Archive | June 5, 2016

But Not A Return, a continuation of a fanfic of Narnia and Valdemar

(It’s friday somewhere? *innocent*
first: A Door in the Wall
Second: On the Other Side of the Door
Third: The Call Comes Again
Fourth: New Travelling Companions
Fifth: Complications and then Complications
Sixth: Stranger Things
Seventh: A Change and Changes

“It seems like they’re used to Heralds coming through,” Peter whispered into the dark. Marna’s friend Orna had put them all up in a broad sleeping loft where, she told them, her sons had slept before they’d left the house.

“And as they’ve not come back with wives and children yet, well, the space is open and someone might as well sleep there,” she’d continued, fussing over all of their protestations. “And there’s food for the eating, and the clothes fit you two well enough, and…” And on she’d gone, but she hadn’t turned down Susan and Lucy’s offers of help in the kitchen, nor Peter and Edmund’s offer to split wood for the coming winter.

“Even our age, or younger. Soleck had to explain a couple times that we hadn’t been Chosen, whatever that means. Seems like these Heralds do a lot more than just pass messages,” Edmund offered.

“If the Horses – Companions – are that rare here, it would make sense. You might team a messenger up with a talking Horse if you had them, or for a very urgent message…” Lucy had skill in keeping her voice very quiet, and yet sounding excited and ready to jump from her bed, as she did now.

“I heard them ask Soleck for a judgement on a small matter,” Peter murmured. “And he sounded as if he was used to such things. It seems reasonable that he might be empowered to send us on such a mission as this.”

“The question is,” Susan put in, “the mission itself. Not only ‘can we do it’, but should we? I mean… we can assume that Aslan sent us here, and if we assume that, then yes, we should do the mission. But…”

“But a cat is not a lion,” Peter agreed quietly, “and there are times when others pretend to speak with Aslan’s voice. I say… I say we go along for the time being, and do our best not to stumble too badly.”

“At least until we can find out what a stumble might mean, here.” Edmund sounded thoughtful. “I mean, will we end being turned to stone, or, well…”

“Causing a major diplomatic incident by wearing the wrong veil,” Susan filled in. She had made her own mistakes, back in Narnia, back on Earth. “Or simply irritate an ambassador by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“We should tread carefully and make friends,” Lucy agreed brightly. “It’s a nice world, so far. The people are nice. The houses are nice.”

“I do miss Mr. and Mrs. Beaver,” Susan admitted softly. “But this is a nice house. And everyone’s been so kind so far.”

“Perhaps there’s a war.” Peter sounded distant. “Lucy and Ed are right. We’ll have to tread very carefully indeed here. We’ll have to remember that this isn’t home – and that this isn’t home, either.”

“But we can find their… but we can do this mission, yes?” Lucy was nearly leaning out of her bunk. “It sounds like quite the adventure!”

“We can take the mission, yes.” Peter sounded like himself again. Trust Lucy to remind him he had a heart. “Something brought us here, after all. We should find out what, at the very least. And the best way to do that is to play along.”

Susan curled in her bunk, trying to ignore the cold feeling in her chest. She had often been the pragmatic one in their little team. Why, now, was she fighting it?

She wrapped her arms around her knees and made herself sound bright as she backed Peter up. “I’m sure we can learn much more about them than they’d expect. As Ed said, we look younger than we are.”

“We are younger than we are,” Lucy laughed. “I wonder how long we’ll be here, this time…?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out. Just don’t leave any pots on the boil anywhere,” Edmund joked.

“But for now,” Peter put in firmly, “we should sleep. We’ll have a long day ahead of us in the morning.”

Susan closed her eyes. An old verse of Narnian poetry came to her mind, and she recited the words silently until she could make herself sleep.

My love, I but stepped out a bit; my love, I but to the fence did flit.
My love, ‘twas just a moment gone. I swear I would return anon.


next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1122353.html

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