I AM A SINNER
I was asked (or begged, rather) to do a chapter for Eustace Scrubb in this story. I decided for a story like this one, it would be most ideal to write about the part where Aslan restores the boy from his dragon shape in "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader". (Looking forward to the release of that movie!) This was a little trickier to write than the previous chapters, since Eustace is not my most favorite character—not to say that I despise him; I just don't care for him like I do for Tumnus and the others. And I'm not nearly as familiar with "VDT" as I am with the rest of the Narnia series.
So, I had a bit of homework to do!
Characters © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media
Story © unicorn-skydancer08
All rights reserved.
"The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove his people's disgrace from all the earth."
~ Isaiah 25:8 (NIV)
Part 5: Eustace
If there ever existed a time in Eustace Scrubb's life when he had felt more miserable, or more afraid, or loathed himself more, he could not recall it. The young boy, cousin to Edmund and Lucy Pevensie, and the bane of every other person's existence, had just spent the worst five days of his life (or, rather, five and a half) as a hideous, monstrous green dragon—complete with scales, enormous wings like those of an overgrown bat, a pair of authentic horns, a colossal tail, and cruel claws that could easily tear flesh off bone.
As if this weren't humiliating and disheartening enough, he had brought this curse upon himself.
If only he hadn't chanced upon that cave, the cave that was the home to a recently slain dragon, where an entire hoard of glorious treasures beyond the imagination was kept.
Being the greedy pig that he was, Eustace did not hesitate to load up his pockets with the dead dragon's sacred loot. Later, exhaustion and the lateness of the hour caught up with the boy, and he'd spent the night on a bed of gold and silver and jewels and precious trinkets, feeling richer than the richest king in Narnia.
Yet imagine the poor, foolish child's surprise, his utmost horror and disgust, when he awoke to discover that he had become a dragon himself! The gold armband that fit nicely on him when he was a human boy now cut agonizingly into his thick dragon flesh, and Eustace found he was a living furnace: he could breathe out genuine fire and smoke, just like a real dragon.
Devastated and despairing, at a complete loss of how he was to break this awful curse, Eustace had used his new wings to fly back to his cousins, as well as the rest of the group whom he had mindlessly deserted earlier. But he could not ask for their assistance; for that matter, he could not speak to them at all, as he was a dragon and could therefore only converse in the tongue of the dragons: a low, deep, guttural language that sounded like nothing more than mere rumbling and grumbling to the ears of other creatures. Though everyone was genuinely sympathetic for him—including Reepicheep, the little warrior mouse Eustace had taunted and abused by swinging him about by his tail—there was nothing they could do to help him.
None of them were wizards, or had any knowledge in the field of magic. It would take a miracle to restore Eustace to his original shape.
For five and a half days—days that seemed more like years, or even eternities—Eustace remained like this. While he was a dragon, he had plenty of time to think things over.
He now saw himself for what he truly was, for what others viewed him as: a mean, miserable, gruesome little beast.
As if mistreating Reepicheep, and stealing what did not belong to him, was not already horrid enough, Eustace had done many other terrible things that landed him in trouble.
He recalled how he often picked on other kids at his school in his own world, even little kids who hadn't done anything whatsoever to offend him, just to make himself seem more imposing. He always did the exact opposite of what he was told to do. He often cut school, and persuaded other children to do the same. When he came here to Narnia with Edmund and Lucy, he had always maintained a smart mouth, talking back to those who had more power and authority over him; he even once framed Lucy, making it appear like she was taking more than her fair share of food and water while they were aboard the vessel they called The Dawn Treader—when in truth, Eustace was the one taking more than his rightful share.
Luckily for Lucy, Edmund stood by her and she was eventually cleared of blame, and Eustace had been furious when he ended up being the one punished.
Now, in the form of a fire-breathing beast, a monster cut off from the whole human race, Eustace began to sorely regret all that he had done.
He vowed to do anything to set things right.
If only there were some way to reverse the spell, to become a boy again—he couldn't stand being cooped up in this dreadful dragon hide forever.
Then, as fate would have it, Eustace ended up meeting Aslan, the Great Golden Lion that Edmund and Lucy never seemed to stop talking about. Just the name alone lulled their whole traveling group into a reverent silence. Eustace didn't see what was so great and mighty about this Aslan—but now that he stood before Aslan himself, in the living flesh, the boy now understood.
Aslan had come to Eustace, and led the dragon-child to the top of a mountain, where there grew a lush garden full of grass and trees, ripe with fruit and everything anyone could dream of.
In the middle of the garden was a deep well, with cool, clean water bubbling up from the bottom. It was like an enormous circular bath, with marble steps leading down into it. The water itself was as clear as the purest crystal. And Aslan—Eustace had no idea how he did it—somehow managed to remove the dragon skin from Eustace's flesh, and he made Eustace bathe in the brisk waters a number of times. When Eustace finally emerged from those waters, he was a boy once again.
Now, as a human, Eustace cowered in awe and trepidation before the noble Lion who had saved him.
He was grateful that he was no longer that ghastly dragon, indeed and truly he was, but now what was going to happen to him?
What would Aslan do with him this time? Eustace remembered reading in books that lions could easily rip a fully grown man into pieces—and he was no man, and Aslan was no common lion.
