Disclaimer: I did not raise a few million dollars and buy the rights to Narnia between last week and this one.
Beta'd by trustingHim17, with my thanks!
I'm publishing two chapters on the same day, because I think most people had enough of cliffhangers, no?
No one answers.
When Rilian opens the door, the room is empty.
It takes him a minute to process this, blinking as he looks around. The bed is made, the clothes she wore yesterday neatly folded on the chair, but Ileana herself is not in the room.
Rilian knows she did not walk past him the night before. She did not stay here last night.
You've lost, that squid had said. There's something still hunting her.
Something that attacked only when there were small groups of people—and Ileana had been alone.
Wait, Rilian thinks, breathing heavily. Wait. Don't jump to conclusions.
But act.
He turns, running down the hall and towards the room he'd taken the pillow from. Walking out from it comes a whistling Drinian. The whistle dies as he sees Rilian's face.
"My King?"
"Ileana is not in her room, and it doesn't look slept in." Apprehension falls over Drinian's face; Rilian tries to ignore it, so it doesn't feed his own. "I'm going to the armoury to send out people to look for her. You—can you try the kitchens? The watchtower. Wherever Peri is."
"At once."
"Get help. You'll need your strength if—if the search takes longer." Then Rilian's running down the halls, and it's familiar, it's so familiar he feels like choking. He tries to tell himself it's different, Drinian isn't gone, it might not be the same, he could be worried for nothing—
How often does fear turn out to be shadows, vanishing before the smallest light?
But—sometimes fears come true. Rilian knows it's a truth, has seen it happen in his own life, has felt the fear turn to despair too many times.
Aslan, he prays as he rounds a corner, dodging a surprised Mouse, let this be only fear's false whispers. Let her be found well and whole.
It only takes a few rapid sentences and the guards in the armoury split up for a systematic search. Rilian joins the three Bears searching the gardens, because he thinks that's the likeliest place. But somehow checking behind every bush and up every tree does little to negate the fear-fueled energy that keeps growing.
Every time Drinian comes from a different place and says, she wasn't there, it's proof that this isn't last time, it's unlikely she's been taken by someone bent on torturing her—right? It helps.
But every time Drinian speaks, Rilian also thinks: this isn't last time; there's no guarantee they'll find her. Rilian even sends for Jarmu and Piram, and they recruit the other Narnians to scour the caves on that cliff. The Turtles take the ones under the water.
Rilian wonders, lifting willow branches to check near the trunk, what his people think of searching for the same lady two weeks from their last time.
He plays with this particular thought because he doesn't want to think about the fact that it's been an hour and they haven't found her—which means she's probably not in Cair Paravel. This probably isn't a misunderstanding. She won't show up, panting and tired, at the end of the day with a surprise for Rilian to remember her by after she dies.
That isn't going to happen, I know how to save her now. I just need to find her. Rilian reminds himself he's not thinking about this. The dirt by the wall doesn't have any footprints, and Rilian turns towards the path.
I have three days to find her, to save her.
Last time it took four to find her.
Or maybe she's in water. She was last time. She'll stay alive till I can save her.
I'm not thinking about this.
Two hours later, Rilian wanders to the dungeons. He's sure the gardens have been thoroughly searched; there's nothing to find there. He finds Peri in the dark corridors, walking up to every cell door and peering into the shadowed corners. She's soundlessly crying. She jumps when he walks up beside her, and then hastily scrubs her eyes.
"I thought she might be here as well," Rilian offers, tone quiet. "Let's look."
They go down the entire hallway. There's nothing. Rilian opens the door to the next and motions her through; he moves on to check the next cell.
"She loves you," Peri whispers when they're halfway down, her on the left side, Rilian on the right. "You know that, don't you? She loves you so much."
"I know." Rilian reaches for the stone he still has in his pocket, along with a white shell and a diamond ring. "I love her back." He clears his throat. "When I find her, I'm going to ask her to marry me."
The sound of footsteps beside him cease, so he turns. Peri is crying again, her hand over her mouth. Her words come out muffled. "We have to find her. We have to. She has to know—you have to tell her that. She has to be happy again."*
Rilian nods and turns to sweep the next cell. He can hear Peri moving on the other side.
A Donkey finds them for lunch. They eat it quickly, tiredly, and look through the remaining cells. There is nothing.
When they go back up, the whole Cair has been searched, top to bottom, and the guards and servants have begun searching the woods, each group assigned a Narnian with a good nose, to see if there are any fresh scents. Rilian lets them go, but he stays in the courtyard, fingering the stone in his pocket, thinking.
He knows this may be hopeless. He doubts the Merfolk have anything that would work on land. But they don't even have a scent trail this time, and he has nothing else to follow, no one left to ask. Being a King taught him many things, not the least of which is this: the wisdom of asking for help from trustworthy people.
