#{I really should just do the Centauretts... really I should}

[ursulamarrel-blog]

OKAY so many people have been asking me tips on how to draw CENTAURS!

So here is a step by step post of my shitty pictures because I didn’t think that taking pictures of a sketch in the dark would be a bad idea!

Basically, what you need to draw a centaur is:

1. Patience. Many times one just gives up on the first try because it’s hard. Everything can be hard, you just have to put your mind to it and get it done!

2. Knowledge of human and horse anatomy! If what you’re aiming for is a natural looking centaur, studying and sketching the anatomy of both parts is fundamental to get to that final result! @hubedihubbe ‘s centaurs and @what-the-floofin ‘s centaurs are a perfect example of what I mean, go check them out!

3. REFERENCES!! I cannot stress this enough, and any artist giving tips knows this: REFERENCES ARE KEY! Even if you have studied the anatomy and everything, there are still some poses that might seem tricky, and here is a reference to help! 

4. Another important thing I keep seeing, is people drawing directly. NOOOO!!! Don’t be afraid to doodle the pose before, do the outlines and THEN, only then complete it. Only by doing the basic construction lines you can see what is wrong with what you’re doing, either it be the pose, or the size of the upper body, or proportions themselves. Don’t be afraid to do them!

5. And finally, the shitty 5 minute centaur doodles I did for this specific post:

First off, you want to draw the head. The head is the starting point of everything, because through the head proportions the rest of the human body is made. You want to leave space for the rest of the body, because centaurs can take a lot of space!

Then I do the rest of the body. The lines that divide the body are a “head” in lenght. The hips are just sketched out because we’re putting the horse body under that 

Here I do a quick outline of the horses body, just to make sure the size is coherent with the human body. One can choose to make a big horse body, but this is usually to avoid making too-small-horse bodies.

After that I doodle out the position I want the legs in, again, looking at proportions of where the knee is. The arms should be in a position that more or less mirrors the leg movement. If a centaur is jumping, don’t keep the hands down, it makes the pose look unnatural. This is just a random casual pose.

Once I’m satisfied with the position I draw the leg and I enhance the final outline. You can still see the construction lines underneath, but the final outline stands out more.

Back legs are the trickiest imho. I corrected them again in the next step, realizing I did the butt slightly too big ^^”.

Voilà, here is the horse body all fleshed out. I prefer finalizing the horse body first because I find it the hardest to do, but one can start with the human body too!

Speaking of, here is a quick sketch of how I do the facial structure outline.

Here we have the final doodle of the female centaurette! I realized later that this pose is a little tricky unless she’s trotting ^^”

While we’re at it, I thought I might do a frontal version of this too! Same applies here, for the head. I divide the face in 3  as a reference for nose, eyes and mouth. I start with a circle, to determine the width of the head, and then add a chin under the circle to decide the general shape of the face.

Honestly this pose isn’t the best... I should have used a reference! XD

I widened the leg a little, since it was really too thin ^^” I also added a really quick shading on the back legs to add a little depth.

To build the centaur main structure you don’t really need to draw the arms straight away, that’s why I added them later. The most important part is the torso.

Again, an outline from the front of the facial features.

Many people I know struggle with drawing a nose from the front. Most of it actually comes from the shadow it casts, so when just drawing lineart most of the nose doesn’t actually get drawn at all! What I do is draw the nostrils and hint at the shape of it, but that’s it ^^”

The rest of the face over here :3

After doing all the facial deets I do the actual face shape, and since this one’s a boy I made his chin a little squared. The hair is one of the last things I add, since hair is one of the easiest things to do, especially in a five minute doodle, because hair is basically a scribble at that point B)

And here’s our finished boy!

So, this is my little tutorial! I hope this was in anyway helpful! ^__^

#centaur #centaurs #mine #tutorial #art tip #art tips #step by step #taur #centauress #centaurette #ursulamarrel #face tutorial #centaur tutorial

[temptation-narnia-chronicles]

From Upon the Golden Thrones

Episode 5: Edmund’s Spy Corporation

      Blue eyes, but dark circles. Golden hair, but an absolute mess. The High King sucked in a deep breath and straightened his crown, scrutinizing his reflection. Not even the warm glow of midmorning sunlight could soften his dreary complexion. He glanced to the clock-- 10:13am-- and cursed under his breath for taking so long. He would've expected Susan or Lucy, even Eilonwy, to take longer freshening up than himself. But alas, as he swung open the double doors and stepped into the grand hall, all eyes fell on him.

