Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia. Just the OCs I have created.


Entwined Arrows

~Chapter Three~

I Have Finally Gone To Lalaland


Annie, a familiar voice calls, sounding far away. Wake up, Annie...

I try to comply to the voice's request, but no avail. My eyes don't want to cooperate and my body feels alarmingly heaving as in I can't move a muscle.

Please, Annie...

I'm trying, I shout silently. Who are you?

Annie, you know who I am..., the voice calls, slowly fading away into an echo. You know who I am...

No, wait! C-come back! Come back!

My eye lids fly open and I sit up abruptly. An immensely bright light temporarily blinds me while I violently cough up sea water. I moan as I greedily breathe in gulps of air, each breath that goes down my raw throat burning severely.

I'm disoriented and afraid, unaware of where I am. Gathering myself as best as I can, I struggle to my feet, but find that I'm immensely tired and I'm only able to rise to my hands and knees. I don't think much about it as I begin to crawl forward at a sluggish pace.

While I'm crawling, I contemplate where I am. I am at an eerily quiet, deserted beach. No one else appears to be here, I notice with bemusement. I don't get far before my vision suddenly blurs and my arms and legs buck underneath me, sending my tired body crashing into the sand. I groan, spit sand out of my mouth, and raise my head. My body is finally voicing how exhausted it is to my brain. I don't fight it. As darkness begins to invade my vision, I can here frantic voices and the sound of pounding footsteps.

~.~.~

Voices and faces penetrate the darkness, long enough for me to put bits and pieces together.

"Are you all right, Lady Annelise," Peter calls, his voice echoing as if we were in a canyon. "Does anything hurt?"

"Yes," I respond in a disorientated voice.

"Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Y-yes..."

I am aware that I am responding to his questions. However, I am unaware of the time. It seems that his voice and face, along with the voices and faces of others are fading in and out of my conscious

"Oh, dear! What happened," a feminine voice gasps. I catch a brief glance of the astonished face of a female beaver peering up at me.

Is someone holding me, I wonder briefly.

"I rescued her," Peter says. "If you'll excuse me, Mrs. Beaver..."

Again the voices and faces fade, and I'm unaware of the time and of my surroundings. I'm unsure of how long it has been when I hear just voices this time.

"Where did you find her," an unfamiliar male voice asks.

"At the beach."

"I hope she's okay," a feminine, concerned voice murmurs.

"She'll be fine. The healer said she is only sleeping due to over exhaustion."

"Where do you suppose she is from," a second feminine voice chirps.

"I say Archenland! She has the fair complexion and the colored eyes to prove it! Maybe a relative of King Lune's?"

"I don't think so... I mean she is wearing rather strange clothes. Plus, she was talking with an unfamiliar accent. I don't believe I've ever heard it before," Peter muses.

"What about the Lone Islands? Galma to be specific."

"It doesn't matter where she's from. What matters is that she gets better, Ed."

"I know that, Sue. Peter and I are just curious where she could have come from," Ed reasons.

"Well, maybe Aslan send her here from our world!"

"I don't know, Lu... I'm sure Aslan would have given us a fair warning at the very least."

"That's the thing about Aslan, Peter, he works in mysterious ways," Lu protests.

"She could be on to something, Pete," Ed says.

"Whether this is Aslan's doing or not, I think it's for the best if we leave her to rest. She can probably hear us arguing like children rather than the Kings and Queens we are supposed to be," Sue replies.

"I agree with Sue. If you guys will excuse me, I have paper work that is waiting for me," Peter tells them, a sulky tone underlying his voice.

That's the last I hear of the voices before the last of my consciousness slips through my fingers.

~.~.~

I wake up abruptly on a soft, huge bed, my heart pounding. The room I'm in is dark and foreign. The sky outside the open balcony door is a pretty hue of pink, yellow, red, and purple. A cool breeze blows inside.

I have absolutely no idea what time it is. Maybe dawn? My memory is foggy. I can't remember much – all I've got is waking up on a beach.

What day is it? How long have I been here? And most importantly, where am I?

The room is eerily quiet. I hone in on the silence, tuning in my ears for noise. I'm met with more silence that makes makes me grow restless.

Realizing that I am in a foreign place that I have no recollection of how I got here, I start to panic. This is most definitely not my room! I scramble clumsily out of bed, ignoring the way my head spins and the way my sore legs protest. I proceed cautiously to the door, open it gently, and look into the thankfully empty corridor. I pick right and walk swiftly down the corridor as silently as I can. My eyes vigilantly look everywhere for signs of unwanted company.

~.~.~

High King Peter and King Edmund are in a meeting with their counsel, discussing the importance of opening trade with more kingdoms when their discussion is interrupted by the unexpected presence of Mr. Tumnus. As Mr. Tumnus whispers urgently into Peter's ear, all talking stops. Peter's facial expression changes drastically as he locks eyes with Edmund.

