The Narnian Elf Princess

Chapter 3: Narnian Elf

It was nearly noon, by the time I reached the Professors studies and stood there nervously poised to knock on the door. Should I ask him about . . . my history, my past? I knew I was adopted but how did I get here? To be under this kind man's cared, for which he treated me like his own flesh and blood? I shifted my feet uncertainly, then sighed knocking on the door. I waited for a response till, "Come in!"

I opened the door to find Professors Kirkes on the lounge reading one of his medical books by the fire place. His wrinkle face lifted happily as he saw me, placing his book down, "Why Gwen, what a pleasant surprise. My dear, what can I do for you?"

Slowly shutting the door till a click was heard. Although, the floor seemed more interesting than the old man who I consider my father. The room was engulfed in an agonizing silence; the only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and Digory's heavy breathing, while the scent of tobacco could easily be detected. What to say, what to say to a professional, an older man full of logic and reason on personal matters? Something that was so devastating that it would break his heart?

"Gwen, is something wrong?" Digory asked worry in his voice.

"Aslan came into my dream again," I said looking up with watery eyes, to examine the excitement though fear in his wise old blue eyes. So I continued "He said . . . It's almost time for me to return… to Narnia?"

"Is that so," Father frowned petting a seat next to him. I accepted the offered invitation, sitting down next to him. We stayed silent for some time; uncomfortable silence waiting for death toll. "Father, is Narnia real?"

" . . . Yes my child, Narnia is real and not a story." He murmured, pulling out a small silk pouched out of his pocket and handed it to me, "I was going to give this to you on your seventeenth birthday."

Curious in what's inside the pouch to find a silver ring. Though it was quite unique; for the band was like vines securing a beautiful stone that I haven't seen before and yet it seems so familiar. I could possibly describe it like: twilight hues cascaded in willow vines, dusted in a winter frosted and shimmering, in winter's night.

There was more inside the pouch; I put on the ring and find another jewelry . . . a necklace. A silver dragonfly wraps around the sparkling diamond droplet. A single Swarovski dewdrop crystal, rested at the center of the rose petal band. Lifting the jewel into the light to see prismon colors that created a rainbow. However, something was embedded inside impossible to describe, difficult to read the engraving on the band. All in all, it was beautiful, nothing from this world.

"It's Elven Jewelry." Father explained as he help me put on the necklace.

"Elven?" I repeated "Like Professors Tolkien Elves? "

"Yes, magnificent divine creatures who lived in Narnia . . . Should I tell you how I was given such a lovely being?" He asked, nervously. I slowly nodding a yes. He coughed clearing his throat. "It was Sixteen years ago in this very room to be precise; that I was working on my lecture in roman humanism when a calmed breezed enter under a stormy night. The warm presences felt familiar until hearing a wild untamed voice. 'Digory, what friend have behold to you again.' I looked up across my desk to see Aslan. Aslan seemed to be caring something, something entirely valuable as he set it down. It was a woven basket, one I never seen before in its indicative detail."

As he said this, he stood up walking to the mantel to take down a white basket. Except it wasn't white, but pure silver that was detailed like the necklace, including my old baby blanket that of silver silk was inside. "I thought he brought me a present from Narnia . . . and he did.

"For when I got closer to him I heard stirring, a whimper. Curious I was, I moved the silk blanket to find a baby. So pale like the moon, I thought she was a goddess's daughter. Until Aslan said, 'Her name was once Gwengwyvar, Princess of Narnian elves. She was in duel with Jadis and cursed into this frail formed. Raise her as your owned flesh and blood until the time comes.' Before I could ask what he meant, to have a flashback of my past, why Jadis would dare harm an innocent child, he was gone.

"Gwen, you know my deceased wife past away during childbirth along with my son." Digory said. To which I nodded to his question, "Well, when I held you in my arms; I knew you were a gift from heaven. I fear this day would come. .. but Narnia calls for you."

