Author's note: Hi guys! I still don't own Narnia, sadly. Normally I like to keep my notes short and sweet. However, since we begin to see more of a characterization of Christina, I thought I should confront the "Mary-Sue" warnings that every story and every character gets at some point. I have done my best to make Christina as real as possible. I think (i HOPE) in the next coming chapters you begin to see her real development, in which she is not a tough, spunky girl with a soft side, but a confused, scared, lost girl who did not ask to be thrown into a war among people she is not affiliated with. Alright, I'm done now! Thank you for continuing to read, let me know what you think!
She jumped off the giant slab of stone and ran out of the cave, not even waiting for me. I got to my feet and ran after her, my heart pulsing in my ears. I followed Lucy into the dull gray light and stopped about ten feet behind her as I watched who came back from battle.
An overwhelming sense of grief washed over me when I looked at the warriors.
Peter and Caspian were leading the pack, with Edmund and Susan right behind them. But what scared me the most was the fact that more than half of those who had left the night before were no longer there. Everyone's face was a mask of sadness and loss, except the Prince and the High King.
Peter looked furious, like he was about to literally kill someone on the spot.
Caspian's face was cool and collected, but his eyes were black pools of depression.
"What happened?" Lucy asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. Honestly, I was scared to hear the answer. Peter's scowl deepened and he glared straight ahead. "Ask him." Everyone knew he was talking about Caspian.
A strange urge to stand up for Caspian arose in me when I heard Peter say this. Why was Peter blaming him? Sure, Caspian had his part in this, but it wasn't only his fault. Peter was the one who decided to go to Miraz's castle! If it was anyone's fault, it was his.
Let's be fair here. Listen to what they have to say.
"Peter," Susan warned.
"Me?"
Peter turned around and faced him, his chest puffed out and his nose up arrogantly. I saw Caspian's calm exterior slowly give way to fury. A confrontation was about to happen, everyone could sense it.
"You could have called it off, there was still time," Caspian defended himself.
Fire flashed behind Peter's eyes and I was surprised that he hadn't punched anyone yet. "No, there wasn't, thanks to you. If you'd kept to the plan, those soldiers might be alive right now." I glared at the back of Peter's head. How dare he blame Caspian for the death of those people!
"And if you'd just stayed here like I'd suggested they definitely would be," he raised his voice.
"You called us, remember?" Peter snapped irritantly. He was wrong, and he knew it. "My first mistake," Caspian muttered coldly, glaring down at the High King. "No," peter shook his head, "Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people."
"HEY!"
I flinched at the harshness and volume of Caspian's voice. He was so angry; I was truly scared of him right now. Peter turned around, shocked that someone had the audacity to shout at him. Good for Caspian, Peter deserved it.
"I am not the one who abandoned Narnia."
"You invaded Narnia," Peter growled, pointing an accusing finger at the prince, who looked utterly sick with just standing there. Caspian pushed past Peter while the blonde haired one continued to yell at him.
"You have no more right here than Miraz does."
Ouch, that was harsh.
Caspian clenched his teeth and continued walking, determined to be the bigger person here. I couldn't help myself; I scooted away just a tad when he passed me. He was so angry, so although I felt terrible about what Peter had said, I didn't want to bug him now.
"You, him, your Father, Narnia is better off without the lot of you!"
My breath hitched in my throat as I heard this. Wasn't Caspian's father dead? Didn't Peter know that? I knew he was angry, but he had no right to go talking about caspian's father. He didn't even know his father.
I clapped my hand to my mouth to refrain from screaming in terror as I heard both Caspian and Peter let out roars of anger and unsheathe their swords, pointing them at the other's throats. "Stop it!" Edmund yelled, attracting attention to him.
"Oh no," I whispered to myself, seeing what was happening behind the fight between the boys.
Glenstorm was carrying a limp Trumpkin, who was the dwarf who had been in the clearing with the Kings and Queens the first day I had been here. With Edmund and Susan's help he was laid gently on the ground.
Lucy rushed forward, pulling out the small bottle on her belt.
Kneeling beside the injured dwarf, she uncapped the little vial and dropped a single drop into his mouth. Caspian had put his sword back in the sheath at his waist and was storming away into the howe, not even concerned about the poor dwarf's safety.
I only glanced at Caspian for a second before I turned my attention back to the hurt Narnian. He was now leaning up on his elbows and observing the scene around him, a look of agitation plain on his face.
"What are you all standing around for? The telmarines will be here soon enough."