Peter raises to his feet, causing everyone to follow in his wake. "This meeting is adjourned until tomorrow, gentlemen," Peter announces abruptly in a no nonsense voice. The lords don't say anything as they walk out the room. Once the room is vacant of the lords, Peter rounds on Mr. Tumnus.

"What do you mean her room is empty," Peter demands.

"Well, I—I," Mr Tumnus splutters.

"The better question is how long has she been missing," Edmund inquires, shooting Peter a questioning look at his unexpected outburst.

"About half an hour, my lords," Mr. Tumnus says nervously.

Peter sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"I'm sure she couldn't have gone far," Edmund says reassuringly. "She doesn't even know the layout of the Castle."

Peter groans. "We should start searching for her then."

"All taken care of, your highness," Mr. Tumnus proclaims proudly. "Marrok and his men are searching for her as we speak. I thought—"

"Marrok and her men are searching for her?" At Tumnus's hesitant nod, Peter swears loudly.

"And that's a problem why," Edmund asks in confusion. "Peter, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't Marrok the most indicated to track her down? I'm sure with their keen sense of smell; they have probably already found her."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Peter groans. "They talk!"

"And?"

"And if you were to wake up for the first time in Narnia, how would you react to a talking wolf?"

"Oh... Bloody hell... That is a problem," Edmund grouses. "Where should we start?"

Peter sighs. "We should first find out if Marrok has had any luck with the search."

~.~.~

I'm unaware of how long I have been ambling down these corridors. All I know that I must be on the first level because I walked down a flight of stairs. I'm not sure whether it's luck or not, but I have been able to avoid being caught by hiding in dark corridor whenever I had heard footsteps.

It appears my luck has suddenly run out because rapid sounds of what sound like paws alert me of the fact that I'm being followed. I gasp, breaking into a sprint. I dodge surprised maids and make sudden turns in order to lose my pursuers. Seeing a pair of doors up ahead, I open them and scramble inside, heart pounding and legs shaking violently.

My eyes scan my surroundings briskly, finding that I've stumbled upon a dead end. I gasp as I hear steps getting closer. Desperately searching for a getaway, I spy a window and sprint towards it in hopes of escaping my captors. Once I reach it, I try to jump up in order to get a grip of the window sill but no avail.

"No," I cry with frustration, trying all the more harder to reach the window sill but falling short of a foot. Angry tears slide down my cheeks as my captors dart into the room.

I choke back a sob, turning around slowly to face my captors. Four wolves block the door, slowly advancing on me. I gulp fearfully and press myself as tight as I can against the stone wall.

I swallow hard. "St-stay away, you stupid animals! Come any closer and I'll knock you into next wuh-week," I threaten pathetically, shaky fists raised.

One of the wolves, a dark grey one, leans towards me, his lips curled away from his teeth and the hairs on his back raised.

"Who are you calling 'stupid animal,' girl," he snarls, not bark.

I gape at him flabbergasted. My eyes go alarmingly wide and my mouth hangs open as I stutter incoherently.

"Calm down, Fenris" the black wolf barks at the grey wolf. "She didn't mean it."

"I think she's broken," the cinnamon colored she-wolf whispers loudly to the chocolate brown wolf.

The chocolate brown wolf snorts and rolls his eyes.

The black wolf takes a step forward. "It's alright, Lady Annelise. I'm not going to harm you," he whimpers reassuringly.

"No," I sob. "St-stay away from me!" I tremble.

The black wolf sighs, backing up. I watch them nervously. I'm unaware of how long I have been staring at them when two humans and a faun rush into the room, panting.

Déjà vu engulfs me when I lock eyes with a familiar blond haired young man. I stare at him in confusion, contemplating where I saw him. I suddenly get flashbacks about the wolves cornering me on a cliff and the blond haired man saving me from drowning.

He walks slowly towards me. "Hey, it's alright, Lady Annelise. I'm not going to hurt you. It's me Peter Pevensie. Do you remember me," he asks gently.

I breathe a shuddering gasp before impulsively throwing my arms around his neck, trembling. He stiffens briefly in shock before reassuringly hugging me back. I relish in the comforting warmth of his arms around me and his soothing words.

"Make them go away," I plead quietly. "Please!"

"Of course" Peter assures before he addresses everyone else in the room. "I would appreciate it if everyone would leave us now. Edmund, please go get Hastings and bring him here."

Everyone leaves without any protests while Peter continues to comfort me. After a while he pulls away and holds me at an arm's length, eyes searching my face and form for any injuries. I gulp nervously, playing with my hands as I peer up at him from under my eyelashes.

He lets me go suddenly, turns away, clears his throat, and proceeds to take off his cloak.