      "There you are, Peter!" Lucy exclaimed, a grin spreading across her lips. Peter envied how bright and peppy she was in the mornings, as if she had an IV of caffeine constantly piping energy straight into her bloodstream.       "What took you so long?" Susan inquired. She eyed her older brother with criticism, certain that there was something amiss. It was unlike Peter to run so late, especially now with so many kingly duties to uphold. He prided himself on punctuality yet he was hardly punctual anymore, it seemed.       "I told them maybe you got sucked down the toilet" Edmund jested. For someone who had a history of liking mornings the least, the just king seemed awfully energetic. A small seed of suspicion rooted itself in Peter's chest.       "Sorry. I got a little distracted, I guess" Peter muttered, eyes locked on the papers he was spreading out across the long dining table. "We've got a lot to cover today, though, so we might as well get right into it. First things first, the Lord of Maldonado is scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning so I expect us all to be on our best behavior and make the nobles feel as welcome as possible. It is my greatest hope that we can forge yet another alliance with one of the islands. And speaking of islands, Galma wanted to formally thank us for our assistance with the plague. The duke sent a handwritten letter along with a large basket of treats to firmly set our alliance." Magnificent eyes glanced up from the letter, scanning the room to find Edmund raising his hand high. "Yes, Ed?"       "Pete, speaking of Galma, I've had something I've wanted to talk with you about-- all of you-- that I--" Edmund began, but was quickly interrupted.       "Are you and Nefyn officially dating?!" Lucy squealed in delight. Edmund's cheeks glowed bright red.       "Lu, no! Stop it! That's not-- that has nothing to do with this!" the just stammered. Lucy simply shrugged and giggled, muttering a halfhearted sorry. Edmund knew she wasn't. Shaking the thoughts from his head, he then continued. "While I was quarantined, I had a lot of spare time and not a lot to do but I started thinking about those stupid mysteries the duke had on his bookshelf, the one about the blind Sherlock Holmes mole, and I got this idea: why not establish a spy corporation? Narnia's own band of spies!"       The just king was met with a few beats of silence, a handful of blank stares. Peter furrowed his brow in deep thought, Susan poked her index finger to the corner of her mouth, and Lucy glanced from each of her siblings expectantly. Finally, it was an unexpected voice who broke the silence.       "But why?" the faun asked from the other end of the table. Tumnus looked to each of the monarchs, head cocked to the side, genuinely curious. As royal advisor, Tumnus had a duty to attend every royal meeting along with all the other council members the Pevensies (and Aslan) had appointed. For the past few months, he had remained relatively silent save for the rapid scribbling of his pen to parchment. Hence why, when he spoke up, it came as even more of a shock.       Edmund stumbled over his words, trying to find a way to explain the significance of his proposal. It was clear as day to him, at least, why it was such a good idea. He expected it to be obvious to everyone else, as well. He looked to his siblings for backup but they said nothing, further escalating his anxiety. "Well, because..." he began slowly, cautiously, praying he could piece together a coherent explanation. "We can't always trust everyone we meet, or everyone who asks for our alliances. With a spy corporation, we'd be able to keep tabs on anyone who approaches us, do background checks, ensure they're not just playing some sort of game in an attempt to crush Narnia from the inside." Clasping his hands under the table, Edmund glanced around the table awaiting a response. A few moments of silence passed before a scoff was heard from the other end of the table.       Professor Arcadian, the royals' tutor, rolled his eyes and knitted his brows together in dismay. "A novice idea, at best" he scoffed. Peter's eyes darted to the faun, harsh and offended.       "And what of it, Professor? Do you have anything better in mind?" Peter shot back.       The faun crossed his arms and stared down at the High King. "I just find it hard to trust ideas of spies from someone of a rather...treacherous past" Arcadian commented. A thin veil of understanding suddenly fell across the rest of the room as other council members piped up in agreement. After all, it was common knowledge that Edmund had betrayed them all and gave Jadis supreme intel at the risk of his family. King or not, his past is irrevocable. How could they know he ever truly changed?       Soon the mutterings increased to an absolute uproar of shouts and accusations, leading Edmund to shrink down in his seat in vain. Lucy eyed him sympathetically from across the table, gaze like daggers to those shouting in protest. Peter slammed his fist on the table, commanding silence, but he could only do so much. It was the valiant whose voice rang the loudest, high-pitched and surprising. The council scarcely expected such a demanding yell from such a tiny girl, and in such an unexpected way, as well.       "Edmund has done nothing wrong! And anything he may have done in the past shouldn't impact his future!" Lucy scolded. "Despite any harm he may have done to you all with the White Witch, I know my brother. I know he's truly sorry and regrets every bit of it, and would love more than anything to move past what's happened and instead focus on what will happen."       Susan nodded with a soft smile, clapping lightly for her baby sister and laying sympathetic eyes upon Edmund. Peter thanked the young queen, ushering her to take her seat, and then looked to the rest of the council with stony eyes. "Well, I think we've made our stance perfectly clear."       "As have we!" Arcadian shouted back. The gruff faun stood, palms planted firmly to the tabletop, and stared the High King down at the end of the room. "We refuse to budge on our opinion. Our vote is a solid no."       Gritting his teeth, Peter gazed to the rest of the council for validation. Many averted their eyes, too weak to straightforwardly agree. Tumnus and the Beavers were practically the only ones to decline the mob mentality, standing firmly beside their kings and queens. While Tumnus may not have fully understood Edmund's perspective, he knew the just king was wildly intelligent and trusted that he knew what he was doing. The Beavers felt exactly the same, Mrs. Beaver toddling over to place a comforting paw upon Edmund's forearm.       "You may have gained three more positive votes, but the math still stands firm. We outnumber you. The answer is a no" Arcadian pressed. Peter searched the faces of those who stood beside him, and those behind the faun. It was seven against fourteen. The odds were impossible.       With a reluctant sigh, Peter turned to his brother and whispered, "I'm sorry, Ed. It's a no." Edmund's gaze dropped to the floor, more embarassed than anything. How could he have been so stupid as to think anyone would want to listen to him? Especially regarding such a thing as this? Spies. Of course the traitor would want to start spying on everyone. Next thing they'd know, the just would be turning his back on his country, selling his siblings down the river, taking over Narnia all for himself like some cruel, heartless dictator. Or at least that's what everyone seemed to think. If only there was a way to prove to his people that he was not driven by ulterior motives but, in fact, the opposite. He chewed over the thoughts for the rest of the day.       Distant waves lapped against the Narnian shores, their consistent roar faintly echoing through the gardens. Edmund weaved through rows of shrubberies, running his fingers against the rough bark and inhaling the tangy scent of plump oranges weighing down the branches. He cherished the alone time, yet also wished for someone to speak to, though he knew no one could ever understand. He was a lonely traitor, mended but muted. He was a threat, a venomous beast that must be monitored constantly should he snap and attack. They probably felt lucky he was under Peter in the heirarchy, that his abilities were limited by the high king. A defeated sigh.       As Edmund reached the edge of the gardens, he leaned against the marble wall and looked out upon the Eastern Sea. He thought about Nefyn, where her and her father must be by now, all the philanthropic work they'd be doing. Deep down, he desperately wished she was with him. The centaurette seemed to be the only person who truly appreciated and understood him, his dearest friend. Certainly she would stand by him and rally for him, just as he did for her. Perhaps if he wrote her a letter, asked for her help, an eye for an eye, return the favor, then maybe...       "Lost in thought, I assume?" a voice called from behind. For a moment, Edmund was so deep in his thoughts that he nearly mistook the girl for Nefyn herself but was sorely disappointed to find none other than Eilonwy growing near.       "How did you guess?" Ed shrugged.       "Simple, really. This seems to be where everyone comes to have a think. I know I do" she replied. Flanking him, she leaned her elbows against the barrier and sucked in a deep breath. "Beautiful day at sea, isn't it?"       Edmund nodded, but Eilonwy could tell he wasn't really in the mood for small talk. The undertones of annoyance in his expression gave him away almost immediately. "I wish I was out at sea" he mumbled.       The huntress nodded. "Off with Nefyn I presume?" she joked, elbowing him lightly in the side. Edmund rolled his eyes, prompting the girl to shake her head. "I'm kidding. I know how you feel about her."       "You do?" the just asked, disbelief and panic coating his voice. Eilonwy nodded.       "You care for her deeply, but she's just a friend. That's all she'll ever be, and you're content with that. I understand completely" she replied. Something in the way she spoke gave Edmund the sneaking suspicion that she was speaking from experience, and he was almost tempted to ask her to elaborate but rightly restrained himself. He didn't want to pry. That seemed to be rather expected of him these days.       After a few subsequent beats of silence, Edmund shook his head and turned his back to Eilonwy. "You know, if you came out here to express some sort of fake sympathy, you can just be on your way" he said sourly. Eilonwy gasped, but not in offense.       "Oh, well my apologies, your majesty! I was unaware that fake sympathy was in abundant supply today, if any sympathy at all" she replied sarcastically. "Listen, I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I heard what happened in council today and, well...I guess you could say I'm feeling realistically sympathetic."       "But you don't have to do this..." Edmund started but the huntress held up a hand and shook her head.       "It's not a matter of obligation but a matter of desire. I want to make sure you're alright. Nobody ever said I had to" she explained. An obscure chuckle broke free of her lips, highlighting her crooked teeth and the creases at the corners of her lips. "But really, what those councilmen said this morning was absolutely horrible. You deserve to be heard and taken seriously just as much as your brother and sisters do. Your past doesn't have to define you, but it's hard when they won't seem to let it pass." There was a strange ingenuity to her in those moments that took Edmund off guard, something he wasn't sure he had ever really seen in her before. He liked it, though. It was comforting in a strange and unconventional kind of way.       "Well...thank you" Edmund slowly replied. "I just hope they're more open to listen to the next idea I might propose."       "Why?" Eilonwy cocked her head. "I mean, what's the matter with this one? You're not going to let them get away with this, are you? Don't tell me you're backing down."       The just king averted his eyes, gave a halfhearted shrug. It wasn't that he thought of this as unimportant, he just found it very difficult to convince an already stubborn council on something of such substance. Especially with his background.       Eilonwy furrowed her brows and gripped the edge of the marble railing. "If you let them win this fight, whose to say they'll accept any of your other ideas? Hmm? You'll already have been kicked down to your knees. If you let them degrade you, they'll never let you get back up again. A king is nothing without the support of his council" Eilonwy replied. While appreciative for her blunt delivery, Edmund wasn't fond of the idea. He didn't want to think Narnia's nobles were against him but Eilonwy knew far more about this country's politics than he did, so why shouldn't he trust her judgment? A moment of silence passed before Eilonwy tilted her head to the sun and sighed. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, Edmund. After all, you are a king and I'm nothing but a washed up wayward. The decision is yours, I just hope you make the right one." A halfhearted smile touched her lips a moment before she gave a nod and sauntered back off toward the castle. Edmund watched her leave with a lump lodged firmly in his throat. With a soft groan, he turned his back to Cair Paravel and buried his face in his hands.       Sleep did not come easily for Edmund that night. The constant ticking of his grandfather clock kept time as he tossed and turned, unwelcome thoughts prodding at his brain. He threw his pillow over his face in hopes that it would block out the distractions but not even that could silence his weary mind. As he lay there flat on his back, tired eyes staring up at the ceiling, a sudden tapping noise captured his attention. It was strange and discomforting, like a finger lightly rapping against glass. Concerned, Edmund rolled onto his side to better view his window, assuming it was just a rogue branch in the breeze. Instead, he caught sight of a strange silhouette in the moonlight. As he crept closer, the shape began to take form as a raven perched atop the tree, beak against the glass. Though it was too dark to read the time, Edmund knew well enough that it was far too late for a wake-up call from some pesky bird.       "Shoo! Get out of here!" he called, creaking open the window and flinging his hands. The bird cocked it's head but otherwise stayed deathly still. And the more the bird stared at him, the more Edmund began to fear the possibility of death itself. Obviously the king knew that a silly little bird couldn't possibly kill him, but ravens were always shown as omens of death and the fact one came to him during an already trying time was unnerving at best. Increasingly fed up with the bird's stubbornness, Edmund reached over to his bedside table to snatch the core of a leftover apple he had snacked on earlier. Winding up, he narrowed his eyes at the bird and then launched the apple core right at him. Of course, one of Edmund's many faults was that he had terrible aim and so the core barely grazed the bird's cheek before slamming against the trunk of the tree and tumbling to the ground below. "Bollocks!" Edmund cursed under his breath.       The bird jumped in surprise, feathers ruffled, before shaking it's head and cawing softly. "For a king, you're not a very good marksman!" a voice suddenly exclaimed. Edmund froze, slowly turning to face the raven.       "W-was that...was that you...that just spoke?" Edmund asked slowly, cautiously. Obviously he knew many a Narnian creature was intelligent enough to speak but something about this still seemed to catch him by surprise.       The raven cawed comically, as if laughing, and ruffled his feathers again. "Well, who else might it be? The great lion himself?"       "Who are you? And why are you here?" Edmund asked, shuffling nearer. "Are you here to tell me I'm going to die?" he then added in a whisper. The raven laughed again, causing Edmund's cheeks to turn fifty shades of red.       "Why ever would I do such a thing as that?" he asked in laughter.       "Haven't you ever read Poe? The Raven? Oh, of course you haven't. Birds don't read" Edmund replied, waving the thing off. The raven flapped his wings for a moment, lifting his body a few inches off the branch, before settling himself down on the windowsill.       "To answer your earlier question, my liege, I am Sallowpad of the Western Wood. I sensed distress, as ravens are rather sensitive creatures, and came to inspect the situation. You seem troubled, my king" Sallowpad explained. Edmund blinked, then rubbed his eyes.       "I must be dreaming..." he muttered to himself. There was no other possible explanation. He must've fallen asleep and all of the thoughts plaguing his brain had accumulated into one very vivid but very bizarre dream. Sallowpad cocked his head to the opposite side this time, blinking as he watched the young king try to comprehend the scene, then alighted to his shoulder and pecked at his arm lightly. Even with his nightshirt on, the sharp break felt like a needle pricking his skin and he quickly flailed the creature away with a quiet shout of "Hey, stop that!"       "My sincerest apologies, my king. A punch of reality is the quickest cure for the mania of fantasy, after all! I just wanted to provide evidence to negate your belief that this is, somehow, a dream" Sallowpad explained, returning to the windowsill. "Now, what seems to be troubling you?"       "Well, more recently, my arm!" Edmund shot back, rubbing his forearm. He eyed the bird skeptically, unsure of whether he should trust the creature. He hadn't exactly had the best of luck explaining his problems to strangers in this country. The bird was stubborn, however, and continued to stare at him until the king gave him an answer. With a sigh, Edmund surrendered. "Fine. It's just...nobody trusts me around here. I've got this great idea, one that could really help this country's security, but all anyone ever sees in me is a traitor."       "I see..." Sallowpad replied thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps I can help. What is this brilliant idea of yours?"       "I'm not so sure I should tell you, of all creatures..." Edmund said slowly. Sallowpad narrowed his eyes as if he was offended, demanding a reason. "It's not that I don't trust you! It's just...I don't know you" he panicked.       "I am Sallowpad of the Western Woods" the raven repeated. "You know my name and origin. You know my face and my voice. You are familiar with me, and familiarity is the stepping stone to trust, which is the very foundation of friendship! We're practically friends, sire, are we not?" Edmund glanced to the bird, then the floor, then the door, and back. Discomfort began to envelope his entire body. If only there was a way to distract the bird and make a quick escape, to flee to someplace where Sallowpad may never find him. Anything to relieve himself of this bizarre and uncomfortable interaction.       After a few moments of silence, however, something new began rising up inside Edmund's chest. Here he was presented with just about the only person willing to listen to him-- truly listen to him-- and here he was rejecting this creature's ear. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust Sallowpad but on the other hand, Edmund suddenly felt compelled to tell him everything. And so he did. He seated himself in the big arm chair by the window and spoke of his journey into Narnia, his history with the White Witch, his siblings and the Battle of Beruna and Aslan and their coronation. Not that any of this was unknown to the bird, or any Narnian for that matter, but Sallowpad did not rush the boy. Rather, he simply sat and listened. Edmund continued to speak of Galma and the epidemic, of his minor injury and major breakthrough. Of his ideas for a spy corporation and the resounding opposition he was met with that morning by the council.       Sallowpad flitted his wings and hummed to himself, responding with a comforting, "I see why you would be wary of telling such things to a stranger, but have no fear for I am rather fond of your idea, my liege! Rather fond indeed! So fond, in fact, that I would like to help you with your corporation!"       Edmund's mouth gaped open as he tried to find the right words to say, but all that came was a stammer until finally, he choked out a single word. "How?"       "I am a rather intelligent bird, my king, and am very good at spying myself! I am known for keeping a bird's eye view on everything and everyone! I would be honored, nay ecstatic, to be given permission in helping you get your spy corporation off the ground, even if it is just the two of us, in order to maintain the safety and security of our great Narnia itself!" Sallowpad preached. Though Edmund had only just met him, Sallowpad's enthusiasm filled him with a renewed hope. It was outrageously refreshing knowing there was at least one being who seemed excited and approving of Edmund's idea.       "You would really do such a thing?" Edmund asked, just to be sure. The raven cawed in confirmation, flapping his wings quickly. "And how do I know you're not a spy for some other country here to cause trouble?"       Sallowpad ruffled his feathers once more, yet again offended by the king's insinuation. "I am Narnian born and bred, sire! I have Narnian blood coursing through my veins! To betray one's land is to betray oneself!" he exclaimed. Though portions of Edmund still remained skeptical, he was growing far too tired now to continue questioning the bird. He couldn't see the time, but knew by the fatigue blanketing his body that it was growing far too late. Detecting his exhaustion, Sallowpad simply nodded and added, "We will talk in the morning, my liege. But now, to bed. After all, a king without sleep loses more than just energy!" he spoke. He flew near, yellow feet clutching at the shoulder of his shirt, and put the boy to bed much like a father would his son, drawing the covers up to his chin and tucking him in tightly. He bid the young king a goodnight before darting out the window and disappearing into the trees.       