Chapter Thirty-Three: The Darkness of the Fallen

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~ Narnia ~

Everyone was tense as they sailed toward Dark Island, wondering what they would encounter. No one spoke much to another; no one bothered saying goodbyes or farewells or good fortune. No one wanted to; it would be like they were thinking and resigning themselves to the fact in their minds that they would surely fail, and none of them wanted to think of that. So they busied themselves with mindless tasks, checking armor and weapons, bows and swords. Drinian discussed the guidance of the ship with Rynelf, as if he was preparing the second mate just in case something happened to him. In all truths, he was. But it wouldn't help to say that aloud.

Susan took charge of the children, bringing Gael with her to the cabin so that the little girl and Rilian would not be in the way of the men and Narnians or distracting anyone from the coming venture. She passed Lucy while going to the cabin. She gave her sister a confident smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder, the best she could do given the situation. Susan made no promises nor acted like she could. Lucy's eyes held fear, which Susan had seen few times in either of their lives, and it frightened the older woman, though she made no mention of it.

"What's going on? I'm scared," Gael whimpered as Susan closed the cabin door behind them.

"Shh, darling, it's going to be all right, it will be fine," Susan whispered consolingly to the little girl, pulling her close and stroking her hair in as motherly a fashion as she could. She turned her eyes toward the ceiling; by Aslan she prayed that everything would be fine.

~|:Xo0oX:|~

Edmund cursed inwardly when he realized his hands were shaking too much for him to buckle the armor over his shirt. He stared down at his hands, wondering why, all of the sudden, he was so nervous. He'd been in dozens of wars and battles; this shouldn't be any worse. The stakes were no greater than the Winter Revolution or the War of Deliverance. He was fighting for Narnia, not his sister's honor or Peter's life; he wasn't trying to defend anyone but Narnia; that fact in itself should be consoling to him; he'd always jumped at any chance he could to defend his country.

"Here, sometimes we could all do with some help," Caspian said with a wavering smile, which vanished as soon as Edmund looked at his face. He reached out and finished the last several buckles for Edmund before doing the same with his own.

"Thanks," Edmund answered, getting Caspian's attention, making him pause.

"I understand being afraid; I am now," he replied, looking down at one of his hands, which was shaking almost as much as Edmund's. With a quick inhale, he closed his fingers over his palm into a fist. "I've been scared often in my life, though I never really dwelt on it much until now. I've never thought of dying, truly dying, until now, either. War and fighting always seemed to come at me, and I fought it in a haze, not really thinking. Now I've had so much time to think that I've thought of every single way this could fail – or succeed." Caspian turned away.

"I've done the same, but I didn't realize that was why I was feeling this way; it explains a lot." Edmund smiled through the tension.

"Yes," Caspian smiled once again in return, but it failed to reach his eyes. He turned away, fiddling with something of miniscule importance. "Edmund," Caspian turned back to him.

"What?" He looked up from buckling the swordless belt around his waist.

"I want you to know, whatever happens in this – black void – I think of you as a brother, everything else aside. And what happened on Deathwater Island is… forgotten and forgiven." For some reason Caspian could not meet Edmund's eyes, so he stood there, feeling at a loss for further words.

"For me, too."

Caspian looked up, slightly surprised.

"We weren't exactly thinking clearly on that island, and I don't plan on ever holding that between us. Friends – or brothers – don't hold things between them to create rifts," Edmund elaborated. Caspian nodded, turning to pick up Rhindon.

"You gave up your sword," he remarked casually after several seconds' silence; as if noticing this fact for the first time.

"Well, it wasn't mine to keep," Edmund replied, reaching for his torch which he'd laid on a nearby table. He fingered the slight dent in the flashlight, a memento of sorts, from the castle raid that had begun and ended so badly.

Caspian stared at Peter's sword, glancing at Edmund, who was lost in thought. "Take Rhindon," he decided aloud, holding the sheathed weapon out to Edmund.

"I can't– it's, just– Peter gave it to you," Edmund stopped stuttering, took a long inhale, and said the words matter-of-factly, trying to remain logical to remind himself what holding his brother's sword would mean.