"Wuh—" I start to say before he cuts me off.

"I would appreciate it if you wore this," he murmurs, handing me his cloak without looking at me.

I take it with confusion, wondering why he would hand me his cloak while refusing to look at me. It suddenly dawns at me as I glance down at the cloak in my hands and at my clothes. I'm wearing a night gown, which is a bit on the transparent side. Blushing deeply in embarrassment, I swiftly throw the cloak on and fasten it tightly. I had not realized how indecent and scandalous I had looked since I was just worried about getting out of here.

"Sorry about that," I mutter awkwardly.

He finally looks at me. "It's quite alright, Lady Annelise," he replies easily. His eyes scan the room and then look back at me. "Please, sit down. You must be exhausted." He inclines his head to one of four chairs that looks similar to that of a throne fit for a monarch. I wordlessly plop down on one, my shoulders sagging with exhaustion.

I bit my lip nervously, discreetly studying Peter Pevensie from the corner of my eye. He's standing ramrod straight, with his shoulders back and head held high. Authority radiates off him in waves.

The black-haired boy (probably Peter's brother since he looks like him) returns with a middle age man. I breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that he is human. After some probing and strict instructions to take it easy, I am left alone with Peter and Edmund, who are talking in urgent, barely audible voices. I catch pieces of their conversation every other sentence.

"...foreign."

"...doesn't belong!"

"...From our world!"

"...Accent!"

"Like the others!"

Where am I, I muse silently. Am I dreaming? If I am, then I want to wake up now!

Annelise! Annie! You know where I am. Come find me, Ann!

There it is again— his voice! I haven't heard his voice so clearly in a long time. It is as if he is actually standing next to me. My eye brows crease with confusion.

I'm snapped out of my train of thought by the opening of the doors. In gracefully stride two teenage girls, who bore a resemblance to Peter and Edmund.

They are siblings, I think immediately.

The oldest, perhaps around my age, catches my attention instantly simply because she is beautiful, with thick dark brown hair twisted elegantly into a complex style and her hourglass figure. Gentle blue eyes study me curiously.

The second girl, which appears to be around twelve or thirteen, smiles brilliantly at me, dimples showing and big brown eyes shining. I'm momentarily astonished, given that I barely met the girl. She tucks a reddish brown lock behind her ear before she bounds forward, stepping into my comfort zone.

"Well, hello! I'm Lucy and that's my sister Susan. You must be Annelise. It's so nice to finally meet you," Lucy speaks brightly.

"Likewise," I whisper uncomfortably.

Susan notices my discomfort, and comes to my rescue. "Lucy, that's enough," Susan says in a motherly tone, before she directs her attention to me.

At her words, Lucy backs up, shooting me a sheepish smile. I give Susan a grateful look, to which she nods her welcome.

Peter and Edmund stop talking and walk up to us. "Would you like to retreat to your room for some more rest," Peter asks gently.

"N-no, I want to know where I am," I say uneasily. "Am I in England?"

The four Pevensie siblings exchange looks before Peter sighs.

"You are in Narnia," Peter says unwillingly.

"Wuh-what," I gasp.

"You're no longer on Earth," Edmund replies.

I stand from my seat abruptly, my chest raising and falling rapidly. I shake my head in denial. A nervous laugh escapes my mouth as I glance at them suspiciously.

"Riiiight... Narnia... Gotcha! Really where am I? England? London? Hell, Finchley," I ask.

"You're in Narnia," Peter repeats insistently.

"Aha! I'm in some medieval fair, which would explain your weird 14 century getup," I explain, wrinkling my nose with distaste. "Seriously, guys, no one dresses up like that anymore. Hello, we are in the twenty-first century!"

"I think she has finally lost her mind," Edmund whispers loudly to Susan and Lucy.

"She's just tired," Lucy says defensively.

"Edmund," Susan says meaningfully.

I gasp dramatically at his words. I am not the crazy one here! They are!

"Maybe this is a conversation best left for another day, preferably when you are not tired," Peter speaks loudly in an attempt to get everyone's attention. However, no one is paying attention.

"What do we have to do to prove to you that you are in Narnia? Weren't the talking wolves and the faun enough evidence," Edmund says.

"She's in denial! It's perfectly normal for someone to resort to denial when they go through a traumatic experience. It's called a coping mechanism," Susan concludes rationally.

"Maybe showing her a picture of Aslan will help," Lucy chimes in.

"Everyone, please settle down," Peter calls out.

"Okay," I shout loudly, prompting everyone to shut up. "I just want to go home, alright? That's all I ask." I sigh miserably.

Peter smiles sadly at me. "I'm sorry, Lady Annelise, but I don't think the portals work that way."

The blood drains from my face as I start to come to terms with this not being a dream. Its reality and I don't like it!