As daybreak fell across the land, Edmund struggled to force his eyes open. His forearm tingled and his head was spinning, all he wanted to do was cocoon in his bed and sleep for the next week. Unfortunately, kings aren't afforded that luxury and he knew he had no other option but to catapult his body out of bed with all the strength he could muster. Stumbling to his mirror, he rubbed his eyes and cringed at the dark circles and the pallor of his face. He certainly looked concerning. His siblings would worry but there wasn't much he could do about it. With a heavy sigh, he stripped himself of his pajamas and tossed them into the corner, then filed through his drawers for something fresh to wear for the day. As he did so, however, his ears picked up on a curious noise from behind. He remembered that wild dream he had last night, about the raven on the windowsill, and chuckled to himself softly. His imagination was growing wilder by the second. As he turned to face the source of the sound, however, he was startled to find none other than Sallowpad the raven perched on his windowsill. So it really wasn't a dream...       "Good morning, sire!" the raven squawked. Edmund shouted and jumped in surprise, then realized he was nearly naked and scrambled to cover himself.       "W-what are you doing here?!" he panicked.       "I told you last night that I would return in the morning, my king! Why? Is this a bad time?" the bird inquired, glancing to the boy's bare body and cocking his head.       "N-no..." Edmund stammered, struggling to keep himself covered while dressing himself. "Just...a warning would have been nice, at least."       "My apologies, my liege" Sallowpad replied. "I will remember for next time. So, what is the first order of the day? What shall Edmund's spy corporation accomplish?"       Edmund fumbled over his words as he tried to figure out a proper answer. "Well, I just...nothing. At the moment, at least" he finally said. He didn't want to disappoint the bird but at the same time, couldn't bring himself to lie.       Sallowpad flapped his wings nervously and cocked his head to the side. "What would you like me to do then, my liege? I can accompany you to your daily duties, and perhaps help you with your work!"       "No, no! No!" Edmund abruptly shouted, raising his hands in protest. "N-no, Sallowpad, I don't think that would be necessary. Not that I wouldn't appreciate your help, it's just...we have nobles from the islands coming today. We have to accomodate to them and win their trust and I just...don't know if they'd take well to a bird of your...kind, so to speak, flying about." He tried to be as gentle with his wording as possible but he could tell Sallowpad was disappointed regardless. The bird tucked his head inward so that his shoulder blades were level with his face and issued a somber caw. "I promise, we can figure out the spy stuff later. Right now just isn't a very good time" the king added apologetically.       "No apologies necessary, your highness. I understand completely. The duty of a king is to the masses, not to the few" Sallowpad replied, though his tone wasn't exactly the most convincing. "What shall I do while you are busy then?"       Edmund blinked and thought for a moment, unsure of what to tell him. "Um..." he stammered, "You can just...hang out for a bit. Fly around the Paravel Forest or something. Don't go too far, but, you know...keep some distance."       Here, the raven perked up, extending his neck back out to the average position and flapping his wings lightly. "Yes, your majesty! I will do just so! Assignment is the key to purpose!" he blurted with newfound joy, regardless of how mundane an assignment it was.       "Sallowpad, hush!" Edmund begged, raising his hands frantically. But the bird didn't hear him, and released a loud caw that echoed all the way down the hallway. Moments later, footsteps padded across the marble flooring and a knock vibrated through the door.       "Edmund? Are you alright in there?" Susan called from outside. Of all his siblings, Edmund knew that certainly the gentle queen was most likely to panic at what she'd find behind his door.       "Sallowpad, quiet!" the king whispered, heart racing out of his chest. He clenched his fists at his sides in panic as the doorknob slowly turned and the door began to creak open. With a gasp, Edmund lunged forward and shoved the bird out the window, whispering a hectic apology as he fanned Sallowpad away. The bird squawked and startled as he flew off in wobbly formation, disappearing behind a tree just as Susan entered the room.       "Ed, are you alright in here?" she asked, concerned. Her eyes searched the room for anything amiss, greatly suspicious. Edmund pasted a cheesy grin upon his face, tapping his toe lightly.       "Of course! Everything's perfectly fine, Su! Just getting a little fresh air, is all. Nothing like morning air in Narnia, huh?" he rambled. "Hey! Are you hungry? We've gotta be late for breakfast. Come on, we wouldn't our food to get cold!" he then added, pushing past his sister into the hall. Susan glanced around a moment, confused and concerned, but didn't ask anything else of it as she chased her brother down to the dining hall.       "So, which island are these visitors from again?" Susan asked later that morning as she and her siblings raced to Cair Paravel's gates. Truthfully, she felt a little embarassed for not remembering. The Seven Isles were so strange and far that she often forgot they were even there, which made her feel like a terrible queen. But then again, she had only been a queen for a few months, it wasn't as if the whole world expected her to be vastly knowledgeable in such a short span of time. Still, she hated forgetting especially with councilmen from such an island arriving any moment.       "I think it's something like Moldy Nacho?" Edmund furrowed his brows in thought.       "Maldonado" Peter corrected. "It's important we get that right. We wouldn't want to offend them." At this, Eilonwy scoffed, drawing attention to herself.       "Eilonwy, do you find this funny?" Susan asked. The maiden shook her head.       "No, not at all. I just don't understand why you'd want to forge alliances with Maldonado of all places. Filthy, wretched thieves they are. Nothing but an island of rejects and sinners" she explained.       "Eilonwy, you have to remember, your perception of these places are a hundred years old. A lot can change in a century!" Peter replied, but in an informative, openminded sort of tone rather than a smartass one.       "Well, if there's one thing I know it's that places can change all they want but the people stay the same" the maiden muttered.       "Oh, do try to be openminded, Eilonwy!" Lucy then added. Her eyes glimmered with optimism and excitement toward meeting more new people. She was a hypersocial queen if there ever was one.       As the Pevensies and their council readied themselves, the gates to Cair Paravel swung open to welcome in their guests. The Maldonadians were unlike anything the Pevensies had ever seen, riding upon horses draped in bright colored clothes and jesting all the way forward. Lucy was instantly mesmerized by their show, watching as men in bell-topped shoes swung torches with expert grace and stood on their hands on the hindquarters of their steeds. Some men even rode side saddle cloaked in velvet draperies with powdered wigs piled high upon their heads and bright makeup caked upon their faces. In the center of it all, however, was a rather contrasting vision, the Lord Lemuel, whose dressings were strict black and face of a ghostly pallor. A strange five pointed hat with pompoms sat upon his head.       "Lord Lemuel, it is with great pleasure that my siblings and I welcome you to our country" Peter greeted, bowing as two men helped the lord from his perch.       "Charmed, I'm sure" he replied, bowing in return and extending a veiny, bejeweled hand. A most unusual perfume wafted from his thick robes, as if he had gone weeks without bathing and then doused himself in the most bizarre and earthy of fragrances. Susan nearly choked on the power of it, unable to restrain herself from at least lightly coughing into her palm. The man quickly shot her a glare, looked her up and down, and then replied, "It is my sincerest hope that you did not bring back such diseases from that barbaric Galma, your highness. I would hate to see that pretty face rot and spoil so soon." His comment surely sent shivers down Susan's spine, leaving the sensation of thick slime enveloping her body. She looked to the sky and prayed that somehow by the luck of Aslan himself she'd be granted time for an afternoon bath.       As Peter and his siblings guided the Maldonadians inside, however, Edmund's attention was abruptly compromised by a cawing in the distance. His back shot ramrod straight as he snuck behind a bush to watch the skies. Far off in the distance but growing ever nearer was a large black bird swooping towards the castle walls. Sallowpad.       "Oh, great..." Edmund whispered to himself, slapping his palm to his forehead. The bird swooped down to the gateway, padding his yellow feet on the dirt a few times before he hopped around in search of the just king. "I'm right here" Edmund announced with a groan, revealing himself.       "Have the islanders arrived yet? How do they like the castle? Are they kind? Oh, please, do tell!" Sallowpad gushed. Edmund squeezed his eyes shut tight and shook his head.       "Sallowpad, this is a terrible time. The Maldonadians only just got here and I'm supposed to be guiding them inside with my family! You can't be here right now! I thought I told you to fly around the Paravel Forest for the day" Edmund said.       "I already did" Sallowpad replied. "It was most exhilarating. A beautiful wood indeed! But now I am finished and am ready for my first real spy mission."       Edmund clenched his fists at his sides and threw his head back to groan. Somehow this bird just wasn't understanding. Did this really have to be such a battle? The young king sucked in a deep breath, regained his cool, and then replied, "Sallowpad, I really appreciate your enthusiasm here but I'm not ready to give you any missions yet. I have duties that need to be attended to first. I'll meet with you tonight, after sundown, by my window and then we can play pretend, alright?" It was the phrase play pretend that truly struck a cord in the raven and suddenly that made all the difference. Edmund was never serious. This was all just one big game for him. He was a king, of course he had more important things to attend to. Sallowpad straightened his back and nodded once, sighing an Okay before bidding the king a good day and flying off. As he watched the bird disappear, something inside Edmund began to churn, as if he had just received a terrible omen. Or perhaps it was just the astronomical guilt of letting his new friend down. Either way, he didn't like the feeling of it one bit. However, there wasn't much he could do about it right now. As he said, he had royal duties to attend to. Paying one last glance to the skies, he collected himself and then rushed back through Cair Paravel's great doors to rejoin his family.       By the time Edmund caught up with the others, they were already halfway through the main hall and so engrossed in conversation and circusy delight that they had scarcely realized he was gone. Lucy clasped hands with one of the made-up men and twirled with him down the corridor, singing songs together as another drew a lily from his sleeve and tucked it behind her ear. The men in bell-topped shoes cartwheeled toward the staircase which they then climbed on their hands with the greatest of ease.       "I have high hopes that during your time here, we can secure some sort of alliance between Maldonado and Narnia" Peter said to the lord, whose face remained stark and expressionless.       "It is my hope, as well, your highness. Your country has much to offer us" Lord Lemuel replied. "Very much indeed." There was something in his tone that sparked Edmund's curiosity, an almost sly quality underscoring his words. He glanced to Susan looking rather uncomfortable, a polite smile pasted on her lips regardless. Peter and Lucy didn't seem all too concerned, however, and that gave Edmund reason to believe maybe he had nothing to worry about either. After all, how much trouble could a band of backflipping baboons really cause, anyways?       The rest of the afternoon progressed swimmingly as Peter and Lord Lemuel chatted for hours about what Maldonado could offer. Throughout the entire meeting, Peter seemed to show no signs of distrust or suspicion whatsoever, laughing and jesting with the man despite his dry and almost grotesque sense of humor. He wrote it off as just a personality quirk and prayed his discretion was correct.       As the sun began to dip into the Great Eastern Ocean, trumpets blared to signify dinner. Peter rose from his seat, offering to escort Lemuel to the feast, but the lord raised a hand and excused himself to the bathroom before he supped. Peter nodded and watched as the lord departed, a flutter of excitement filling his chest. Their hours-long discussion had fed him so much hope, he was certain nothing but good things were to come from their alliance. The positivity did not last long, however, for a sudden, disgusted gasp echoed from down the hall. Peter leapt out to assess the situation, finding a rathr horrified Lord Lemuel staring down Eilonwy.       "And who, pray tell, are you?" he asked in a rather sour tone. Cocking an eyebrow, he eyed her up and down, scrutinizing her every feature: she was too thin, too pale, her brows were to thick and her hair too unruly, her teeth were crooked and her dress was dirty and torn at the hem. If he hadn't known any better, he'd say she was a beggar or a gypsy dancing in the street for men's favors.       Lord Lemuel's blatant judgement ceased to phase Eilonwy, however. Heaven knows she was used to it by now. Straightening her back, she crossed her arms and stared right back at the man with a harsh gaze, opening her mouth to reply but was interrupted before she could make a sound.        "This, Lord Lemuel" Peter stepped in suddenly, "Is our dear friend, Eilonwy. She assisted us on our journey to Cair Paravel and fought alongside me in the Battle of Beruna."       "A female soldier, eh?" Lord Lemuel contemplated. "Interesting. Very interesting, indeed. And what a curious name, my dear child. Eilonwy. Like the ancient princess of the time before." Eilonwy did not under any circumstances like the way her name rolled off of this man's tongue, as if it was a curse word he found far too much satisfaction in using.       "Yes, my lord" Eilonwy replied coolly. "A fair and noble princess she was. I am genuinely honored to share a name with her."       "Hmmm..." Lord Lemuel hummed to himself. "Many a similarity shared, too, I see. Even speaks with the accent of the time before." It was at this that Eilonwy truly grew uncomfortable. Never had anyone ever pointed out her accent before, the deeper brogue and rounder syllables, a harsh contrast to the soft, proper dialects of the Pevensies.       "You must be a rather seasoned historian, my lord" Eilonwy replied, a slight edge finding it's way into her voice. Lemuel raised his brows, catching onto her defense, but said nothing more in condescending tones. He simply confirmed her statement with delicious passion, patting her on the shoulder, before requesting Peter escort him to dinner. The High King obliged, glancing apologetically to Eilonwy as he guided his guest, wishing he could do far more.       Edmund eyed the lord in curious disgust, watching as he stabbed each perfectly sliced piece of meat upon his plate and sensually curled his lips around his fork. There was something understandably disturbing about how calculated he was, so much so that even the most tolerable nobles found at slightly unnerving. The Pevensies did their best to ignore it as best they could, turning their attention to conversation instead.       "So, it seems as though you both have found a lot to talk about" Susan spoke, trying her best to not make eye contact with their guest. "I assume you've made quite a bit of progress on planning an alliance?"       Peter grinned and nodded. "I'd say we have!" he exclaimed, glancing to Lemuel. "We've done very valuable work so far. There are still many more kinks to iron out but I feel confident this is the beginning of a long and prosperous alliance." A disturbing smile spread across Lemuel's lips at the enthusiasm in Peter's voice. The thought of it all nearly made Susan and Eilonwy choke on their food.       "How wonderful!" Lucy exclaimed in contrast. "I hope we can invite some of your talented gymnasts and jugglers to our festivals!" It was refreshing to see the young queen so fascinated by the Maldonadians and their exquisite culture. Of course, not that anyone really expected any different from someone so filled with wonder and optimism. The High King simply nodded back at her, beaming.       As dinner came to a close and the royals retreated to their chambers for the night, Eilonwy sat by her vanity in unease. She couldn't stop thinking about the strange lord they were hosting in their home, and if anyone else felt the same way. Peter seemed so confident in their alliance, so trusting of him, that she began to question whether her concerns were even valid. Braiding her hair over her shoulder, she glanced to the clock in contemplation before sneaking into the hallway.       "Psstt...Susan?" she whispered, knocking on the queen's door. The gentle creaked the door open and peered through the slit cautiously, glancing around to ensure Eilonwy was alone.       "Eilonwy, it's late. What is it?" she whispered back.       "Can I come in a moment? I need to ask you something" Eilonwy replied. Susan hesitated a moment before finally opening the door fully and inviting the maiden inside.       "What is it, Eilonwy? Please make it quick, it's late and Peter has planned for all of us to go riding with Lord Lemuel early in the morning" Susan said. Eilonwy paused, beginning to question the quality of her idea. On the other hand, the undertones of disgust in Susan's voice convinced her otherwise, as if she was struggling to swallow a nasty pill.       "I need to ask you something. Does Lord Lemuel seem...I don't know, trustworthy to you?" Eilonwy inquired. She clasped her hands in front of her nervously, twiddling her thumbs as she awaited an answer.       "Of course! How could you think something so silly?" Susan replied in a not-all-that-convincing tone. She brushed her hair back behind her ears, rearranging the baubles and perfumes on her vanity, before gazing back at Eilonwy and asking "Why? Do you not think he's trustworthy?"       "Oh, I don't know..." Eilonwy murmured. She skirted around the queen and awkwardly seated herself on the cushioned bench at the foot of her bed. "I just...I don't know, there's something about him that's a little questionable to me. But maybe I'm just overreacting, I don't know. Peter doesn't seem concerned and neither do you or Lucy so maybe I'm just overthinking things. You know what? This was a bad idea, I'm sorry to have bothered you. Goodnight, Susan" she rambled. As she approached the door to make her escape, however, a pale hand reached out and grasped her wrist lightly. Eilonwy turned back to find Susan eyeing her with a certain vulnerabilty that caught the huntress off guard.       "I sense it, too" Susan whispered back desperately. Eilonwy's eyes widened slightly, mouth ajar, as she nodded slowly, grateful to have found someone who felt the same way.       Down the hall, Edmund paced back and forth as he awaited Sallowpad's return. It was half past ten, he should've arrived by now. Ed couldn't stop thinking about him, terrified he wouldn't listen and make a mess of things, effectively blowing their cover and ruining Edmund's chances of ever earning the council's trust. After fifteen more minutes had passed with no change, the just resorted to believe that maybe Sallowpad wasn't coming back. If anything, he'd see the raven in the morning. As he sucked in a breath to blow out his candle, however, the dark silhouette of his new friend swooped into view through the window. Edmund rushed over as the bird perched himself on the back of the just king's chair, huffing and panting heavily.       "Sallowpad, are you alright?" the just king asked. Sallowpad shook his head.       "I have grave news, your majesty! Very grave indeed!" the raven gasped. Edmund rose his eyebrows, prompting him to continue. "I know you refused but I disobeyed your orders and snooped around the castle anyways" he confessed.       "Sallowpad!" Edmund exclaimed, disappointed, but the bird raised a wing, asking the king to pause, then continued.       "I'm afraid to inform you that your guests have not been completely honest about their plans for you and your siblings, your majesty!" he revealed. "I overheard Lord Lemuel speaking with his men in his chambers just an hour ago. Very cruel plans they have indeed! We must alert the High King at once!" Edmund's heart leapt into his throat. He knew from the moment they arrived that there was something strange about these guests of theirs, and now he had reason to believe as such. But reason and evidence were two very different things. "Sallowpad, wait, we can't tell Peter anything" Edmund protested.       "Why ever not?" the raven asked.       "Well, because. We don't have any concrete proof that they've said the things you say they have. We don't have anything physical to hold against them. We can't do anything without proof. And plus, if Peter finds out you, a perfect stranger to him, have been sneaking around the castle with my knowledge, then we'll both be toast" the king explained. Sallowpad paused a moment to chew over Edmund's words, finding his logic hard to counter.       "Alright, you've made your point, your majesty. So then what do we do?" he asked after a few moments of silence.       Edmund sighed and shook his head. "That's a good question, Sallowpad. I truly wish I knew."       