It took me forever to get back into the mood to write... (That and I was going through a Lord of the Rings kick so switching gears was a little troublesome.) But, here you go.
Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.
Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid reading fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.
Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Leona's Story, the Guardian.
Dareena stared up at the castle of Cair Paravel, gleaming in the winter sun. She had just come to a monumental realization. She no longer wanted to sing. She had risked everything she cared about in a failed attempt to be the apprentice to the court bard of Narnia. She risked her family's displeasure, being left alone in a foreign country, and any other amount of danger along the way. But when the price was her family's lives, the cost was much too high. Her head told her to walk up the steps to the castle and ask for the court bard, Illone, and see if he would still take her on. Her heart looked back on the past couple of weeks and told her that it wasn't going to work. It felt as if her dreams were being handed to her on a platter, while someone yanked her world from beneath her feet when she reached for it. Intellectually, she knew that her family's death in a fire had nothing to do with her decision to leave and follow her dreams. But it still felt like fate forcing her to pay the price while never giving her what she was paying for.
People surrounding her on the streets started shooting her strange looks as she stood in the middle of the street looking up at the castle. Dareena noticed that she was drawing attention and quickly ducked into an alley to think.
Should she go, or not? She had gotten this far, why not go all the way? But, could she do it? Could she live the life of a musician, all the while feeling like her happiness was bought by fire and blood? Assuming she could even make herself sing anymore, who was to say that she would be able to meet the necessary standards to succeed? She opened her mouth to try to sing something, just to see if she could, but nothing came out. Her throat was still swollen from crying and a croak was the only sound her vocal cords could give her.
She knew that she couldn't go back to Archenland. Even if she would be able to swallow her pride and go crawling back, she didn't have anywhere to go. The only relative she had left was a brother-in-law that she didn't feel comfortable intruding upon. She sank down to sit on some old crates someone had piled in the alley and put her head in her hands.
All throughout her journey to Narnia she had obsessed over why she had lived when everyone else had died. She had often wished that she had died alongside them, but she lacked the true desperation needed to seriously consider taking those final steps to end her own life. Was it chance, destiny, or simply happenstance that she had left and thus was spared the fate that they suffered?
Her thoughts were still whirling around in her head when a caterwauling commotion started heading her way and she looked up. Four cats ran into the alley, one leading the way while the other three chased it. The three cats cornered their victim against a wall and a chorus of spitting and hissing came from the felines. Dareena poked her head over the bins to see the fight, but when she saw that the poor tom was likely to be killed by his foes, she couldn't sit back and do nothing. She quickly packed a couple of snowballs from a drift beside her and lobbed them at the attackers. With furious hisses and mrows the three cats darted out of the alley, leaving their victim backed up against the wall, fur standing on end and tail fluffed to the size of a chimney-sweep's brush.
The tom slowly realized his attackers had fled, his fur settling down and his fighting mood dying. Cautiously, Dareena reached out a hand to the cat, hoping to discover whether it was a tame pet or just a stray. Slowly, the cat reached out a nose and sniffed her, then sneezed violently and shook his head. Dareena laughed, for the first time in weeks, and reached to pick the cat up. He was ginger colored and good sized but not unusually large. His thick fur felt welcomingly warm on her cold hands. She petted him for a moment then asked, "I wonder if you need to be returned to someplace or if I can just let you go? I suppose, after saving you, I can't just abandon you to the cold."
In response the cat turned big green eyes up at her and positively begged. She laughed again. "I can't keep you! I don't even have a home let alone a place to keep a cat."
"Well then, what earthly good are you?" the cat replied in a tone of exasperation. Dareena jumped and nearly dropped him.
"You talk," she said, rather stupidly.
The cat simply looked at her condescendingly, every hair and whisker positively oozing the reply of, Now what ever could have given you that idea?
"We are in Narnia," the Cat said. "Haven't you ever heard of Talking Cats?"
