Disclaimer: Seriously, kids, I don't own C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia.

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Chapter 9: Meeting with the Goddess

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On a field trip to the zoo, a six year-old Caitlin Elysium had looked up to the tour guide from under an adorable pink hat that matched her pink dress and pink shoes. ""Mister Thomas?" she said, looking up with question marks in her big blue eyes. "Are wolverines the same thing as baby wolves?"

Mister Thomas had peered down at the child with a grin. "Not quite, honey. Wolves are much, much bigger and they all live together like a family. Wolverines are a lot meaner, and they live alone."

Little Caitlin had frowned at this statement. "If they had families, maybe they wouldn't be mean."

The man patted her little pink hat with a little grin. "I don't know about that, missy. Sometimes animals are just plain mean."

At the time, Caitlin hadn't believed that it could be true, that any living creature could be inherently cruel. But as a feral wolverine leapt at her, its vicious snarl sounding through the trees, the young woman quickly changed her mind.

The monster had come from above, perhaps climbing onto a boulder or some such thing, and came down on Caitlin's shoulders with such force that she had to fall to one side to keep from crushing Mera with her body. It stayed on top of her for a moment more, digging at her back with its lengthy claws that left red, bleeding welts.

Caitlin yelled at the pain that erupted down her back and tried to launch the beast away from her as she sat up. The wolverine staggered back, rallying its strength. Glancing at the trees around her, Caitlin briefly considered climbing one to safety, but her sense told her that leaving Mera wasn't an option.

The little otter screamed, utterly terrified as she saw the blood seeping into her sister's hair and clothes. Caitlin groaned in pain, kicking out at the beast's head as it rushed at them again. She waved her arms above her head, trying to seem like more of a threat despite how her back burned at the slightest movement. "Get out of here, get!! You're not getting anything here, you brainless brute!"

Apparently, the wolverine didn't comprehend her angry tone, since it continued growling and snapping at her as she flailed about. It suddenly charged at her, and she stumbled backward. Adrenaline brought abnormal strength to Caitlin's arms, and with an equally vicious snarl she threw all of her weight at the charging monster, sending it a few feet away. Unfortunately, it had swung its paw back before she could react and a deep gash appeared on her forearm.

She let out a bloodcurdling screech of pain and animalistic rage, which resonated through more than just the small clearing where her battle was being fought.

Around her, the trees twitched to life ever so slowly and carried the sound of her screams through their branches in all directions. Leaves pulsed as the sound passed through them, over two miles away.

Her uninjured arm reached wildly around for something to strike the beast with, coming up with a stone that came to a blunt point. She held it aloft, teeth bared as she crouched between Mera and the wolverine. Blood dripped down her arm and down her spine, red and warm and painful as it colored the dirt at her feet. Caitlin didn't have the time to notice her wounds, but the wolverine's nose inhaled the scent of spilled blood like it was a freshly-cooked meal.

The wolverine rushed forward again, growling deep in his throat. He snapped at her face, coming close enough to rustle her hair before she fell back in shock. Caitlin crashed her rock into the wolverine's paw, and felt a satisfying crunch, but it only seemed to piss it off.

She was beginning to get dizzy as more and more of her blood seeped out of the numerous gashes her body had been painted with. It hurt. It hurt so badly that she was hardly able to focus on the wolverine's movements. She was going to leave Mera on her own if she gave up, and even through her rapidly blurring vision, it was obvious to her that the wolverine had no intention of backing down.

"Caitlin?!" The voice that reached Caitlin's ears was not Mera's, but it was achingly familiar.

Talith, she thought, trying to focus her eyesight through the pain. "I'm going to pass out in a minute here, Talith."

"Hang on for a few moments. Help is almost here." He said quickly, somewhere close to her ear.

She nodded, swallowing the taste of bile as she swung out at the wolverine's advances.

Talith felt panic fully overtake him as he caught sight of Caitlin's wounded state. The Telmarine stranger had been just behind him, the great black horse galloping at full speed, but it appeared that the Daughter of Eve would collapse before he could arrive. In that moment, Talith felt the sudden desire to be a monstrous griffin that could rip the vile creature open with one swipe of his talons.

Whistling through the air, an arrow sprouted from the wolverine's side. Talith saw the looming shape of the Telmarine's horse weave through the trees, its rider clutching a crossbow in skilled hands. The wolverine turned to face the new foe, the arrow not having deterred it in the slightest. Another arrow appeared in the brute's shoulder, and still it stood its ground. It was only when the Telmarine aimed for the creature's face that it halted its motions, blood spurting in a sickening fountain as the arrow sunk deeply into the skin under one beady eye.