"I know, but, well, I felt that when I promised to look after it for him – and Narnia as well – I always felt that I would be guarding it for him; but when he was not to return, I felt that I was keeping it safe for you to bear someday. It's never felt like 'my' sword, in the sense of the word, even after all these years. He would want you to have it, I believe, were he able to have a vote in the matter," Caspian insisted, still holding out the weapon to Edmund.

Edmund swallowed, biting his lip as he stared at the blade he dearly wished to hold. It felt like he was moving in a haze when he finally reached for it. Caspian held onto Rhindon for a second longer than was necessary, nodding slightly at Edmund in recognition before releasing it to him. Edmund smiled at his friend as he slid the sword into the buckles at his side.

He didn't think Caspian would ever understand the meaning of holding the sword, so he didn't bother explaining himself. But one thing Caspian did understand was a look of acceptance; he had felt that himself; seeing it in Edmund made him feel closer to the other king in a way he could never have been with Peter, because they both understood the need to be accepted, to belong. Something Peter would never feel.

~|:Xo0oX:|~

Lucy entered the cabin she'd shared with her sister, searching for her dagger and cordial. Gael was playing with Rilian, who was crawling on the bed under Susan's watchful eye. Lucy was unaware of Gael's steady gaze as she buckled on the belt with her dagger and cordial attached.

"When I grow up, I want to be just like you."

Lucy started a bit, but the look on her face was not one of surprise when she met Gael's gaze. Susan smiled at her sister's reply. "When you grow up, you should be just like… you." The youngest Pevensie sat down on the edge of the bed and slid her arm around Gael's small shoulders in a simple, sisterly hug, like the ones she remembered Susan giving her when she had been small.

Slowly, with some reluctance, Lucy rose from the bed and moved toward the door of the cabin. She knew that Susan would be out there with them if not for the children, but she wished that she didn't have to face the Island either. She wanted to be safe in a cabin locked behind a strong door with kings and Narnians between her and the danger. But adults had to be brave, and she had to realize this once more.

"Lucy," Susan spoke up quickly, leaving the chair next to the bed and following after her little sister; who was truly a braver woman and better queen than she could ever be. Lucy turned back at hearing her name called, wondering what Susan wanted.

"I love you, and I could never do half the things that you have done for this family. You're so good; sometimes I'm jealous of your faith. You'll always be the leader of this family of ours; even though Peter's the High King, you're the one who led us into this world first, and the happiness – yes, Peter and Edmund can't deny they have been happy, as am I – we have, or had, is owed to you and your belief in Aslan. We would be so lost without you, I would be," Susan admitted earnestly, bringing Lucy into a tender embrace.

Lucy was stunned by this admittance; to think that she was the one who had thought Susan better than her! She had always been comparing herself to her older sister's elegance and beauty, but here was Susan saying it wasn't beauty or manners that she was envious of but her faith and character. Those words touched Lucy in a way she couldn't fathom, so she did the only thing she could possibly do in return in that moment; she hugged her sister back. They parted, Susan quickly wiping away sentimental tears, and Lucy smiling in a forlorn manner before turning and exiting the cabin.

~|:Xo0oX:|~

Caspian joined Edmund and Lucy, who were standing next to Drinian at the helm, after finding a sword for himself in the weapons locker. He was glad he had brought his usual sword along on this voyage; at least he was familiar with it. He hated to be holding an unfamiliar sword in his hand in the heat of battle; it made for unfortunate circumstances, even death in rare cases. He also brought one for Eustace, since he noticed the boy didn't have one and was only holding a dagger. He handed it to the boy before coming to a standstill beside Edmund.

"What do you suppose is in there?" the Just King asked, staring into the looming void which was rapidly becoming too close for possible comfort.

"I don't know," Caspian whispered, blinking several times as he stared at the island. He had never felt such fear in his life, and it terrified him to realize he had no idea, not an inkling, of what he was going up against, what he had put his men up against. Who knew what lay in there? The Stars hadn't even been able to tell him, and they were the wisest things on Lumea before Aslan!

