THE FOLLOWING morning we break camp early, as promised. King Peter is the first to be up and about, followed by myself, thanks to my acute hearing. I have to prod Edmund awake as he sleeps like a log — much like Caspian, I realize. Lucy laughs and tells me it's normal, then proceeds to recount all the many times her brother's heavy sleeping was the cause of something hilarious. Nobody minds Lucy's excited storytelling; we're all glad for the entertainment as we gather our supplies and prepare for the long day's trek.
After a brief disagreement between Peter and Trumpkin that I make a point to avoid, the High King leads the way through the woods, heading south toward the Lost Rocks. Susan and Lucy follow close behind while I walk beside Edmund and Trumpkin brings up the rear. The dwarf doesn't seem very happy about the direction we're headed, and I assume that was the topic of his discussion with the King earlier. I don't address it. Instead, I give him space and happily make conversation with the Pevensies.
Mostly, it's just me and Edmund talking and laughing. Occasionally, Lucy joins in with a story or something of the sort, and Susan asks a question or adds on to something someone said and everyone laughs. Other times, we hike in silence through the trees, listening to the whispering of the breeze through the leaves and the singing of birds and insects. I like the silence and the calm — it gives me an opportunity to appreciate the little things: like how the sun falls in beautiful, dappled patterns across the vibrant forest floor; how my whole chest feels incredibly warm when Edmund bumps his shoulder against mine as we walk. Sometimes, he tries to trip me, instead and I elbow him in the ribs. They're like little reminders for both of us. I'm still here.
I like the silence and the calm, but I love talking to the Pevensie siblings. I love hearing about their lives and learning all the small details about each of them.
I ask Edmund all about his strange world and his family, whom I've come to know surprisingly well in such a short amount of time, and he asks about my life — growing up living two different lives in the Narnian forest and the Telmarine castle. He never seems to run out of exciting tales from the Golden Age, or a place they call England. And with everything he tells me, my curiosity and longing to know more grows like wildfire. Everything from the way he speaks to the sound of his laughter strikes a chord in my heart and makes me smile.
The light in his eyes and the excitement in his voice when he speaks about something he loves; the way he angles his body and walks with a lightness to his gait in favour of speaking with his hands; the way the sunlight brings out tiny freckles on his face and turns his irises this wonderful, golden brown colour. And what I love most is the warm, beautiful smile he gives me whenever I speak or laugh, like my voice is his favourite song.
Just outside of the confines of the Lost Rocks, we stop for a quick break at an apple tree Susan spots. While we pick and eat the fresh fruit, Lucy initiates a game called I Spy. I've never heard of it, but the principle seems simple enough: everyone guesses her chosen object based on the colour she reveals it to be. Edmund is shocked to hear I've never played before when I ask if my interpretation of the rules is correct. This piques the others' attention and Lucy excitedly explains the game to me and Trumpkin. I suspect the dwarf caught on just as quickly as I did, but we both listen patiently, then join in.
When Peter announces we should get going again, we gather our things and follow the High King into the winding maze of the massive, grey boulders that make up the Lost Rocks. The game continues a while longer until we run out of objects to guess, leaving us walking through the rocky, stone-walled path in echoing silence.
It's my first time seeing the Rocks, and I can't believe how wondrous it is. Of course, I've seen drawings and flown over the area a few times before, but never taken the time to explore and appreciate its strange beauty.
Bushy, green plants pop up between small cracks in the stone. In any space large enough, the twisting trunks of trees emerge, their thick roots snaking out of stone crevasses to wind across the uneven, rocky ground. The surprisingly hardy trees are scattered across the path we follow and stretch upward above the tops of the boulder walls, providing cover from the sun on our hike. Patches of moss in all shades of green grow in spongy layers on the faces of some rocks, creating miniature forests and ecosystems.
Edmund sidesteps a tree and curiously approaches a small bush growing close to the rock wall. Confused, I slow my pace as he quickly picks a handful of berries. Trumpkin raises an eyebrow but says nothing when the king returns to the group.
It only takes me a moment to identify the indigo blue berries cupped in Edmund's palm. "Those are eurichberries," I point out.
Edmund grins at me. "I know."
I narrow my eyes at that mischievous smile. What is he doing?
He picks up a single, inedible berry and raises it up to his eye. Then he hurls it at the back of Peter's head, missing by a few inches and hitting the rock wall instead.
I nearly choke on the air in my throat while Ed curses quietly and lifts another one. Immediately, Lucy and Susan spin around to find the source of the flying berry. Lucy giggles as she watches her brother line up a second shot while Susan rolls her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips.
Edmund misses again, and both of us tense when the High King turns his head toward the projectile, watching it bounce off a tree trunk ahead of him. I can hear Lucy trying not to laugh too loud.
Quickly, Edmund throws another berry. This one hits its mark and Peter whips his head around, his accusatory stare instantly falling on the boy beside me.
Laughing silently, he holds his hands up in surrender, causing the rest of the berries to fall to the ground. Peter shakes his head at his brother, a fond smile appearing on his face before he turns back around and disappears behind a bend in the path.
