BELLIFORTIS

A Chronicles of Narnia Fanfiction

by hairsprayheart

Chapter Two: Dreams and Nightmares

AN: Wow. I'm embarrassed that it took me this long to update. *sigh* Just a head's up - I changed the spelling to "Albarik" in order to keep in line with traditional Narnian names. It should be fixed now. Please let me know what you think.

It was white. White, blank whiteness, dead whiteness, everywhere. A blanket of snow covered the ground. The powder dusted everything in sight - trees, shrubs, rocks – seeming to suffocate the life out of each with its cold embrace. It was as silent as death.

Crack! A mail-clad fist punched through the snow, and with a resounding roar, an armored Minotaur emerged…

Edmund sat up, his chest heaving and tears streaming down his cheeks. Just a dream, just a dream, he repeated to himself, over and over. He bit down fiercely on his bottom lip to distract himself from the image of the White Witch's general. This was the second time in a row he'd had a nightmare about her or one of her minions. It appeared as though even though she was dead, her evil was not. It haunted him every waking moment of his life. He could taste the coppery blood welling up.

"King Edmund, King Edmund," Mr. Tumnus called, rushing into the room with his scarf flying behind him. "Is everything all right? You were screaming."

"I was?"

Edmund stared down at his twisted sheets, ashamed. He had never been able to look Tumnus in the eye. Not since... since the dungeon. He fisted his hands in the linen. "What—what did I say?"

The Faun moved a hesitant step closer and gave Edmund a tiny, sympathetic smile.

"You were asking for Peter," he said quietly.

Edmund nodded. He fiddled a bit with the sheets, gripping and releasing them alternately. He glanced briefly out the window, then back at his hands. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. He did everything but respond. Tumnus would understand. (Fauns are very understanding creatures.)

"Mr. Tumnus," he said, just as the Faun had finally turned to go. "Did I wake you?"

The Faun shook his head, dark curls bouncing in an ironically happy fashion around his nubby little horns. "Peter's been up for hours - you didn't disturb me. Just gave me a fright, is all."

Edmund blinked rapidly, fighting tears. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered.

Tumnus stood awkwardly, and then returned to the side of Edmund's bed. They both knew that he wasn't just apologizing for making noise. The Faun squatted and looked straight at Edmund.

"I was in jail for a reason," he murmured. The words seemed to have been ripped from his throat. "We... we have all made mistakes."

Edmund squirmed under Mr. Tumnus' intense gaze - he was the reason Tumnus had been in jail - but he was intrigued. Though he had turned the Faun in, what crime had he turned him in for?

"What did you do?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

The Faun shook his head mournfully. "I was trying... I was trying..." He stumbled over his words like he was choking on them. Perhaps he was. "I was ordered by the White Witch to kidnap Lucy..."

Surprised, Edmund blinked. He noticed with considerable embarrassment that a tear was also beginning to slide down Tumnus' cheek.

"Well, not Lucy specifically. Any human that any of us found - we were supposed to turn it over to her."

"But you didn't," he said quickly. Just to make sure.

"No," Tumnus said, wiping his face with a handkerchief and collecting himself. "I didn't, thank Aslan. Which is why the Witch was angry. ...Any punishment was worth it to keep all of you safe."

"Thanks." Edmund paused thoughtfully. "I... I'm really sorry-- for everything."

Tumnus regarded him for a moment.

"Don't be sorry. The Witch has tempted all of us, but can do so never-more. Things all turned out for the better, right?"

Again, Edmund simply nodded. He knew that he would still have to live the rest of his life with what he had done, but he felt that he deserved it. The guilt he felt would forever remind him of Aslan's mercy and of his own mistakes, and not to make them again. It would serve both as his punishment and his saving grace.

Tumnus smiled at him tentatively. Then he reached out and very lightly laid his hand on Edmund's cheek. Edmund tensed initially, but felt himself oddly comforted by the contact, and slowly relaxed.

"Warm," Tumnus said, patting the cheek tenderly and retracting his hand. "And soft."

Not at all like her.

With a small smile, Mr. Tumnus rose from his haunches.

"Good day, King Edmund."

Edmund returned the smile.

"Good day, Mr. Tumnus. ... And thanks."

The Faun gave him a little wink, and was gone.

For a moment, Edmund sat quietly in his twisted sheets, and then disentangled himself from the nightmare he'd thought himself trapped in.

"I still can't believe it's real," Lucy chirped, plopping into her seat at the table with a happy sigh.

"That we're kings and queens?" Susan asked, seating herself, more gracefully, beside her sister.

