I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. And I'm sorry - I've been fighting a bit of depression and a whole lot of writer's block on this. Thank you to Shauna, without whom I don't think I'd ever be able to write anything anymore.
The first thing she noticed was that while she was certainly not in the castle anymore, neither was she in the wood Aslan had spoken of. There was a soft green light from above, and she felt strange, like she wasn't connected to anything at all; she could vaguely sense other forms beside her but that thought didn't matter as she seemed to rise towards the light until her head broke the surface of something that she suddenly realized might have been water. It would certainly explain the lack of contact with anything solid.
Hauling herself onto the bank of the little pool she'd emerged from, she was a little surprised to see she wasn't wet. She shifted to make room for Edmund, who was the first to get to his feet, and he extended his hand to her. She took it, allowing him to lever her off the grassy ground. Peter rose a second later and the three of them stood, taking in their surroundings.
It was a wood, as Aslan had said. In fact, it was so dense that Lucy could not see the sky above her. But the sun must have been out, because a bright, pleasant light had managed to penetrate the thick foliage overhead, drenching the entire area in a rather sleepy sense of peacefulness. This serenity was actually the most distinctive quality of the forest – it was so peaceful, so devoid of movement, that it was almost eerie. No wind disturbed the leaves, no little creatures ruffled the grass, no birds perched in the lofty branches of the trees around them. It was as if the entire place were frozen in time.
"Well," said Peter, breaking the silence. "Aslan said we use the green rings to move to another world – I would assume the other pools would be the entrances to the other worlds, if the one we just came out of was from Narnia."
Lucy nodded, and the two of them moved towards a different pool before Edmund gave a polite cough from behind them. They turned back to find him with his arms crossed, one eyebrow arched.
"Don't you think we ought to make sure we know how to get back?" he pointed out. Peter flushed.
"Yes, I suppose so," he muttered distractedly. He reached into his belt pouch and withdrew something relatively small, a little gold medallion carved to resemble a lion's head. She recalled that it had been a gift from the Northern Dwarves after the Battle of Beruna, a coronation present in honor of his courage, and that he always brought it with him on campaign, rather like a good luck charm. But now, he reached down to the base of one of the trees by the pool's edge and picked up a fallen twig, sticking it into the earth by the spring and hanging the medallion upon it. It glinted in the sun, marking the pool well. Peter straightened and turned back to his siblings, who nodded, and the three of them looked around at the other pools.
"Pick one," said Edmund to Lucy. She hesitated a moment before pointing to the nearest pool, which was about eight feet across, and (like all the others) quite still, though it seemed darker than most of the others. The three of them stepped forward, and the younger two trade the yellow rings for the green, which they slipped on. Again, Lucy took Peter's hand, and again they looked around at each other with a bit of uncertainty, before shrugging and taking a step into the other pool.
Traveling away from the Wood Between the Worlds was not quite the same as traveling to it. This time, there was no green light, no pool to break the surface of, but the feeling of disconnectedness stayed, like she wasn't standing or lying or sitting on anything. The cosmos flashed by her eyes, a sight so breathtaking that even Narnia seemed to pale in comparison. And then there was a different view, a dark sky, forked, lightning, torrential rain…
…and then she was in it. With a yelp of unhappy surprise, Lucy found herself and her brothers in the midst of a thunderstorm, being pounded by freezing rain, the air bearing a chill that seeped straight through their armor and clothes and brought their arms to numbness. They drew their cloaks up immediately, finding that it didn't do much to ease the wetness, but at least it helped the cold ever-so-slightly. It was obviously nighttime though the moon was covered by the storm clouds.
They stood in a sort of low valley, surrounded by harsh slopes on any side. However, at the top of one there loomed a small, turreted castle with ragged banners that flapped frenziedly in the fierce wind. Light spilled from its windows onto the ground beneath.
"Any port in a storm," said Peter, shrugging.
"That's supposed to be a metaphor," muttered Edmund, but he was the first to start up the steep hill, wrapping his arms around himself and rubbing them in an attempt to stay warm. The Wood Between the Worlds had been at that perfect point between hot and cool where a person could just fall asleep, but this entire world seemed haunted by a strange chill.
"You don't suppose Susan is here, do you?" asked Lucy as she followed them. She received two one-shouldered shrugs in response.
"We'll never know if we don't look," said Edmund. They continued on through the hammering rain, rapidly becoming drenched and frigid and miserable. How, in the space of five minutes, did things change so much?
"But how will we know?" pressed Lucy. "There are thousands of pools. It could take years to search a whole world. We're not going to live for thousands of years."
"We know, Lucy," said Peter tiredly. "Just…we'll find her sooner than that. Somehow."
They struggled up the slope for another ten minutes, battered by the elements, until finally they were standing in front of the towering stone and wood gates of the castle. It seemed strangely sinister and threatening up close, like it was waiting to swallow them up. But it was as good a place as any to start looking, so Edmund stepped forward, cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered,
"Open up!"
The sound was swallowed by the storm, and Peter cast a disapproving glance over at his brother's choice of words, but a second later the gates creaked and slowly inched their way open a crack – just enough for them to pass one by one. The Pevensies shared yet another look before Peter strode forward, his hand inching to his sword. Lucy noted with some bemusement that her brothers had not had to say anything to let each other know what order they would go in; Edmund had simply prodded her forward so that they could stand both in front and behind her, forming a protective barricade.
They made it through the gates with little trouble, and the instant they were through, the giant wooden doors thudded softly shut again, a reaction so immediate that the gate almost clipped Edmund's heel. There was no sign of any person anywhere until a tall, obscenely thin man limped his way towards them. It was too dark to tell where he had come from. As he approached, Lucy made out that though he seemed quite tall, he was hunched over a bit – if he hadn't been, he would have towered far above even Peter. Despite the storm and the cold, he wore only a black tunic and leggings, and he carried a lantern in his gnarled old hand. Wiry stark-white hair crusted the parts of his head that were not entirely bald. Finally, he came to stand before them, eyeing them suspiciously as he stroked the stubble on his chin with a bony finger.
"Well," he wheezed finally. Lucy edged closer to her brothers on instinct. "Your rooms are ready."
If this surprised anyone but Lucy, they certainly did a good job of covering it up. Peter and Edmund shared a look, then each reached down and took one of her hands. Ordinarily she would have protested such coddling, but at the moment it was rather reassuring to have a good grip on something so familiar when everything else was so foreign and spooky. Eager to get out of the rain, she nodded, and as the old man jerkily swiveled to lead the way into the castle, they followed at a distance.
What they would find inside was anyone's guess.