So Rilian heads towards the beach.
Standing on the sand, the sun beating down, he looks at the water, then the boats. But he knows the Merfolk are coming closer to land, coming to celebrate—so he leaves the boats and walks into the water, the stone clutched in his hand.
He doesn't get the chance to use it. The water laps his waist, only a little from shore, and a Mermaid's head is rising from the waves, looking towards the land. Golden hair with a few brown locks and very pale skin, she looks like the incarnation of a wave; Rilian wonders if he's imagining things. She sees him and instantly turns, arms arched, to dive back into the water, but freezes. She takes a second look over her shoulder; her arms lower.
Cautiously, Rilian takes a step forward. A frown furrows her face, but she doesn't dive, her head and shoulders still above the water. Rilian takes another.
"You look like someone we're coming to celebrate. Or at least what I've heard you look like. And I can't think of another mortal with reason to enter the water like this. You're not coming for a swim, you still have those funny foot covers on." Her voice sounds young, a little older than a child's, perhaps, but not yet a woman's.
"I am Rilian, bethro—" except he wasn't betrothed, not yet, he was only trying, and hoping to save her life at the same time—"Ileana's beloved. But I need to speak to her parents; are they near?"
"Why?"
"Because I need to speak with them."
Both her hands rise and fall at the same time, slapping the wave rushing around her. "Stop treating me like a child! I have every right to know what they do!"
"Lady—"
"I'm her sister!"
"What?" Rilian stumbles as the next wave hits him; of course, Ileana had mentioned a sister, but it hadn't occurred to him—
"I'm her sister. Mother and Father said she was well, that you intended to propose this morning, but I don't believe them, not quite; I want to see it. So I came toward shore to see for myself. Where is my sister? Why isn't she with you?"
"That is what I need to speak to your parents about."
"She didn't say no? Why would she do that? She's—"
"Please. Lady. Go get your parents. Now." He adds the last as a gentle order, because she's young enough she needs to listen, but he also has no time to waste here.
She's like her sister enough to hear him and the urgency in his tone, but she still pauses. "Why?" she asks, and it's not curiosity in her tone, it's a little bit of fear.
"Because I need their help. It is for Ileana's sake, and I ask that you go get them with all the speed you possess. Then, whatever they choose to tell you, you may hear."
She guides him for a moment more, then turns and dives. Closing his eyes, Rilian listens to the sound of the waves, the way it mixes with the gulls in the air. He closes his hand around the stone he didn't have to use, and lets her song fill his ears as well. His heart cries out for the singer, for the one who knows how the currents move, how the waves build and crash, who takes the entire ocean's symphony and fits it in the stone.
A discordant note sounds, water splashing, and he opens his eyes to see three Merfolk before him; her father, mother, and sister are there. They've emerged up to their waists. The father's skin is a darker colour, and his shoulders as broad as any man's. Ileana's mother's pure-white scales reflect the sunlight in a manner that almost blinds; the white skin of her arms almost fades into the scales where they meet at her shoulders. The sister's scales are blue-white, and her skin is darker, but her gold hair is the same as her mother and sister's.
"What is it?" the father asks, eyes searching. "You show nothing of the joy we expected."
"When I went to Ileana's room this morning, she was gone. Something has been hunting and hurting in Cair Paravel; we left guards with her, but—" The excuses in his voice, the pleading, are clear even to Rilian's ears, and he stops. "We have hunted for her all morning. We are still looking. Those who can smell have gone to her room and now scour the grounds. I have done all I know. I know it is on land, but is there anything you can do?"
"Do you still have her stone?" Illthee's question is urgent; she swims a stroke closer. "Is it on you?"
Rilian reaches into his pocket and holds up the stone. Illthee lunges, and cold, wet fingers crash over his own; then she is beneath the water, hands cupped over the stone, and Rilian has to fight his arm's instinctive swipe.
He does not want to lose that stone. To lose Ileana's voice.
Another splash, and ripples spread in the wave; beneath the water Rilian can see the Merman swim towards his wife. Face to face, tails laying behind them, they speak; Rilian can see the holes of their mouths under the water. Then his two hands reach forward and join her cupped ones, and together they hold the stone.
"It will be all right." The words sound timid, not at all as assured as Rilian would like. He turns, and the sister swims closer. "It—it will be all right."
The quaver makes her sound even younger, and Rilian tries to rally himself. "I do not believe I know your name yet, lady."
"Hetherra."
Rilian bows shallowly, keeping his head well above the water. "I am Rilian."
"I know."
There's a few seconds of silence. Rilian wants to ask what the two parents are doing, but he doesn't know if Hetherra can tell him, or if it's another secret. All that matters is that they can help.
