Disclaimer: .watashi no janai
Beta'd by trustingHim17, in the midst of writing her own plot bunnies, and I'm very grateful!
OOOOO
The cold, constant wind was a relief on Susan's aching cheek. Her sides still ached from where her carrier—Jumak's shadow, and Susan did not think better of him for that—gripped her till she bruised, and it only grew worse as she shivered. They had been flying for hours. Hours that grew worse as her imagination played to her fears.
Because they still didn't know why the Telar needed Edmund. Susan felt her heart clenching. They had lost Edmund so soon after coming to Narnia, and she feared, sometimes—oh, sometimes, that Narnia would be his end. She'd put it from her mind at the beginning of the flight, as the Telar fell into formation, extinguished their torches, and lifted off the ground with the beating of stone wings. They flew through the dark, above the growls once more, only this time a whoosh was added to the noise, and Susan realised the Fell were throwing stones. Then the daylight touched them, and the Telar had gone up, up, over the rocks of the mountain, into the sky—even above the clouds.
Once there, she'd heard Lucy's cheerful voice speaking with Sirrioth, asking him about his wings, how much energy it took to fly, and how much he liked flying. The rumbles of his answers were too low to catch, though Susan tried to distract herself by imagining the answers.. But as the hours slowly passed, even Lucy's voice ceased, and Susan knew her own captor would not speak to her unless necessary. He glared whenever she shifted, his fingers tightening. But she hurt. As time dragged on she made the choice again and again, as to which was worse, the bruising or the cramp? Or the worry for Edmund pulling at her heart?
The sun set, and the night grew colder; Susan's shiverings rubbed her arm raw where she was pushed against the stone. Still the Telar flew on. Finally Susan fell asleep.
She woke to sunshine and the sound of the Telars' voices. They were calling Peter, Lucy, and even Edmund's name (yes, she had noticed how few of the Telar could look at or speak to him, and it worried her), telling the children to wake, they were landing. Hers didn't bother, just gripping her again as he began to dive. Susan closed her eyes, hating this part, hating the way her stomach jumped to her mouth and the entire world screamed she was falling. But Lucy was laughing again, and Susan smiled involuntarily just before they landed. She opened her eyes.
The rest of the Telar had dispersed; only Sirrioth, her keeper, Edmund's carrier, and Juddahum, who held Peter, had landed on this—tree house? The place seemed full of very old trees with immense trunks, reaching out with sweeping branches, and so many open spaces between them. Spaces for the Telar to land, Susan realised. And running from branch to branch were sturdy wooden planks, set together to make a floor. Her Telar dropped her feet, and took his arm away from her waist a moment later, and every muscle in her legs cramped. She fell on her rear, holding her breath to keep the cry inside, and tried to stretch out her legs, begging the pain to stop. Gradually the muscles stopped twitching.
Susan looked around, running her fingers over the platform she sat on. Everything seemed made of wood, which took Susan by surprise, for it seemed out of place with a stone race. Only, she remembered, they haven't always been stone. This must have been what they loved before they were...changed? I wonder if they were changed, or if they were cursed?
The flap of wings drew her attention back to the four statues; they were leaving, all but Juddahum, who walked towards her. "Be wary of the sides, for you have no wings to catch you," he advised gruffly, and she blinked, before twisting to look behind her. Her bearer had set her right on the edge, with her back to it, she realised with pounding heart, and she scooted back. But once she knew she was far enough away, she peered over the edge, made curious by the brief glimpse she'd had.
They were at least four stories high. Below them other platforms spread out, stone statues dotting them like ants on a bitten apple; below them stood a city with no ladders, stairs, or connections between the levels—why would they be needed, among creatures that could fly? Just floors and floors, built around trees, with the trunks on the lower levels with houses around them. Susan and the others were resting on a street, a single house at one end.
"Oooohh!" Lucy exclaimed in wonder from right beside Susan, and Susan turned to see her siblings had come, their concerned looks fading as they peered over the edge. "If we can't fly, how do we get down there? Can we go down there?"