"I'm still having trouble believing we're here at all," said Peter with a boyish grin.

Edmund moseyed in, looking half-asleep and more than a little confused, and collapsed into his chair.

"Good morning, Ed," Lucy cried happily.

"Nice of you to join us," Peter added, not unkindly.

"Peter, he's only just awake," Susan chided.

Ignoring her purposefully, the older king took a rather savage bite of his breakfast. Susan rolled her eyes. Though they were royals now, it was still apparent that they were children - children who had a good deal of adjusting, and growing, to do.

Lucy, ever the brave peacekeeper, piped up, "How did training with Oreius go?"

"All right," Edmund said simply, the words muffled around a mouthful of egg.

"Marry, but I'm sore," Peter complained.

Everyone stopped and looked at him, and when he eyed them exasperatedly ("Oh, whatever is it this time?"), Lucy grinned innocently.

"I haven't heard language like that since last term when we read old Shakespeare," Susan commented.

Peter glared at his toast and resumed eating. His teenage body appeared to be growing as fast as his vocabulary.

"After all the fuss, I think it would be nice to spend some time together," Lucy piped up, finishing her breakfast first.

"With you lot?" Peter wrinkled his nose and gave a mock grimace, and while Lucy giggled, he earned himself another hard stare from his other sister. "No thanks."

"You're incorrigible," Susan informed him primly.

"Who's the smart one now?" Edmund said in a stage whisper to Lucy, causing another fit of giggling. Susan just shook her head at him, but she was smiling. And then she threw a roll at his head.

The Satyr courtier positioned at the doorway glanced at them in alarm, and this was justified when Ed's look of surprise gave way to one of rage, and fire was returned with his own roll and a slice of toast besides. The toast landed, of course, butter-side down on Susan's chest, and she was too outraged to defend herself when Peter's ham found itself in her hair. Lucy laughed until Susan's plate of berries began to rain down mercilessly upon her, and then full battle was engaged.

The food-slinging siblings' laughter nearly drowned out the clanging plates that were used as shields against the spoons serving as catapults. By the time they were all covered with the remains of their breakfast, Lucy realized that they were having more fun together than she had ever dreamed possible.

When the rest of their servants trudged in, scolding them gently and wagging their heads at the children's wastefulness, they pitched in, of course, and apologized profusely. But they had all had a lovely time.

Tumnus arrived for his daily stroll with Lucy at precisely the right time (Fauns do make a habit of being precise, you know). She was now cleaned up, all the remnants of food having been scrubbed from her body during a delightful bubble bath, and a light linen dress clothed her water-pinkened skin. After a quick greeting from her other siblings, she took Mr. Tumnus' hand and they began their walk.

Today, they headed toward the wood, where Tumnus had promised to introduce Lucy to some of his friends (after continuous pleading on her part, of course). Mr. Badger, the Beavers' friend, had invited Tumnus over for tea, and Lucy, having had such nice experiences in Narnia with tea, had eagerly agreed to go when Tumnus had politely, if hesitantly, offered.

"Now, Badger may not be quite like the sort of Animal you are used to," Tumnus was saying, as they walked together in the shade of the green canopy the Trees made over their heads. "He isn't very used to having company, you see."

"That's quite all right," Lucy assured him sweetly. "I'm sure I will like him very much."

Tumnus smiled and tapped the tip of her nose with his finger playfully. "And I'm sure he will like you, too, Lucy."

The young queen beamed, and suddenly her tummy gave a rather loud growl.

"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly. "I didn't eat a very big breakfast today."

"Why ever not?" Tumnus asked worriedly. Ever since he had first met Lucy, he had taken it upon himself to take care of her. Since he was the first one to endanger his well-being, he believed himself to remain responsible for it.

So she recounted the tale of the food fight, and how the lunch she had planned on packing for their journey (it was a long way to Badger's house) ended up, for the most part, in her hair instead. Tumnus listened patiently, making surprised or amused faces at appropriate times during the story. He was a very good listener – only one of the things that Lucy liked so much about him. By the time she finished, they had arrived.

"There it is," Tumnus said, looking at a rather large hole in the ground dubiously.

"Oh, I do hope he has cakes and jam," Lucy wondered aloud, dropping to her knees to crawl into the hole.

Tumnus followed suit, albeit nervously. If Lucy wanted an adventure, she would most certainly get one.