"I didn't believe her."
There can't be any doubt who the her is, but Rilian is still behind. "About what subject?"
"About you."
"You did not believe I existed?"
"I did not believe that there was a man worth leaving the sea for." If Rilian had heard this when Ileana was safe, he'd probably have smiled. But his mouth won't work, and he doesn't know what to say, so he just nods.
"I still don't know if you're worth leaving the sea for. But if she made you that—magic has never been something she spent time on, either of us. If she took the time to make you that, she must really like you."
Rilian thought her coming on land made that quite clear, but that seemed an unkind thing to say. Still, a memory stirs, of the night Ileana gave him the stone, and the other white stone on her dresser. "She made one for you as well."
The body beside him jerks, falls into the water, and resurfaces a second later. "She what?"
"She made a stone for you. A white stone." Rilian remembers holding it and hearing the piercing song. "She sang the song of the stars into it."
Hetherra chokes, hands covering her mouth. Water drops fall from her eyes, turning white as they fall through the air. "But—why?"
Rilian hesitantly lays one gentle hand on her shoulder. "She loves the stars' song."
"No! Why—why did she make one for me?"
"You are her sister."
"But we argued! I, I hated it when she left, for reasons no one could see. I hated every time she swam away and went somewhere else. And this meant she'd leave and never come back!" Six more pearls fall into the water. "Why?"
But two Merfolk heads break the water before Rilian can answer. Illthee surges forward again, hand outstretched. Catching it before it can hit his chest, Rilian feels the stone fall into his hand.
"We can do nothing in the daylight," the Merman says, glancing up at the sun. "But as night falls, the stone will shine on land. The closer to our daughter, the brighter the light. It will only last a night, and then the light and song will be gone forever. So take much care! It will begin the moment the sun sets."
"Thank you," Rilian whispers. "With Aslan's help, I will find her."
"Aslan's blessings on you, and on your search," says the mother, and then the three sink beneath the waves.
"Wait!" Rilian reaches towards them, but they are gone before he touches his hand to the water. I guess Merfolk really do not say goodbye, he thinks. He isn't sure what more he wanted—maybe just someone to say this isn't his fault, or someone to tell him it is—
Or perhaps just someone of her race, her family, nearby, until he has her again.
He realises that's an absurd wish, that he's wasting time, and turns back to the land.
Nightfall takes forever. Though arguing takes a good deal of time; when Drinian hears they have a way to find Ileana, he wants to call out the whole army. But Captain Etmun points out that creating a hostage situation will not help Ileana, and they compromise: they put together a troop of the stealthiest soldiers: great Cats, four Owls, and others.
"Large enough that this person—if it's the same—can't cast a spell over all of them," Rilian points out wearily.
"We hope," Captain Etmun growls.
Rilian does not allow any arguments about himself going. He declares he is going, and silences any objection as soon as it begins.
Drinian, being neither young nor stealthy, has to content himself with being in charge of the scouts, single soldiers who will provide a network to track the troop as it goes. He recruits several Narnians who aren't soldiers, who swear to stay out of danger, and just to watch, and bring back news, if there is any.
Choosing and outfitting the troop takes over an hour; eating a light dinner and putting the dishes away takes another, but then there is nothing to do but sit and wait for the sun to set.
Rilian tries not to wonder who has her, and what they want. It can't be the Ambassador, he died in the sea's grasp. It's probably the one the Ambassador said was still hunting her, but Rilian knows nothing of this person, except a rotten smell and an ability to enchant.
It's so easy to imagine the different things they might want with Ileana. Keeping her out of the water tomorrow and the next, till she died, never having heard Rilian's promise. Forcing her to cry pearls. Kidnapping her to demand a ransom, a ship, or the new fleet of ships. Or to take her mind and heart, to steal it the way Rilian's was stolen—
Drinian notices Rilian's building restlessness, and comes to sit by him.
"You should know by now that dwelling on shadows feeds them." There's no rebuke in the counsellor's voice, though, just a matter-of-fact observation.
"I keep telling myself it's not like last time."
"It isn't. Inaction is sometimes the hardest, Majesty. Your father couldn't stand it, after a while. It's why he left, that last year of his life. He had to do something." Drinian pauses. "Try to use the few hours you have to wait to mentally prepare yourself for what is coming, rather than readying yourself for the worst."
Rilian wants to say it's not that easy, that he can't just turn the fear off—but he's a King, and he knows that hard things are still meant to be done. "Any advice on how to do so?" he asks instead.
"Remember that Aslan loves her too," Drinian advises in an undertone. "Think on that instead."