"The taller King and the Queens may go where they wish, as they wish, but our king stays here." The four turned and looked at Juddahum, but he did not meet their eyes, instead looking down at the city. "Behind you is a dwelling you may use for shelter, and Khonat will see that food is brought suitable for your kind; it has been long since we had living flesh here, and we are only slowly remembering those essentials. If we do not meet something you need, then tell Khonat."
"Thank you." Susan slowly got to her feet, Peter and Edmund's hands on her elbows and Lucy's arm around her waist. Juddahum nodded, and turned to leave.
"May I see your dwelling later?" Lucy piped up, and he paused turning the stone monkey head to look over his shoulder.
"Why?"
"I'd like to see what it's like. Only if you don't mind."
Juddahum turned and swept his wings forward in the Telar bow, inclining his head. "If that is your wish." Lucy smiled at him, arm still around Susan's waist, and Susan felt that arm suddenly clench as Juddahum let himself fall off the side. A moment later they heard the now-familiar sound of stone wings, and Susan patted the arm reassuringly.
"Well," Peter said after a few moments, "let's go explore our temporary new home." The Four turned, Peter leading the way once he was sure Susan was steady. Edmund stayed to support her, and Susan, knowing it was best to stretch her legs by walking, followed. She noted Peter's rumpled tunic, wrinkles creasing it from the stone arms that had held him. The tiny sign that things were not right bothered her.
But she forgot them a moment later as she walked through the large open space that must be a Telar door, though it towered over her. The outside wall curved, running around the interior to make a circle, and walls divide the circular dwelling into partitions, with a door on either side. They had entered a dining room, Susan guessed, though the table was at a height of her head, and Peter stood examining one of the large chairs.
"We won't fit very well," Lucy commented. What was large for Peter was giant for her.
"Can you even get up, Peter?" Edmund asked curiously, and Peter looked up at the seat higher than his waist.
"I can try." He grabbed the edge in both hands and hoisted himself up, waist first, leaning forward, and then swinging his legs over. A moment later he began coughing.
"I don't think they use these anymore!" he called down, and they heard him brushing at the chair with his arm. Wads of dust fell off it, and the other three stepped back.
"Oh, of course they wouldn't use a table, they're stone now," Lucy said thoughtfully. Peter's head appeared over the side of the chair. "The tabletop is rather weird; you should come up and see." Susan winced internally as she thought about climbing the chair's height, but if they were to get Edmund home, they'd need all the information they could gather.
But she still let Lucy climb up first, Edmund kneeling to let her step on his leg and Peter grabbing her arms and pulling her up. Edmund offered his hand to Susan next, and she stepped on his leg, reaching her other hand up to Peter.
The pull on her aching muscles, her bruises, hurt. She stopped breathing, stopped trying, stopped everything. When she blinked the water from her eyes a few seconds later, she was sitting on the chair, Peter's hand on her shoulder as he called her name, Lucy close by, and Edmund's head appearing over the edge.
"What's wrong, Su?" Peter's tone was quiet, authoritative, and Lucy's arm came back around her waist. Susan shoved it off; she couldn't stand the touch on her bruises right now. But she grabbed the hand she'd just flung away and placed it on her arm, a silent apology, as she gathered breath to answer.
"I'm cramped from the journey here, that's all. I'll be fine after some exercise." She looked up at Peter. He was frowning.
"You didn't stretch during the flight?"
"My Telar carriage did not appreciate me moving," Susan explained softly, and Peter's hand came up and very gently touched her bruised cheek.
"Did he do that as well?"
"He didn't like me trying to get to Lucy, back at Cair Paravel." She didn't mention her bruised ribs, though they probably guessed from her moving Lucy's gentle hand. That touch, that love, meant everything after the hard hands of her captor. She would be fine, now that it was just them. "I'll be alright. I'm much more worried about Edmund." They looked at him, and he flushed.
"Before we get into that," Peter interjected dryly, "I still say we should look at this tabletop." His hands were under Susan's arms moments later, lifting her to her feet before she could try it on her own. She smiled her thanks before turning towards the table.
And blinked.