Below them, the men and Narnians standing at the ready were starting to shift in their places uneasily as they drew up to the island. Some began whispering amongst one another in concerned, hushed tones. "Caspian, speak to them, they need to hear something encouraging from you!" Edmund hissed, nodding his head in the direction of the rail in front of them. "I'd speak to them myself, but you know what little good that would do; they'll trust my words about as much as I'd trust some strange magician who claimed he could magic himself into a dragon and back again," Edmund whispered, glancing at Caspian.

"What can I possibly say? That I've no idea what I've done and whether or not we'll live? Oh yes, that's very inspiring!" Caspian shot back tensely.

"Don't pull one of Peter's excuses on me now; I won't stand for it! Bloody think of something. I've heard some of your speeches, and the last time I was here, a Talking Animal told me of an especially inspiring one in the Shuddering Woods. Can't you replicate that, with something new and different for the situation? Men only fight for someone if they believe in him!" Edmund whispered under his breath knowingly.

"Very well, but if this does not help, and I say words for nothing, it's you who will be responsible, not I!" Caspian threatened, moving forward with a bit of hesitance in his stride.

"What did you tell him to get that fire in his eyes? I haven't seen him so directed since the War of Deliverance!" Lucy whispered, coming up beside her brother.

"I knew that if I harped on him enough, he'd lose his temper; it really is a terrible habit. I told him to speak to them, to encourage them. So that's what he's doing," Edmund explained, smiling slightly with triumph as Caspian began talking.

Caspian stared down at the men before clearing his throat and getting their attention. "Narnians," he paused, making certain they had heard him. They had. Every single sailor turned to him, waiting expectantly. "Narnians, today we face a great peril, but we are not strangers to such a thing. Many of you I fought alongside in the war against Calormen and the War of Deliverance, and we know that size and strength do not matter. What matters is courage and loyalty, but not to me."

The sailors seemed to pay real attention to him after he said that, leaning forward slightly, staring at him intently with eyes that began to glimmer with small flecks of hope.

"Loyalty to each other and to Narnia, for Aslan, is what matters. In this voyage, we have come across many a strange thing: creatures, enchantments, and evils. All of you have proved your loyalty by standing with us against them. For this I commend you; you have proven your worth as friends and as followers of Aslan. Though we have feared, we have overcome and moved on; none of you tried to find some excuse as to why we must return to Narnia; in fact, when once I asked you if we should turn back, you insisted we continue east.

"I find no fault with such bravery. And not a single man standing before me can I condemn; I can only encourage you as best I can. I cannot promise success for this final adventure, but I cannot promise failure; I do not know what is coming; this is the honest truth, and I put it before you. I have led you this far and hope that Aslan will lead us the rest of the way. I know that you trust in Aslan, and I am content with knowing you rely in him more than in me, for kings may fail and men may lie, but Aslan is constant, true, steadfast, and sure.

"Whatever takes place in this darkness, I believe that songs will be sung of your bravery for many years to come and throughout every Age, and stories will be told of the sailors of the Dawn Treader who were not afraid to stand with Aslan as their guide and protector in the face of the unknown. Keep your strength; hold fast your faith. Forget I am your king; I do not want you fighting for me, but for Aslan and for Narnia, for those behind us who await our return; fight so that they might remain free and safe in future years. For Narnia and for Aslan." Caspian turned away from the rail, not expecting the rousing shouts and cheers of the men below him.

He stopped, turned back to them, and smiled; their trust was infectious, their hope undeniable. They were brave men, but the guidance of a courageous, yet also humble king, was exactly what they needed to give them strength. Aslan had chosen the next monarch to sit on the Narnian throne well, but that was no surprise to Edmund, who stood watching Caspian with a small smile of support on his face. Aslan regarded a man's heart, not his countenance, when selecting a future ruler. Caspian had faults, but Edmund knew that mattered little, since he knew the right direction to go and to follow Aslan's path.