Talith turned his head away from the grisly scene just in time to see Mr. Otter biting the cord around Mera's neck, chopping it neatly in two. The pup whimpered piteously and buried herself into the thick fur of her father's belly, his arms coming to comfort her small form as it shook from fear.

"Papa?" Caitlin asked, feeling extremely nauseated as the smell of what was most likely her own blood permeated the air. "Where'd you come from?"

The otter pointed to the great black horse behind him. "I was on that blasted thing. Last time I ride one of those, believe, you, me." His dark eyes surveyed the many wounds that marred Caitlin's fair skin, concern showing in his face. "We must get you home as quickly as possible. Your mama needs to tend those."

Talith watched Caitlin nod slowly and noticed that her eyes were growing heavy. He hovered anxiously between the Daughter of Eve and the otters, hardly remembering the man behind them until he spoke up.

"You do not have very long before you pass out, Daughter of Eve. We must stop the bleeding." He said in his deep voice, his back to the small group.

Talith zoomed to linger over the man's shoulder as he rummaged in his saddlebags for something that could have been a shirt. "It is probably not wise to have her walk or swim back to the den. Would you object to carrying her on your horse?"

"I was going to suggest the very same thing, Hummingbird." The man said, walking over to the injured party with his shirt in hand. As the man knelt by Caitlin and pressed the shirt to her back, Talith hummed by Mr. Otter's ear. He watched as Caitlin hissed in pain and dug her fingers into the dirt at the sudden pressure, worry once again clouding his thoughts.

"Talith." Mr. Otter said, anxiety evident in his voice as he continued to pat Mera's back. "Go on ahead and tell Mrs. Otter what to expect. We'll be along as quickly as possible, and tell her I'll be along with extra yarrow, since we'll probably need it."

The Hummingbird shot into the trees as little more than a brown blur, ducking leaves and spider's webs in his haste to reach the otter den. It took him hardly two minutes to reach the den, and even from a distance Talith could hear the frantic questions of the small pups.

"Mera is probably so scared! I knew I shouldn't have teased her, what if I never see her again?"

"Caitlin and Mera have been gobbled up, I just know it!"

"Caitlin said to run if anything scary happened, but what if they really got hurt? What if they're dead forever??"

Mrs. Otter put a stop to their worrying as she saw Talith come into their clearing and hover a few feet away. "I'll not have that talk. All of you go inside and talk quietly until I say otherwise."

Talith hurried up to Mrs. Otter's side, flying just before her face as he spoke quickly. "It was a wolverine. Feral."

Mrs. Otter put a paw over her heart. "Oh, by Aslan…"

"Mera is alright, and her Papa is with her. Caitlin has several deep wounds on her back and one on her arm, and the Telmarine has put a shirt over it until they arrive."

"A Telmarine?"

"Yes, Mr. Otter met him in the market. I'm afraid I don't know the full reasoning behind his presence. But Mr. Otter said that he would be bringing more yarrow, since your stores are probably too low to fully tend to Caitlin's wounds."

Frantic by now, Mrs. Otter disappeared into the den with Talith just over her shoulder, murmuring worried sounds under her breath as she twisted her paws in and out of one another. The pups stared from their bed as their mother rummaged through cupboards and baskets for bandages and the like, all keeping silent for the first time in their short lives.

Talith gently lifted up the end of a spool of thread with a foot. "You may need to stitch her up when she arrives. I'm not sure how deep her wounds are."

The unmistakable sound of horse's hooves rustled outside and Mrs. Otter opened the door with a flourish as she rushed out to see Caitlin on the great black horse, presumably unconscious or close to it. She rode sidesaddle, held between the arm of the Telmarine and his chest. As the horse came to a jerking halt, Caitlin opened her eyes and started to get down off the horse herself, but her escort stopped her and stepped down first. He helped her down, not noticing the annoyed scowl that settled on her face which Talith believed to be completely unrelated to her injuries.

A sopping Mr. Otter appeared behind them, an equally soaked Mera clutching him tightly with fear still present in her eyes. Mrs. Otter let out a little cry and ran to her husband, hugging him close as Mera's little hands attached themselves to her fur. The moment did not last long before Mr. Otter cleared his throat and moved towards the den and his foster daughter.

Talith flitted into the den in front of them all, perching on the table as he watched the odd procession enter. The Otters entered first, sending Mera to bed with her brothers and sister who received her with hugs and excited whispers. Behind them, Caitlin ducked inside with the young man helping her along. She sat down hard on the dirt floor, grunting in pain as her mama peeled back the bloody shirt from her back and surveyed the oozing gashes that the wolverine had sliced into her skin. Her dress was in shambles, the sleeve on her shoulder all but falling off and revealing far too much skin to be decent.

Mrs. Otter turned to her husband. "Why don't you take this man outside, darling? For modesty's sake."

