Disclaimer: I don't own the world of Narnia. If I did, Cair Paravel would be MINE!

Chapter 4: Beware the Wicked Witch of the West!

Edmund shuddered in the bottom of the White Witch's sleigh. Traveling through winter wastelands for hours was getting boring.

Snow, snow, snow, LEAF; snow, snow, ROCK (yes!); snow, snow, more snow… Edmund counted. Geez, she needs to get new deals with her landscaping company.

His head jerked up as a wolf's howl echoed in the distance. A dark forest was in sight on the horizon, and the Witch was more alert, scanning the area.

We must be close. Edmund frowned worriedly. I hope she won't harm my family…

Fat chance.

The Pevensies, the Beavers, and the off-planeters ran breathlessly and skidded to a stop in front of the river. One hundred feet of sheet ice was still spanning the enormous river, and what was left of that was cracking and breaking off every few seconds. To their right, the river flowed freely; and to their left, a humongous frozen waterfall was drip-melting. It would probably explode soon from the water pressure beneath.

Elizabeth and Will grinned at each other. "Ice-skating!"

"Really?!" Peter whirled around to face them. "We have to cross an unfrozen river, are being chased by an insane witch, have to lead an army… and somehow this all reminds you of ice-skating?!"

They shrugged. "Trying to diffuse the tension, that's all."

Padme studied the river. "Perhaps we can arrange a diplomatic solution with the ferryman. Who has money?" Her pockets had nothing but lint and fur.

Obi-Wan turned out his pockets, coming up with a handful of red dust, a smooth black stone, and a button. "I'm broke."

Anakin had extra droid parts. "Can't we just use aggressive negotiations, Padme?"

Padme shot him a look that said, really?

"Nope, casino cleaned me out." Han had extra gun cartridges, tools, and a shotgun crammed in his pockets, don't ask me how they all fit.

Leia sighed. "You Corellian pirates and your gambling."

"You Senators with your perfect politics and principles," Han shot back. "Besides, I'll stop gambling once we're married."

"Once we're what?!"

Peter shook his head and grabbed Lucy's hand. "There is no ferryman, you idiots! We need to cross now!"

"Can't we just think about this for a minute?" Susan asked.

Peter was angry. "We don't HAVE a minute!"

"I'm just trying to be realistic!"

"No, you're trying to be smart! As usual!"

He and the others moved out on the ice, which cracked immediately. Everybody screeched in terror and moved back onto stable shore. Mr. Beaver offered to go first, and stepped out again, feeling for steady ice. Mrs. Beaver, Peter, Susan, and Lucy followed, with some of the off-planeters stepping timidly behind.

Wolves howled overhead, and some icicles fell from the waterfall. Lucy and Padme screamed.

"Oh no! Run!" As if it wasn't obvious enough.

The wolves bounded over the waterfall, and cut off their only way across. The ice couldn't stand all the pressure and split, sending the rest of the crowd scuttling back to the shore where they came from. The grey mammals got between the two groups and widened the gulf.

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Luke lifted their hands to Force-push the wolves away, but the wolves only stumbled a few feet and kept advancing. Puzzled that the Force didn't work in Narnia, they ignited their lightsabers (Anakin had a sword).

Maugrim, the lead wolf, chuckled as he approached the Beavers and the Pevensies, stuck in the middle of the ice. Beaver tried to charge, but got pinned to the ground, a wolf's jaws around his neck.

Peter's arms were shaking as he held Maugrim at sword point in what he hoped was a threatening manner. The girls and Mrs. Beaver huddled behind him.

"Put that down, boy. Someone could get hurt." Maugrim flattened his ears.

"Don't worry about me! Run 'im through!" Mr. Beaver yelled.

Leave my characters alone, you overgrown mutt! Don't make me come out there!

Maugrim growled at the narrator's words and stalked towards them. "Leave now while you can, and your brother leaves with you."

Susan frowned. "Stop, Peter, maybe we should listen to him!"

"Mmm, smart girl."

Shooting issued from behind them. Han Solo, Padme, and Will were aiming their blasters and bow at the wolves, but no matter how many they shot, the wolves just kept coming. The others stood in a semicircle, swords and lightsabers and daggers and clubs ready to defend.

"Peter, just because some man hands you a sword, it doesn't make you a hero! Drop it! Just drop it!" Susan shrieked at him unnecessarily.

Shut up, Susan, nobody touches the Peter sword but me, Peter thought.

Mr. Beaver grunted. "No! Narnia needs ya, Peter, don't listen ta the dummy! Gut 'im while you still have a chance! Kill 'im! Kill 'im now!"

