"I THINK that went well," Edmund says sarcastically. With an irritated sigh, Queen Susan rolls her eyes and goes after the High King, severely unimpressed by his earlier display.

Lucy sighs and looks between me and Trumpkin, an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, shoulders shrugging helplessly.

"Don't worry about it," I say reassuringly. Trumpkin, ever full of surprises, smiles at the young Queen and inclines his head. Ever so slightly, her smile widens and she follows in Susan's footsteps. The dwarf then politely gestures for me and Edmund to go on ahead of him. And so, our company resumes its trek through the winding canyons of the Lost Rocks.

Like Lucy had, Edmund apologizes for Peter's behaviour. I want to tell him his brother is an ass, but think better of it and swallow my annoyance, though I'm positive he read the displeasure in my eyes anyway.

It isn't long until we at last leave the maze-like confinements of the Lost Rocks behind us, trading treacherous, sloping stone paths for mossy grass and greenery. Despite my toughened, calloused feet, I'm relieved to be walking on the soft ground once again. Edmund must notice this, because he brushes his shoulder against mine and asks in a teasing voice if I'd like for him to carry me.

I grin and push him away. "Thank you," I muse, "but I'll manage."

"Do you hear that?" Lucy asks, causing everyone to stop and listen.

"Water," I answer, my ears picking up the distant sound of a rushing stream.

Excited, Lucy begins walking again with newfound energy, followed by the rest of her siblings. I'm almost positive there's a ravine up ahead, and for once I pray that I'm wrong.

The sound of the flowing water grows louder until finally, the trees break and Peter, Susan and Lucy come to a stop, staring down into a crevasse in the earth. All the hope the siblings have is washed away with the appearance of the gorge.

"You see," Susan begins, "over time, water erodes the earth's soil; carving deep into the–"

"Oh, shut up."

Edmund looks down at Trumpkin, who stands beside him wearing his ever-present frown. "Is there a way down?"

"Yeah," the dwarf replies sardonically, "falling."

Peter and his sisters turn away from the ravine. "Well we weren't lost," he clarifies in an attempt to maintain some dignity. I feel some pity for the king, who's clearly having a hard time believing how long they've been gone — how much Narnia has changed.

"There's a ford near Beruna," Trumpkin offers. "How do you feel about swimming?"

Beruna?

The three eldest siblings turn to head downriver while Lucy remains with her gaze trained across the gorge.

"Rather that than walking," Susan mutters.

I frown. "Wait a minute, that place is–"

Lucy's soft voice interrupts me. "Aslan? It's Aslan!" She cries, whirling around with a delighted, toothy smile, one hand raised to point across the gorge. Everyone stops in shock. "It's Aslan over there!"

Trying not to feel too hopeful, I follow her finger, finding there's nothing but trees and moss on the other side.

"Don't you see? He's right..." She falls silent, her own eyes taking in the deserted wood, scanning the trees and the shrubs for any sign of the golden mane of myth. The sudden shift from excitement to devastation feels like being thrown into a frigid river.

"Do you see him now?"

I turn my gaze on Trumpkin, upset by his lack of consideration. Clearly, this is a situation in which the queen is earnestly certain. The conviction and enthusiasm in her voice nearly had me convinced.

"I'm not crazy," Lucy insists vehemently, turning to Peter hopefully. "He was there — he wanted us to follow him."

Susan and I exchange grim expressions, knowing full well what he'll say is exactly what we're all thinking. Her imagination simply showed her what she wanted to see.

"I'm sure there are any number of lions in this wood," the High King says softly, "just like that bear."

I know for a fact that there aren't, and I'm sure everyone else knows this just as well, but we stay silent.

Growing indignant, Queen Lucy stands her ground. "I think I know Aslan when I see him."

"Look," Trumpkin pipes up, "I'm not about to jump off a cliff after someone who doesn't exist," he declares, sounding apologetic toward the young queen.

"The last time I didn't believe Lucy," Edmund says, "I ended up looking pretty stupid."

Grateful, the little brunette tilts her head and smiles slightly while Peter's face is set in an unimpressed scowl.

I'm reluctant to step into the debate, but I can hardly sit by and listen any longer while Lucy silently pleas for everyone to believe her. "I can fly us across, your highness."

Her face lights up hopefully from my offer. Edmund, who's quite aware of my lack of faith in Aslan's existence, brushes his fingertips against mine in unspoken gratitude.

