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Chapter 2, Part 7: Two Can Play That Game

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Following Aslan, the five them arrived at the bottom of the How. Trumpkin still had not seen the Lion, though all the others could. Trumpkin, muttering something about the sentries, was quickly shushed by the four monarchs in his company as the Lord of the Wood turned to face them. The golden creature looked so majestic that they all felt as glad as anyone can who feels afraid and as afraid as anyone can who feels glad.

Peter strode forwards. "Oh, Aslan," said he, dropping on one knee and raising the Lion's heavy paw to his face. "I'm so glad. And I'm so sorry. I've been leading them wrong ever since we started and especially yesterday morning."

"My dear son," the Lion said, his tone forgiving. Then, turning to Caspian and Lucy, he commended, "Well done."

Lucy beamed, catching the prince's hand in her own, and Caspian blushed at the praise and the girl's touch, hanging his head to hide it.

Then, after an awful, pregnant pause, his deep voice called, "Susan." The Lion's voice drew her to him like a magnet, even though she wept in shame and felt some fear in his presence. "You have listened to fears, child," the Lord of the Wood said. "Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them." Then, exhaling upon the girl, he asked, "Are you brave again?"

Sniffling slightly, Susan looked up at the Lion's face, and even weeping, the queen appeared tragic and pale and utterly beautiful. "A little, Aslan," she said.

"And now!" the Lion said in a much louder voice (with just a hint of a roar in it), while his tail lashed his flanks playfully. "And now, where is this little Dwarf, this famous swordsman and archer, who doesn't believe in lions? Come here, son of Earth, come HERE!" The last word was nearly a roar in and of itself.

His words a ghost of themselves, Trumpkin gasped, "Wraiths and wreckage!"

The King and Queens of Old, who knew Aslan well enough as any one could, saw that Aslan liked the Dwarf a great deal… Thus, they were not disturbed by the Lion's rumbling bellow. Meanwhile, Caspian was restrained from movement by the soft warmth of Lucy's hand, telling him that all would be well. The D.L.F., however, was in a different boat. Frightened out of his wits, he tottered towards Aslan on shaky feet.

As the Dwarf approached, Aslan pounced upon him, holding him balled up in his mouth like a kitten in a mother cat's mouth. The Lion gave him a single shake that sent his armor rattling like a tinker's pack, then Aslan tossed the Dwarf up into the air, and as he came down, the huge velvety paws caught him gently and set him back on his feet.

"Son of Earth, shall we be friends?" the gold Lion asked, a hint of amusement evident in his deep voice.

Still out of breath, the Red Dwarf panted, "Ye—he—he—hes."

Aslan's mouth appeared curved up slightly in a humorous smile, but then, his face turned more serious. "Now," he said. "The Moon is setting. Look behind you: there is the dawn beginning. We have no time to lose." The Lion turned to Peter, Caspian, and the D.L.F. "You three, you sons of Adam and son of Earth, hasten into the Mound and deal with what you will find there."

The Red Dwarf – still speechless – hastened to do the Great Cat's bidding, and neither of the boys quite dared to ask Aslan if he would follow after them. All three saluting him with their swords, they turned and jingled away into the dusk.

Ever observant, Lucy noticed that was no sign of weariness on their faces… Peter appeared more man than boy – more like the High King Peter that he once had been. Caspian, too, did not seem so very young now either – his face was no longer that of a prince's but of a king's. The youngest queen smiled to herself, wondering if that was how she and Edmund had looked to the Narnians earlier in the day…

As the young men and the Dwarf disappeared from sight, the two queens again turned to Aslan. Morning light was slowly beginning to leak onto the great upper firmament, turning the sky a nondescript, gray, in-between sort of color. And low down in the east, Aravir, the morning star of Narnia, gleamed bright and close – almost like a little moon. Aslan, seeming to stretch and grow with the increasing eastern light, lifted his head, shook his mane, and roared.