Dareena bristled a little. "It wasn't my fault that I thought you were a normal cat. From what I know of Talking Animals none of them would just let themselves be cornered by three attackers and not call out for help!" She cocked her head a little, still looking at the feline in her arms. "Why didn't you call out, anyway? I think I have the right to know, having saved you and all."
The cat seemed to sag in her arms and heaved a sigh. "I do suppose I owe you an explanation. My name is Prowler, by the way, and I didn't call out because the last thing I want is to draw attention to myself. I'm rather in disgrace." Prowler looked downright embarrassed, if a cat can every truly appear embarrassed. "To be perfectly honest, I daren't show my face in public for fear of it being ripped off. So, I was pretending to be a dumb cat, and I was hoping to find some household that I could stay in until everything cooled down. Those louts found me first and thought I was intruding on their territory."
"What ever did you do to be in that much trouble?" Dareena asked, curious what the Cat possibly could have done to make him willing to masquerade as a lesser animal.
"Well," Prowler said, sheepishly. "I was a page at the castle, and I managed to break . . ." His voice trailed off and he muttered the last part of his sentence.
"I didn't hear you," she said.
Prowler shook his head miserably, and said again, louder. "I managed to break Queen Helen's mirror. The King was so angry he fired me, then he reported me to the leader of the Talking Cats, and he's so angry I'm afraid he'll kill me for 'bringing shame on all Talking Cats with my clumsiness.' I ran off before he could shout much more than that."
"Oh, my! I suppose breaking the queen's mirror is bad, but I'm sure she could find another one," Dareena said soothingly.
"No, no, no," Prowler said. "Not the queen's mirror, Queen Helen's mirror. As in the first queen of Narnia, Queen Helen! It was a priceless heirloom!"
"Oh," Dareena said, in an entirely different tone. "You're right, you had better hide. This isn't something that would cool down in a hurry."
"That's what I think too. Just so you know, the current queen's name is Cora. You are not from around here are you?" Prowler asked.
So Dareena told her new friend all about the events that brought her the alley. Prowler turned out to be a very good listener. She had expected him to do something, cat-ish, like lick himself or go poking into corners, but he sat on her lap and calmly listened to her tale.
"You know, I wonder why I was spared," she said, tears still clogging her eyes. "I need to believe that there is something I still need to do, that my being left all alone wasn't just Fate playing a cruel trick at my expense. But, I just don't know what it could be."
Prowler nuzzled her comfortingly. "Don't worry, you will find your purpose someday. No matter how terrible things seem, we are always between Aslan's paws."
She gave him a small smile. "Between Aslan's paws . . . Sometimes I wonder if Aslan hasn't forgotten about the other countries. Narnia has always been his favorite. Sometimes Archenland can go for centuries between his visits, and I don't recall a tale of his ever appearing in Calormen! Sometimes I wonder if he even still exists."
Prowler sat up straight in indignation and started to tell her exactly what he thought of that blasphemous comment, but stopped suddenly and stared down the alley. Dareena turned to see what caught his attention, and stared as well, her mouth open in shock.
An enormous golden Lion sat a few yards away, calmly blinking at them, making no threatening movements, yet still giving an aura of wildness. Then, with a suddenness that nearly took her breath away, her surroundings changed. It was like a dream where you go from one place to another without realizing it. Dareena was certain that her feet had not left the ground, yet the earth moved around them.
In the blink of an eye, it was just her, Prowler, and the Lion in the middle of a clearing. The alley was gone, all of Narnia was gone. Even winter was entirely absent there, as the ground was free of snow and the air was warm and pleasant. The wooden crate that she had been sitting upon didn't leave the alley, however, and she landed with a bump on the grass. Prowler leapt from her lap and she scuttled backwards, trying to get more space between herself and the Lion. She got her back against a large rock and sat staring at the Lion, who stared back.
"Me and my big mouth," she muttered.
Surprisingly enough, Prowler made the first move and cautiously walked up to the Lion. Seeming to somehow recognize him, the small Cat joyously started rubbing up against the large golden legs and purred until Dareena thought his neck would fall apart from the vibrations. The Lion laughed, confirming her belief that this was no ordinary Lion.