The High King shakes his head solemnly. "I'm sorry," he says, "but I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not." I begin unbuckling my sword belt. "I'm volunteering."

But Peter's smart and observant, and, as a result, recognizes how taxing my transformations are. And he's not the sort of king who turns a blind eye to someone in distress. "I can't let you hurt yourself when there's a safer crossing we could use."

I, however, am not the sort of person who neglects one's duty. "That crossing is infested with Telmarine soldiers," I explain, handing my sword to Edmund. "I heard all about it from the lords: they're building a bridge. And now that they're expecting a war, every capable hand in the palace will be there working to get it done. It'll be near impossible to cross without being seen."

Not to mention those terrible machines Miraz commissioned to have built.

"If the Telmarines are there in numbers, crossing here would be the better option." Trumpkin inclines his head to me. "So long as you're willing."

Susan comes up next to Peter. "I think we should listen to them," she says.

The eldest Pevensie sighs through his nose and turns around, taking in the land across the gorge in thoughtful silence before turning to Lucy. "Where exactly do you think you saw Aslan?"

The younger girl frowns in annoyance, her eyebrows pulling together. "I didn't think I saw him, I did see him," she retorts. I can't help but smile at that.

The five of us watch her navigate the precipice carefully, retracing her footsteps and keeping her blue eyes locked on a spot on the other side. "It was right over..." Something cracks and snaps and with a terrified scream, the earth beneath Lucy's feet crumbles away and she disappears.

Susan shouts her sister's name and we all rush after her. No more than three feet below us is a stone ledge sheltered by a roof of soil maintained by the roots of nearby trees. And from that ledge, Lucy smiles up at us with a triumphant I told you so look on her face.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack," Susan breathes.

Laughing at his sister's remark, Peter climbs down onto the ledge next to Lucy. "Right then." He looks up, fixing the rest of us with a grin. "Who's next?"

━━━༻❁༺━━━

I protest, of course. In fact, I insist on carrying each of them across the ravine and saving ourselves an indefinite amount of time. However, my arguments fall on deaf ears. Those wonderfully sweet Pevensies refuse to allow me to shift, especially so soon after I've been healed. And so, we're left to hike down the sheer wall of the ravine, following what seems to be a path carved right into the stone cliffside.

Lucy and Trumpkin navigate the trail at the front, leading us down the treacherous, rocky slope. Behind them are Susan, Edmund, me, then Peter at the rear. It calms my nerves slightly to be at the back of the group, as I can see everyone in case they're to fall. Though the path, despite having occasional spots of water and algae, is quite safe, much to my surprise. It even provides shade from the beating sun — the air around us growing cooler the closer we get to the flowing river below. The path gradually widens as well, until we reach the bottom of the gorge where the river isn't nearly as rushed and dangerous. Here, we make our crossing — treading carefully on the smooth, flat stones beneath the biting cold river water to reach the other side. And here, where two can walk across safely without the threat of falling, Peter approaches me.

"Arryn?"

I slow down, trying not to let my astonishment show when I glance over my shoulder at him. "Yes, your majesty?"

The High King matches pace with me as we walk along the narrow length of the shore, toward a path that snakes upward along the rocky ravine and takes us back the way we came, this time on the right side.

"I want to apologize for the way I acted earlier," he says.

"Me too," I admit with a sigh. "I had no reason to be so churlish; I'm sorry."

Peter stares at me incredulously. "I quite deserved your 'churlishness,'" he laughs. "I might be a king, but I'm certainly not above decency. Will you forgive me?" His blue eyes are earnest and shine hopefully, bearing a striking resemblance to his youngest sister.

I can't help but smile. "Of course, your majesty."

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author's note

so peter is like a huge jerk for majority of the movie and i understand why but i'm not a huge fan of it lol. don't worry, i'm not going to change him, i'm just trying to include scenes where he isn't a total douche canoe and actually shows his kind/thoughtful nature. to me, it just seemed like a peter thing to do for him to apologize. but let me know if y'all think otherwise (and why) because i want to make sure i don't change any of the characters' personalities!

fun fact! the gorge scenes were actually filmed at two completely different locations in two completely different ravines. the one the pevensies stand at the top of is not the same as the one they're seen walking in!

don't forget to leave a review if you're enjoying chimæra!