"So what's it gonna be, Son of Adam? I won't wait forever, and neither will the river." Maugrim smiled evilly, or rather bared his teeth at them, because wolves can't smile. His grimace faltered when several of his wolves turned into squirrels, which chattered and ran up the nearest trees. Lucy thought she saw fading gold in Merlin's eyes.

A rumbling came from above them. Lucy looked in terror at the shaking wall of ice and spraying water that was the waterfall. "PETER!"

I think the waterfall is melting, Peter.

Will everyone just shut up, I can't concentrate! Peter looked around frantically. "Hold onto to me!" The girls hung onto his arms as he raised his sword and drove it into the ice.

Nothing happened. Jack Sparrow spread his hands.

"Sorry, but is somethin' s'posed to be going on 'ere?"

Then the waterfall burst open, producing a huge tidal wave that poured forth millions of gallons of water, and covering everything and everybody in site. The piece of ice that the Pevensies were on was somehow magically floating in the water, and Gwaine and Jack just floated on their rum barrels, but the tidal wave washed over the rest. They all went under screaming and howling.

Five minutes after the dramatic drenching, Peter, Susan, and the Beavers were back safely on the opposite shore, panting. The others of their group were slowly appearing out of the raging river as well, shivering with the cold.

Peter looked horror-struck at the small empty cloak in his hands. Where was Lucy?

Unfortunately, Susan saw too and gasped. "Not again, Peter! What have you done? Lucy?!" She was frantic. "Lucy! Lucy!"

"Has anyone seen my coat?" Lucy stumbled up to the riverbank, looking like a half-drowned water rat. Susan and Peter hugged her in relief.

"Camp's right this way, humans," Mr. Beaver waddled off.

Splash! Three more people heaved themselves up onto the riverbank, gasping for breath. Peter sighed, "Come on guys, hurry up! We don't have all day to go swimming."

They raised their heads, and Peter backed up defensively. Wait a minute, who are they? They're not part of our group! Oh no… ughh, Narrator!

Wasn't me, wasn't me, I swear!

A black-haired, green-eyed young man around 16 years old got up, and his clothes instantly dried. His teammates were shivering.

"Here, Annabeth, Grover." He touched their clothes and they became dry too. He looked around at the Pevensies and off-worlders and rolled his eyes. "Oh great. Please, tell me that you're not monsters."

The blond curly-haired girl, apparently Annabeth, drew her dagger fiercely. "Who are you people?"

The third person on the ground (addressed as Grover) was dark-skinned and mournfully shaking his head. "A whole bagful. Perfectly good tin cans, all ruined."

Peter sighed and stepped forward. "I'm Peter Pevensie, these are my sisters Susan and Lucy, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, and all our friends from different places. They appeared here like you did. And I know your next question: You're in Narnia, and I don't know why we're all here. We're gonna go ask an Aslan person to help us rescue my brother Edmund and send us all back home. Who are you?"

The pretty blond girl sheathed her dagger, satisfied. Her gray eyes analyzed the whole group like a complicated math assignment. "I'm Annabeth Chase." She elbowed the black-haired guy standing next to her.

"Oh, I'm Percy. Percy Jackson." He pulled their 3rd party off the ground. "And this is Grover."

Grover eyed them. "I think they're safe, guys. They don't smell like monsters."

Monsters? Our off-planeters whispered behind their hands. Luke Skywalker stared dreamily at Annabeth.

"Good, because we need someone to get us back to Manhattan pronto, the attack on Mount Olympus will start soon!" Annabeth looked worried.

"Can we join ya'lls group?" Percy asked.

Peter glanced around and shrugged. "Guess we have no choice. Sure."

If anyone wants to know, I'm the narrator.

Annabeth looked around for the strange voice that popped up out of nowhere. "Who was that?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Like she said, she's the narrator. She basically refuses to help, gives tips at the wrong time, and is generally annoying."

I'm doing my best, I really am! I just can't do anymore until ya'll meet Aslan. I'll make it up to you, I promise.

Annabeth was still suspicious of the invisible narrator, but backed down. "I'll be listening, Narrator."

Ok, whatever.

Lucy rushed from the back of the assembly, looking awestruck at Grover. "You're a faun? Cool! Just like Mr. Tumnus!"

Grover frowned. "Faun? Dude, that's an insult! Faun is Roman, girl, I'm a satyr. Get your facts straight, woman. You should be able to tell a Faun from a Satyr."

Lucy put her hands on her hips. "Aren't they the same thing, just from different Greek and Roman god-myths?"