Sadly, everyone filed into the howe, going their spate ways to greive.
"Thank you, my dear little friend," I heard Trumpkin say to Lucy before I left. I honestly didn't feel much grief; I didn't know any of the people who had died. But I'd be lying if I said I was completely unaffected. Knowing that fact that anyone had died at all, especially fighting for their country, filled me with sadness and an odd feeling of pride in that person.
After wandering the caves for a little while I found the cave I slept in and flopped onto the mat.
Poor Caspian. He didn't deserve to be attacked by peter like that. Quietly, I promised myself that I would offer my apologies for what the rude king said and tell him that I honestly didn't think it was his fault, in hopes of cheering him up. Even though I know it won't, it's worth a shot.
With that decided I laid my head on the pillow and drifted to sleep.
I awoke to the sound of a loud, painful howling echoing through the caves.
I jolted up and looked around, wondering what on earth that noise was. The cave was dark and I was still the only one in here. Carefully, I got up and tip toed to the tunnel outside the room. It was deserted. My heart pounding in my chest and my breathing short and shallow, I left the room, looking for whatever had made that noise.
As I wandered closer to the main cave, I heard yelling and another howl.
My eyebrows knit together as I followed the noises. Was Miraz's army here? Were we under attack and I had just slept through the beginning of it. I hoped that was not the case.
The noises stopped, just like that. The tunnels and caves were eerily silent as I held my breath and froze, waiting for some noise to meet my ears. When it did, it was the sound of something crumbling to the stone floor.
Was the roof caving in?
Before I had time to answer my own question, quick footsteps were coming my way.
I held my breath and pressed myself against the wall. Whoever it was would still see me, but I hoped that staying out of their way would prove to be sufficient enough to let me live. The footsteps got closer and closer and my heart beat faster and faster.
Edmund came into view, rushing around the corner.
"Edmund? What's going on?" I demanded, stepping away from the wall.
The poor boy looked as if someone had just stabbed a puppy, threw it in front of a car, and then said it was all his fault. He looked so pained and angry and sad….just looking at him made me want to cry.
All he did was glance at me then continue walking without acknowledging what I had said.
A small burst of my own anger formed and I chased after him, refusing to be ignored.
"Edmund? Edmund….don't ignore me! What the hell happened?" I called after him, practically running to keep up with his brisk steps. Suddenly he stopped and whirled around to face me, anger the dominant emotion at the moment.
"I can't get away from her! Nothing I do is good enough and I just can't get rid of her!"
I stepped back, shocked and confused by this hopeless, angry, confusing declaration. What was he talking about? Curiosity burned inside me, but the second I saw tears of anger welling in his eyes I decided not to speak.
Instead I just stood there, watching him stare at me for only a minute longer before he practically flew into the main cave and out the entrance of the howe.
I was still frozen there, trying to sort out all Edmund had said when Lucy and Trumpkin came from the same direction as Edmund had only a minute ago. They both seemed surprised to see me. "Oh, hello Christina. You've met Trumpkin, haven't you?"
I looked down and took his hand, shaking it. "Nice to meet you," I muttered.
"Lucy, what's wrong with Edmund?" I asked, looking her in the eyes. She looked down. I could tell she didn't want to tell me what was wrong with her brother, but she had to. I already knew something was wrong, I just didn't know the details.
"Come, I'll tell you in my room." She said goodbye to Trumpkin and took my hand, pulling me to her cave. We sat down on the mat and I stared at her, waiting for her to start.
"Have you heard the story of how we first got here?"
I furrowed my eyebrows, not sure what this had to do with it, but nodded my head.
"Well, Aslan brought us here to fulfill the prophecy. The two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve overthrow the evil white witch and save Narnia from eternal winter," she began. "Yeah, I know the story," I told her, trying to urge her to get to the point.
"Well, I don't know if you know this, but Edmund was the "traitor" as most legends put it."
Mel hadn't told me that part of the story. I had no idea Edmund was the one who had betrayed the Pevensies and told the white witch where they were and that they were planning to stop her. I didn't know Edmund was the one Aslan sacrificed himself for.
That changed a lot.
"Yes, I know," Lucy whispered, seeing the realization on my face.
She then proceeded to tell me all about his emotions during the "Golden Age". How he never felt like he was good enough and always strove to be better, to prove that he wasn't a traitor and that he deserved to be a King.
"And he was doing a lot better…until today."
"What happened, Lucy?" I asked again, quietly.