It's better advice than Rilian was expecting. But there's a small part of him that wonders, on hot, restless nights, what kind of love would let ten years of chains and fear pass before a rescue came.
The rest of him always silences that voice by acknowledging his misery was his own fault; his rescue was not something he deserved. It was merely something good men and women did, because they were good; all the champions of Narnia who never returned, one brave Marshwiggle, and two children from another world—their help wasn't something he deserved.
But that couldn't apply to Ileana. Not unless falling for Rilian was a fault of hers.
"Evil is in this world, and thus kings and men must fight," Rilian whispers, recalling an old tale of High King Peter. But that was Rilian's task. Aslan's love—was it something he could trust?
Weighing the evidence doesn't help; Rilian was captured; Rilian was saved. He's born the hard times of being Aslan's king again and again; Aslan sustained him through those times again and again. In the end, it comes down to the simple question: did Rilian trust Aslan? Not entirely because of evidence, but because Rilian does, in some way, know Aslan.
Rilian thinks of trusting Aslan, and it's difficult; but when he thinks about not trusting Aslan, his confidence to do any good thing is gone as well. There is either good and Aslan—and bad—or there is a horrible world not worth living in. Rilian therefore closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and tries to let this stomach-wrenching fear go. Aslan will save Ileana and hold her till then, or Aslan will not.
Either way, Rilian tries to believe it will be what is best. Because he knows Aslan. He tries to hold on to the memory of Aslan's love—so much greater than his own—and trust the Lion with Ileana. He tries.
Sunset comes at last.
Rilian, the Owls, Cats, and others have gathered outside Cair's immense double doors. Not a feather rustles; not a tail twitches. All eyes stare at the blue stone in Rilian's hand. As the top of the golden circle falls beneath the sea, the stone begins to shine. Rilian holds it up towards the Cair doors, and it darkens. He spins, holding it out towards the road, and it's still dim. Towards the forest to his right, and it glows a little brighter.
Sucking in a quiet breath, Rilian moves. Into the forest, sticks or pine cones quietly crunching under his feet. It's the loudest sound around him. The following soldiers can't be heard, and not for a moment does Rilian lift his eyes from the stone and what's immediately in front of him to see if they're following. They're Narnians, they're loyal; they are there. He knows it even without seeing.
This is faith.
Rilian lifts the stone a little higher, and swears to have even stronger faith in Aslan.
They do not stay in the forest for long. Wending through the trees, they reach a cliff above a rocky beach. The cliff isn't sheer, and the stone brightens as Rilian lowers it to the ground. He looks; there's three possible ways to begin climbing down. Two of the Owls shoot past him, banking silently on their large wings, and dive past the cliff. Rilian moves to follow, and a Cat shoulders him aside, leaning against his legs and waiting. Ten seconds pass, twenty, and it already feels long. It's possibly less than three minutes later that the Owls rise in the dark air, flapping hard. They land, panting.
"The path in the middle leads down, but it's difficult for those who can't see in the dark," they whisper, their voices softer than their flapping had been.
"I have the stone," Rilian whispers back.
"Your Majesty, if our enemy sees the light of the stone, we lose any chance of surprise." It's the Cat, the one that stopped him; Rilian can feel the words rumbling through her body. "Let the dark-sighted Narnians go down the cliff first and look around. If no one is there, you and the three Badgers can follow."**
It's good sense, and Rilian hates being a king right then, hates having to make that decision. But he nods, and the soldiers begin streaming past him. They go over the edge of the cliff one by one, silhouettes vanishing from sight. The Owls are the last to go; a sound like a gentle breeze, and they're gone.
Rilian sits down to wait, and to listen.
An eternity goes by.
He knows it's not that long, because the sky is losing the very last of its light; it can't have been more than half an hour. But it feels like forever, and so when he hears rustling he's quick to stand, relieved.
It's only then that he realises the sound is coming from the forest. He whirls, drawing his sword, planting his feet, and beginning to call out, "Who's th—"
A decay-sweet voice drowns out his own, and it's the last thing he remembers.
*ScribeofHeroes wanted this to happen "on screen," as it were, though I'm pretty sure this is not what she (or I) originally had in mind. It was meant to be a happy thing.
…Sorry.
**Badgers apparently do not have good night vision. The things you never know till you have to write a story, right?
Second chapter is coming! Of course, if you don't want to read the next chapter till next week, you don't have to.
Response to Guest: Was your guess correct? :) But the ending is coming, and with no more villains left, it will be as happy as such endings usually are - the ones that are also beginnings!
Response to Guest (2): Victory number 1, yay! Only…it's a bit delayed. I don't think I'll spoil future chapters, but I will say that I seldom have Aslan directly involved in my stories, as I find Him intimidating to write - it's very easy to get Him wrong!