Though she wouldn't admit it, Susan was bored. Lucy had been out with Tumnus for what seemed like ages, and Edmund and Peter were going over some important matters of state with their advisors. She, as a queen, was just as respected as her brothers, but not as adored as Lucy and not as duty-laden as Peter or Edmund. Normally, this wouldn't bother her - she was the gentle queen, the beauty of the family, the one expected to carry out her domestic tasks without complaint and run the household with grace. But there was something that irked her, a niggling fear in the back of her mind, and sitting around doing nothing but looking pretty wouldn't cut it. She wasn't supposed to fight, she knew, but Aslan had given her a bow and arrow for a reason. So, for the second day in a row, she practiced.

She was really getting good, she noticed with pleasure as each shot flew true. Of course, this wasn't all her own doing - the bow she had was enchanted - but some credit had to be given for her consistent shooting.

Collecting all of her arrows from the distant targets, Susan saw a movement in the bushes. Arrow on string, she moved over to investigate and was surprised to see a very embarrassed-looking Albarik crouching there.

"Do ye like th' arrow, yer Majesty?" he asked, with a sheepish smile.

"Very much so, Albarik," Susan said, returning the smile as she realized that very one was lined up against the taut string of the bow. She removed it hastily. "It is lovely."

Instead of saying anything, Albarik just nodded.

"Would you like to come out of the bushes now, then?"

"Yes, yer Majesty."

With a smile, Susan offered Albarik a hand and hauled him to his feet. He was short (of course) and squat, but not too much to handle for her newly toned arms.

"Thank ye, yer Majesty," he grunted, brushing leaves from his backside rather gracelessly.

"You're welcome," Susan replied. "It's Susan, though, if you please."

"Yes, yer - Susan..."

She let out a happy trill of laughter at his little slip-up, and though he blushed, all was in good fun.

"Albarik, would you like to sup with us this evening? We would very much enjoy your company."

"Nay, though I thank ye." Albarik shook his head vehemently. "I don't think yer royal brothers would care fer the likes o' me at yer table."

"Oh, don't be silly. They would be honored."

"The fellers and I usu'ly eat t'gether anyways," Albarik was quick to reassure her. "I mean, iffen you would be so inclined as to lower yourself an' join us…"

"The High King would probably have my head if I missed a meal with them," Susan replied teasingly. "But perhaps I'll take you up on your offer someday."

Satisfied, Albarik nodded. "Good eve, your Majesty."

"Good eve to you, Albarik."

With this, they parted ways. Susan began to daydream as she walked, not noticing that she fingered Albarik's bow all the while.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome to my humble abode!" Badger boomed, greeting them with a sweeping gesture.

Though the home was small, it contained more clutter than Lucy had probably ever seen before. The floor was littered with books that had been presumably swept off the table to make room for the mismatched saucers and teacups, and there were papers and writing utensils strewn ever. The remnants of recent meals

"Hello, Badger," Tumnus said warily. "This is Queen Lucy Pevensie."

"Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Badger," Lucy smiled, curtseying neatly.

"My, my! Well met, your Majesty! Come in, come in!"

He wrung Lucy's hand vigorously and lumbered off to another, more well-lit part of the burrow. Lucy grinned and followed him further into the house, taking Tumnus' hand to tug him in after her. The Badger looked a bit mad, but at least he was more interesting than the stuffy old diplomats that had been hanging about the Cair.

"Tea and sugar!" Badger offered, rummaging through his cupboards noisily.

Lucy stifled a giggle and asked Tumnus in a whisper: "Does he always end his sentences with exclamation points?"

"Why yes, I do believe he does," Tumnus said.

"Sit down, if you please!"

Lucy and Tumnus obeyed immediately, and Mr. Badger served them their tea shortly afterwards.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome!"

Between sips of the tea - which, if it contained any sugar, had either very little of it or a very different sort that Lucy was used to - Lucy began a polite conversation with Badger. He was more than happy to answer all of her questions. It went something like this:

"So, how many years have you lived here, Mr. Badger?"

"Well, almost my whole life, I suspect!"

"Do you like it?"

"Very much so!"

"Are you glad that the Winter is over, sir?"

"My heavens, yes! I told Tumnus it would happen sooner or later, and the chap didn't believe me!" This was followed by a hearty laugh. (If you have not heard a Badger laugh - and you probably haven't - then you are very lucky indeed.)

They had been there quite a while and listened to quite a few tales, most of them Lucy expected were slightly embellished, and eaten quite a few cakes and drunk quite a bit of tea. Badger had just started in on another story, this one about when he fought hand-to-paw with the White Witch after being returned to life from stone, when he asked Tumnus what he had been doing during the fight for Narnia.

