Oh this felt very good to write. I always feel more inspiration to write while traveling. Though, is it still considered traveling if you are at home? Well, when home is now a couple thousand miles, one ocean, and a continent away, inspiration is everywhere.

Besides, writing a forest scene in your mind while hiking in the Black Forest... sends shivers up your spine, no?

Enjoy.


Mairin knew she was racing against time. Outrunning an average man? Sure. But a wolf?

No, running would get her nowhere. But what? What could she do? Every other step was a stumble over a log or tree root. It was only a matter of time before she twisted her ankle, and then what choice would she have? She had to think of something, and quick.

She could hear the man calling out to her, telling her to wait, but her focus was on surviving, not whatever false words he had to say.

The crashing of the wolves' paws in the underbrush caused her heart to leap into her throat. Close, too close.

In the movies there was always a way out. The hero always came up with some brilliant idea to save her life. So where was her epiphany?

Her mind drew a blank. All her mind could see were the razor sharp teeth of the wolf which hunted her, the hungry glint in its eyes, likely picturing its next supper: her.

A heavy weight leaped onto her back, and the sharp pain of her head impacting the ground reminded Mairin that this was no Hollywood movie. This was real. Real enough to feel. Real enough to die.

She heard a low moan, and realized it was came from her own mouth. Damn, that hurt. The weight had yet to move from her back, and she could smell the rank breath of the large animal near her neck. Terror kept her still, unable to move a limb. The forest was eerily quiet as the beginnings of morning light began to make shadows among the grasses and stones.

Her vision blurred, and the ground she could see became tinged red as blood dripped from her forehead. What was it her mother always told her? Head injuries always bled more than others? Red was such a pretty color.

She had to bite her lip to prevent a hysteric chuckle from escaping. What in the name of all the saints was wrong with her?

The wolf said nothing. She said nothing. Both just breathed in silence. Was he considering what part of her would be tastiest? It was all she could do to keep breathing without panicking.

There was sound of movement from the underbrush, quickly coming towards the woman and wolf. She felt the muscles tighten in the wolf's body.

The noise stopped, and the wolf relaxed. All she could see was the shadowy ground and her own blood congealing on strands of hair which had fallen before her eyes.

"Good, you found her." Panted the voice of the man from earlier.

"Foolish things are easily caught, Majesty." The wolf growled near her neck. A shiver ran down Mairin's back, the motion sending her head into a new series of sharp aches.

"Foolish action? Perhaps." There was something to the man's voice—the "Majesty's" voice—that Mairin could just barely pick up. Irritation? No, not quite.

"Foolish action, but not such a foolish girl, I think, Malnik."

The wolf humpfed, another whiff of putrid breath blowing into her face. "Foolish girls make foolish actions. Who tries to outrun the fastest Wolf in Narnia? Who tries to outwit the cleverest man in all the lands? Foolish girl."

The man chuckled. "Foolish, brave, desperate…sometimes I wonder where the difference lies, my friend. Now let's have that conversation, my lady." He intoned, walking around to squat next to her head, still lying prone on the cold forest floor.

A million and two sarcastic responses sat ready on the tip of her tongue, but even as she opened her mouth to spit out a chosen few, the man brushed strands of her bloodied hair out from her eyes. The gentle touch clearing her mind of the bitter sarcasm.

"Malnik, if you would please?" There was a curious look in the man's eyes, Mairin noticed, with wrinkles of concern creasing their corners.

I probably do look a little worse for wear, Marin thought, and no thanks to you "Majesty Man".

She kept her mouth shut, grateful for the release of the weight on her back and not willing to invite it back. Not knowing what to do, she remained lying on the ground, staring intently at the man while keeping her senses open to the location of the wolf (exactly two paces to her side, next to the man, and still entirely too close to her own self).

The man stared back at her, his brown eyes as unflinching as her own. He seemed to make a decision after a time, holding out his hand, palm up, before her face.

She stared at him a moment longer, brow briefly creasing in confusion until she realized he meant for her to take it. Slowly, and not without a great deal of suspicion, she pushed herself up from the ground, allowing one dirty hand to grab his own.

Her vision flashed with each stab from her head, the pain crashing into her conscious with every heartbeat, yet she kept herself steady as she rose. It was not until she was almost fully erect she felt herself sway from the pain, clutching the hand out of instinct to keep her balance.

The man, to his benefit, did nothing but keep the same grip he held before. Was he ignoring her weakness to be polite, or did he just not care, she wondered. No, the concern was still there, his grip was ever so slightly firmer, his stance slightly wider, ready to jump towards her.

Or ready to run in case she decided to make for freedom?

He was in luck, however. She was in absolutely no shape to run from them again. She knew it, the wolf knew it, and if he was as clever as the wolf said, then it was likely he knew as well.

Her feet hurt. Her head hurt. She just wanted to sleep.

She kept staring at the man and his brown eyes. Neither made a move as the wolf stood to the side watching. She could feel them evaluating her, watching to make sure she would not run off again, as poor of an attempt it would be.

Mairin could feel herself jerk with every beat of her heart. She almost cursed the vital organ for pumping more blood to her head and rejuvenating the pain with each pump of its muscles.

He kept his grip on her hand, and she did not move to remove hers.

Perhaps the romantics out there are picturing this as a romantic scene between two star crossed lovers, and that she refused to withdraw her hand out of an awestruck love for the man.

They would be quite incorrect.

In fact, Mairin worried that the moment she removed her hand, she would fall straight back to the ground again. Perhaps she would feel better, even if slightly, if she were back on the cold forest floor. But these were strangers, strangers who had hunted her through the night. Being in a position of weakness was not somewhere she ever wanted to be, let alone at this very minute in this less-than-favorable situation.