She walked forward, right to the edge of the chair, putting one arm out to run her fingers across it. From the bottom the table had looked wood, a round top nailed to the top of one leg, but the top looked covered in feathers. Hard feathers, though they looked soft, like an Eagle's primaries, four times the size. They were unmovable, covered in a hard, clear surface, scattered over the table in a random not-pattern, sometimes two or more layered one place, sometimes a bit of wood showing through. "They're raised," Edmund realised, his hand running over them beside her, fingers trailing over the lines and quills so easy to feel. "As if the table was built and the feathers added later."
"They're just like Telar feathers," Lucy added, "only not stone," she finished quietly.
"A table a hundred years old, then," Peter finished quietly. "Probably to eat family dinner on."
"But they don't decorate with feathers," Susan protested, voicing her thought before she realised she was thinking it. "Look at the walls." She swept a hand at them, illustrating her point. The walls had a window on either side of the door, faded, darkened paintings of old trees, and a single portrait of a Telar on the inside wall. But there weren't any feathers. "It'd be as odd as us decorating with something like human hair." Lucy made a face.
"We don't know that," Edmund argued doubtfully.
"Let's go explore the rest of the house and we'll keep an eye out for feather decorations," Peter decided. He jumped off the chair, turning swiftly to help his sisters down. He tried to help Edmund too, but got a scowl for his trouble.
"I'm a captive, not disabled."
"Right," Peter agreed, holding up his hands, but still watching Edmund jump down with a careful eye. "Now, do we go right or left?"
"Right," Lucy suggested, and Peter headed that way. He opened the door, sticking his head through it cautiously. He walked in a moment later, and the other three followed into what was clearly a sleeping chamber.
Large logs resembling branches ran from wall to wall in a small obstacle course, and each had several round, level circles sanded into the top.* Dark, dusty curtains hung on every wall, the largest one embroidered with two large Telar silhouettes, and below them three smaller ones. Each figure had a word in an unknown language of their heads, and Susan was the first to notice the connection.
"It's a family tree. Two parents, three children, and look, there's five perches for them to sleep on." She walked over to examine the white thread, careful not to touch and shower herself with dust. "However did they manage such small stitches with such large hands? These are almost Mouse-like!"**
"Do stop, we can examine the decorations another time," Edmund broke in impatiently, and Susan quickly rejoined the group going through the next door. He was right, after all. So far nothing seemed helpful in figuring out why the Telar wanted a king.
Or why their children were still.
Or why anything.
The next room had a ring of five chairs of various sizes, one small enough for Peter to sit in and almost touch his toes to the floor. "That chair was too large," Edmund muttered, but Susan stood close enough to hear him, and almost laughed out loud, picturing Peter's hair longer and curly, and his face as that of a disobedient girl invading the home of three bears. The Telar were as big as bears-
Suddenly it wasn't funny. "Let's go on, there's nothing here." Even the curtains were plain, a repetitive pattern of white oak leaves embroidered over and over. Peter hopped down.
"A room to eat, a room to sleep, a room to talk as a family, that just leaves-" Peter opened the last door, "a room to cook."
This room crowded itself with furniture, pots big enough for Lucy to sit in (Susan shuddered), bowls the size of serving dishes, ashes in a stone oven, and there were utensils-
"Oh, leave the knives, it's not like they'll do any good against statues." Susan could hear the frustration in her tone from finding nothing to help, and tried to soften it. "Please. They don't hurt us if we don't fight, and there's no use fighting with weapons that won't hurt them."
Peter and Edmund glanced at each other, and set down the knives that reached from their elbows to their fingertips, and led the way back into the dining room they'd come from. The four looked at the enormous chairs and the rest of the room, and as one, they decided to sit and lean against the wall.
"So what now?" Susan asked Peter, who was to her right.
"Now we get the three of you home," Edmund demanded from her left. "Look, I don't know what they need me for, but I still say it was a bad idea to bring all four of us along, Peter." The tone of a King challenging a King, Susan thought, but she bit her lip. This was something they needed to settle.