"You are a courageous little thing, aren't you!" the Lion said to Prowler.
"Oh, it really is you, Aslan," the Cat said through his purrs. "I've waited for this moment my whole life."
"Most people do," Aslan replied.
Then Aslan turned his gaze on Dareena. She had risen to her feet upon seeing Prowler's greeting to the Lion.
"Do you know why I have brought you here, Daughter of Eve?" Aslan asked her.
Dareena shook her head.
"I want you to work for me," he said, simply.
"What?" was her stunned response. She hadn't had the time to even guess what Aslan might say, but, even if she had, she never would have expected this. "What would you possibly need me for?"
"Sit, and I'll explain everything."
She slowly sank back down to the grass and Aslan settled back on his haunches. "I have found that I need someone to be my . . . hands for lack of a better term . . . in the world. I need someone to be in a certain place at a certain time to set events into motion. I need people willing to do things for me, go on missions, to take care of things that I can not or will not be able to do myself. Believe it or not, I am limited in what I will actively do when influencing events in the world. I have been using many different people in many different places to do what must be done, but it would be so much easier if I had one person willing to do anything I need and be anything I need."
"And you think that I could be that person?" Dareena asked rather skeptically.
Aslan nodded.
"Why me?" she asked, bluntly. She had quickly gotten over her initial fright, but found she simply didn't have the energy to be overly polite, even to a Lion.
"You have many of the qualities that I require. You are young and strong. You are pretty, but not overly beautiful unless you put effort into it, which will enable you to either stand out or blend in as needed. You are half Narnian, a quarter Archenlander, and a quarter Calormen, but you favor your Calormen grandfather, making you appear as a half-breed. This will get you entry into any of the three countries, and while you may not be particularly welcome, you are at least tolerated. You are most importantly a quick learner, and able to improvise to achieve your goal. You are rather emotionally detached from others, but not to the point where you are callous, which is good and will keep you from loosing your perspective. You are courageous and keep your head in a crisis, even enduring your family's deaths without letting it break your mind. " Aslan finished this recitation and looked to Dareena for a response.
"It seems rather strange that I'm so perfect for this job," Dareena said. "You forgot to mention that, as I have no family, there is no one to miss me should I be gone for years on end."
Aslan gave a soft snort. "You are hardly perfect for this. You're stubborn, willful and careless of others at times. You have a poor memory for anything other than songs. You are also mentally lazy unless someone forces you to think!" The Lion fixed an eye on Dareena warningly. "That will be remedied . . ."
Aslan continued, much to Dareena's increasing discomfort. "You have no experience with cities or politics and whilst you can read, write and figure, your talents in those areas are far from the best. However, you have much potential. You are willing to learn, if you are only given the teachers and the time. That brings me to another matter. To become everything I need will take decades, even centuries. There will be times when I will demand something of you that you will not be able to perform on your own. I promise you that you will be given everything you need to complete any task I set you to, but no amount of training will make you into a real warrior. You have no natural ability to fight magic with magic. You will need guidance to do what needs to be done at the correct time. It is at those times when you must set your own will aside and allow me to take over your body and give you everything you need. That is what will truly take time, because it is not in human nature to easily bend to another's will. I expect it to take centuries before you are truly comfortable with letting me in and out of your mind and body at will."
"There is only one problem with that," Dareena pointed out. "I'm mortal. I'm only likely to live another fifty years at most!"
"There is an apple, which when stolen only brings suffering, but when given . . ." Aslan moved his paw and Dareena saw an apple sitting on the ground by the Lion's feet. It was silver and almost glowed with its own inner light. "When given by one who has a right to pluck it, it will bestow immortality on the one who eats it. If you agree to do this, you will eat the apple."
Dareena looked at the apple, then at Aslan. "How does it work? Would I be still be able to be killed or will it just stop me from dying of old age? Will I still age physically and spend eternity old and infirm?"