Finally he spoke, voice carefully measured and, now that she listened carefully, was unlike any accent she had heard before. "I daresay you would rather conduct this conversation in the comfort of a chair in front of a warm fire. As would I. It remains however, that I must know who you are and what your purpose is in my kingdom."

Wait.

Did he just say "my kingdom?" "Majesty" wasn't just a nickname, but an honest-to-god title?

Mairin felt the hysteria bubbling within her again, and quickly stuffed it deep down. She could deal with buggering emotions later, her next words, she sensed, would decide far more than just this man's opinion of her, though she could hardly imagine what it would be.

So she was answering a King, eh? A King, a talking wolf, and a girl with magic (or something). What was this, a Disney movie? Was she going to be the next princess with her own line of merchandise? Again, she stuffed the hysteria deeper into her core.

She kept her voice as steady as she could through the pain and weariness which continued to overwhelm her consciousness.

"My name is Mairin. And my purpose…" She shrugged with a sad smile, wincing from the movement. "I suppose I'm supposed to figure that out." Her eyes never left his, and she hoped he could read the truth on her face. For that's what it was, the truth. She did not know why she was here, but here she was. She did not know why she could work wonders with an element, but she could. She did not know what the purpose of either was, but deep in her core she knew that there was one. One she had to find and, eventually, act upon.

The wolf snorted. "Don't play games with us, girl. Your life is in the balance, don't you know? Perhaps you are that foolish…"

She could see the beginnings of a frown forming on the man's face. She wondered if she had said the wrong thing, if she had just signed her own death warrant by being too flip. But it was the truth, she felt it. Was it being flip of you said the truth? Goodness, she sounded like a teenager.

After a moment, the man rephrased his question. "Why did you come into these lands?" His voice was even more carefully measured, as though he was expecting an answer she didn't know how to give. He wanted a certain answer…what was it?

"Why? I suppose the technical answer would be because I had no choice." His brow furrowed at her words, but she continued. "A book fell from my shelves and opened to a page I had never seen before. An illustration made of ink, depicting a forest scene. It…" Her voice caught in her throat. They would never believe her. But this was a King and a talking wolf…perhaps she did have a chance? "The illustration grew out from the pages."

The man and the wolf were eerily still. "Grew?" The man prompted. She could detect no trace of sarcasm or disbelief. Perhaps it was just well concealed in his carefully weighted voice.

"Yes. The ink grew from the pages and surrounded me. Then…then the ink was gone, and instead there were actual trees surrounding me. Actual trees, actual noises, actual scents. My room was gone, replaced by the very forest we stand in now. You asked why I was in your kingdom, and that is why. A book opened up and carried me away."

Her voice drifted off as she finished, a new feeling of deep sadness adding to her weariness. Would she ever go back?

"So I guess the better question to be asking right now," she directed towards the man, "is not why am I here, but where is 'here'?"

"Narnia," he replied quietly. "You are in a land called Narnia." He glanced down at the hand which still held hers. "Where are you from, Mairin-who-did-not-mean-to-be-here?"

His voice was quiet, but serious. Once again, she was not sure what he was searching for, so she replied with the truth.

"The United States."

"The United States…" He repeated, his voice so quiet now, it was almost lost in the gentle breeze.

She could grab the breeze, Mairin thought. Strike them and run. Run to safety.

But she felt safe now.

So she did nothing, but waited for the man to speak again.

"I once knew of a place called that." His eyes were sad, yet behind his gaze he seemed to be thinking hard. "Once… I also once came from a place called England."

Mairin jerked, her hand nearly falling out of the King's. "What?"

He did not seem to have heard her, nor did he seem to notice the wolf come to sit by his feet. "I do not remember much about England. Surprisingly little, in fact. I was a boy there."

Curiosity killed the cat…

"Was?" Mairin asked, as fascinated by his words as he was by his thoughts.

"I…I too arrived in Narnia without knowing why or how."

…and satisfaction brought it back.

"A book took you here too!?" Mairin's voice was obnoxiously loud in contrast to the man's. It seemed to shake him from his stupor, however.

"No…not a book," his voice was stronger now, more firm. "A…Spare Oom…I'm not really sure." His firm gaze settled on Mairin.

"You were frightened. You ran. You were smart, not to trust the first person you met in this strange world, my lady. Far smarter than I was." The wolf looked up at his Majesty with a gaze Mairin could not hope to decipher.

"But I must implore you to trust me, nonetheless. While Narnia is safer than it has been in many decades, it is not safe for a woman alone."

Perhaps he could feel her bristle at the comment, for he smiled. "Nor even a man alone." He amended. He gazed down at the wolf, Malnik, Mairin recalled. "A man and a wolf tends to be sufficient, however."

Malnik nodded, "Your Majesty, the sun is rising. Their Majesties will be concerned."

The man chuckled. "Only Susan, my friend. Ever the worrier, she is." He turned his smile to her once again. "My lady, my friend is correct. We should head back to the Cair—my home, Our castle."

"Our?" Could she just stop asking questions for one second, maybe then she could sit down and rest. The pounding in her head had doubled since when she first rose from the ground.

The man seemed to pause. "I apologize, I forgot to introduce myself." He bowed, though noticeably not low, releasing her hand. "I am Edmund the Just, King of Narnia. I rule this land with my siblings, whom you will meet momentarily."

Further questions bubbled within her. Siblings? King? Narnia?

Purpose?

Is he trustworthy?

But before any could come out, she felt herself wobble as another sharp lightning bolt of pain thundered through her skull. As darkness crowded the edges of her vision like eager carrions around a corpse, she knew even if his hand had still been there, she would not be able to stay upright.

Now she could sleep.


Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! I certainly did! I think I'm going to especially enjoy developing Mairin and Edmund's relationship in future chapters. Malnik's too, actually.

Have a wonderful week.