Ignoring the annoyed huff of his foster daughter, Mr. Otter nodded to his wife and left the den. The Telmarine hung back for a moment, but followed the Otter out onto the riverbank with a humming Talith a few inches above his head. Night had fallen quickly and a cacophony of insects and birds rattled above them in the dark tree tops. For a moment, Talith considered returning to his nest for a good night's sleep after the stresses of the day, but a glance at Mr. Otter's stern expression convinced the young Hummingbird that an interesting conversation was soon to follow.

Talith settled on the clothesline next to forgotten bed linens that wafted in a soft spring wind. The great black horse whinnied softly at the arrival of its master, who patted its nose and removed the expensive-looking bridle from its face.

"Sir, I have several questions for you." Mr. Otter said at last, keeping a safe distance from the tamed horse. "At the market, you questioned me about Caitlin quite thoroughly. What interest do you have in her?"

The Son of Adam turned, still holding the bridle in his hands. "No interest, Otter, except her protection. I was told that her life would be in danger and that I was to keep harm from coming to her."

From his perch, Talith gave the young man a quizzical look. "Who knew that such a thing would happen?"

Mr. Otter looked hard at the Son of Adam, who stared right back for a long moment saying everything without opening his mouth. Suddenly, Mr. Otter spoke. "Aslan would." He said reverently, realization coming like the sun through dark clouds. "Aslan would know that you and I would cross paths in the market today, or that Caitlin would come to Narnia at all."

Talith's eyes were wide with shock. "You were sent by Aslan himself?"

The man nodded. "Yes, I was."

The Hummingbird shook his head. "Does He have some purpose for her? Is that why you were sent to keep her safe?"

"I was told that she needed the King's protection, so I have come to give it to her. She has a greater purpose here in Narnia, of that Aslan assured me." He said eloquently, and Talith thought absently that he spoke far too well to warrant his common appearance.

A frown still on his feature, Mr. Otter crossed his arms over his chest. "So, the King sent you after Caitlin as well?"

"No." The Telmarine said, suddenly seeming much taller and more dignified to his small audience. "I am the King."

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A wooden spoon set between her white teeth, Caitlin squeezed her blue eyes shut as her mama came close to stitch up her arm. With the first stab of the needle, the Daughter of Eve let out an impressive scream and her teeth made deep indentions in the grain of the wood. Dark string began to make its way down the stretch of her arm, bringing together the bleeding skin. In their bed, the pups were silent as they tried to block out the sight and sounds of their sister's pain.

Giving the Daughter of Eve a bit of ginger to keep any nausea at bay, Mrs. Otter sat with her foster daughter and made a neat row of 17 stitches as the girl whimpered and cried through the pain. At last, sweating and hiccoughing with tears, Caitlin surveyed the expanse of her arm now marred by tiny black stitches as her mama mixed water, yarrow, and Klamath weed with a mortar and pestle to make a thick green salve. The cool, slippery texture was soothing to the broken skin, numbing the pain away to a dull throb almost as soon as it was put on. Brought from a high shelf or a dark closet, the gray shirt from her other life had been cut into long strips for bandages. Mrs. Otter wound it around Caitlin's arm with care, tying it into a neat bow near her elbow before quietly asking her to lie down on her tummy.

The cuts on her back were too shallow to warrant stitches, and only required cleaning and a few soothing layers of salve. After a few unsuccessful attempts to properly bandage her back, Mrs. Otter at last found a way to wrap the bits of cloth around Caitlin's lean form to keep the wounds covered.

"There you are, dear." Mrs. Otter said, handing her the soft leggings that had been washed that morning, followed by an overlarge tunic that wouldn't press upon her stitches or scratches. Her modesty was slightly compromised by the deep neckline, so she wrapped herself in a patchwork quilt after getting dressed.

It was then that Caitlin realized that her mama was crying. Tears were rolling down the soft fur of her face as her features showed motherly love and sympathy and guilt. "Oh, my dear…I'm so sorry that this happened. Perhaps if I had sent you after your papa or kept you at the den for just a few minutes longer…" The otter's words trailed off into a melancholy silence.

With her uninjured arm, Caitlin caught her mama in a sideways hug. "It wasn't your fault at all, Mama. You couldn't have known that something would happen."

The pups, now peeking around the door jamb with worried looks, began sniffling as well which caught their sister's attention. Smiling softly, she waved them over and gathered them up when they launched themselves into the folds of the quilt, staying silent even as tiny paws grasped her injured arm or stepped on her back. In that moment, nothing mattered but making sure her family knew that she loved them, and would die for them, without a second thought.

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I am SO sorry about how long it's taking me to update. College has been kicking my ass lately, but my muse slapped me in the face recently, and hopefully she'll keep it up. Reviews might make me write faster, though…

Love always, Fausta