"All the apple does is suspend time for you. You will not die of old age, though you still can be killed. It will make you immune to poison and anyone wishing to kill you will find it harder than anticipated. You will also stay the same physical age you are now." Aslan looked her in the eye. "Do not be deceived; immortality comes with a cost. You would have to watch friends grow old and die, and know that each time you become connected to someone this will happen."
"What exactly would I do? You said that you would send me on missions to do your will, but what would those entail, and how would I make sure that I was doing the right thing on those missions?" Dareena was interested in spite of herself, but there were far too many unanswered questions.
"Much of your work would be as a catalyst. You would introduce two people who need to meet. Eventually you will be sent to stop rebellions, or start them. At other times you will need to be at a crossroads to guide a hero on the right path, I may send you to rescue someone, or just protect a person or object. At times you will more closely resemble a spy. Ultimately, you help me guard this world and thus you would be known as the Guardian should I ever need to refer to you when talking to others." Aslan gave a little shrug. "As for how you will know if you are headed in the right direction, I will guide you. You will feel me in your head, nudging you to know my will. Consider yourself lucky; most must be content to understand my will on their own!"
"Will I always be on missions or will I have time of my own? What should I do then?"
"There will be many times when I will have no need of you," he said. "During those times you will do whatever you wish. However, I must warn you: during those times you will have no more claim on my attentions than anyone else. While on missions for me, I will do my utmost to ensure that you succeed. This protection will not be available during the times you are between missions. Do you understand?"
She nodded.
"You shall need an occupation," he said. "My personal suggestion would to become a traveling bard. You already have the voice and talent for it and the traveling will help hide the fact that you do not age. That will help you on your missions as well. A bard is the only person who would be welcomed equally in the lowest huts and the greatest palaces."
She looked uncomfortable. "I don't know if I can do that, sir," she said. "Ever since the fire, I haven't wanted to sing at all, and I'm not even sure if I can make myself do it!"
Aslan came to stand beside her and comfortingly nuzzled her hair. It felt like being wrapped in a warm embrace that never ended. "You will find your voice again, dear one, and will sing out all the more beautifully for its absence." The very feeling of comfort that he offered inspired her to daringly reach up and tangle her fingers in his mane.
Dareena hastily wiped a few stray tears away and brought her mind back to business. "Will I have to be the Guardian forever? What if I fall in love or want to stop?"
"You will swear no oath to me unless you wish it, and should you truly fall in love, you will be allowed to set aside your position and stay and age with him, becoming a mortal again." Aslan gave her a final nudge with his nose. "Unless you have other questions, I will leave you to think on it. If you decide to decline my offer, I will take you back to Cair Paravel and you may live your life as you wish. If you decide to accept, eat the apple. I will return for your answer shortly."
Aslan rose and padded off to a grove of trees a short distance away and disappeared among them, leaving the apple sitting on the grass where he had stood.
Dareena put her head in her hands and thought hard. Oh, heavens, what a decision! She had nothing waiting for her back in Narnia except uncertainty and a life as a singer that she may not even be able to achieve. Aslan's offer was so overwhelming! It was an opportunity to do so many things that she never would have even dreamed possible. But, it was such a tremendous commitment . . . There would never be room in her life for 'just me.' Everything she did would be at the command of the Lion. She may need to fight or be involved in armed conflict, so she wouldn't necessarily be safe. If she somehow made a mistake it would have consequences far beyond what little Dareena the weaver's daughter could foresee.
Would it be worth it? She thought of everything that she could do. She would have all the time in the world to learn and discover. She would have a hand in historical events and see the world change before her. She would watch people grow old and fade, but she would still meet them and know them.
She started, her heart suddenly racing as something furry tried to crawl into her lap.
"Prowler! I'm so sorry, I forgot you completely! Were you here listening for all of that?" Dareena asked.
Prowler nodded. "I couldn't think of anywhere to go, so I just stayed out of the way. I did hear everything though."
"What do you think I should do?" she asked.
