All characters and character likenesses are copyright of C.S. Lewis and everyone affiliated with him and his estate. I only own parts of the plot and any miscellaneous characters I may introduce.
This is a heavily alternative universe based on the Chronicles of Narnia series, and I do not intend to offend any purists out there. Again, I own only parts of the plot.
This chapter was helped along by Miniver, who suggested I sould deviate a bit more and delve deeper into the characters.
'Return to Gold' – Chapter 4 – Worlds Meet Pt 1
Lucy felt out of sorts. She was excited beyond belief to be home in Narnia, to be back in the world and body that she loved, but at the same time she was upset. She knew that her time in Narnia my be over before it has even begun. Numbly she followed her siblings as they made their way to the center of what was left of the majestic palace, in the hopes of finding the treasure room still in tact. It was the center of magic in the building, housing their gifts from Father Christmas as well as other items important to each royal.
Lucy knew what each chest, if they were still there, would contain. Peter's would have Rhillian and Aran, the Sword and Shield of Narnia; Susan's bow Kyrie and her quiver would lie beside Hune, the Horn of Narnia; Edmund, while he received no gifts, his chest would be full of maps and books as well as his own swords. Lucy's chest would be full of odds and ends, items collected on her travels throughout her kingdom and the other kingdoms she had visited. Shells from the lone Islands, exquisite pottery from Galma, raw cut jewels from Calormen, and beautifully made dresses and cloaks from Archenland.
Distantly she heard Peter and Edmund asking questions of the dwarf, Trumpkin, learning the history of what had happened after Lucy led them out of their world. A jolt of guilt speared through her at that thought. She had been responsible for them leaving their home and lives behind, for ripping them from the world that she felt they belonged in. Susan walked on silently, eyes alert and wary despite her mantle as 'The Gentle'. At odd times Lucy would snicker at the moniker, knowing how stubborn and bloodthirsty her sister could be.
"You should wait out here," Peter told the dwarf as they stopped before a thick pillar of stone that once had walls coming out of its sides to blend in with the other recessed columns that had once lines the halls of Cair Paravel.
"The magic is keyed to us and Aslan alone." The high king continued. "It will destroy anyone else who tries to enter the hall."
"Very well, just hurry it up. Time is wasting."
Lucy followed behind Peter, Edmund and Susan bringing up the rear. They were all barefoot, not giving any though to the chance of sharp debris underfoot. The magic of Narnia was filling them, making them more vibrant and real. Lucy ran her hand along the wall as they made their way down the spiral staircase, feeling the faint smoothness from her fingers in the past. The treasure room had been her sanctuary, one of the places that she had felt connected with Aslan in a way that she wasn't elsewhere.
"I don't believe it." Edmund laughed lightly as they reached the bottom of the staircase. "It's all still here."
Four chests, gilded in gold and jewels, reflected the thin light let in by the high arrow slot windows that circled the top of the tower. Dust floated in the air between the four returning rulers and their statuary counterparts that stood guard behind the trunks. Lucy, eager to be clothed in something appropriate, coltishly leapt over stray boulders and fallen beams before stopping before her chest. She heard the others make their way to their places as well, but her attention was focused on the task at hand.
Slowly Lucy lifted the lid, the hinges still silent after all this time, revealing her past and future to her eyes. In the center, on top of everything else, lay her cordial and dagger, having not moved from where she had placed them the night before that fateful day. Reverently she lifted her gifts, feeling the leather of their belt was supple and in no way decayed. Setting them aside, she pulled out the first dress she touched. It was a creation of yellow and gold, a thick and full ball gown. Susan sighed.
"What?" Peter asked.
"Hune; I must have left it on my saddle, the day we went back."
Lucy kept her eyes on her task, heart breaking at the sadness in her sisters' voice. If it hadn't been for Lucy, they never would have left Narnia in the first place. They would have stayed and lived out their lives, been the Kings and Queens that they were meant to be. Next she pulled out her favorite traveling dress of crimson red and brown with a cream shift. Below them were her riding boots and cloak.
"We should change and rejoin Trumpkin." Lucy stated as she stepped behind her statue, hiding from the view of the others so she could change her clothes. As the remnants of England fell away, Lucy felt herself shift, returning to the woman she was before. She was Queen Lucy, the Valliant, champion believer of Aslan. Dressed she stepped out and returned her attention to the chest.
Quickly she strapped her cordial, Dawn, around her waist before reaching deeper, under several dresses. From what Trumpkin had told them, the legends missed one aspect of Lucy, just as it had glossed over some facets of the others. No one knew that Lucy was an accomplished swordswoman. She had learned her techniques from the fauns, being similar to them in both build and strength. She was the best at their style, able to hold her own against bigger opponents.