Come morning, Edmund sat silently at the breakfast table and poked at his food in disinterest. Lucy eyed him suspiciously, knowing Edmund wasn't one to dawdle at mealtimes, and pondered asking him what was wrong. But then she remembered Lord Lemuel and Peter's desperation to make a good impression and thought better of herself. Family drama was for private affairs, not breakfasts in the presence of guests.       Lucy wasn't the only one suspicious of Edmund's strange eating habits, however. Peter glanced to Susan in concern, silently asking her what was up with their brother. Susan shrugged minutely as if to reply that she didn't know, but deep down she wished she did. A part of her wondered whether Edmund shared her opinion of this strange Lord Lemuel but she brushed the thought away as quickly as it had arrived. At least Eilonwy sided with her on the matter. She looked to the huntress from across the table with a reassuring gaze, as if to remind her that she was not alone in her distaste.        "Alright, whose up for a little ride through the Paravel Forest?" Peter offered, rising from his seat, even if his offer was really more of a command. He wasn't being bossy so much as he was asserting dominance, a form of superiority to remind the lord of his title or something petty like that. Neither his siblings nor Eilonwy were very amused by it, truthfully. They all nodded, not that they were given much of a choice, and rose from the table to prepare for their midmorning journey.       A rigid tensity filled Eilonwy's body as she harnessed Everlast for their ride, hyperaware of her surroundings. She vowed to herself that she would stay behind Lemuel at all times to keep a close eye on him, for she didn't trust him one bit. She couldn't stop thinking about him: the deep crevices in his face, his thick, low brows and the dark, brooding eyes that poked out from underneath them, his bony fingers and black robes.       "Need any assistance?" a droning voice suddenly called from behind, snapping her from her thoughts. Eilonwy turned around to find none other than Lord Lemuel himself standing at the entrance of Everlast's stall. An unsettling smile spread across his face as he inched nearer.       "Um, no thanks, I'm quite capable on my own" Eilonwy shot back, refusing to meet his eyes. As she turned her back to him, however, she could feel his body slither closer and closer until she felt the weak breeze of his stale breath against the back of her neck.       "A princess like yourself shouldn't be subjected to doing such things on her own, though" he hissed. Then he did something Eilonwy hoped and prayed she'd never be subjected to: he planted his hands firmly on her waist and hoisted her up onto Everlast's back. A jolt of shock ran down Eilonwy's spine and she wanted to kick and protest at him but found every muscle in her body frozen in shock. As soon as she was close enough, she gripped Everlast's mane as tight as possible, a shiver rushing through her entire body. Everlast shook her head and brayed, but not because her rider was gripping her too tightly. Rather, the mare could sense Eilonwy's discomfort and was determined to do everything in her power to protect her.       Lord Lemuel cocked his head to the side and gazed up at Eilonwy eerily, the creases at the corners of his mouth deepening. There was something in his gaze that churned Eilonwy's stomach violently and she was almost certain in that moment that she was about to vomit. However, before any bile could reach her throat, Lord Lemuel's hand skated down to stroke Everlast's coat. The mare, disgusted by the strange man's touch, neighed and stood upon her hindlegs, kicking the air with her front hooves wildly. Taken aback by the sudden outburst, Lord Lemuel fell to the ground with a cry, capturing the attention of the other Pevensies in the nearby stalls.       Peter jolted into the scene, hand on his sword hilt and terror in his eyes. "What the hell is going on here?" he commanded.       "That--that beast...!" Lemuel shouted, pointing a shaking finger to Everlast. "That monster tried to kill me!"       "W-what?!" Eilonwy exclaimed in disbelief. The nerve of this douchebag.       "Eilonwy!" Peter scolded sharply. He stared back at his friend with eyes like daggers as he helped Lord Lemuel to his feet. "Control your horse! Or else someone could've gotten seriously hurt" he demanded.       Eilonwy's mouth gaped but she found herself unable to speak a word. She was too enveloped in pure shock. How could Peter possibly take this creep's side over her own? Didn't he ever stop to think that perhaps Lord Lemuel was the reason Everlast was so spooked in the first place? As Peter walked off with their guest, Eilonwy searched Susan and Edmund's faces for some kind of validation or support. Instead, she found none and in that instant, she felt utterly betrayed.       As they rode through the forest bordering Cair Paravel, a sick taste hovered in Eilonwy's mouth. She watched Lord Lemuel as he rode alongside Peter and joked with him about all the big plans they were to make together. Seems like Peter's really got his shit sorted, huh?, she thought to herself mockingly. She looked to Susan and Edmund and scoffed under her breath at them, too. So much for Susan being on her side.       Deep down, however, Susan couldn't stop thinking about what must've happened. A part of her was desperate to look back to Eilonwy, to even pull her aside and ask for the truth, but she knew she couldn't. Not now, anyways. She'd get her answers later, when they could be guaranteed privacy. She hoped to high heaven that none of it was Eilonwy's fault, despite her mind defaulting to such an assumption.       Edmund had trouble quieting his thoughts, as well. All he could think about was what Sallowpad had said the night earlier, and how it all tied into what happened at the stables. Very cruel plans, he thought to himself. A sickening feeling spread through his veins at the vague description. Lord Lemuel may have very cruel plans indeed, but the fact Edmund had no idea what, exactly, those plans were bothered him greatly. He needed to find out as soon as possible, and he knew exactly how to do it.       "Sallowpad!" Edmund shouted, swinging the window open. "Sallowpad, where are you?!" By now, Ed didn't give a fig whether anyone could hear him or not. He needed the raven's help immediately and was prepared to do anything to capture his attention. After five minutes of shouting and fussing with no progress, however, Edmund sunk red-faced into the nearest chair and fought to catch his breath. A wild fragment of thought told him to blow Susan's horn but he shook it off as quickly as it came. That would be inappropriate usage, and would cause too much of a scene. No, he'd just have to wait for the bird to show up on his own. In the meantime, Edmund would just lay his head on his desk and perhaps rest his eyes for a few moments, if he could even rest at all.       It wasn't until Edmund heard a loud pecking in front of him that he realized he had fallen asleep, though he had no idea for how long. Blinking awake, he looked up to find Sallowpad staring down at him, hopping from one foot to the other uneasily. The sky was drenched in an inky blackness outside.       "Sallowpad, what the hell took you so long?!" Edmund shouted, hopping from his seat. "I was calling for you hours ago!"        The raven ducked his head a moment, as if it would save him from getting slammed by the king's scolding. "I'm very sorry, your majesty! No amount of distance can amplify the calls to an occupied mind. When you all returned from your morning ride, I decided to swoop in and check on the Lod, just a little innocent eavesdropping is all. I was able to heir their entire plan and I'm afraid to inform you, sire, it is not good!'       "Well, out with it!" Edmund urged. This was exactly what he had been waiting for, a detailed summary of what he and his siblings were up against. The results were just as terrifying as Edmund had feared.       Down the hall, Eilonwy dropped onto her vanity stool, exhausted and overwhelmed. Her skin still tingled uneasily from the way Lord Lemuel grasped her earlier, and inside she was still seething at Peter's reaction. With a grunt, she swiped her arm across the tabletop, letting whatever trinkets she owned tumble onto the floor. She stared at her reflection for a brief moment, quietly hating herself, before burying her face in her hands with a sigh. Of all the young women anyone could attempt to take advantage of, she couldn't possibly imagine how she was of appeal. While she wasn't the praying type, she hoped to Aslan that that was the last she'd ever encounter of Lord Lemuel, at least on a personal basis, though deep down she knew it was all for naught. If Peter's optimism was any indication, they'd be seeing a lot more of Maldoandians in the coming years.       A muffled ruckus down the hall suddenly turned the huntress's attention away from hating herself, furrowing her brows curiously. Before she could even write it off as something mundane, a calculated knock rang through her chamber door. It was safe to say she didn't exactly want to speak with anyone at the moment, but she was far too exhausted to refuse. Considering hardly anyone ever knocked on her door anyway, she had a pretty good guess as to who would be on the other side.       "Peter, if this is about what happened earlier, I don't--" she began but was quickly breathless at the sight before her. Lord Lemuel, lanky and tall, stood before her with arms folded in front of his chest.       "Good evening, your majesty" he spoke. "I wish to speak with you of some rather curious matters. I hope I didn't interrupt anything of utmost importance." Eilonwy couldn't bring herself to respond with anything but a simple shake of her head. "Good! Good, good, good. Very good indeed" Lemuel then cooed. She caught his eyes shift to behind her, peering around her bedroom, and her entire body instantly broke out into a cold sweat. "What a precious little chamber you have, there. The kings and queens have definitely given you some stellar accomodations. Might I come in a moment?"       "Um, well that's...that's not really...I just, um..." she stammered but no amount of anxious protest could deter Lemuel as he easily pushed past her and slipped inside. By now, the maiden's heart was beating out of her chest, then leaping into her throat as a bony hand grasped the doorknob and the door slowly creaked shut.       "There. Much better" he hissed satisfactorily. Eilonwy backed up against her bedpost, wrapping her arms around it to steady herself.       "Y-you, uh, you said you wanted to speak with me...about something?" she mumbled, her voice almost a whisper.        "Yes! Yes, of course!" Lemuel replied, clapping his hands together as he seated himself on the vanity stool. "Now, you seem to be a very curious fixture here in Cair Paravel. You are of no royal blood or status, yet High King Peter seems to think rather highly of you. He speaks of you often in our discussions. I can't help but wonder, though, how you possibly came to be part of this family?"       "I-I'm not part of the family..." Eilonwy muttered. She didn't dare meet his eyes.       "Oh? Is that so? Then what is your significance in this castle?" Lemuel inquired.       "I-I'm..." Eilonwy started. She wanted to stand up straight, to lock eyes with him, to tell him of her brave deeds in the Battle of Beruna, her expert royal knowledge and advice, and her dear friendship with the kings and queens. However, her voice fell off and try as she might, she couldn't make a sound.       "You know, your majesty, there's nothing I hate more than being fed lies and I suspect that is exactly the case here with you and your little friends" Lemuel said. He ran a finger across her vanity, inspecting the dust on his finger, before his eyes darted back to the huntress. "You know what I think is going on here? I think you're a mystery that I am about to solve, Eilonwy. To think, you come out of nowhere as soon as Narnia's prophecy is broken, you are welcomed into Cair Paravel as if it was your own. You are human." With each word, Lemuel rose from his seat and inched closer and closer like a wildcat stalking his prey. His eyes burned holes through her skin, through her clothes, raising the hair on her arms and the back of her neck. "There haven't been any humans in Narnia for a hundred years, and I certainly know you are without a doubt of Narnian blood. I can see it in your face, in your demeanor, can hear it in your voice. I can see a lot of things in you..." By now, Lemuel was so close Eilonwy could smell his stale breath against her skin. He cupped a papery hand to her cheek, ran his fingers down her neck, then in one swift movement, pinned her to the bed with a dagger to her neck.       Eilonwy gasped and squirmed but the more she fought back, the harder Lemuel's grip became. She couldn't even scream for help.       "Don't try to fight me, Eilonwy, dear" Lemuel growled. "It'll only worsen this."       "W-what do you want with me?" Eilonwy gasped, barely able to form the words in her mouth.       "I know what you're hiding, witch! I know who you are! All the pieces fit, all the little tidbits of history! You are no mere human, and you are no councilman. You're a princess! A myth! A filthy little pest with secrets unknown to man!" he roared. "You accursed little monster! But now you are to get what you deserve. Now you are to rot along with the rest of your family, like you deserved to a hundred years ago! That is, unless you can give me what I want." Lemuel stared at her with insanity in his eyes, his hand shaking with desire. His eyes skated down from her face to her chest, cocking his head to the side. "I see you were not nearly as naturally endowed as your sisters were" he whispered.       "H-how do you--?" Eilonwy choked out.       "I am nothing if not a historian, my dear child. I know everything there is to know of the kings and queens of old, of your father Lorr and his brave feats. You seem to forget his brother's descendents are my neighbors, that your family's rich and catastrophic history are mainstays in education the world over. And that in every account, Princess Eilonwy's body was never found amongst her family. And yet now, here we are. I'm met with a young lady of the same name and stature as this little lost princess, in a land deprived of human life for a hundred years. It is only natural to wonder and assume!" Lemuel explained. "But now, oh now is when vengeance strikes! Now is when your secret gets out, little one. Tell me, princess, tell me of your immortality! Tell me of your eternal youth! Or it'll be your head."       Eilonwy could barely breathe, hands shaking at her sides. Her vision was growing spotty and a massive lump prohibited her from swallowing. At this point, she had given up on attempted escape, knowing that one false move would be the end of her. Ironic how her fearlessness of death fled when she was faced with the devil himself.       Lemuel gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on his blade. "Tell me!" he shouted, voice maddening, but just as he was about to slice, the door swung open and interrupted their scene.       "Get away from her!" Peter commanded, sword drawn.       "Or what? The little king will slap my palms?" Lemuel mocked. Susan, Edmund, and Lucy filtered in behind, weapons at the ready.       "Lemuel, you don't want to do this! Just back away from her and let's talk about this like civilized people" Susan begged.       "Who are you to say what I do and do not want? I am about to solve the greatest mystery in Narnian history: the girl who lived forever! I'll be famous! I'll be wealthy! And most importantly, I'll be immortal!" Lemuel raved. Susan looked to her older brother with disdain, and Peter replied with a gaze of hidden fear and concern.       "I thought we could trust you, Lord Lemuel!" Lucy shouted, obviously very distraught by the current scene.       "Don't trust so easily, little one! Or you could very well be handing your life to a wolf in sheep's clothing" Lemuel replied. "Now, you're all wasting my very precious time! Leave me now or Eilonwy's head won't be the only one that rolls" he threatened.       Peter sucked in a deep breath, tightening the grip on his sword. Just as he lunged forward with a horrible battle cry, however, the windows swung open and a black mass darted across the room. Lemuel fell backward, screaming in pain as a large raven flapped his wings furiously and began poking the lord's eyes out. Eilonwy screamed, recoiling to the other side of the bed and gasping for air. Peter's sword slammed into her bedpost, simply adding to the many notches that were already there.       "What on earth?!" Susan shouted, launching an arrow at the bird.       "No, stop!" Edmund begged, leaping forward to steady his sister's bow. "Don't hurt him!"       "Why shouldn't I?!" she protested.       "Susan, he's a friend!" Lucy exclaimed with a rather inappropriate dash of pride.       "Wait, what?" Edmund asked, whipping around to face his baby sister.       "He must be a friend! He's defending us!" Lucy explained. A wave of relief swept over Edmund, the tension releasing in his shoulders.       "What did you think she meant?" Susan asked. Edmund shook his head, but knew he could no longer keep the secret anymore.       "He's not just a friend, he's my friend" Edmund replied. "I'll explain it all later!"       The three of them rushed forward to join Peter in the scuffle, who by now had pulled his sword from the bed post and was aiming at a very distraught and newly blinded Lord Lemuel. The bird cawed and rose from the man's chest, perching himself on Eilonwy's vanity as he began wiping his beak clean.       "Perhaps now we understand what happens when we attempt to betray Narnia" Peter spoke, tone harsh and confident, his blade's tip mere centimeters from Lemuel's chest. The lord pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and wailed pitifully, staining his palms with blood.       "You don't understand! I had every right--!" he shouted.       "Well, I have every right to slaughter you this very instant!" Peter fired back. "And unless you and your men leave immediately, I just might." Just as Peter said this, Lemuel's henchmen peered through the doorway curiously, the cheesy grins painted on their faces contradicting the frowns of their actual mouths.       "We'll take care of the undesirables" Susan announced, ushering her siblings to follow her as she raced down the hall after them. Edmund and Lucy followed suit.       "This is unfair! This is brutality! This is--" Lemuel sobbed and complained, but Peter stopped him mid-sentence.       "Justice. This is the consequence for attempting to murder a member of House Pevensie and the Royal Order of the Lion. From this point onward, Lord Lemuel, you and your councilmen are forever unwelcome in Narnia. If my men or myself ever catch you on Narnian land ever again, we will compromise your life" Peter threatened. As he turned around, a handful of guards had entered the room curious as to what all the ruckus was about. "Get him out of my sight" Peter commanded, and the armored men did as they were told, tying Lemuel's hands behind his back and dragging his limp body out of the room.       Digging her nails into her palms, Eilonwy stood with her back pressed into the corner of the room, traumatized. As she tilted her head back, she tried to suck in a deep breath but couldn't bring herself to do it without gagging uncontrollably. Her face had turned a ghostly shade of white, eyes brimming with tears.       "Eilonwy, are you alright?" Peter spoke softly, inching towards her cautiously. She didn't respond. As he slid his sword back into his sheath, he slowly approached and took her hands in his, guiding her to the bed and sitting her down on the edge. "Eilonwy, listen to me: everything's alright. He's not going to hurt you now. He's gone. You're okay" he tried to reassure her, but she quickly shook her head and fought to breathe, tears rolling down her cheeks.       "N-no....no...he's still here. He'll always be here..." she whispered weakly.       "Ellie, what are you talking about?" he whispered back, brushing the hair away from her face.       "In here!" she shouted, slamming her palm against her forehead. "Always in here!"       "Hey, hey, hey, stop that" he scolded gently, taking her hand in his and moving it away from her head. "He doesn't have to be. He's gone now, you're safe. Nothing can harm you anymore. Come here." And with that, he pulled Eilonwy into his arms and hugged her close, stroking her hair and comforting her like a child who had just awoken from a terrible nightmare. A part of her wanted to break away from him and scream, to yell at him about his bad judgment and force him to apologize for wrongfully blaming her at the stables that morning, but it was late and she was far too tired, physically and emotionally, to argue. It would just have to wait until tomorrow.       As the sun sat high overhead, the Pevensies stood side by side on the balcony watching as the Maldonadians' ship disappeared over the horizon.       "It's such a shame" Lucy mumbled. "I was so hoping we could really be friends with them."       "Anyone who tries to kill one of us is no friend of ours, Lu" Edmund replied. "Besides, we made a much more valuable friend in the process" he then added, turning to look at Sallowpad swooping in from the south.       "Good day, your majesties!" he chirped happily. "Lovely day on the Eastern shore. Saying goodbye to our petty little friend? Oh well, just as they say, an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind!" Lucy chuckled at the bird's pun, already growing rather fond of him.       "Ed, by the way, how, exactly, did you two meet?" Susan then asked. Edmund swallowed hard, a part of him embarassed to tell the story, but before he could speak, Sallowpad jumped in and explained the whole ordeal in heroic fashion, making sure to build Edmund up as the most brilliant and scrappy king one could possibly be. His siblings nodded as they listened, very intrigued by the bird's tale, and by the time he was finished, all three had a very different perspective on some of Edmund's ideas.       "So, Ed" Peter began, a smile spreading across his face, "what do you say we have a go at that spy corporation of yours?" It was an offer the king didn't dare refuse.