He got up yet again and grabbed a leather case. I open it to find twin daggers. Not just any letter opener, but two actual fighting knives similar to a Dirk. However, these two daggers blades feature a silver tone color and full length tang of construction. The handles were made out of apple wood, stained to a deep burgundy red that reminded me of the wardrobe in the spare room; with vines shaped into Celtic knots designs and adored with cast metal guard and pommel. A trinity knot was also scribble to the blade. They came with Ivory color sheath and a leather belt.

"Father I-" flabbergasted by this gift.

"No child, these are yours. A last gift I want to give you." He said, "The handles are made out of the tree of protection, so you should be guarded if not protected closely."

Tears weld up in my eyes, instantly I hugged him. "Le melon Adar" (I love you father)

"I too, Tarren amin" (My princess)

Never before in my life, that I would discover the truth about myself. I wasn't human but an elf. And that sooner or later; I would have to return to my country.

.o0o.

It was winter and the ground is cover vivid in sold ice, white and grey, like brewery rainy skies upon the vast land behind two Peek Mountains. I found myself in a battle field, a bow in my hand, gazing at bodies in the snow. Some non-human while others similar to me all scatter around like a child fussed with their toys. Faun, satyrs, centaurs, griffins, bears, cheetahs, and more creature that symbolic peace and those of darkness; including my fellow brethren, my race in species, elves. Immortal maybe, however, a blade pierced in the heart of our enemy can definitely kill.

I walked toward the nearest body, fiering my arrows when an opponent dares charge at thee. An Elf, one who fallen to the jinx-witch. I knelt down upon the spoiled ground searching for life. The elf was no age between young or old wearing silver armor embedded with steel forest vines and Celtic marring. His hair, a slivery blonde, groomed, and elegant. Though, his skin cold and pale covered in blood.

My eyes traced the elf chest to find a pool of crimson blood upon his armor that filled a hole. A Diamond pendent laid beside deathly blow, it shield of illuminating light faded ever so slowly. My heart dropped in dismayed, mourned upon my fellow comrade, a king for title rested on his head of a silver crown. Anguished filled me to the brim, tears veiled upon thy sight though never fallen. As I held his majesties in my arms in dismay! Praying in native tongue, his soul to rest in Aslan country, and our leagued to him; than our homeland heaven in Valinor. I kissed his whiskered face, lips no longer warm but frozen cold, life already gone. For the glow of the crystal faded away . . . cleared and nothing more!

Another soldier came to join me, a centaur. His horse half in dark chocolate, his human skin olive tone wearing armor. He knelt before me speaking, although impossible to hear from battle cries and screams. What did he say? For I shook my head couldn't comprehend a single word. The warriors nodded while his action came to the elf king's lifeless onyx eyes letting them close. He did something unexpected too, by removing the king's crown then placed it on my own head. For I was royalty, follow by his necklace. But I slapped his hand the second after. Let the dead die with their valuables, his prices possessions. The centaur nodded, handing me over the dead king's weapon. A spear or was it a lances that was forged in sliver.

Above me across sacred lands, a woman . . . the White Witch dress all in white, her hair smeared with blood. She turned a young faun to stone by her crystal wand. Our eyes met in confrontation hers a deviant green, sinful and envy gazed into my innocent wise orbs of silver. We understood without verbal words that spoke our feeling, the chills of anger and frustration. For our conversation ended in battle shrews, in battle till death upon both our souls.

Though stop in the moment, caught a glimpse of dark blackness, turning around to see my next opponent. A tall man dress in black shredded robes under demonic armor forged in iron. His face hidden among darkness lied in his masked hood, along with an armor masked forge into a satanic demon. A broad ancient sword in one hand, while a mace in the other. I could sense the atmosphere of this creature was death, though human by appearance he was dead. He was a Nazgûl, a wraith: lost between life and death.

I could already hear the screams of his kill. Just facing him, we already know our destined future fate: forever enemies. One can't live if the other's alive, written in ancient stone, rest upon seers eyes. Forever be told among the lining and death. Except not in this battle, for the witch was next to fall. He nodded in understanding, swinging his mace on an enraged creature, smashing him to rumble hurling out a banshee scream.

.o0o.