"You know," Edmund told her as she strapped the baldric across her chest. "I had fair forgotten about that."
Lucy laughed lightly as she adjusted the light weight of the faun made broadsword against her back. She had wanted a sword whose sheath was out of the way, freeing her up to move about as was needed. The fauns, who wore no belts, manufactured her a scabbard with a thinner than normal baldric to fit across her back and down between her breasts. Over this she tossed her cloak, also specially made with a loose collar and larger hood to cover the sword while not taking away from the functionality of the garment.
"I'm just glad that you remembered them Lu." Peter pulled a black cloak on over his blue riding outfit. "We may need all the swords we can get." He bent to pick up a pack at his feet, and Lucy could hear his armor clanking and chain metal shifting. Edmund and Susan had similar packs. Quickly Lucy found her chain mail dress and stuffed it into a pack as well a few changes of clothes.
"Well," Susan groused as they made their way back up. "At least, according to Trumpkin, no one knows. We have a bit of an advantage over this Miraz."
"It's about time." The dwarf stood from where he was sitting on a pile of rock. Behind the four royals, the door to the treasure room slammed shut, the magic re-locking the stone door.
"We need to get moving if we are going to make it to the Howe by tomorrow."
"I told Trumpkin to meet us at Aslan's Howe by moonrise tonight. We need to be at the Howe by nightfall." Trufflehunter told Caspian as Glenstorm the centaur led the way to the ancient seat of power.
"Do you think that horn really worked?" Nickabrick sounded like he was constantly mad at the world, and he probably was. Caspian knew that some were just pre-disposed to being grumpy and disagreeable all the time.
"Why do you doubt it?" The badger growled. "You are my friend, but I have never met someone who doubted so much at every turn."
"For over 1,300 years we have been forced to survive on our own." The dwarf said forcefully. Caspian, who was walking behind the two, rubbed his forehead wearily. He was already so tiered of listening to them bicker, of feeling the hate and apathy that seemed to radiate off of the dwarf.
"Why should the blowing of a horn make any difference?"
"This is Queen Susan's horn, Hune." Reepicheep spoke up from between the two. "It is told that once blown, help will come."
Nickabrick grumbled and Caspian snapped.
"Shut it!" Everyone jumped at the venom in the prince's voice. "If you don't believe, then why are you helping us? You try to backstab Aslan, the Kings and Queens at every turn. Leave us be if you can't have a little faith."
The party had stopped walking, watching the young man. Caspian felt the weight of their stares, but no longer cared. He had his hands clenched and was breathing heavy. The mid day sun filtered through the trees, illuminating the young man and his three companions. The Narnians thought they saw a faint glow around Caspian's head, almost like a crown, but with a blink the image was gone. Many felt that they were witnessing their future king finally accepting his role.
"While I may have little faith in your so called 'help', I hate Miraz and the Telmarines more than I don't believe in Aslan or the Kings and Queens of old. For now, you are stuck with me and my grumpiness."
"You would rather call on a witch who was always more dead then alive to rid us of our enemies." Reepicheep shook his head.
"No one will be calling on any witch." Caspian spoke to Nickabrick, but looked among the crowd, making sure no one mistook his intentions.
"Good." A deep, male voice spoke from beyond the crowd of Narnians. Creatures scattered, revealing two men, two women and a dwarf.
The tallest of the men had dark blonde hair reaching his shoulder as well as a mustache and goatee, while the other man had hair as black as Caspians, but it was cut relatively short and he was clean shaven. They were both dressed in well made, if out of date riding clothes with swords strapped to their sides. The women were also dressed in well made riding dresses that were also out of date. One was dark headed with a quiver of arrows with a bow on her back. Her eyes were a bright sky blue, pinning Caspian to where he stood. The other woman seemed to be close to his age.
She was tall, her head reaching his chin. Most women he had met barely reached his shoulders, all of them too short for his taste. She had long, maple brown hair shot though with gold that hung to her waist. Eyes the color of ferns were riveted to his, open and warm. Her dress was crimson, making her skin appear milky white and transclucent. Caspian was shocked by how he was reacting to this girl. Sure, he had been attracted to women before, but there was something different, something fresh about the girl in red.
"Her help is not the kind that we need." The blonde man continued.
"We need Aslan Peter." The one he was drawn to spoke up, and suddenly it made sense to Caspian.
"High King Peter?"