"I know that; but if we'd let them take us home, we might never have found you again. Though I did not intend for all four of us to come," and he looked at the girls, but Susan calmly looked back at him. The boys got in far too much trouble when they were by themselves. They'd just picked up kitchen knives to fight stone statues three times their height. Just. "Anyway, it's done with. Our problem now is to find out what they want Edmund for. But we should start by figuring out where we are."
"West of the mountains, and out of Narnia, for starters." Edmund bit out, then sighed. "Sorry. I just really don't like this."
"How reluctant they are to tell us anything," Lucy agreed.
"Well, we'll just have to figure it out on our own then." The High King looked around the room, heading for the window. "We'll have to take a look around."
"And we need to look for more than just what's going on," Susan put in quietly. She wasn't sure how her siblings would take this. "I think we should also consider what we can do to help." The Kings gave each other a glance, each wearing a slight frown.
"I agree," Lucy leaned forward and looked from one to the other. "They're stone now, and something's wrong with their children." Both kings still didn't say anything. "You know you'd be doing it yourself if you weren't worried about us. But we can help, Peter. Let us."
"Very well," Peter sighed. "Yes, I've been thinking the same thing. But we need this to be clear, among all four of us. We will help if we can," Peter commanded. "But Narnia comes first, and Edmund. That's our first duty as Kings, Queens, and as brother and sisters." He looked at each sibling in turn, seeing Susan's quick nod, Edmund's grave agreement, and Lucy's understanding. "Then yes, we look for a way to help as well."
"Then I think Lucy and I should go exploring," Susan offered. Both boys began shaking their heads, but Susan interrupted. "They don't mean to hurt the two of us; they don't want us. They do want Edmund for something, so much so they said he can't explore and it's logical from him to be the one that you guard."
Peter gestured towards her bruise.
"That seems to be only Jumak's group," she disputed. "My carrier followed him like new pages follow Oreius. If we get Sirrioth and Juddahum, or perhaps even Khonat, if he can carry one of us with just one wing, we should be fine. Peter, let us help."
"We've gone off on our own before, the first battle in Narnia," Lucy offered, and Peter frowned.
"You were with Aslan, Lu. We're all unarmed, helpless, and captive. It's not wise to split up."
"Then we stay close," Susan compromised. "Not anywhere where we can't get back on our own."
"Peter, they really shouldn't-"
"Oh, do be quiet, everyone, and let me think."*** Peter got up and began pacing, around the table and chairs, one time, and a second, his siblings watching. At last, he halted.
"You can't sacrifice their safety on the hope of getting me out of trouble, Peter. You can't." Without looking Susan put her hand on Edmund's leg, but he shook it off.
"It's a balance of risk against reward, Ed. If they stay in sight of this house, and hide if any Telar appear—I mean it, both of you, we can't risk them being from Jumak's unpleasant group—they might find something, and Su pointed out the danger isn't that great to them."
"You hope," Edmund muttered, but he heaved himself to his feet and bowed to Peter. He turned and offered his hand to Susan, and she took his unspoken apology. He helped Lucy up as well, and took both their hands. "Be careful?" he asked both of them seriously.
"Promise," and Lucy threw her arms around his waist and squeezed.
"I promise," Susan echoed. She smiled at Peter and shooed Lucy out the door, a bit worried they might change their minds if they thought about it longer.
The street outside—though Susan did not feel it deserved the name, with the lack of railings, lack of warning of the edges, and the sheer height of its wooden stretch—did not hold any Telar. The wooden planks stretched from the dwelling they'd just left to the base of the next tree, perhaps two hundred paces away. Both sisters started forward, though Susan glanced back after a few paces.
"We can always get back," Lucy pointed out, noticing.
"This seemed like a much better idea inside."
"It was a good idea, truly. We'll just go to the next tree, and listen before going around." Lucy slipped her hand into Susan's, and together they went to the next tree trunk.
Susan peered around one side, surprised to see no dwelling. But she ducked her head back a moment later, hiding beneath the trunk larger than three pillars put together. Lucy looked at her curiously, and Susan mouthed "Telar." The two girls froze, trying to breathe quietly, and listened.
