Daughter of Eve, Niece of Thomas
By JalendaviLady
Timeline: A few days post-The Last Battle and beyond.
Disclaimer: The movies belong to Walden Media and the books belong to the current holders of the C. S. Lewis's estate.
Chapter 3: Bow
She had taken two weeks to get together the nerve to use the address in Professor Kirke's address book to go see just what the damage to the bow would cost to fix.
It had been a parting gift, when they were returning to London after that wondrous and terrifying summer. She'd kept up with it as well as she could at school - archery was still a valued skill, even if it wasn't exactly ladylike - but after Caspian... there had been social pressure.
She wasn't going back, after all, so what did it matter if her Narnian survival skills slipped away?
It had been ill-kept.
The first thing she noticed upon entering the little shop was the young man sitting on the counter calculating something on a paper tablet.
"Good morning. Is Mr. Chase here?"
The young man didn't look up. "Glenn's in the back right now, fletching. What do you need?"
She blinked. His accent was somewhat familiar, but she couldn't place it. "I'm the girl who called yesterday about needing a bow repaired. Mr. Chase sold it to a Professor Kirke years ago, and..."
He raised his head, slightly. "You're the one the Professor left his things to."
"He'd given me the bow as a gift, years ago. I just haven't taken all that good care of it, so... What business of yours is it who he willed his earthly possessions to?"
An elderly gentleman walked into the room with a slight waddle. "He was a dear friend of both of us. And a great many other people. It surprised no few number of us that there was someone he cared enough to leave his archives to who was not someone we knew."
"My siblings and I, we were friends of his after we spent a summer there in his estate during the Blitz. But the others died in the accident, so it's just me now."
There was something about their eyes, and Mr. Chase kept glancing into hers.
"Can you fix it?" She held out the bow.
"Stars in the heaven! He told me he was giving it to someone who knew how to take care of it!"
"I grew up. Lost my way a bit, actually, Mr. Chase."
"Glenn, if you please." He clicked his tongue, then looked at her eyes again. "Young lady, I get to say this more often than I'd like, but act your real age."
Something sparkled in the young man's eyes, and he chuckled lightly.
"Mogie, not so long ago I was saying the same to you, if you'll kindly recall!" He took the bow from her and began to examine it.
"What do you mean?"
"What was his name?" Mogie's voice was quiet but full of emotion.
"Pardon?"
"His name. What was it?" Reverence, from the irreverent.
She recalled Edmund and Peter talking in low voices about a wood and rings, and Professor Kirke's notes tucked into his Bible about there being more than just two worlds. And his words so long ago about knowing others who had gone places from their words and appearances.
"Aslan," she whispered.
"Ah," Glenn breathed. "That explains a few things. He was Nrotha for me."
"Mranu," Mogie whispered.
"I thought he might be hiding a band of you from the rest of us."
She blinked again. "'Rest of us'?"
"Travel between worlds is not unheard of, although rare. We travelers have a way of finding each other, Miss...?"
"Pevensie. Susan Pevensie."
Glenn continued examining the bow as he continued to talk. "We meet up from time to time, try to give everyone contact with others. Professor Kirke was something of our historian and record-keeper, and those records are all he left to us."
"You know who he is...?" she asked.
"Of course!" Glenn chuckled. "Usually quite a while after we stumble back here, and never before going back. Some just talk about it more or less than others."
"And some as little as we can." Mogie was looking away, behind the counter.
Glenn seemed to be done with the bow. "It's going to take several weeks of work."
"How much will I owe you?"
"For a new friend, who is refinding her way... nothing. But if it happens again," he warned.
"Thank you so much." She was rather overwhelmed.
"Is... is it normal," she asked after a moment, "for people to have different reactions to Lent, after?"
"Always," Mogie choked.
"It depends on the experience, but yes. We all react differently, once we know. Sometimes even before we know."
"We were like that. All four of us."
"Ah. And you?" Glenn offered her a chair.
"I take it badly. I saw..." She wiped tears away from her eyes, and he handed her a handkerchief. "Thank you. I... I wasn't the worst off, but... bad enough." Edmund... there could have been support, real support, for you!
"It would be best if you did not mention how it happened," Mogie whispered very seriously.
"Why? I didn't cause it."
"Unfortunately, the community doesn't take well to those who did." Glenn was matter-of-fact. "The Professor never liked that we made the distinction, after all we're all Daughters of Eve and Sons of Adam, but..."
"They call people like me Nephews. And Nieces, but there are fewer of those these days than there used to be."
"Of who?"
He finally turned to look at her, really look at her straight on.
And she knew.