Prompt #7: Tumnus, the Beavers, Aravis, Cor, Corin, someone else—write one or more reactions when they hear that the Pevensies are gone.
So… once trustingHim17 and I pick the prompts we're going to use, I try my absolute best to forget them, because I think that makes the writing challenge fairer. I can't make it completely fair, but I can try to level the field as much as I can.
As a result, I wrote an answer to this prompt in "Short Snippets" just a week or two ago, where Mr. Tumnus tells the Beavers. Sigh. Since I already wrote that, I went a very different direction with this prompt, one that trustingHim17 gave some help on. Thank you!
There are so many kingdoms.
So many chances to rule.
I have working plans ready for three—I already began to lay traps for the Giants. They would make valuable allies, if I decided their kingdom was not the one I wanted.
After all, it would be most unregal to own a kingdom where everything towered too tall to use. I am not ridiculous; I am a powerful Queen.
Or I would be.
But the one kingdom I wanted, more than any other—the one that insignificant witch had taken. She relied solely on her own brute strength and magic. She had no mind. Of course she lost her kingdom.
But those who took it—there were four. Too many, too strong, and protected by that Lion—
I could wait for it.
But till then, I did not know what I wanted. Galma was uninteresting; long days in the sun and the grating sand. The Long Islands were easy prey; even she had taken them. And they were now guarded by the Four.
I did not want the Giants. Or Galma, though I had an army of mermen enslaved to my will. Telmar proved a slightly more interesting challenge, but the men of the country were so preoccupied with fighting there would be eternal challenges to the throne.
What I wanted was Narnia.
Yet the Kings were always chosen, and no ruler could last in the Lion's country unless the Lion Himself chose the person.
Perhaps I should kill three and enslave the fourth to my will. The oldest—he already fought Giants on a regular basis. If the Giants owed me a favour—slipping some intelligent Giants into the battle against him, aiming just for him—he would fall.
The oldest Queen was the softest, the one most prone to fear and worry. She would be my choice to enslave. I would draw her in with promises of eternal beauty, eternal worship. If she followed me.
The younger King… his mercy would be his undoing. A traitor, caught once, repenting, informing on my troops, leading the King to them… I could sacrifice twenty men. The King, off guard after his victory, and the traitor with a knife…
Preferably a stone knife. Just for the poetic touch. A traitor stabbing a traitor with the means appointed to take a traitor's blood…
Yes. I like that.
The youngest one, I would merely need to wound a Narnian near one of her popular rides; she would rush to its defence, and be overwhelmed.
And yet.
No. No, there were too many loyal Narnians who would support the older Queen.
Patience. Patience. The Lion was too close to these four.
These four—
Wait.
Wait, what was this?
I had not felt this for years.
A door. A door was opening. A door to a different world, a door a girl had once come through.
Now—I could feel it. It would only open for the four, they must be there.
Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut them out; shut them back into their world; shut them away from me, shut—
The door shut.
I went to the end of my cave, stepping into the air of Narnia.
It had changed.
I drew it in, feeling my smile spread on my face.
Oh, I could still be patient. My plans were not done yet. To seize a country in chaos was to invite resistance. But I could begin my plans, waiting for a moment, a vulnerability—a chance to seize a king.
I went back into the cave.
I would need an army.
I would need a place for them.
I would need a kingdom, one I would not mind leaving, one the world could not touch.
When the world was sung into being, notes of the song spoke of life far from any other reach.
Perhaps it was time to start digging into the earth.