"Well, I'm a Talking Beast and if it was me, it would be enough that he wants me to do it and I'd give anything to be able to be of such assistance. But things are different for humans. They have a stronger will and are less connected to him sometimes. I can't really advise you," Prowler said apologetically. "All I can say is that it is an unspeakable honor for him to offer this to you. There are other people out there who would willingly die to be offered the chance to serve Aslan in this fashion. But those other people aren't you. Are you willing to serve him? I guarantee that you could never find a better master!"
"You're right," she mused. "I've never encountered him before this, and no one I've ever met has either. Every story I've heard says that while he may not be tame, he is good. Somehow, I know that he would never endanger me without good reason, and that I can trust that he won't let me fail unless I bring failure down upon myself."
Dareena reached over and picked up the apple. "It's just that I've always hated being alone, and this sounds so incredibly lonely. Having to go through the centuries never having a constant companion and watching others make their matches and families without ever having one of my own again would be . . . But, I suppose that I'm not guaranteed that even if I say no."
She heard the sound of heavy paws in front of her and saw Aslan walking back towards her. Gently tipping Prowler off her lap, she rose and faced the Lion.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened her spine and said, "I'll do it. I'll serve you and be whatever you need me to be. I'll come when you call, go when you bid, and do what you wish. I will be the Guardian."
Aslan gave a nod and she could tell he was pleased at her answer. "Then eat the apple, Daughter of Eve."
Her lips trembled a little from nervousness as she carefully took a bite. The apple was delicately sweet and juicy. She felt the tiredness and aches from her journey fall away with every bite. It was surprisingly filling and she had only finished three quarters of it before she felt completely full.
"Do I need to finish it?" she asked.
Aslan shook his head. "Even one bite would have been enough." Then he turned to Prowler. "It is time to take you back home, now, little one."
"Please, sir," Prowler said, pleadingly. "Let me stay with her!"
Dareena nearly dropped the rest of the apple in shock. What on earth?
"This is a job that is mighty indeed and extra paws could be helpful. I will do whatever is needed. You said that she will be a spy at times. I've always hated my size but now the fact that I'm so much smaller than other Talking Cats would be an advantage. I could go places even a human could not and no one would think that I'm anything other than a normal mouser." Prowler looked back at Dareena. "And she needs someone to look after her until she's gotten her fur licked down proper."
"You don't need to do this, Prowler," Dareena said. "I know I said I'll likely be lonely, but don't you want to go back to your family?"
Prowler gave her a rather incredulous look. "I'm a cat! I don't even know how many brothers or sisters I may have. Besides, I do them far more good by helping you than I would by banging around at home getting underfoot." He turned back to Aslan. "Please, let me help, too."
Aslan gave a great Lion's laugh. "Oh, little cousin, you have convinced me. I feel that you will be of great assistance in the years to come. You, too, will have to eat of the apple. Do you wish to be a stranger to time and never feel his touch, but have to watch him lay his hand on others?"
Prowler straightened and sat up as primly as possible and looked positively dignified. "If that is the price I must pay then so be it."
Aslan turned to Dareena. "Give him the rest of the apple."
Dareena obeyed and the Cat daintily finished off the fruit.
"Come with me," Aslan said. "I have something to show you." Dareena picked Prowler up in her arms and followed the Lion to the edge of an unbelievably high cliff. Stretching out before her was the world in all its entirety. She gasped and made to take a step back, but stopped herself before she did. She needed to start getting into the habit of trusting Aslan not to let her come to harm.
"This is your charge," he said. "Every creature, both speaking and dumb, every rock, tree, lake and stream is under your guardianship. You will never be alone in this. I will always be guiding you. I have every confidence that you will succeed. You start a new life today, leaving behind everything that you were."
Dareena could barely breath for the glory of the view before her. She looked over the land that was now her responsibility until either Aslan released her or the world ended. "I don't even feel like Dareena anymore, but somehow it doesn't frighten me."
Aslan chuckled. "You have the heart of a lioness."
"Then I shall be called Leona," she whispered.
TBC...
Author's note for chapter: I know it may seem long-winded, but almost every bit of dialog between Aslan and Leona is important, so even if you just skim you may want to read that part. Please review and let me know if it all made sense!!