After becoming increasingly uncomfortable, Tumnus, who had said not a word the entire visit, cried out, "That's quite enough!"

"Ready for more tea, are you, old boy?" Badger asked, picking up the kettle suggestively.

"I think it's time we head home, Lucy," Tumnus said quietly. "We mustn't be in the woods when night falls."

"Oh, but we're having so much fun," Lucy complained good-naturedly.

"Don't be a spoilsport, Tumnus!" Badger agreed.

The Faun frowned and looked at his companion pleadingly. "Come along, your Majesty," he pressed.

"Oh, all right," Lucy gave in. "If we must."

"Oh, Tumnus, we were having such a lovely time!" Badger shook his head. "What are you so afraid of? The forests are perfectly safe now!"

"Thank you ever so much for having us, Mr. Badger," Lucy said pointedly.

Relieved, Tumnus muttered his own good-byes and sooner than Lucy could say "Jack Robinson" they were outside again in the cooling evening air.

"We'll be back at Cair Paravel in time for supper, won't we?" Lucy asked.

"I do hope so," was all Tumnus would say. He had taken her hand and they were pushing through the trees swiftly, more swiftly than would be necessary under normal circumstances.

"Mr. Tumnus, why are we in such a hurry?"

"The forest is dangerous at night, Lucy," he reiterated. "That's all."

"That Tree did look pretty scary," Lucy teased.

He gripped her hand a little tighter and did not acknowledge the joke. This worried Lucy more than anything. She stumbled along beside him, wondering what the consequences would be if she fell. When the brush had thinned out to a point where they could slow down enough to talk, Tumnus spoke.

"Lucy, listen to me," he said seriously. "Badger is an old fool for not being afraid. Strange creatures roam the wood at night, and an encounter with any one of them would..." He paused and took a quick breath. "It would be catastrophic."

"Oh." Surprised, Lucy looked around them wildly then back at Tumnus. "Why did you let me come if you thought it would be dangerous?"

"I can't say no to you," Tumnus said helplessly. "They're just supposed to be myths, but... no one knows for sure."

"It won't be that bad," Lucy decided optimistically. "They probably aren't even real!"

"I'm sure you're right," Tumnus murmured, appearing to calm down slightly. "No one I know has ever seen them before, after all."

Lucy nodded understandingly. "If we did happen to see one, what would it look like?"

"I'm afraid we would be dead by then," Tumnus murmured. "But the legends say they are tall and two legged and dark, like a Werewolf. They carry sharp weapons and are dressed in odd clothes."

"How peculiar," Lucy said, looking thoughtful. "I wonder if they could be reasoned with. They probably aren't that frightening, once you get to know them."

Tumnus agreed with her, as he always seemed to do.

All the same, when they returned to the castle just before sunset, both of them were quite relieved.

After supper, when everyone was feeling stuffed from a meal almost (but not quite) as grand as the feast of their coronation night, everyone went out to the beach. The cold sand was a bit unpleasant between their toes, but the sound of the waves crashing on the beach made them feel soothed and sleepy, and Susan thought she could almost hear a mermaid lullaby being sung in the distant deep. They laid a blanket out and settled there to watch the stars for a little while, and Tumnus told them stories and they all enjoyed themselves immensely. Oreius, who had accompanied them (he usually kept to himself, as Centaurs are sometimes known to do), remained silent for most of their little outing. It was the Centaur himself who had suggested that they would go out to the beach that evening, though he had not explained why, and everyone was simply aching to know.

Peter lay on his back on the blanket, his siblings on either side of him, feeling safe and content. The day had been a good and productive one. He almost forgot about Oreius until the great Centaur spoke.

"High King Peter, there is something I must speak to you about."

Though reluctant to give up his comfortable position, Peter scrambled to his feet. Oreius only bothered him with something when it was of the utmost importance. A trusted advisor, a military genius, and an honorable Narnian, Peter valued his opinion highly and would want to hear anything the Centaur had to say.

"Yes, General?"

"I am sorry to disturb you, your Majesty. But the stars have spoken. The Hunter and the Sea have aligned."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Peter said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking up at the Centaur. He felt pitifully small next to the Beast, and seemed to get smaller with each passing moment. A cold shiver of fear ran down his spine at the possible gravity of the General's words. Centaurs knew the stars and what their arrangements meant, but he did not. But the seriousness with which Oreius said this made him feel more than a little frightened.

Oreius glanced up at the sky intently, as if asking for help.

"High King, war is coming again to Narnia."