"You're an idiot," I laugh, one hand resting on my sword hilt as we navigate the rocks and towering boulders.
Edmund smirks and shoves me with his shoulder. "It made you laugh, didn't it?"
I roll my eyes. It did make me laugh.
"Besides, his head's the perfect target," he continues, as if his reasoning is completely logical. "I couldn't resist."
Huh.
When Edmund lifts his foot to take another step, I kick his heel so he trips, stumbling forward and catching himself on the nearest rock wall. When he looks over his shoulder at me questioningly, I just smile sweetly. "Oh, I couldn't resist," I repeat mockingly.
A wicked grin splits his face, and I know exactly what he's thinking.
"No," I declare sternly. "Do not–"
Edmund doesn't listen, and before I can react, he has his arms around me and I'm thrown over his shoulder. Five different ways to escape come to mind, but none that won't hurt him on the hazardous, rocky ground. And so, I bang my fist on the metal shield slung across his back instead.
"Don't make me shift," I threaten. "I'll put on seventy pounds."
"Ed, put the poor girl down," Susan says, sounding jaded. I hear Lucy giggle.
"First," he declares, "you have to promise you won't try to kill me again."
I scoff and hit his shield once more, even though he can hardly feel it. "No."
Trumpkin, who's walking behind us and has been watching the whole thing, actually cracks a tiny smile at the display.
Edmund chuckles and adjusts his grip on the back of my legs. "Good enough," he says, letting me back on my feet.
A relieved sigh slides past my lips and I smirk at the dark-haired king. "Thank you."
In return, he grins crookedly and shoves me with his shoulder. I shove him back.
"I don't remember this way," Susan says, unable to keep some of the scrutiny from her voice.
"That's the problem with girls," King Peter replies, glancing back at his sisters with a teasing smirk. "Can't carry a map in your heads."
"That's because our heads have something in them," Lucy retorts smartly.
I can't help but grin victoriously. That is my Queen.
Susan turns to her sister. "I wish he'd just listened to the DLF in the first place," she says.
Edmund frowns in confusion, climbing onto a tall boulder next to which an old tree grows. "DLF?" He repeats, shooting me a questioning look as if I might know the answer.
The two queens share a knowing grin. "Dear little friend," Lucy answers, the two of them following Peter while we hang back with an unimpressed Trumpkin.
"Oh, that's not at all patronizing, is it?" He says sarcastically, glancing at Edmund who's smiling down at him from his place atop the boulder. I have to smother my laughter so the dwarf doesn't hear me.
Edmund leaps from the rock, landing beside me and following his siblings around a bend in the path, only to find they've stopped.
Susan and Lucy stand just outside a small cavern, the former looking grim. Trumpkin is unconcerned and trudges right past them after the High King.
"I think we might be lost," Lucy explains, her voice low.
Susan purses her lips with a sigh. "I'm not surprised," she mumbles, turning to go after our companions.
I glance at Edmund, who looks equally as worried as his older sister. "This is going to go well," he muses, clearly being sarcastic. With a smile, we hurry after the girls and into the cavern, Trumpkin's voice echoing off the walls.
"–you're just going the wrong way."
Wonderful.
The four of us file inside the circular cavity, where Peter stares down at the red dwarf with barely concealed contempt.
"You last saw Caspian at the Shuddering Woods," he points out hotly, "and the quickest way there is to cross at the River Rush."
The Shuddering Woods?
"But unless I'm mistaken, there's no crossing in these parts," Trumpkin replies, his own annoyance much more well contained.
The High King's jaw clenches. "That explains it then: you're mistaken." He turns to continue on through a stone passage when I stop him.
"If I may, your majesty." I step further into the cavern, offering my support to Trumpkin.
Peter already looks fed up with the argument, and I immediately regret my decision to interfere. The last thing I want is to be on the High King of Narnia's bad side, but I can hardly retract now. Besides, Trumpkin is right.
"Caspian is long gone from the Shuddering Woods," I state, not an ounce of my timidity perceivable. "He should be at Dancing Lawn. And if he's not, I'm positive he's gone to the How."
Peter sighs and shrugs helplessly. "Well, we still have to cross, don't we?"
"Yes," I reply. "Just like we have to know where we're going."
From atop his rocky pedestal, Peter stares at me, his expression hard with anger and irritation. I stay rooted to my spot next to Trumpkin, any apprehension I had long replaced with quiet resentment. I almost want him to argue so I have a reason to put him in his place and prove how wrong his attitude is. But the High King turns and marches down the passage leading out of the cavern, back on his way to a crossing that doesn't exist.
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author's note
lol i love this scene in the movie
ok, anywho, i tend to write my stories day-for-day with hardly any time skips, but i'm pretty sure none of us want twenty chapters of the pevensies hiking across narnia lol so i did my best to graze over it, hopefully it wasn't too awkward or anything haha
also, did y'all not die when ed started throwing berries at peter lmfao i fcking love it