Lucy and Susan, rushing to cover their ears from the blasting noise, could still hear the sound… it was deep and throbbing, at first like an organ beginning on a low note, then it rose and became more booming with each passing second until the air seemed to shake from it.

Laughing with glee, the Valiant Queen could imagine the men in Miraz's camp waking to the noise and, pale with fear, reaching for their weapons. Glancing sharply at the Lion, Lucy somehow could feel the effect that Aslan's roar was having upon their beloved kingdom… The nymphs and the river god rose from the water, the heads and slim shoulders of the naiads peaking out from the cold fluid while the great, weedy-bearded god of the river glanced about, wondering if Aslan had returned. Beyond, in every field and wood, rabbits rose from their holes, birds un-tucked their heads from under wings, owls hooted in reply, vixens barked, hedgehogs grunted, and the trees stirred as if a monumental wind had swept over the land in a single swoop.

Narnia was beginning to awaken.

In towns and villages, mothers held their children close, dogs whimpered, and men reached for lights, all of the humans gazing into the darkness with wild eyes. And even far away in the northern frontier, the mountain giants peered blearily out of the dark gateways of their castles.

Then, suddenly, the sound of Aslan's roar ceased and Lucy's awareness faded abruptly. Then, Susan was tugging lightly at the younger queen's sleeve, pointing at a dark something approaching them from almost every direction across the hills. First appearing as a sort of black mist creeping along the ground, then like the tossing waves of a black sea in a storm, rising higher and higher as it came nearer…

The woods were on the move.

Coming nearer, they appeared less like trees, and once they had all gathered before Aslan, Lucy realized that it was a crowd of human shapes, all come to greet them. The silver queen's heart felt nearly full to bursting in that moment; descendants of her old friends and dance partners had awoken at last from their slumber! The pale birch girls tossed their heads, and Lucy recalled her wild dances in the woods. The willow women pushed back their hair from their brooding faces, and the queen remembered her lengthy discussions on poetry with a willow. The queenly beeches stood still with adoring faces, and the twelve-year-old reminisced on the ethereal songs a beech once sang. Shaggy oak men brought back her advisor and country-dance partner… The lean and melancholy elms brought to mind the Narnian ballads she would be beg to be told. The shock-headed hollies (dark themselves, but their wives all bright with berries) were reminders of the jolly guests of banquets. Blithe rowans called back memories of her joyful friends…

All of the dryads bowed and rose again, shouting, "Aslan, Aslan!" in their various voices – alternatively husky or creaky or wave-like as the case may be.

The crowd and the dance around Aslan (for it had become a dance once more) grew so thick and rapid that Lucy was confused; she had never experienced a caper quite so swift and so crowded in her life (in Narnia or England!), but her light feet and her jubilee carried her through well enough.

Soon, Lucy espied other people frolicking about among the trees… One was a youth, dressed only in a fawn skin, with vine leaves wreathed in his curly hair. His face was almost too pretty to be a boy's, for it was soft and clear and delicately formed, yet a wildness was evidenced upon it… He appeared as though he might do absolutely anything, consequences be damned. His mob of girls – each as wild as he – were with him, as well as an old man on a donkey.

Everybody was laughing: and everybody was shouting out, "Euan, euan, eu-oi-oi-oi!"

The attractive – and dangerous, Lucy reminded herself – youth cried out, "Is it a Romp, Aslan?" And somehow or another… it was. Everyone was running about, each person behaving rather like the blindfolded person in Blind Man's Bluff… To Lucy and Susan's eyes, it appeared similar to so many children's games, but everyone was It and no one ever won or even seemed to want to win. And in the midst of all this, the old (and enormously fat) man on the donkey was calling out, "Refreshments! Time for refreshments!" and slipping off his mount and being bundled back on again by the others. Meanwhile, the donkey kept trying to display some sort of circus-like skills, attempting to walk on its hind legs for the romping crowd.