~|:Xo0oX:|~

With a feline elegance that mortals admired but was common among Stars and their kin, Arran dropped to Eustace and Reep's sides' from the rigging above them as the ship slid into the maw of the darkness that lay ahead. "Verda, Eustace. Do not fear or tremble; there is nothing before us that Aslan will not preserve us from," Arran rested his hand reassuringly on the boy's arm as he whispered the ancient word to quell his fear before speaking quietly of Aslan.

"I– I don't think I'm very afraid, just uneasy, Arran," Eustace whispered, staring wide-eyed at the blackness before him, gripping the hilt of the dagger in his palm tighter.

"That sword Caspian gave you, use it, not the dagger; remember, only use the dagger on something magic or immortal, like kin of mine. I wouldn't like to know the result of an accidental lunge," Arran warned.

"Okay," Eustace whispered, his voice sounding a little breathless as he focused all his attention on Dark Island.

"No fear and no retreat!" Reep declared confidently, brandishing his sword with a little flourish. Eustace jumped at the words that seemed unnaturally loud in the thick stillness that emanated from the edges of the darkness.

"Yes, exactly, wh-what he said," Eustace quickly agreed, pointing at Reep and trying to sound brave to convince himself.

"Verda, ni la atta fon anath, Kinador," Arran whispered, smiling at Eustace before taking his hand off the boy's shoulder and withdrawing from his side.

"What does that mean?" Eustace asked, turning sharply.

"I think you know; somewhere in your memory you hold traces of the knowledge of understanding my language from your time as a dragon. Try and remember. It will come to you; perhaps tomorrow, perhaps someday thousands of Narnian years from now; but remember you shall." Arran walked away from the Mouse and the boy, long blonde dreadlocks pushed back from his face in the wind of his path, revealing a small silver scar that ran down his neck and under his collar. Eustace remembered what Arran had told him of Mezelzaz and shuddered.

~|:Xo0oX:|~

The darkness slowly began to cover them as they sailed into the island. Drinian ordered Tavros and several other sailors to light the lanterns, which was not a moment too soon, for within minutes the darkness overwhelmed the seemed to crawl, slither almost, over the rails and up the mast toward the lantern braced at the top, as if it sought to quench the small flame that flickered there. Then, all around them a mournful sigh echoed on and on into the darkness. Like someone waking from a dream that they regretted leaving behind in the realms of sleep.

Everyone looked around them, at each other, at the water, which they couldn't see but could hear lapping eerily against the side of the ship. Suddenly a noise jarred everyone from their thoughts, coming from the left side of the ship. In the wood beneath their feet they could feel the keel of the Treader scrape against something. Caspian and Edmund were the first to the rail to inspect damage as everyone else grouped around them, craning for a glimpse, too.

A weathered masthead rose from the water, and in the murky gloom they could the rotting spar that had once held the sail aloft was scrapping and breaking off against the Dawn Treader as she glided by the wrecked vessel resting below the water. Caspian's eyes met Edmund's, both thinking the same question. Could the ship beneath the water's surface be the vessel of the seventh Lord – the Lord whose sword they needed to break this dark enchantment?

Edmund pulled his torch from his belt and played its beam out across the dark water toward the masthead, looking for something to give them a hint, but it was futile; the years had worn away whatever clues they might have been able to find.

That was when they heard it, a wail of terror from the shadows, a keen so high and full of anger that it caused everyone to shiver subconsciously at the sound. The words it screamed were unmistakable.

"Keep away! Turn back; do not let the terror come upon you!"

Caspian shouted for Drinian to steer the Treader toward the sound, which he did quickly. Everyone began scrambling around the deck anxiously, trying to find something to do or to prepare for whatever was crying out in the darkness. Edmund crossed the deck to the right, and if not for the light of his torch, might have crashed into Gavan, Zephyr, and Arran, who were already standing at the rail and peering into abyss beyond.

"See anything?" he asked nonchalantly before shining his light into the darkness.

"No, but something's wrong," Zephyr replied uneasily.