Awaken in fear, in silent scream, covered in cold sweat from the nightmare. Was it really a nightmare or was it a . . . memory? For I could still remember the kings cold lips upon my own. The pumping antic heart beat producing a burning adrenaline through my thin veins. And the Nazgûl scream echoing in my ears. Could a memory of my old life be warning me for the future? For Aslan for told, I must return to Narnia as soon as possible.

I shuddered in fear; I grabbed my journal, sketching in the moon light of what the wraith looked like. Ridden shaken in fear, frighten in all evil. Once done in minutes, amazed of my talents, how detailed it confine of him. Writing Nazgûl on the next page beside it, sketching the broadsword and mace, describing notes about him.

"Either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives."

"Even the smallest light, shines in the darkness." A female voice whispered in my head; I shuddered looking around to find who said that. Except, the room was empty illuminated by the moonlight from the window.

It was late; deciding to go back to sleep when all of the sudden I hear footsteps. To hear Lucy excited voice at this time, it was close to midnight. I have a bad feeling; also it was my duty to investigate as hostess, of our guest stay. As I got out of bed, putting in my robe and see what the commotion was about.

"What's going on here? If Mrs. Macready finds you, you'll be one shenanigan shy of sleepin' in the stables." I yawed, till seeing Lucy hugging father with tear stained face. Father curious while the older Pevensie looked nervous waited for punishment.

"Oh, father, sorry for disturbing you at such late hour." I said shock so ridden. Father saw how pale and shaken hand I was that held the brass door handle. White knuckles exposed to critical point of stiffen joints.

"Oh, it's alright Gwen - I'm sure there's a logical explanation. But I think this one needs some hot chocolate." Digory said then looked at my disposition. "Are you feeling well? You looked like you've seen a ghost?"

"Ni-Nightmare is all." I stuttered seeing Peter face full of worry. I shake that thought aside for it must be exhaustion or I hallucinating.

Father nodded, gently guided Lucy towards me. "It seems you both need some hot chocolate."

With an obedient nod, I took Lucy hand, giving her an assuring smile as we headed toward the kitchen. Together we made hot chocolate and sitting by the window enjoying our hot beverages.

"Father once told me hot chocolate turns sorrows to tranquility." I said taking a sip of the sweet chocolate liquid.

Lucy nodded taking a sip of her, though with a chocolate mustaches on her lips. I chuckled and wiped it off her face with a napkin. Although sadness was written in her hazel blue eyes in the desperation of family attention! The need of somebody to understand her in this family dispute? The war has most definitely caused some damages already from physical condition in London down emotional one here. I sighed and thought of something. Maybe asked more of her about Narnia. For I believe that is the cause of this unfortunate event.

"So how was Narnia?" I asked

Her eyes widen shock, dropping her cup as it spilt in a brown puddle. I stand back quickly to fetch a rag to wipe up the spill before it hit the ground.

"You still believe me?" She exclaimed.

I nodded, tossing the drench rag into the sink. Then washed my hands "Yes, I most certainly believe in you, Lucy Pevensie. I know you're not lying and you seemed a bit mature for your age to be that elusive." I said poking her in the belly.

"Really," Lucy giggled from the tickle.

"Aye, even I have a Narnian secret." I chuckled, as I grab a cookie, taking a bite "But can you keep a secret?"

"Yes, of course." She replied.

"Not to your family or another being; unless require in dangerous situation." I asked acting so serious like it was life or death. I knelt down to her height, close to her hear, receiving a nod. Then I whispered my secret to another mortal.

"I'm a Narnian Elf, Lucy Pevensie; by royal blood!"

Lucy response was a little gasp of utter shock.

.o0o.

I decided to take Lucy to the stables to ride Thor. It was lovely weather and the best possible solution was to keep the Pevensie separate for a moment. Along with Lucy; she begged me to see Thorn with her puppy eyes. I chuckled in how adorable she was that it was impossible to say no to the little girl.