#t: futgt #t: futgt c: five #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #fanfiction #narniaff

[temptation-narnia-chronicles]

From Upon the Golden Thrones

Episode 3: Outbreak, Part One

      Through dusty windowpanes, glass blue eyes absorbed the stretch of sea expanding before her, waves lapping against the shore and gulls cawing overhead. All that lies beyond the horizon is a mystery, but the valiant knows all too well of the horror hidden behind it. In the back of her mind, she sees blood churning into the sea, turning waves of blue into vicious red swells. Bodies dappled with buboes loaded into carts like fresh crops, sweaty brows and shaky hands and strained pleas for help, wailing children standing in the midst of hell itself. The quill fell from her hand and rolled onto the floor with a splattering of ink.

     "Queen Lucy!" a stern voice shouted, stirring the queen from her illusions. "I am not here to babble at the air so if you would please pay attention to your lessons...!" the disgruntled faun commanded. Lucy's cheeks went bright red as she frantically retrieved her quill and continued her notes, the nightmarish visions always at the back of her mind.       "Parcels for the Pevensies!" Hermes announced, swooping upon the balcony with saddlebags of letters strapped to his back. The young kings and queens rushed forward to retrieve their mail, Edmund's face lighting up at the sight of his very own message.       "Word from Nefyn?" Susan asked, cocking a brow. Edmund blushed and scowled at his sister.       "For your information, I like having a pen pal. And that's all she is: a pal" Edmund corrected.       "Whatever you say, Ed. Just inform us of the wedding date" Peter jested. His brother shot him a glare and lightly punched him in the shoulder before retreating inside to read his letter in private. However, Lucy watched him disappear with great focus as if she was deeply interested in what the centaurette had to say.       "Hey, Lu? Are you okay? You've been awfully distracted these days" Susan questioned. Snapping back to reality, Lucy gasped and nodded vigorously.       "Oh, yes! I'm fine, thanks. Just been thinking a lot, I guess" she replied.       "I'll say. I heard Professor Arcadian harping at you earlier" Peter added.       "He's a very unpleasant faun..." Lucy said quietly.       "I wouldn't be surprised if he thwacked you right on the head one of these days for not paying attention. What were you even thinking about in there, anyways?" said Peter. Lucy averted her eyes and clasped her hands together tightly. The High King could tell she didn't quite want to say but that made him even more concerned. Lucy had gotten into a very bad habit of keeping secrets these days and he was not fond of it at all.       "Lucy, you know we won't get mad at you, whatever it is that's bothering you" Susan reassured. The valiant queen sighed and turned her attention to the ocean beyond.       "I guess I've just been thinking an awful lot about Galma" she said, tone soft and cautious. Ever since Aesop and Nefyn had left a fortnight earlier, Galma was all she could think about. She had no clue what kind of sickness had taken hold of the island but she felt disgustingly compelled to help in whatever way possible. How could she live with herself knowing she had the cure to every sickness and injury right at her hip, yet stood idly by while people were dying? Her hand lightly grazed the cordial strapped to her belt.       "Lucy, we can't go and you know that" Peter stated. "What about our own health? We can't risk getting sick, too. The best thing is to just let Aesop and Nefyn do whatever it is they do over there and we keep to our corner."       "But I don't want to keep to my corner! We have to help them!" Lucy countered, whipping around to face her brother. He could see the desperation glossing over her eyes, her indescribable need to heal. Not even that could convince Peter otherwise.       "Lucy, it's too dangerous. I'm saying no, end of story" he stated. His voice was hard and firm but Susan could sense the underlying waver in his tone. He really didn't want to be so harsh with her but at the same time, he was the High King. He had a duty to uphold and that included protecting his family from whatever may come their way.       The youngest Pevensie pursed her lips, eyes welling with tears, as she clenched her fists at her side. "People are dying, Peter" was all she murmured before pushing past both him and Susan and rushing inside.       "Well that was nicely handled" Susan retorted, gathering her skirts and rushing after her sister. Bursting through the double doors, she passed a rather confused Eilonwy on her way to the balcony.       "I take it I missed something here?" she asked the moment she reached Peter. He nodded. "What was it this time?"       "Lucy wants to go to Galma" he replied, leaning against the railing. The sea was so vast and unforgiving, the blues of it reflected in the High King's tired eyes.       "And you won't let her" Eilonwy added. Peter nodded. "Reasonable enough, I presume. She's young, they're deadly. It's only natural to want to protect her."       "Exactly!" Peter exclaimed. "Why doesn't she see that? Why am I the bad guy here when all I want is her safety? She's very 'throw caution to the wind', you know."       Eilonwy nodded, slowly gliding up beside the king to rest her elbows on the railing. "What would happen to all of them?" she asked, staring off into the distance. Peter sighed.       "I don't know. Death, I guess" he mumbled. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't even know why it upset him so much. After all, it wasn't his country. They weren't his people. Galma was an entire nation on their own that Peter and his siblings had no jurisdiction over. It wasn't his duty to care for them. Yet he hated the fact that deep down, he did care. "You know, I really don't want to talk about this right now."       "You started it" Eilonwy said back, a slight chuckle in her voice. She turned her back to the sea and rested it against the railing, staring through the double doors into the great room. Peter furrowed his brows at her and shook his head.        "You know, you are irritatingly collected" he replied.        "Good. That means I'm succeeding in deceiving you" she said and with that, sauntered off into the castle to leave Peter on a cliffhanger.

     "So, Ed" Susan started at dinner that night. "What did Nefyn have to say? Anything you're able to exploit without revealing the secret nature of your romance?" The rest of the table softly chuckled. Edmund's cheeks grew red.       "For the last time, we are just friends! Nothing more, nothing less. And as for whatever she's said, I'm sorry I can't tell you" the just replied.       "And why not? Is it too inappropriate? Are you exchanging mushy love letters back and forth?" Lucy teased. Edmund groaned and rolled his eyes.       "Listen, Lu, of all the people who shouldn't know the content of the letter, you should be kept from it most of all" her brother stated. A strange look crossed Lucy's face, one of confusion and shock but not exactly rooted in any specific emotion. One couldn't quite tell whether she was offended or if his words further piqued her curiosity.        After a few moments of awkward silence, the littlest Pevensie finally spoke up. "Fine, then" she said, crossing her arms and leaning back into her chair. "I don't need to know anyways. Your relationship is none of my business, after all." Edmund bit his lips, turning his eyes back to his food. He hated seeing Lucy so...whatever she was but knew she'd be even more upset had she known the things Nefyn told him. She wasn't ready to hear such harsh words yet. The rest of the dinner was met with silence.

     A knock on the door. "Peter? Might I come in for a moment?"       The High King looked up from his papers, eyes bloodshot and sleepy, and ushered his guest inside. He didn't really care who it was-- he was too tired to identify the voice-- but instantly perked up when he saw none other than Eilonwy enter the room. The moment she stepped inside, he sat up a little straighter and attempted to groom the hair out of his face. No matter what he tried, he still looked like a mess.       "Burning the midnight oil, I presume?" Eilonwy stated with a smirk, sinking into the nearby corner chair. Peter chuckled and shrugged.       "I suppose. I swear, there are never enough hours in the day to go through so much paperwork" he replied. Eilonwy leaned forward to take a look at some of them but Peter instantly snatched them away. "Excuse you, that is confidential information restricted to the kings and queens."       "Sorry, Mr. Bossypants. I suppose my former royal title bears no significance on the situation, then?" she shot back. Peter sighed and shook his head. "No, I'm afraid it doesn't. Your title went defunct a hundred years ago." Though his words seemed harsh, his tone was playful and Eilonwy took no offense. Or at least she tried not to.       Rolling her eyes, she leaned back in her chair and replied, "You'd think so many years of experience would be quite the asset to a child king such as yourself. Maybe I'd be of more use to Lune in Archenland?"       "You would go to Archenland?" Peter asked. Eilonwy nodded.       "If they needed me over there more, then perhaps, yes."       "You wouldn't leave."       "How can you be so sure?"       "Well...well, because!" Peter stammered. "Because you belong here, in Narnia. You're Narnian by blood and by title and so this is where you should be."       "By a title that went defunct a hundred years ago, right?" she replied snarkily.       "...Very funny" Peter said back, exasperated. After a few moments of quiet, he added, "Would you really ever leave?"       Eilonwy shrugged. "As it currently stands, I've got no place else to go. The Beavers dam is basically kindling by now. Tumnus's place is off the market. There's really no place else I could see myself retreating to and after all, what could compare to a palace like this? Nothing in the world. So for now, I'll stay put" she explained. Peter captured a hint of sadness in her voice, as if she was only halfheartedly saying such things, but knew better than to ask of it.       With eyes downcast, he simply nodded and replied quietly, "Well, we certainly like you here. I like you here." Eilonwy shot him a glare of disbelief. "Truly, I do. If it wasn't for you, Lucy would probably be deathly ill from sleeplessness. I never did say thank you for what you did a few weeks ago."         "It was nothing, really" she murmured. "Just so happened to be in the right place at the right time, I suppose."       "But it's not nothing, Eilonwy. Without you, Lucy never would've gotten the relief she so desperately needed. You cured her and I will always be grateful to you for that" Peter replied.       Uncomfortable with the praise, Eilonwy tucked her hair back behind her ear and shook her head, eyes set on the floor. "I was only the messenger. It's really Hattie and Tumnus you should be thanking. They're the ones who did all the hard work. I was just the recruiter, so to speak. I don't deserve any recognition."       Peter rolled his eyes, growing frustrated. Why couldn't she just accept the compliments he was feeding her? She deserved to know she did a good thing and that he and his siblings appreciated her for it. But then again, it was getting late and the last thing he wanted was to argue.       "What are you going to do about her, anyways?" Eilonwy replied.       "About who?" Peter asked.       "Lucy."       "What about her?"       "Oh, please don't tell me you're that dense, Peter. Galma?"       Peter sighed and tossed his head back, pressing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "Not you, too" he groaned. "Listen, I've made my decision. We're not going. Lucy can complain all she wants but I can't risk her or any of the rest of us getting sick or worse..." He didn't even need to finish his sentence for Eilonwy to know what else he meant to say.       "I understand your concern but isn't this a little childish?" she countered. "This won't be the first time something like this happens and you need to decide what you're going to do from a kingly perspective before something else arises. Peter the brother says 'Stay for the safety of my family' but what does Peter the king have to say?"       "The same exact thing!" Peter replied.      "You're not thinking politically" Eilonwy spat. "Galma is in distress. It's been in distress for decades. Once Narnia went under, Galma had no one to follow. They broke off from us long ago and we've had severed ties ever since. They're a struggling nation, impoverished. Many of their people tried to get into trade with the other islands in hopes of boosting the economy but the grounds are rather infertile so all they can really manage are textiles and livestock, which even then aren't that great. This epidemic was years in the making, the result of poor living conditions and life dealing them a shitty hand. So you basically have two options here, Peter Pevensie. You can choose to either help them and restore Galma's relations with Narnia or you can ignore them, let everyone die, and forever be known to the Galmans as a careless, selfish fool whose help they didn't need anyways. You can take your time choosing which one of these people you want to be but you better choose fast and choose wisely because unlike many other things, this is actually a matter of life or death. Think about it." And with that, Eilonwy rose and exited the room, leaving Peter to drown in her thick, honest words. Little did she know, however, he wasn't the only one who heard her.

     "Hey, Peter, have you seen Lucy?" Susan inquired the next morning. "I've searched everywhere for her but haven't been able to find her."       "She wasn't asleep?" Peter questioned. He knew his sister well enough to know she was an early riser but still, a tiny thread of him hoped she was still catching up on all the hours she had missed not so long ago during her bout of insomnia. Susan shook her head.       "Her bed was made as perfectly as ever."       "Maybe she went out riding" Edmund replied, waltzing into the room with his breakfast.       "Have you checked the stables?" Peter asked Susan. The gentle averted her eyes and shook her head.       "Alright, well that's the one place I haven't looked but how do you know her horse won't be there?" she replied, glancing to her brothers.       "I don't" Edmund replied as he bit into his pancake. "I just assume that it's a beautiful day outside, the weather is nice, maybe she'd want to go on a morning ride."       "Smart choice that would be, a little girl alone out in the woods. If she was to have gone riding, why didn't she tell any of us? Or at least leave a note?" Peter muttered.       "Again, check the stables" Edmund replied. Susan shot Edmund a glare and rolled her eyes, feeling as if his sass was rather inappropriate for the current circumstances, before rushing off down the hallway. Peter followed suit.       The stables were just as they always were with horses braying and neighing and nibbling on oats. Besnik, Peter's unicorn, stamped his hooves against the hay scattered across the ground.       "We should go out looking for her" Peter suggested, petting the unicorn's muzzle. Just as Susan opened her mouth to speak, however, the sound of hooves approached from behind. Filled with hope, both whipped around with exclamations of Lucy!       "Morning" an underwhelming voice greeted. "Lovely morning, yeah?" Eilonwy hopped from her mare's back, leading Everlast into her pen.       "What are you doing here?" Susan inquired.       "What? Can't I go for a morning ride?" Eilonwy joked, stroking the horse's flank.       "Please tell me Lucy was with you" Peter begged. Eilonwy cocked a brow.       "No...sorry. Why? Has she been playing another round of hide and seek again? You know, she's getting rather good" Eilonwy said. If there was one thing she knew the valiant to be a master of, it was hide and seek. Lucy had recruited many of the staff and her siblings into multiple games a week around the castle which, considering it's size, was a dream come true. Eilonwy, however, always had a knack for finding her. After all, she knew Cair Paravel better than anyone else.        Susan grimaced at the thought of Lucy playing such games, as if her sister would scare her to death quite so much with something so childish. She would need to give the young queen a stern talking to once all of this was finished. "Maybe we should set up search parties, scour the castle for her" she suggested. Peter nodded in approval.       "I'll search the training grounds, see if she's trying her hand at archery or something" Peter offered.       "Good. I'll check the library. Maybe she's searching for something to read" Susan added. "Eilonwy, you go look in the parlor and see if she's hiding in there."       The moment Susan mentioned it, Eilonwy's back stiffened. Her heart nearly leapt from her chest, eyes wild with panic. She would be more than happy to look anywhere else. Absolutely anywhere. Breath hitching in her throat, she leaned against the post by Everlast's stall in hopes of keeping her balance. Eilonwy opened her mouth to protest but no sound came out.       "I don't think she'd be in the parlor and even if she was, Eilonwy shouldn't go looking for her there" Peter jumped in. Susan eyed him suspiciously, wanting to ask why not but was interrupted by Peter yet again. "You know, if you think it's really worth checking, I'll go look in the parlor and Eilonwy can check the training grounds. Does that sound alright?" He turned to the maiden for approval. She nodded vigorously, relief sweeping across her face. Peter met her with a brief, satisfied smile. Susan, however, watched in confusion. Another fragment of the strange puzzle that made up Eilonwy's secretive life.       "Fine, then. I don't care who looks where so long as we keep looking" Susan said firmly. She looked to her brother and friend for a brief moment before nodding once and turning off to do her duty. The moment she was out of sight, Eilonwy sighed in gratitude and gripped Peter's arm tightly, letting her knees buckle and thanking him profusely.       "I swear, if she had made me go in there, I would've died!" she whined.       Peter chuckled and shook his head. If he were anyone else, he'd think she was being far too overdramatic. Instead, he simply smiled and said, "You're welcome." She looked up at him for a moment and in that instance, felt warmth rush to her cheeks. There was a certain sparkle in his eyes, whether from the early morning sunlight or from his kindness, that fed her with hope that perhaps that desire she hoped to find again had returned to his gaze. Before she could truly decide, however, the moment was gone. Peter turned his attention away, cleared his throat. "We better get going. No time to waste" he quickly said before motioning towards the castle and urging Eilonwy onward.       "Any luck?" Susan asked later that morning. Bejeweled fingers tangled in her skirts, gripping the fabric tightly in anticipation.      "Nothing" Peter replied somberly.      "She wasn't in the training fields, either" Eilonwy added. Susan tossed her head back and groaned.       "Well, it's a big castle. She could be anywhere. Maybe she's on the move. It could be days before we track her down!" the gentle panicked.       "Or it could be minutes" a voice interrupted. The three of them whipped around to find Edmund standing in the hallway accompanied by the unexpected. Rather than standing hand in hand with their baby sister, he instead held up a note creased down the middle. In a wave of desperation, Susan rushed forward and snatched it from his hands. As she skimmed every letter, her heart pulsed faster and faster in her chest before she reached the end and broke.      "This is all your fault!" she shouted, whipping around to face Peter.      "My fault?! Susan, what are you talking about? Give me that!" he shouted back, taking the letter for himself.       "What? What is it?" Eilonwy inquired. All the commotion was hiking up her own panic. "What's it say?"       Peter sped through the letter, hands beginning to tremble, before he crumpled the note and cursed under his breath. The maiden eyed him expectantly. "She's gone to Galma."