Also, vine leaves crept everywhere, climbing up the trees, tangling in the donkey's tail, even settling into Lucy's hair. Then, plump bunches of grapes grew from the vines – overhead and underfoot and all around.

Thus, to the old man's roars of "Refreshments! Refreshments!" everyone began eating the grapes. Lucy's eyes widened in delight as she bit into the fruit; they were firm and tight on the outside, but burst into cool sweetness when in one's mouth. The two queens had never had enough of such grapes before, yet here, there was more than anyone could possibly want and no table manners at all. Everywhere Lucy looked, she saw sticky and stained fingers, laughing mouths full of the fruit, and yodeling cries of Euan, euan, eu-oi-oi-oi-oi.

Suddenly, the entire crowd felt at the same moment that the game (whatever it was) and the feast should be over, so everyone flopped down upon the grass, breathless from exercise and laughter. As one, they turned to Aslan to hear what he had to say…

Before he spoke, the sun rose, peeping over the trees and reaching out to them all with warm, golden rays. Aslan faced the east where he stood, looking more noble and majestic than ever before…

And suddenly, Lucy was struck with a memory. "I say, Su," she whispered softly to her sister, gesturing towards the wild-looking bunch. "I know who they are."

"Who?" Susan asked, her dark curtain of hair falling forward as she leaned in to hear her sister's answer.

Reasoning it out, the silver queen replied, "The boy with the wild face is Bacchus and the old one on the donkey is Silenus. Don't you remember Mr. Tumnus telling us about them long ago?"

For a brief moment, Susan graced her sister with a humorous glance of reproach. "Yes, of course." Then, leaning in further to her sister, she began, "But I say, Lu—"

"What?"

"I wouldn't have felt safe with Bacchus and all his wild girls if we'd met them without Aslan," the older girl confided softly.

Grinning, Lucy replied, "I should think not." Looking up, the younger queen found herself face to face with the Lion himself. His warm, amber eyes stared into her own sea-blue ones, preparing her for the imparting of some knowledge or duty or some such.

"Lucy, dearest," the deep voice of the Lion began, "because of the choices made in this trip to Narnia, you have more work to do, but it will be more rewarding for you in the end, I think…"

Stalwart, the Valiant Queen nodded. "What do you require of me, Aslan?"

Though her voice was staunch and ready, Lucy was itching to follow after her brothers and the prince… She'd been away from them for too long. Caspian had been entrusted to her – placed into her care and she was feeling keenly as though she had somehow deserted him. And Edmund? He had been needed here… but what for? Was he well? Was he wounded? Did he require any of her healing cordial? And what of Peter? They had a moment earlier in the woods in which everything was forgiven between them… But Lucy felt that they still had much to speak of together before all awkwardness would be cleared away completely.

The Lion's rumbling laughter broke her from her musings. "You know what to do, dear one. Do what you feel you must… follow after Caspian, Peter, and Edmund. Be a balm unto their worries, Lucy. Make them and the Narnians whole again…"

Smiling widely, Lucy replied, "I will do everything in my power to do so, Aslan!" The Great Cat smiled again, butting her shoulder lightly in the direction of the How. Sending her sister a beaming wave, the Valiant Queen trotted to the Mound.

Susan, left behind, felt out of place. Bacchus and his wild girls were still in their company… Aslan was gazing at her with grave eyes… And she was all alone.

"We have much to speak of, you and I," the Lion said to her. "But for now, rest. In a few hours, we shall make holiday…"

Relief swept over the girl like a tidal wave. Susan had felt worried that Aslan might reproach her for her previous actions and words in the woods. Though her guilt still gnawed at her, the gold queen was sure that any more rebukes from the Lion would have brought her to tears, however much he said so with love.

The Gentle Queen nodded.

As she laid her head down, Susan supposed that they did have much to speak of… Closing her eyes, the Southern sovereign couldn't escape the intuition that she would not be traveling to Narnia again…

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