Far much worse than the notion of getting himself torn apart, of becoming a slick full-course meal, there was something about the way Aslan looked at Eustace that made the boy want to cover his face, or run away and hide himself, even though his whole body seemed to have frozen. Those intense yellow eyes seemed to glow with an inner light. An unseen power seemed to emanate from the gallant creature. Aslan seemed able to look right through Eustace, and know everything that he had done; not just in the past few days, but throughout his entire life.
This made Eustace more than a little embarrassed, more than slightly uncomfortable. It was like standing naked, only worse than naked.
At some point, Eustace managed to avert his own shallow eyes from the Great Lion's amaranthine ones, but he found he couldn't bring himself to walk away, or turn to the side, or move so much as a muscle. It was like something kept him rooted to the spot, and he could not fight it.
"Child," he heard Aslan address him, in a voice that for some reason made him think of fresh, golden honey spread on wafers, "why do you not look at me? Am I truly that repulsive to you?"
"N-no," Eustace stammered out, his own voice sounding puerile and pathetic in comparison.
"Why are you afraid of me, child?"
"I-I'm not afraid!" insisted Eustace, trying vainly to sound braver than he actually felt.
Aslan, of course, was never fooled by the boy's false bravado for half a minute. "I can clearly see that you are afraid, my son…far more afraid than you realize," he said quietly.
Eustace was incredulous to hear him now refer to him as "my son".
Just what did Aslan mean by that? He was not Eustace's father. They didn't even come from the same species!
"Well…how do you expect me to feel?" the boy blurted out, the words emerging louder and harsher than intended. "You're a lion, and lions eat people, and all sorts of things!"
Aslan, rather than getting cross with the boy, as most people did when he used that tone of voice, said as placidly as ever, "What makes you think it was my intention to eat you?"
"What reason w-wouldn't you have?" said Eustace, and there was an audible crack in his voice, as he felt his eyes well up. Without even realizing it, hot tears began slipping down his cheeks, one after another. "A-after everything I did, after all the t-trouble I caused, considering the b-big, fat prat that I am, w-what reason would you not have to h-hate me, Aslan?"
Now the tears were falling thicker and faster than ever. Though Eustace fought with all his might to keep them back, though he brushed furiously at his face with his wrist, that only resulted in new tears retracing the salty trails left behind by the old ones.
"Hate you?" Aslan spoke the words as if they hurt him. "How could I possibly hate you?"
All at once, the barrier broke. "I can never do anything right!" Eustace burst out. "Everybody hates me! My parents hate me, my teachers hate me, all the kids at my school hate me; even my own cousins hate me! No one gives a care about what happens to me, or wants anything to do with me!" He faltered. "And…and why wouldn't they?" he said weakly. "It's…it's not like I did anything to deserve them, or gave them any reason to like me. I was always such a brat…always getting myself into trouble, and inventing lies to get myself out of that trouble."
Eustace didn't know why he was telling Aslan all of this; it just spilled out of him, like water. Somehow, Aslan got him to talk without threatening him, or even touching him.
That grave, intense look in those brilliant gold eyes alone was sufficient to loosen the boy's tongue.
And as Eustace revealed the truth to the Great Lion, something inside of him melted. His whole composure turned to soup, and he started crying like a baby.
His hands flew up to cover his face as he sobbed. His scrawny legs gave out from under him, causing him to plummet to his knees.
"Child…child," Aslan said in a hushed voice, swiftly moving closer to the weeping boy.
Eustace did not look up, but only cried harder. He recalled how he was forever boasting to everyone that he never cried, that crying was purely for "sissies"—but here, in this spot, he just couldn't help himself. As he sobbed his heart out on the ground, Aslan wrapped a paw around his small frame and brought the lad closer to his own body, as if to shelter Eustace from a storm.
In a way, there was indeed a storm going on, and quite a raging one at that.
How long Eustace remained on his knees, exactly how long he bawled, he hadn't the faintest idea. But Aslan stayed with him the whole time, keeping him close. When Eustace was finally able to calm down and breathe more easily, and he found the courage to look up again, Aslan didn't show any sign of annoyance or disgust, but rather nuzzled Eustace's tear-soaked face, and gently licked his cheek. "I'm sorry, Aslan," said Eustace when he had regained his voice. This was the first time he had ever uttered such words, voluntarily. "I—I really am sorry."
And Aslan seemed to know perfectly well just what Eustace was sorry for.
"There, there, dear one," he soothed, "it's all right. Everything is going to be all right."
Eustace hesitated a moment, drawing in a long, rattling gasp. "C-can you—" He swallowed hard. "Can you ever forgive me, Aslan? For—for everything? Can you forgive me?"
"I already forgave you, my son, before you even asked," Aslan assured him benevolently.
He brushed his nose briefly against Eustace's forehead, and Eustace was amazed at how much better he felt now. It was like something poisonous had been purged from him.
For the first time since he first arrived in Narnia with his cousins, for the first time in a long time, Eustace Scrubb felt at peace. All of his feelings of anger and resentment, along with his feelings of fear and despair, were gone, as though washed away with his tears. He felt calm, like there was nothing in the world he needed to fear.
He could only smile at Aslan, and hug the Lion gratefully round the neck. Aslan remained still and allowed himself to be hugged, and Eustace even found the nerve to kiss his nose.
Then Eustace managed to bring himself to say the words that had always been the most difficult for him to say: "I—I love you, Aslan."
From the moment those words passed his lips, he knew them from the bottom of his heart to be true.
"And I love you," Aslan replied, even though there was no need to say so. Eustace already knew.