     "I can't believe this! How could she have disobeyed me like this?" Peter rambled, pacing. Eilonwy's eyes followed him back and forth, arms crossed as she seated herself on his bed, as if she was watching a tennis match.       "Apparently Lucy's valiance knows no bounds" she remarked. The High King shot her a glare.       "I can't believe this. I just cannot believe this" he repeated. His fingers tangled in his golden hair and gripped the locks at the root with a groan. His eyes, bloodshot and blue, stared at the Persian rug on the floor of his bed chamber, studying the intricate designs and rich hues. He dug the toe of his boot into the carpeting before kicking at the tasseled edge. "How did she even manage any of this anyways? What did she do? Take a rowboat and go over there herself? I can't believe she went over there. I can't believe it."       A knot tightened in Eilonwy's chest. There was something about seeing Peter so frustrated that honestly scared her. There was a wildness in him, this untamed panic, that bristled the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck, sent chills down her spine and churned her stomach. She wrapped a lock of hair around her finger until it turned blue and bit her lip nervously. "So...what are you going to do about it, then?"       "What do you mean 'what am I going to do?' There's only one thing to do!" Peter shouted. "I have to go over there and bring her back! Even if she comes back kicking and screaming." Eilonwy startled slightly at the inclination of his voice, imagining him dragging the protesting little queen by her ankles aboard the royal ship. "I'll order Tumnus to send out a message. Gather the troops, bring together a crew, get the ship ready to depart." Eilonwy nodded minutely. There was something grotesquely ironic about their upcoming voyage, she thought. The Pevensies first trip on the royal ship, the Splendor Hyaline, and they weren't even venturing off for a pleasure cruise like the vessel's original intent.       "I guess I ought to go and pack my things, then" Eilonwy murmured, standing and shuffling toward the door. Peter instantly shot her a questioning look. "Oh, don't tell me you're quarantining me here, are you?"       "There's no way you're coming along!" Peter countered.       "And why not?" Eilonwy shot back.       "Because! Nobody is coming along! It'll be just me and a small crew, nothing more. The smaller the group, the safer. You are not included" Peter spat. Something broke inside Eilonwy's chest and she abruptly grew uncertain of whether she wanted to cry or scream. She did her best to hold back either.       Furrowing her brows, she stared Peter down-- or up, considering he was much taller than her-- and clenched her fists at her side. "You know, I don't know why you have such a problem with including me in these sorts of things. What is it? Are you afraid I'm too fragile? That I'll get hurt or sick or something? I'm much stronger than you give me credit for, Peter. Remember Beruna?"       "Yes, I remember Beruna. When you deliberately disobeyed my orders and snuck into battle. And got hurt. That's exactly what I'm trying to prevent from happening, Eilonwy. I already have Lucy to worry about, I don't have any extra energy to worry about your health, too" Peter snarled. By now, the look in his eyes had gone completely mental. He was a man on the brink of losing it but Eilonwy still didn't heed the warnings. She was far too proud to let him tell her what she could and could not do.       "You seem to forget my unholy affliction. I was fine for a hundred years and I'll be fine now. I'll see you aboard the ship at dawn. I hope tomorrow morning you're far less disagreeable than you are now or else this is going to be a rather long and grueling journey" Eilonwy replied, voice sharp and low. And with that, she turned and exited the room. It wasn't until she was well down the hall, nearly to her own chambers, that she let herself break.       She hated thinking of poor, sweet little Lucy Pevensie in such an awful place, surrounded by so many of the dying. How many could she possibly heal before her cordial runs out? Fireflowers aren't exactly a renewable resource. She thought of the young queen running herself ragged trying to cure every person she could, much like she did after the Battle of Beruna. She thought of all those people, vomit crusted to the corners of their mouths and puss oozing from black, swollen masses. The kind of images you see in horror films. The kind of images little girls aren't supposed to be a part of. Eilonwy didn't even want to imagine what would happen if the valiant queen fell ill. It was far too soon after their coronation for a royal funeral, nonetheless for someone so young. But Eilonwy couldn't think like that. For all she knew, Lucy could be perfectly fine. Splendid, even. And it wasn't like she was alone, either. She had Aesop and Nefyn. They'd take good care of her...wouldn't they?       Peter's thoughts ran in parallel to Eilonwy's as he collapsed on his bed and buried his face in the duvet. He thought of all the times he had nearly lost her: when she was two and someone left the backyard gate open, age five when she crashed her bike and scraped up her face, age seven when she forgot to tell anyone she was going to a friend's after school, age ten when the air raids began. And then in Narnia, when she slipped out of her coat in the frozen river. For as long as he could remember, he has been saving Lucy time and time again. But what if, this time, he's unable to rescue her? What if this is when he really does lose her? An image of her, frail and sick, flashed through his brain and made him queasy. He pounded his fist against the mattress and cursed under his breath, hot tears rising behind his eyes. He willed them away but was unsuccessful. They came pouring down his cheeks in great sobs. He had to remind himself that no one could see him cry in the privacy of his own room. If he had been around Susan and Edmund and Eilonwy, he would never let himself break down like this. It would be too lame. He was the High King of Narnia, for Aslan's sake. He was supposed to be strong, stony-faced, unyielding. But behind closed doors, he was still just a boy. A little kid. Perhaps Eilonwy was right about him. Perhaps he couldn't do this on his own after all. But then he remembered Aslan, remembered standing beside the great lion on the the precipice of Beruna, Cair Paravel glistening in the setting sunlight. He remembered what the lion had told him, of how he personally appointed Peter to be High King. Aslan must have seen some kind of potential in him. He wouldn't have assigned Peter such a role if he didn't think the boy could handle it, right? Or perhaps Aslan was just far too cruel and wanted to see Peter suffer. He wasn't quite sure which. It was getting late and his eyes burned and he had gotten very little sleep in the past month. All his thoughts were beginning to jumble together like a chalk drawing after a rainstorm, blurring the lines between sanity and lunacy. He kicked off his boots and coiled himself around his blankets, cocooning himself like a swaddled infant, and sinking into desperation. He asked himself "What would Lucy do?" She seemed to have far more faith in Aslan than her siblings combined. Suddenly, almost involuntarily, he clasped his hands together and found himself praying.       "Aslan...please watch over my sister for me...please...keep her safe. I can't...I can't imagine losing her...I need her to stay safe...please" he whispered softly. Peter felt like an absolute idiot-- how could Aslan possibly hear him?-- but it was as if his body was acting independent from his brain. He continued to mutter "Please...please, please..." through teary eyes until the words became inaudible whimpers and then nothingness as he slowly fell asleep.