There was no sound. Not the stomp of wooden feet, the creaking of wood under great weight, the snap of wings, the gravelly voices, or even the sound of breathing.**** Susan carefully ducked her head around again.
The Telar didn't move. She straightened—Peter would yell at her for this if he knew—and edged out. Still none of the stone figures turned their heads, or noticed her at all. She edged further—she was halfway out—she was two-thirds—she stood all the way out—and the Telar still hadn't altered. All five rested their wings on their backs, their heads slightly bent, their eyes on the ground.
"I wonder if that's what they meant by being 'still,'" Lucy whispered, and Susan yelped, whirling and grabbing her sister.
"Lucy!" she gasped, panting, one hand over her heart and the other gripping Lucy's arm. "Don't do that!" she added, trying to calm her breathing. She stiffened, glancing back at the Telar, who were still as statue-like as any non-living carved figure.
"Sorry." Lucy's apology was only half-sincere, for her attention was wholly on the statues, and Susan let her go. Lucy reached out with one finger to touch the statues, but drew it back before she reached them. "I think we should get Peter first," she admitted, biting her lip, and Susan agreed, reaching for Lucy's hand again and leading her back to the dwelling.
It did not take long to describe what was happening, and Peter and Edmund both hurried out, Edmund pointing out he'd still be in sight of where he was supposed to stay when Susan began to object, but he was out the door by the time he finished, and Susan knew there was no holding him back. She hurried after him, noting with an inward roll of her eyes that both boys had kitchen knives stuck through their belts under their tunics. Hopefully, the Telar wouldn't know enough about human clothing to notice.
They reached the large tree in a matter of moments and walked slowly around it, the boys in the lead. The Kings walked around the statues, examining them from each side without touching them.
"Do you think they're sleeping?" Peter asked in an undertone, and Susan shook her head.
"I may have yelled at Lucy, and they didn't wake."
"They're like the statues in the White Witch's courtyard," Edmund's strained voice pointed out, and Susan looked at his white face, and suddenly she was back there too, Aslan at her side, but all these queer, still, once-living creatures standing there, just—stone. And Edmund had not had Aslan there.
She moved to comfort him, but his attention had been caught by something farther down the wooden street, just under a large branch, and he hurried over. Susan hurried to catch up, watching his face.
He'd knelt, hands brushing over the pile of stone, and though he was frowning, his face wasn't as white. He's found something to occupy himself, Susan thought with relief.
"Look at this," Edmund said quietly, and the other three leaned over to see the stone he was turning over in his hands.
"That looks like-" Lucy began in an anxious voice.
"-stone feathers," Edmund finished grimly. He stood up and placed his hand on the branch over the pile. "And this is sanded, just like a Telar perch."
"You think a Telar landed there and-"
"Went statue-still, fell off the perch, and is now a pile of rock," Edmund agreed with his brother.
"And he's not the only one." Peter's voice sounded weary, almost old. "Look over there." They looked to a street they could see from this angle, nearly the same height, and saw on it three more piles of crumbling rock. There was a brief silence. "At least now we know what the Telar problem is," Peter stated.
OOOOO
*Apparently most monkeys sleep sitting up.
**No, I do not know for a fact that the Narnian Mice actually sew (though it wouldn't surprise me), but I can't help thinking of Beatrix Potter's Tailor of Gloucester, and "No more twist!" and the tiny stitches that saved his career.
***I'm sorry if this argument was drawn out, I just don't see someone with common sense letting the group split up (I'm pretty sure that's how horror movies happen, though I've never actually watched one to find out), but I also don't see the girls sitting around waiting, and Susan makes good points. It was one of those "Susan has to win but I'm not sure how she's going to, oh look, that's how" things.
****I have no idea if stone Telar need to breathe; I know they did before, and were probably in such a habit they haven't given it up.
Response to Anonymousme: I'm afraid "soon" wasn't possible because of camping-without-electronics plans, but hopefully you still enjoyed! I had a reviewer suggest the perfect name for Silent, so that's solved as well. Thank you for reviewing!