"Of course something's wrong; there's a man screaming in terror out there somewhere, and we don't know if it's genuine or a trap!" Rynelf muttered in annoyance, coming to the rail moments before Caspian and Serene did. Arran scowled at the sailor but said nothing. Lucy approached cautiously, trying to quell her unease at the cry. She had never liked to hear people in pain, which was why she supposed Aslan had given her the healing cordial.

"There!" Serene cried, stretching her arm over the railing and pointing at a rock that Edmund had just played his torch over. Something reflected the light in the darkness, which looked like a flash of lightning in the eternal night around them. Edmund's light shone upon a sword, which he followed to reveal the owner's hand, arm, and not long after, face and body.

The man was old but thin and lithe, as if he was used to sea life or had been an experienced adventurer once. His hair was a grey-black and fell about his shoulders wildly; it and his beard were unkempt and damp from the sea air. He jumped from rock to rock on his small island in the middle of the water, brandishing his sword high and pointing it at them while he continued to rant about demons and monsters, pain and losses, which they did not catch or pay attention to as they realized he held the sword they desperately sought.

"Lord Rhoop," Caspian whispered, before realizing what the man held. "It's the sword! he's holding the sword; he has the seventh sword!" he shouted, for a moment not able to comprehend anything other than that. Edmund whispered the words under his breath, along with about a dozen of the other crew members, because the words meant that their quest into the heart of this evil island was ended; they could break the enchantment and free the east from darkness.

While everyone came out of the trance to figure out how they could bring the Lord onto the ship, Caspian's outcry had a very different impact on the Lord. He stopped raving and stared across the water at them as if struck dumb. "My lord?" he called out hesitantly, cocking his head to one side and staring at the spot where he had heard Caspian speak from the shadows, where the king was now talking with Drinian.

At his words, Caspian turned back to stare at the man. "Aye, Lord Rhoop, I am your king, Caspian the Tenth, son of Caspian the Ninth!" he shouted back reassuringly.

"Oh, my lord, you should not have come here!" the man cried. Even as he spoke he sheathed his sword, and in an instant, dove into the water and began swimming toward the ship.

Rhince and Timothy grabbed a rope and tossed it down to the Lord as he reached the ship's side. Like anyone eager to be removed from unbearable conditions, Rhoop climbed the rope as if his life depended upon it. When he arrived on deck, he stared at all the people around him, uneasy.

"Keep back!" Rhoop cried, pulling his sword from his sheath and waving it in warning at the crew, Lucy, and the Stars who had been trying to approach him. Quickly Caspian pushed through.

"Be calm, Lord Rhoop; we are all here to save you. One thing I ask, your sword, we have need of it, great need." Caspian's words seemed to soothe the man into submission, for he gave a small whimper of fear and disquiet before dropping the sword he held to the deck. Caspian quickly retrieved it and turned back to Edmund and Drinian. The Lord followed after him like a stray dog reunited with a beloved master.

"I thank you, my lord, for coming to my rescue, but you should not have! For it will be your death! No one can escape… Him! I know, I and my men tried until naught was left but I; do not think He will so lightly let you bring all this to an end!" Rhoop warned in a regretful tone, grasping Caspian's arm and pulling at his sleeve nervously.

"What do you mean?" Arran was quick to pounce upon the man, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from such close contact with Caspian and Edmund. He didn't especially like any of these mortals – excluding Eustace, of whom he had grown fond – nevertheless, they were his mortals, and no crazy old man was going to be given a chance injure them!

"Him, oh Him! Why do you think they cry out in pain and sorrow? Can you not hear them– can you not feel it?" Rhoop moaned abruptly, covering his ears with his hands and falling to the deck with a tortured howl. "They never stop; always they cry out, but I cannot save them; I cannot stop Him!" Rhoop raved, rocking back and forth.

Arran pulled back, staring at the man with something akin to horror coming over his fair features. "No, he's dead; I was told he died," the pirate whispered absently while leaning toward the man, reaching out and touching his lean shoulder.