     Sunlight glittered across the ocean as the Splendor Hyaline prepared for it's voyage. The High King climbed to the highest deck, tired eyes scanning the horizon. His heart raced in his chest as he hoped for a steadfast journey. So long as I get to Lucy...       "Enjoying the view?" a voice called from behind him. Peter whipped around to find Eilonwy behind him, arms crossed, smirk stretched on her lips. He rolled his eyes but not before looking her up and down: she was dressed much like a man in trousers and an oversized shirt, boots slouching down around her skinny ankles. Everything about her was skinny, especially without a dress to hide everything in. After a few moments passed without words, Eilonwy cocked an eyebrow suspiciously, cueing Peter to finally respond.       "As much as I can, I suppose" he shrugged. Eilonwy chuckled softly, skated beside him, patting him on the back a little too hard. Her sinewy arms fell over the edge of the railing as she gazed off toward the Eastern Sea.       "Galma should be a two day trip, tops. Captain Guildmore seems rather optimistic" she stated. Peter glanced back toward the main deck, watching the crew scatter and unite. In the midst of it all stood the strong outline of Captain Guildmore, face stony and voice commanding. In all honesty, Peter was a little fearful of him. He appeared powerful and dark. He was a force to be reckoned with. Guildmore was recruited shortly after the Pevensie's coronation, recommended by Aslan himself for his vast knowledge and lengthy experience. He was a beast shrouded in mystery, origins unknown, and that made Peter even more wary of him. How was he meant to trust someone he knew nothing about? He already knew the answer: Aslan. The great lion would not have suggested his appointment had he not trusted the man. So for now, Peter had to settle.       The High King pursed his lips and clenched his hands together. "Two days cannot pass fast enough" he murmured. Eilonwy glanced his way peripherally, twiddling her thumbs over the edge. She could see the fear in Peter eyes, the panic coursing through his veins and twitching in his limbs. She remembered last night, the way he cracked in front of her. She wondered if he'd kick her off the ship before their departure. He hadn't said anything so far.       After an awkward beat of silence, Eilonwy opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by an abrupt commotion from behind. Whipping around simultaneously, both Peter and Eilonwy's eyes darted straight to the source of the sound: a massive uproar began amidst the crewsmen, a chaotic sea of flailing and fighting in the very center of the deck. Peter's eyes widened, disgusted by such a scene. Instinct told him to jump into the fray but before he could get very far, a small but strong hand gripped his forearm and pulled him back. Questioning eyes landed on the maiden beside him, Eilonwy shaking her head no. He almost felt offended but all was finished before the emotion could fully form. She cocked her head back towards the scene, ushering Peter to watch. Guildmore grimaced from the other end of the ship and strode toward the commotion, but somehow it was not him who stopped the altercation. A glittering presence floated across the deck, long hair pulled back and skirts swishing like the ocean itself. Her seafoam gaze was not hard and piercing but harshly alarmed, disappointed. The moment the men saw her, they backed off one another, faces red, wringing their hands together nervously.       "What is all this about?" Queen Susan demanded. She eyed each one of the crew members, awaiting an answer.       "N-Nothing, your highness" a faun spoke up. Just then, Edmund sidled up beside his sister, luggage in tow.       "What's going on here?" he asked.       "These men apparently haven't been getting along very well" Susan replied, side-eyeing the crew. They all averted their gaze, digging hooves and toes into the floorboards.       "Will I have to shorten my staff?" Guildmore's booming voice then inquired. A wave of panic spread through the group.       "N-no, sir" the same faun replied.       "Then what is the meaning of this...uproar?" the Captain asked. Silence befell them. His gaze hardened.      "J-just a little simple rough-housing sir. Nothing to be concerned about" another finally spoke up.       "We promise it won't happen again, sir. Nothing of the sort!" yet another added.       Guildmore was obviously not convinced, but the sun was rising higher in the sky and he had more important things concerning him. It was surely half past nine and that meant they were running late. If there was one thing Guildmore hated, it was running late. With a harsh shout, he commanded his men to raise the anchor, hoist the sails, prepare for the voyage ahead.       From the highest deck, Peter watched in awe but it wasn't Guildmore's commanding presence that captivated him. It was his brother and sister's. Breaking free of Eilonwy's grasp, he barrelled down the stairs toward them, eyes wild and hands shaking. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked.       "What do you mean?" Edmund replied.       "You're not supposed to be here!" Peter shouted. Inside him, something was slowly unraveling once more.       "Peter, if you think for one second that we're not coming with you, then you're dead wrong" Susan said. "She's our sister, too, you know. We're just as worried about her as you are."       Peter opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. Just then, Eilonwy bounded forward, leaping beside Peter and placing her hands on his high shoulders as if to restrain him. "Why, what a quaint little surprise!" she exclaimed happily. "Fancy seeing you aboard. I wasn't sure if you'd both be joining us or not. Peter here never mentioned anything of it!"       "I'm not surprised" Edmund muttered. The just glanced to Susan before dragging their trunks across the deck. Eilonwy's eyes followed him to the door for a moment before he and his luggage disappeared below. Once gone, her eyes then glanced back and forth between Peter and Susan, their palpable tension swelling.       An assertion of dominance surged from Susan's glass blue eyes, gaze locked on that of her older brother. Eilonwy could feel the muscles in his neck and upper back contract, palms forming fists at his sides. Finally, Susan adjusted her gaze to Eilonwy, softening, and asked politely, "Eilonwy, would you mind if I spoke to my brother in private?"       The maiden squeezed Peter's shoulders briefly, as if to silently request he retain his temper, before immediately raising her hands and backing off. "Of course, your majesty. Take all the time you need. Uh, Peter...if you need me, I'll just be, uh, off getting...settled." She didn't exactly feel comfortable leaving him behind, certain his anger would explode, but had to remind herself it was not her place. She was not Peter's keeper. Hell, he was the goddamn High King. He didn't need her hovering. He could manage on his own.       As night fell across the Great Eastern Ocean, and the Splendor Hyaline sailed closer to it's destination, tensions ceased to disintegrate. The kings and queen ate dinner in silence, leaving Edmund to glance between his older siblings wishing he could say something but unsure exactly what. And when he did finally think of something, Eilonwy eyed him suspiciously as if warning him that he'd make matters worse. Though he had authority over her, Edmund had a hard time disobeying Eilonwy. She may no longer really be royalty, but she had been a princess nonetheless and a warrior princess, at that. He'd never be able to look at her without thinking of Beruna and that give him even more incentive to stay on her good side lest she lose her temper someday.       The minute Peter had finished his dessert, he threw his spoon onto the table and rose abruptly. "If you'd excuse me, I'm going to go get some much needed rest. I'll see you all in the morning" he said rather professionally, though there was no hiding that undertone of frustration still boiling from deep within his chest. All eyes watched him depart. As soon as he was out of sight, Susan heaved a sigh and buried her face in her hands. Eilonwy's heart raced in her chest. If the gentle queen was about to start crying, she needed to escape and fast. However, and much to Eilonwy's relief, Susan shortly raised her head, pressed her hands together tightly, and then rose.       "I think I'd better get some rest, too. It's been a long day. Goodnight, Ed. Goodnight, Eilonwy" she said quietly and then she was gone.       The dining room fell into an awkward silence for a few long and torturous minutes. Edmund stared at his empty plate, swirling the frosting remains around with the tongs of his fork, before glancing to Eilonwy. It wasn't until she felt his eyes on her that she turned to look at him, too. The moment they locked eyes, something coursed between the both of them and suddenly, they found themselves both struggling to restrain an inappropiate fit of laughter.       "I haven't seen Pete and Su so tense since the time Lucy found Narnia!" Edmund murmured between chuckles.       "So they're always like this then?" Eilonwy replied.      Edmund shook his head. "Not always. But Peter's probably just cheesed off because we came along when he didn't want us to. Not that he said anything to me, but we both know what he was after."      Eilonwy nodded. "I understand. He nearly refused my accompaniment on this journey, as well" she stated.       "I'm not surprised" said Edmund. "Peter likes to think he can take everything on all by himself. When our dad went off to war, Mum kind of appointed him the man of the house and ever since, he's considered himself like Dad's replacement."       Though she knew the point he was trying to make, something about Edmund's words struck a cord in Eilonwy's chest. She envisioned Peter's father, who looked almost identical to him save for broader shoulders and a stronger jaw, decked out in a strange uniform bidding farewell to his children. Keep your mum and siblings safe for me, Pete. You're the man of the house now. A pat on the shoulder, supposedly reassuring but subconsciously mixed with a pinch of condescension. In that instant, Eilonwy felt utterly compelled.       "Peter? Can I speak with you a moment?" she called through the oaken doors. Her hands were shaking at her sides as she waited in the hallway. A moment of silence, a skipped heartbeat. Then, slowly, the door creaked open. "What do you want?" he snapped, poking his head out.       A huff. "I want to talk to you, you idiot. Now, come on. Let me in" Eilonwy demanded.       Peter sighed and rested his forehead against the doorframe, blocking her entrance. "Eilonwy, come on. Is this really necessary? I'm tired. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Goodn--"       "No! We need to talk right now. Come on. Open it up" she interrupted, coaxing him away from the door. Peter glared at her but was far too exhausted to protest further. Defeated, he stepped aside and swung the door open wider.       Eilonwy waltzed right inside and made herself comfortable, catapulting onto the edge of the bed. "Peter, I think we need to discuss some things. Speak to me."       "There's nothing to discuss" he quickly replied. Eilonwy cocked an eyebrow, not convinced. Peter did his best to stare her down, hoping she'd back off, but deep down he knew better. There was no breaking her. When she wanted something, she fought for it. With a sigh, he sunk into the chair in the corner of the room and rubbed his temples. "I'm just frustrated, is all."       "About...?"       "About everything!" Peter exclaimed. "I'm a horrible king. There's always too much to be done. Nobody even listens to me!"       "People listen to you, Peter" Eilonwy tried to reassure him.       "If people listened to me, none of you would be on this ship right now" Peter shot back. Eilonwy narrowed her eyes, waiting for him to continue. "It's bad enough you're here, let alone Su and Ed! I already have Lucy to worry about. What if any of you get sick, too? If you'd all have just listened to me--"       "Peter! Coming was our decision, not yours" the maiden interrupted.      "Well, my decision overwrites your decision! I never wanted any of you to come along but you all did it anyways. Do you have any idea how much more stress that puts on my shoulders?" he argued.       "Why does this always come back to you, Peter? Are you incapable of thinking of anyone but yourself?" Eilonwy shouted.       Peter's eyes widened, his face turning red. For a moment, he was dead silent. Then, jaw clenched, "You have no idea what or who I think about" he growled.       "I know enough" Eilonwy spat.      Peter's eyes hardened as he stood and walked toward the door. "I think you ought to leave."       "I'm not going anywhere" Eilonwy said defiantly. Her and Peter locked eyes in one overwhelming moment, harsh gazes pounding against one another.       "I don't have to put up with this, you know. I'm the High King!" Peter said.       "Oh, yes! Everyone knows you're the High King! You don't let anyone forget it!" Eilonwy mocked him. "If you're so high and mighty, then, then perhaps you can learn to have a little empathy for once! You're not the only one who cares about Lucy, you know!" The maiden's voice grew higher and higher in volume until she was standing with fists clenched at her sides and eyes wild with fury. "You know what? I can't even stand to look at you right now!" she shouted before finally surging out the door.       "Good!" Peter shouted after her. "And while you're at it, you might as well not even return to Cair Paravel once this is all said and done!"       "Believe me, by now I'm seriously considering it!" she screamed over her shoulder. Her chamber door slammed shut and the entire corridor was drenched in darkness. In the company of no one, Peter was reminded of how truly alone he was. His chest felt tight and his hands were trembling. Somehow he was pushing away everyone he loved, but then again nobody he loved seemed to understand. Overwhelmed by exhaustion, he slowly closed his door and crawled into bed.       Staring at the ceiling, Eilonwy couldn't stop herself from replaying their argument over and over again. Resting a hand to her chest, she waited for her heartbeat to slow but to no avail. Panic coursed through her veins, Peter's words echoing in her ears. And while you're at it, you might as well not even return to Cair Paravel once this is all said and done! "Yeah, well I wouldn't have had to if it wasn't for your stupid prophecy, you douche" she whispered to herself. The clock in the corner ticked monotonously, the flicker of candlelight illuminating the time. 10:34pm. Though she was hardly tired, Eilonwy extinguished the flame and willed herself to get some sleep. At least in her dreams, she wouldn't be haunted by such harsh words. Or so she thought.       The black of unconsciousness dissipated to stark light as Eilonwy blinked her eyes open. The sky above was bright and brilliant and blue, a perfect summer day. "Good morning, sleepyhead" a familiar voice cooed. The maiden turned to see her sister Helene sitting beside her, golden locks upswept in a generically formal style. Her long fingers reached down to pluck daisies from the damp earth, twirling the stems around like rings and snipping the petals away with dainty precision. As Eilonwy propped herself up on her elbows, the whole of the Narnian shore spanned before her. For the first time in a long time, she was speechless by it's beauty.       "Where's mother? Papa?" Eilonwy asked. Her heart was beginning to rise in her throat with excitement-- how she longed to see them again! Helene simply giggled that stupid, girlish giggle she did when flirting with suitors and barrelled down the coast, forcing Eilonwy to rush after her. Chiffon skirts swayed in the sea breeze and tangled between her legs, their translucent fabric mimicking the swell and fall of the ocean itself. As the pair grew nearer to Cair Paravel, they came into view: mother and father standing in the beach grass watching as their daughters splashed each other wildly. Without any reservations, Helene leapt into the ocean water, dress ballooning around her waistline. A smile like the crescent moon spread across Amalthea's lips, shrieking with laughter as Elara chased her deeper into the sea. Andrastea grinned wildly at the sight of her baby sister, slapping at Elara's arm to alert her of her presence. The moment Elara's eyes landed on Eilonwy, a scream of joy burst from within her and she scrambled up onto the beach to greet the maiden.       "Ellie, dear! Isn't it such a beautiful day?" she gushed. There was something off about her, though. Something in her eyes. Eilonwy nodded quietly, glancing to her other sisters. In one swift movement, Elara scooped Eilonwy's hands up in hers and tugged her toward the beach. "The water's perfect! Just like a bath! Say you'll join us? Pretty please?"       "W-well, I don't know. I'm not really dressed for--" Eilonwy started but was quickly interrupted.       "Oh, come now, Ellie! Just a quick dip! You've never worried about ruining your clothes before!" Elara said. Despite her protest, Eilonwy wasn't given much of a choice. Elara's grip had become uncharacteristically strong as she dragged Eilonwy nearer and nearer to the water. In the distance, her sisters danced and sang and cooed her forward, voices like lullabies, melodic and perhaps even growing eerie.       "Ellie, dear! Just a quick dip! Come now!" Elara kept whining, clenching her hands even tighter around Eilonwy's wrist each time she fought back.       "N-no! Elara, please! I'm not--!" the maiden shouted until suddenly a strong something grasped her waist and tugged her backwards.       "Let her go!" Elara shouted, eyes turning red. A shriek escaped from Eilonwy's lips as she struggled against both forces.       "Stop it! Unhand me!" she shouted.       "Ellie, wake up! Wake up, Eilonwy!" a third, indistinguishable voice then called. It transformed as it progressed: a demonic echo slowly became a panicked plea. "Eilonwy! Don't do this!"       "Let me go! Get off me!" she continued to shout. Elara's mouth opened wide, revealing a collection of sharp fangs, as a blood curdling scream broke free and plunged Eilonwy into complete darkness. Then, her grip had fully released. Eilonwy tumbled backward, gasping for breath and feeling around in the darkness for anything to cling to. The earth felt as if it was tipping and cracking beneath her feet and in that moment, she was sure the end of days had finally come. Her face was soaking wet, as was her nightgown and her hair. And in the midst of it all, she still felt a strong something around her waist. "Let me go...by Aslan, all that is holy, let me go..." she whispered desperately.       "Eilonwy! Eilonwy, it's me!" a voice called. The strong something lifted her to her feet and a hand brushed the wet matted hair away from her face. A flash of lightning illuminated the sky and the face of her captor.       "P-Peter!" Eilonwy screamed. There was terror in his eyes as he fought to hold her steady, her wet body constantly slipping out of reach.       "What do you think you're doing? You're about to get yourself killed!" he yelled. Obviously she had lost all common sense. Eilonwy wanted to fight back but upon opening her mouth, she produced no sound. She was suddenly very aware that it was not only rain soaking her face but tears and the moment she discovered this, they came pouring even harder than before. Without another word, Peter gripped her wrist tightly and guided her back down to the hallway, away from all the chaos. "You're soaking wet, you must be freezing" he muttered to himself, stealing the blanket from his bed and wrapping it around her shoulders. Mindlessly, she fell onto his bed like a rag doll and curled up in the comfort of his sheets. "What on earth were you doing? You could've been killed! You could've fallen overboard and drowned! Is that what you want? Is it your goal in life to give me a damn heart attack?" he shouted.       All Eilonwy could do was shiver and cry. It was perhaps the most vulnerable Peter had ever seen her and he quickly began to feel incredibly guilty for all he had said and done. He looked around the room frantically, trying to think of what to do, before hesitantly inching closer and sitting beside her on the bed. He noticed that when she cried, she didn't wail dramatically or even sob. She just laid there staring off into space, tears cascading down her cheeks with the occasional pathetic whimper. She was crumbling and Peter, suddenly acting on pure instinct, pulled her into his lap like a child and held her as close as possible. She immediately buried her face in the crook of his neck, her hot tears dampening his skin, and there she stayed until she fell asleep. And then, once unconscious, Peter scooted back with her toward the head of the bed and attempted to lay her down, but she refused to let go of him. Unable to release himself from her grip, he sighed and scooted downward to rest both their heads on the pillow, laying there with her through the rest of the night.       As the sunlight filtered through the window of Peter's chamber, Eilonwy groaned and blinked awake. Her eyes were bloodshot and crusted shut and every limb in her body ached. Sitting up, however, she made a terrifying realization: she was alone in Peter's bed. A gasp escaped her as she jumped out from under the sheets, a long list of worst case scenarios running through her head. She remembered their fight, and laying in her own bed, but not much else afterwards. Anything proceeding was a hazy memory she would soon forget.       "Peter...?" she called, poking her head out the doorway. The corridor was completely clear. The High King was nowhere to be found. "Can you imagine the scandal that would come of anyone finding out about this? Ha! Some sloppy huntress found in bed with the High fucking King of Narnia! Priceless" she muttered to herself as she tiptoed back to her chamber. Perhaps it was all just a big misunderstanding. Perhaps no one would ever know. By Aslan, she hoped no one would ever know. The clock in her room read 9:47am. Surely she was running late for breakfast but by now, she was so disoriented she scarcely cared. At least she was still alive.       Eilonwy peered into the dining room once dressed and freshened up, finding everyone just finishing their breakfasts. Alright, I'll just sneak in once they all leave and eat the leftovers. Like a dog scrounging for table scraps. Yeah, she thought to herself but before she could carry out her plan, a familiar voice called to her.       "Good morning, sleepyhead" Peter greeted. A pang of pain hit her chest. Wincing, she turned to enter the room and smiled painfully.       "Please don't say that" she whispered, refusing to meet Peter's eyes. Suspicion flashed across his face but he let it slide.       "How did you sleep last night?" Susan inquired as she stirred her tea.       "Oh, like a baby!" Eilonwy lied. "Something about the rhythmic rocking of boats is just so...lulling!"       "There's some leftover pancakes on the serving cart" Edmund said, cocking his head toward the platter. Eilonwy nodded and thanked him quietly, rising from her seat to serve herself. When she returned, a stack of pancakes ten layers high sat in front of her, resulting in some rather curious looks.       "I'm starved!" Eilonwy gushed, shoving a massive bite into her mouth with a cheesy grin.       Licking her lips, Susan nodded and then lifted her napkin from her lap. "Well then, I think I'll take a morning stroll along the deck. Ed, would you care to join me?" she said, giving her brother a knowing glance. Edmund quickly nodded, scarfed down what little food remained on his plate, and scurried out of the room alongside his sister. Panic rose in Eilonwy's throat watching them leave but she continued shoveling food into her mouth in hopes that Peter might leave soon, as well.       He watched her curiously before chuckling and finally breaking the silence. "If you take any bigger bites, you'll choke to death." Eilonwy paused a moment before swallowing her food and slowly lifted another bite to her lips. A beat of silence. "You have a thing for near-death experiences, don't you?" he then asked.       "Peter, what the hell are you talking about?" the maiden asked. If he meant Beruna, ample time had already passed to be pinning shame on her disobedience again. The High King rose from the other end of the table to float closer, running his hand innocently along the backs of chairs.       "Don't you remember last night?" he asked. Eilonwy spluttered and fumbled for her water glass.       "What about last night?" she croaked. She felt like she was going to be sick.       "I'm surprised you didn't wake up the entire boat with your screaming!" Peter exclaimed. Instantly, Eilonwy shot up from her seat and pointed her fork at him.       "Listen, whatever you did to me last night--" she started.       "Wait, Eilonwy, what are you talking about?" Peter asked. Genuine confusion crossed his face.       "W-w-what was it? Was it the transparency of my nightgown? My cleavage? Or was the heat of our fight far too unbearable and you just had to get in my pants? Hmm?" she accused.       "Whoa, whoa, Eilonwy! Calm down! Th-that's not it at all!" Peter begged.       "Well what was it then? Huh? What was it that just made you so damn aroused?!"       "You really don't remember...?" Peter asked softly, cautiously coming nearer.       "I'll stab you! I'll scream!" Eilonwy threatened.       "Eilonwy, I didn't take advantage of you!" Peter demanded. "If you didn't take advantage of me, then why did I wake up this morning in your bed? Huh? Explain that, your majesty!" she replied, a wildness and mocking tone filtering through her voice.       "You nearly went overboard!" he finally said. Eilonwy froze dead in her tracks. There was no way. He was lying. Cocking an eyebrow, she eyed him suspiciously and urged him to continue. "I woke up last night to hear you screaming from the deck. There was a terrible storm so I couldn't possibly imagine why you'd be out there, especially at such a late hour. When I went to check on you, you were nearly over the edge and soaking wet. It was like you were in some kind of trance, maybe in the middle of a nightmare or something. I tried to pull you back but you kept fighting me. Finally, I got a hold of you and led you back to my room to warm you up. You just flopped onto my bed and wouldn't leave so I let you stay there and that's all that happened, okay? I didn't take advantage of you! I would never take advantage of you" Peter explained.       As she listened to him tell his tale, suddenly everything grew clearer. Images of her family and the Narnian shores flashed through her brain, of Elara's piercing red eyes and deadly grip. "Oh my god..." Eilonwy murmured softly. Knees weakening, she fell into the nearest chair and dropped the fork to the ground.       "A-are you okay...? Eilonwy...?" Peter asked softly. He slowly dropped down into the chair beside her, rested a gentle hand atop hers but she quickly pulled hers away. "Listen, Eilonwy..." he then sighed. "I'm sorry about last night. About our argument. I guess...I guess I was just scared. Aslan knows I still am. I've had a lot on my plate but it wasn't right for me to lash out at you like that. I guess just between you and Ed and Lu and Su, I just...I'm so terrified of what we're going to find when we finally land on Galma. I don't want to put anyone at risk of contracting whatever disease is over there. I don't want to lose anyone. Including you."       Eilonwy slowly raised her eyes to look upon him, studying the contours of his face. "You really mean that?" she whispered. He nodded.       "You drive me crazy sometimes, but somehow you simultaneously keep me sane. You're the only one I feel I can really talk to. You understand. I never should've told you not to come back to Cair Paravel with us" he said. "After all, it was your home first anyways."       The maiden chuckled softly. "Well, just try not to lose that big head of yours" she murmured, patting his head awkwardly. He smiled back at her and once again, she swore she felt that same energy flickering between them that she had felt on that dance floor. An electric charge willing their lips closer together. His eyes glanced to her mouth as he slowly leaned in closer.       "I'll do my best" he whispered, now so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin. Her eyes began to slowly shut, terrified but unable to stop what was happening. Just as their lips nearly brushed against one another, however, a voice called from the hallway.         "Land ho! Galma ahead!"       Instantly, Peter snapped from his trance, leaning back with eyes wide. "Lucy!" he murmured. Without wasting another second, he leapt from his chair and barrelled down the hallway, leaving Eilonwy by her lonesome in the dining room. Her hand rose to graze her lips with soft fingertips, cursing under her breath, before shaking the thoughts from her head and chasing after him. She didn't have time to think of such silly, pointless things. People were dying. Lucy was in danger. There were far more important things demanding her attention. And as she reached the top deck, she was met with them head on.