Walking in the stables, we found Thorn eating some hey in his stall. The scent of manure filled the air that Lucy grabbed her nose. I shook my head taking Thorn out of his stall and tied the reins to a post. Then I gave Lucy a brush to groom Thorns fur while I muck the stalls. Lucy happily obliged, though I warned her not to get to close from behind. Lucy nodded rapidly and brushed Thorns neck. I shook my head, grabbing a shovel and started cleaning the stall.

Thorn neighed causing Lucy to giggle happily.

"So here you two are?" Peter announced as he came in.

Lucy didn't respond. She was still upset about her siblings not believing and unnecessary scolds. I would frown as well, but I kept a straight face.

"Can I help you Peter?" I asked and threw the shovel in the wheelbarrow.

Peter shrugged, "I was just wondering where Lucy was."

I rolled my eyes, not buying his word completely. Peter sighed and walked to the wheelbarrow, picking up the shovel. "Need help?"

"A city boy mucking," I said raising a brow while crossing my arms. "Are you absolutely sure you want to?"

"We had a dog before, how hard is it." Peter stated and started shoveling poo and damp hay off the ground. I leaned against the stall to watch this, this ought to be good. Peter started well in the beginning for a minute until he wasn't watching his step. He accidently back stepped into some poo, causing him to slide. I chuckled and removed my sweater and got behind him. Wrapping my hand around his and corrected his stance.

"You got to start from the corner and get your way to the back." I instructed in his ear. "Also, loosen your hold. The shovel is not goin' to kill you. And lift from your knees not from your back."

Peter blushed and did what I say. I smile in approval and went to check on Lucy who was still grooming Thorn.

"Lucy, why don't you go back to the manor and asked Betty for an apple?" I asked.

"Oh absolutely," Lucy said and scurry back to the manor to get an apple.

I chuckled once more to her childish behavior, "She's cute."

"I couldn't agree more," Peter said. "Sometimes she gets her energy from our father."

The stables became tense after mentioning of Mr. Pevensie. Susan told me their father was a professor who was called away to war. Edmund also mention how Mr. Pevensie disliked telephones as did many people did. It was a complicated process with the operator and person you're trying to reach. So I changed the subject since I don't know Peter thoroughly.

"How old are you, Peter?" I asked.

"Sixteen," Peter answered wiping the sweat off his brow. "And you?"

"Sixteen as well," I answered.

"Really, I thought you were younger." Peter replied tossing the shovel in the wheelbarrow.

"Lot of people says that," I said which Thorn neigh in agreement. "It's funny how we look younger compare to our age in this generation."

"You're telling me," Peter agreed. "Um, so what do you do here for a living than studying and caring for the horse?"

"Well, I either help around the manor or work on my fencing and archery." I answered.

"You fence!" Peter was shocked to hear this.

I chuckled. "Of course, what did you think I do; brush my hair?" I asked raising a brow. We both laughed from comparing me to Susan. Don't take me wrong, I like Susan, it's just she too well manner, if not mature for her age. "I'm not entirely accurate on fencing, but descent as my mentor told me. Although, I got addicted to Archery at the festivals."

"How come we haven't seen you in action?" Peter asked.

"Because Mrs. Macready wanted me to be a lady in front of guest." I answered. "Don't get me wrong, but I'm not all that innocent I turned out to be."

"Really," Peter challenged.

"Yes, why do you think there's a rule for 'no improper use of the dumbwaiter!" I said.

Peter chuckled, "So, you're the cause of all, these rule the Macready established?"

I placed a hand over my heart shock if not playfully hurt. "What, from lil' ole' me?"

We chuckled again when Lucy came in with an apple and gave it to Thorn. Thorn chomped on that fruit quickly that you could barely blink. We chuckled again from the horses hunger before grabbing the saddle so Lucy could have a ride. Peter was very cautious standing next to Lucy as she sat on the saddle while I held the reins. Today was a good day, I think.

"I wonder if there are unicorns in Narnia." Lucy asked aloud to me.

Peter stiffens as he stared at me for an answered. I sighed and scratched my head. "Probably Lucy, if Strawberry had wings then there must be unicorns."

"Too bad for the winter that the White witch cast upon," Lucy pouted a little sad.

"Yeah, too bad." I whispered.

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