"Off me, demon!" Rhoop suddenly thundered, pushing the Star's hand away roughly. "You will not play your tricks on me, not now!" the Lord bellowed, struggling back to his feet.

"What is he going on about?" Lucy asked, turning worried eyes to Serene.

"I don't know," the enchantress whispered, looking at the Lord with concern.

Suddenly all the Stars whirled, expressions of hate, disgust, and surprise on their faces as they turned toward the direction Rhoop had swum from. As they did, exaggerated clapping ensued. Everyone on board jumped at the sound. As they watched, a strange green light exploded upward, like a flare from a rocket gun. It gave the area an eerie light. Then, from out of nowhere, a large green shroud of mist rose up. Through it they could see a figure and light.

Once it had parted from the mist, it was easy to see the figure walking toward the water's edge from a bank of rocks. It was easy to see him because he glowed.

Like a Star.

A/N:

I have hit the eighty-review mark! Cheers and chardonnay to all! (...parties, I love parties, drinks all around!) Jack, go away, this is for Narnia, currently! :)

Well, what do you think? This is finally getting interesting, don't you think? Now, before I go on, I must do my usual.

Jesus girl 4ever is my beta, and she fixed quite a few of my (embarrassing, if I must say) mistakes in this chapter. She has truly been quite the help to me; I couldn't do what she's done! So, applause to her for helping me turn out a chapter with little to no mistakes!

Ok, I want to apologize to anyone who might have liked Caspian's speech in the VOTDT film. Because, truth be told, I always disliked it. Personally, I found it weak and lacking. The one I wrote seems just a bit more stronger and realistic, but, hey, you tell me.

So, um, I really changed the finding of Lord Rhoop, sorry there... (actually I'm not that sorry at all, I kind of liked mine better, considering that Eustace wasn't a dragon in the book and all) But that's just my prejudiced opinion.

I liked writing Caspian and Edmund talking, I always thought that that part in the movie was a bit awkward, you know? I guess what I'm trying to say is the dialogue seems a bit... stiff. I just didn't find it very well acted (not that I can do better, but I'm just saying that I know those two are much better actors, and that scene kinda flopped).

I think the fact that Arran, in spite of himself has become attached to all these people, even though he was only going with them to protect them. He's found himself liking them and feeling fond of them even after he didn't want to let that happen.

Random thought: I bet if Arran and Legolas were to ever talk, they'd feel much the same about their mortal companions.

Random thought 2: If you add up Arran, Gavan, Zephyr, Caspian, Edmund, Eustace, Lucy, Susan and Serene, (or take off the Stars and add Peter, Amalia, and Jill) that's nine friends. (I never knew that, weird, isn't it?) And I didn't even know it was nine people that made up the Fellowship of the Ring when I started this adventure. Kinda creepy, just saying.

Yes, I am aware that the section where the wrecked ship's mast scrapes against the Dawn Treader is a bit Pirates of the Caribbean reminiscent, but I wasn't trying to make it like that at all! The image of the wreck's mast and the dark water just would not leave my head.

I am also aware that this chapter may have been slightly shorter, but I'm going to try to keep the chapter length down. (Makes more chapters and frequent updates, which is kind of annoying, but not for you readers, I'd imagine.) So, please tell me what you think and leave your input, always nice to hear!

ILoveFanfiction:

I'm glad you liked how I introduced Ramandu, I really wish the filmmakers had put him in, because I always thought his character was awesome, and very mysterious, because of how much he must know, and so many of his lines in the book are inspiring and good, sage advice.

The one thing I won't regret the filmmakers doing is letting Caspian join the Pevensies when they walk up to the the wave that meets the sky. I always felt that he should've gotten to finish the journey with them, since he wouldn't ever see them again.

I always cry at that spot, and I'm not really a crier over films. But that, that gets to me. The fact that he considers them family, and that you know he'll never see them again in that life. And then Eustace has to ask if he'll come back, which also makes me sad, because he won't get to see Caspian again! Ok, I'll stop now!

But, anyway, things are warming up, I hope you enjoy this finale!

Happy reading! WH1492