Grover shook his head furiously. "Whatever. And the Greek gods are not myths, either!"

Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth were having their own problems.

"I told you going left wasn't the best idea, Percy!"

"How was I to know, Annabeth? It's the freaking Labryinth!"

"Yes, and that's exactly why you should have listened to a certain daughter of Athena, who had a map and knew strategically where to go!"

"Strategy doesn't work in the Labyrinth, Wise Girl."

"Oh, don't you get smart with me, Seaweed Brain. I told you the right way to go, but nooo, you just had to take the left tunnel, didn't you? And look where it got us!"

"At least we landed safely." Percy shrugged.

At this point Annabeth looked like she was going to explode. "SAFELY?! You call landing in the middle of unknown strangers, in an unknown land, with unknown dangers, SAFELY? And in a river, no less!"

"Hey, we're part of their group now, which I believe was my plan, smarty pants." Percy looked smug.

"No it wasn't!" Annabeth's blond curls quivered in indignation. "Well, maybe it was, but I only went along with it because there was no better strategy at the time."

"Well, what would you have done then, Miss Princess?" Percy asked sarcastically.

Her shoulders slumped. "I don't know."

Grover, who had been arguing with Lucy over whether Greek gods were real or not, walked up. "Come on, guys, stop it. You're giving me a headache, and satyrs aren't supposed to even have headaches. I'm not gonna even get into it with her,"-he pointed to Lucy- "so let's get going."

The scenery was changing slowly, and it was much nicer; bits of color poked out of the snow everywhere. Trees and plants were blooming with flowers and fruits, and grass and vines spread over the ground as they watched. It was ethereal.

Merlin beamed in happiness. He could practically hear magic humming all around him and through him.

Oh happy day, oh happy day, hey, hey…

Arthur rolled his eyes at the narrator singing a gospel song in Narnia, but kept his eye on the suspicious-looking (to him) vines curling next to where he walked.

The Witch stood on the hill watching the beautiful tumbling waterfall create rainbows, while green grass grew at her feet. She glared at the river, as if that would make it turn back to ice.

Edmund smiled for the first time since… well, never. The winter wasteland had met its match at last; new buds were already popping out on the trees, and crocuses and daffodils bobbed their heads out of piles of melting snow. The sun shone bright and cheerful. His stomach grumbled hungrily. Man, I wish I had some Turkish Delight right now, I could warm it in the sun…

Even the Witch's dwarf, Ginarrbrik, relaxed his shoulders and took his coat off. "It's so warm out!"

The Witch glowered at him.

He jerked his coat back on. "Uh, I'll go check the sleigh."

Edmund couldn't help smiling again. Thank you, Narrator!

You're welcome.

They walked around the corner to Her sleigh again, and this time, they weren't alone. Her wolves stalked into the clearing, carrying something orange inside their jaws. Somehow the wolves had managed to survive drowning under the waterfall.

"Your Majesty, we found the traitor," Maugrim stated. "He was rallying your enemies near the Shuddering Woods." His lieutenant flung the orange thing down; it was a Talking Fox.

The Fox stood up. "Forgive me, Your Majesty…"

The White Witch scoffed. "Don't waste my time with flattery."

"I wasn't talking to you, my lady." The Fox inclined his head towards Edmund, whose eyes went wide. Your Majesty? I like the sound of that…

The offended Witch pointed her wand at the Fox. Her eyes were merciless. "Where are the humans? You'll make a nice addition to my courtyard collection."

His tail twitched as he hesitated.

Edmund couldn't bear to see another innocent statue like Tumnus. He dashed forward. "Wait, no, don't! The Beaver said something about the Stone Table, and that Aslan had an army there."

The Witch raised her eyebrows. "An army?" She glanced at the Fox. He bowed his head and sighed with despair.

"Thank you, Edmund. I'm glad this creature got to see some honesty… before he dies!" She plunged her wand into the chest of the Fox.

"NO!" Edmund cried out.

She slapped the boy and gave him a bloody lip. "Think about whose side you're on, Edmund. Mine…" She twisted his head to look at the poor stone animal. "Or theirs."

As the Witch walked away, she stumbled into a pit full of peanut butter and jelly. Furious, she roared and swung her wand at thin air.

Ha ha! Wait, ow! Don't-

…

…

…

…

…

Sorry about that, she turned me into a statue. Aslan had to come breathe on me.

Edmund's shock became laughter. He continued with his plans of escape and mutiny as Ginarrbrik drove back to the castle. The Witch glared at him, minus her PB&J-smeared coat.