautiful sight. With a gentle nudge of her heels, he moved into the most graceful and smooth trot she had ever ridden.
After a few minutes, it seemed that Andrew wasn't happy at just a canter. With a whinny and a toss of his head, he broke into a gallop. The kings laughed and gave chase. Sabra wasn't a world-class rider and in her state, she hadn't the strength to grip the horse and as a result her brains jolted in the head. Trees flew by in a blur as he dodged through the forest at an incredible pace.
"Stop!" she screamed.
Andrew slowed down. Edmund and Peter caught up with her as Andrew apologized profusely for doing what he did, not knowing that she was not in a state to go too fast. Sabra was about to stop him from apologizing even further when they heard the blare of a horn. Both kings looked up immediately. Edmund and his horse, Philip, turned around and headed back for the camp. Peter echoed his movements but shouted to her to stay put and that she was not to return to the camp until he came to get her.
As soon as Peter was out of sight, Sabra nudged Andrew with her heel.
"Let's go, Andrew," she urged.
"But lady," Andrew protested, "the king said—"
"Look Andrew, I have never obeyed anyone's orders and I do not intend to start now. If you do not take me, I will walk."
"But you are too weak to get into a fight, Lady," Andrew reasoned.
"Just take me to the fringes of the camp, Andrew, and I won't get into any fights," Sabra lied.
"Very well."
It took them longer to reach the camp on the way back, the reason being that Andrew insisted on going at a trot because of her weakened state. Sabra dismounted and walked stealthily towards the camp, ignoring a disapproving whinny from Andrew.
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A/N: Thankies for all the lovely reviews (throws flowers and such) If anyone wants to be Edmund's love interest, please let me know. Child of the Seine has already offered, but i thought it would be nice to ask anyway. If anyone has any suggestions I'm wide open.