"Knickabrick, the other dwarf that was friends with trumpkin, convinced Caspian to make a deal with a hag and a wolf. All three of them were supporters of the white witch. By making that deal with them, he almost brought her back to life."
"How'd he do that?"
She told me how the witch had been able to reach one hand out through the ice and how they had cut Caspian's palm and told him to touch her. If she had come in contact with one drop of a human boy's blood she would have been brought back to life.
"Lucky Peter heard the talking." She murmured.
After another twenty minutes of describing what had happened, I sat on her mat in front of her, speechless. I felt nothing but sympathy and pity towards Edmund, and pure fury towards Peter and Caspian.
"Come on, let's go practice."
She grabbed my hand and pulled me up. "Why would we practice now? Shouldn't we find Edmund and make sure he's ok?" She smiled sadly at me as she led me to the weapons room. "I know you want to help, Christina, but Edmund needs some time alone right now."
I sighed. She was right.
After we set everything up in the clearing I pulled on the leather gloves and arm guards. Then I stood on my mark and took aim. I couldn't focus, all I thought about was how awful I felt for Edmund. And how terrible Caspian was, for almost bringing back the one woman who almost ended Narnia.
I didn't even realize I had let go of the arrow. Until I heard Lucy sigh.
"You're too distracted," she stated, hands on her hips. "What do you expect me to do? I'm surprised you're not more upset by this. Edmund is your brother, you know," I replied, looking at her. She crossed her arms. "I know, but there are more important things going on right now."
"Like what?"
"Miraz's army is coming here. To fight us! With hundreds of more men then we have."
A chill settled in my bones and I my breathing sped up. "What?" I wondered, hoping what she had said wasn't true. "Yes, I know. We're going to need everyone we could possibly get, including you."
I froze, staring at her.
Me? She wants me to fight in a war?
My hands became cold and clammy, and raked my fingers through my hair. "Lucy, I can't fight! I-I'm from New York! The worst fight I've ever been in was kicking my sister and pulling her hair!" I wailed, feeling dizzy.
"I know."
"No, I don't think you do! In case you haven't noticed, I get sick at the sight of blood. A simple little spider scares the crap out of me! I am not a fighter, I am a stay in your small little corner and just get through life kind of person!"
My breathing was becoming short and labored.
I couldn't believe she actually wanted me to fight.
I sat on the grass and pulled my knees to my chest, burying my face in my hands. The image of me, thrusting a sword into a man's gut was replaying over and over in my mind. My stomach twisted painfully and I almost cried out in pain, pleading my brain to stop the image.
A hand appeared on my shoulder, and I flinched away from it.
"Christina, I know," Lucy whispered, settling herself down to me.
"Lucy, I can't fight in a war. I just want to go home," I muttered brokenly, still very nervous about the mere thought of battle. "Did I ever tell you the first time I came to Narnia I was only 11?" I looked at her, a lump forming in my throat as I realized I was about to cry.
"No," I choked out.
"I was only 11. And I watched Aslan get stabbed on the stone table by the white witch."
I clenched my teeth. I couldn't deal with gory words like stab right now. My mind was way too vulnerable. "I was only 11 when I saw my brother almost die from a stab wound inflicted by the white witch."
Edmund.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Why couldn't she just drop this? Why couldn't she just wander through the woods with me until we found Aslan? And then I could go home and he could help them stop the war.
"You know, I grew up in Narnia. I spent close to 15 years here, during the "Golden Age" as they call it," she told me, a reminiscent smile on her face. "I saw more than one war, and I saw countless men lose their lives."
"Lucy, can we please stop talking about this?" I asked, trying to make my voice as even as possible. "All I'm saying is, I know what's going through your mind now, Christina. I know you're not a fighter, I know you don't think that you could kill a man, and I pray to Aslan that you don't have to."
I looked up at her, my eyebrows furrowed and my jaw clenched painfully.
"But I do want you to know, that I know exactly what you're going through. I came from a town in England. Granted, it was during world war 2 and I had seen people die, but I had never killed a person before. And if you need someone to talk to, I'm here."
"I'd rather not talk, I'd rather just not do." I mumbled, regaining a bit of my composure.
We sat in silence for a few awkward seconds. That image played through my mind over and over and over. Finally it became too much. "I'm really tired, so, if you don't mind, I think I'll go take a nap," I stated, standing up quickly.
She nodded, looking up at me sadly.
"Do you need any help with picking the stuff up?" I asked, looking around at the equipment
"No, you go ahead."