#t: futgt #t: futgt c: three #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #fanfiction #narniaff

[temptation-narnia-chronicles]

From Upon the Golden Thrones

Episode 23: Return to Cair Paravel

Susan wasn’t sure whether it was the foggy morning air or the melancholy of leaving a new friend that made everything seem different. The crew of the Splendor Hyaline carted their luggage aboard the ship aching to return home. Duke Rochester and his children followed the Pevensies to the docks for a formal goodbye, though Rochester was less than pleased that his new allies were leaving so soon. He had grown so fond of the monarchs during their time there, so inspired by the prospect of their nations’ budding friendship.

Peter bid the duke a fond farewell, then turned to the others. Francis was a man of few words and even fewer affections, a character Peter still did not know well and still did not put much trust in. As he knew it, the man spent much of his time on the training grounds obliterating burlap dummies and bales of hay. A raw, violent creature one would be stupid to cross. He simply nodded to the monarchs with a trademark stony face. Ginevra, however, was a different story.

               Her dress was simple and sweet rather than gaudy, her makeup sparse, and her hair was braided neatly down her back and adorned with pink roses and baby’s breath. She and Peter exchanged a brief smile before she grasped his hands lightly in hers and bowed her head. “It was an honor and a pleasure, your majesty” she stated softly. Everything about her was far too soft. It was as if she had been replaced by someone completely different overnight. Susan eyed her older brother, wondering what on earth had become of this girl.  

               “The feeling is mutual” Peter replied, kissing her hand formally. “I hope we can keep in contact with one another.” This was where Susan, along with the others, grew really puzzled. The magnificent glanced to his sister, adding, “Considering you and Susan seemed to have grown so close.” It was true-- though she was at times insufferable, Susan had found a true friend in Ginevra. To think, she had finally found someone of her age, sophistication, and taste—not to mention marital status. They had already agreed to keep in correspondence over the next few months until they could see one another again. Truly, they had formed a steadfast bond one cannot so easily shake.

               Ginevra bowed her head, her cheeks tinting pink. “I would like that very much” she replied. She stared up at Peter with those steely blue eyes, exuding hope and promise and joy. Ingenuity. A small smile tugged at Susan’s lips. It looked good on her, that ingenuity. Even if she didn’t get what she set out for-- Peter’s heart-- Susan knew her new friend certainly received something far better: growth. She couldn’t have been happier seeing how such a change affected her, of how much more peaceful and pleasant she seemed. And what’s more, Ginevra was not the only one Susan saw a change in.

               As they boarded the ship and set sail, Peter smiled back at the little island. His experience there was nothing short of a nightmare but at the same time, he felt different now. He had made a new friend, helped someone become a better person, and created a fine ally in the process.

               “Peter?” a small voice then asked, shaking the High King from his thoughts. He turned to find Lucy looking up at him curiously. “What are you doing?”

               “Just taking in the view” he replied. “Why?”

               “Just wondering” she replied. Peter gazed at her suspiciously, then shifted his sight to Susan and Edmund in the background. Try as they might, they couldn’t turn away quickly enough for Peter to not notice they were eavesdropping. He glanced back at Lucy, then motioned for her to follow him.

               “Alright, what’s going on here?” he asked his siblings. They all shifted awkwardly, not wanting to look him in the eyes. They stood in an uncomfortable silence for a moment longer before Susan finally spoke.

               “We’ve just noticed some rather interesting changes lately, that’s all” she explained.

               “Oh really?” Peter asked. “Like what?”

               “Well, for one, you seem to be in a much better mood” Lucy answered. The others nodded in agreement.

               “And we couldn’t help but notice something different about someone else, too…” Nefyn, who had recently entered the scene, chimed in.

               “Wait, what? Who?” he asked dumbly, searching their faces for answers. They stared at him as if he had three heads, and then it clicked. “Do you mean Ginevra? What are you all getting at?”

               Lucy rolled her eyes and laughed in frustration. “Did something happen with you two? She was like a completely different person, Peter!” The way she said the word something both infuriated and terrified him. They had no right to assume anything had happened between them, and Lucy was certainly far too young to know what any something might be.

               “If you’re hinting at intimacy, then no!” he exclaimed. “Absolutely not!”

               “Then what did happen?” Edmund asked, his tone much calmer and less accusatory.

               “We just had a dignified conversation the other night and came to terms with one another like civilized people” Peter explained. “And maybe I realized that people aren’t always who they seem to be at first. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less.” And with that, Peter bid his siblings and friend goodbye and disappeared below deck. They watched him depart for a moment before Lucy slumped down against a barrel and buried her face in her hands.

               “I feel ill” she murmured.

               “Come on, Lucy” Susan replied, a tinge of exhaustion in her voice. “I know we all just want answers, but is it really so easy to argue when Peter’s in such a good mood? We should just be happy that he’s smiling for the first time in ages.”

               The valiant shook her head presently. “No, Su, I mean I really feel ill” she replied. She peered up at her sister through the gaps between her fingers and the gentle could tell the young queen suddenly looked far paler than she had before. She knelt down beside her sister to make sure she was alright but quick as lightning, the valiant bolted upright and vomited over the side of the ship.

               “I’ll go get some ginger lollies” Nefyn replied, galloping below deck. Susan watched in horror, holding her sister’s hair back. Lucy never got seasick.

               Once finished, the valiant slumped down on the deck and gasped for breath. Her hair was matted against her sweaty forehead, eyes sunken and skin pale. Susan pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, wiping the dampness away with her skirt. “Lucy, what’s gotten into you?” The valiant just shook her head and buried her face in her hands.

               “Maybe she’s been poisoned” Edmund commented, pacing back and forth in thought.

               “Ed, that’s ridiculous. Who could’ve poisoned her?” Susan asked.

               “The Brennans” he replied curtly.

               The gentle rolled her eyes. “There is no reason for Ginevra or her family to have poisoned Lucy. That’s ridiculous.”

               “Think about it, Su. Didn’t Lucy just mention something the other day about the salmon?” Edmund proposed. Susan paused in thought for a moment.

               “Oh, please don’t say salmon” Lucy whispered hoarsely, swallowing back another round. Her sister furrowed her brows and glanced to the just with great concern. She didn’t want to believe her new friends would do anything to hurt her baby sister, but she couldn’t avoid the facts. The door to the deck swung open and Nefyn came trotting forward with a bouquet of ginger lollipops and a pitcher of peppermint water.

               “Here you go, your majesty” Nefyn said, holding out the fistful of candy. Lucy plucked one from the centaurette’s hand and slid it into her mouth hesitantly, sliding it against the inside of her cheek. As she did so, Nefyn poured a chalice of peppermint water for her and placed the pitcher atop the nearby barrel. “Did I overhear something about salmon?” she then asked. Lucy groaned and squeezed her eyes shut tight.

               “Susan and I were just wondering about the likelihood of Lucy having been poisoned, considering the other day she said the salmon at lunch tasted funny” Edmund replied.

               Nefyn shook her head. “Can’t be.”

               “What do you mean ‘can’t be’?” Edmund asked. “All the math adds up, Nef.”

               The centaurette rolled her eyes. “You’re trying to add two numerals without finding the unknown variables first” she replied. “Yes, Lucy is sick and yes, she said the…fish…tasted funny. The most likely illness she could have would be shigella, which would appear within twenty four to forty eight hours, but that sickness is mostly spread by contaminated food handlers. If she had fallen ill from that, don’t you think you all would be feeling symptoms, as well?”

               Susan and Edmund sat in thought for a moment, paying close attention to every part of their body to check if they, too, were feeling anything unorthodox. Neither of them could say so. “Well, who’s to say the cook didn’t inject poison into her food specifically?” Edmund asked.

               “It’s hard to say without testing a sample of the meat itself” Nefyn replied. “But I truly don’t think that’s the case here. I’ve seen a wide assortment of oral poisons and their effects and none have so docile an effect as what the queen here is suffering from. Plus, those poisons are designed to act within mere hours after consumption. As far as I know, Lucy only just started feeling nauseous.”

               “Well, if it’s not food poisoning and nobody has contaminated her food, then what is it? And what are we supposed to do about it?” Susan asked. Her head was beginning to spin with all of these unanswered questions. She just wanted to know if her sister would be alright.

               “It’s hard to say. A lot of illnesses have nausea as a common symptom” Nefyn replied. “All I can say for sure is that she’ll need lots of rest and fluids. My father and I will make sure she’s taken care of.”

               Lucy peeked out from behind her hands and shook her head. “It’s really not worth your time, Nefyn. I’m fine! Really, I am!” she insisted. Nefyn, however, refused. She helped Lucy to her feet, suggesting the queen lean on her flank for her support, and escorted her to her chamber. The valiant looked back at her brother and sister sadly as she went, face still pale and eyes still sunken. She didn’t want to worry them, nor did she want to be sick. Susan clutched Edmund’s hand tightly, trying to swallow back her concern. While she didn’t particularly want to let Lucy out of her sight, she knew leaving her in Nefyn and Aesop’s care was the best possible thing for her. They knew what they were doing. She needed to trust that.

               Peter paced his chambers nervously, overthinking his siblings’ words. Did they really think he and Ginevra were romantically involved? And if they did, how could they? Yes, she had changed but that meant nothing for Peter’s relationship with her. They were friends, nothing more. He couldn’t even fathom it evolving into anything else, especially after all the difficulty she had caused him up until the very end of their trip. Besides, his heart still belonged to Eilonwy. She was out there somewhere and if she wasn’t going to come back to him, then he would just have to go out and get her, wherever she was. His determination quickly faltered, however, whenever he glanced out the window and saw just how vast the world really was. She could be anywhere. It could take a lifetime to find her. And wherever she was, she was never guaranteed to stay there, so he could very well find where she had been only to discover she was no longer there. The hopelessness of the situation made his head pound. And to think, none of this would have even been an issue had she just never left in the first place. God, how he missed her.

               The trot of hooves outside stirred Peter from his thoughts. He peered out the doorway to find Nefyn escorting a very pale and sickly Lucy to her chambers. “What’s going on here?” he asked, concern immediately coursing through his veins. Every other thought from moments before melted from his mind.

               “I’m fine, Peter. Really” Lucy insisted.

               Nefyn shook her head. “Lucy has fallen ill. I’m taking her back to be treated and examined by my father.”

               “Wait, ill? With what?” Peter asked.

               “Don’t know yet” Nefyn replied. “Definitely not food poisoning. Surely not any other kind of poisoning.”

               “What do you mean ‘other kind of poisoning’? What’s going on?” Peter asked, growing more and more frantic every second. Lucy placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him sternly.

               “Listen to me, Peter: I am fine. Nothing is wrong with me! I don’t want you to worry one bit” she insisted. And thus Nefyn tugged her along back to her chamber. Peter watched with dismay as they disappeared, his positivity quickly vanishing. He looked back out upon the sea and sucked in a deep breath. He desperately prayed that they would return home soon.

               The journey was long and uneventful, the days laced with worry about their dear Lucy. Peter, Susan, and Edmund checked on her as often as they could—or at least as often as Aesop would let them. And in the meantime, they prepared themselves for the tsunami of responsibility that lie ahead. They had been away from home for so long, surely a stack of paperwork a mile high would await them upon their return. Regardless of that rude awakening, however, the sight of Cair Paravel hazy on the horizon was a rushing welcome of relief and happiness. To finally be back home, in one’s own comfortable bed, among the same familiar and friendly faces.

               Tumnus and the Beavers were already there on the docks prepared to greet them with open arms and warm smiles. Lucy hugged her dear friend tightly, bombarding him with questions all on what they had missed, and kissed each of the Beavers on the head. She had finally started to feel a bit better a day or two prior, no longer vomiting or complaining of stomach cramps. As happy as they all were to see her up and about and well again, deep down her siblings still felt a twinge of paranoia as to what made her so sick in the first place. Surely there had to be some cause. Falling ill like that was so unlike her. Whenever they questioned her about it, however, she’d narrow her eyes at them and tell them to stop treating her like a child, that nothing was the matter with her and they should just be grateful she’s feeling better without all of this interrogation. The attitude was also quite unlike Lucy but in an effort to not face another barrage of frustration from her, they tried their best to keep their mouths shut on the subject.

“Did we miss anything important while we were gone?” Peter asked. Tumnus furrowed his brows and twiddled as his fingers as he recounted the past few weeks.

“Nothing too extraordinary, your highness. Just some routine paperwork and things” he replied. Then, as if a lightbulb had suddenly switched on in his head, he exclaimed “Oh! And there is one other thing. A few days ago, a message was delivered to you from Brenn. I’m not quite sure what it may be about, but I suggest you take a close look at it to be safe.” Peter’s heart leapt into his throat. He patted the faun on the shoulder and thanked him before stepping inside the castle and heading up to his office.

It felt weird returning home after such a long journey, and for more than just the obvious reasons. Before they had left, he was depressed and defeated. Everything reminded him of Eilonwy. His heart ached for the days when she was still there. Now, the pain was certainly still present, but something in him felt different. There was a numbness. Everything still reminded him of her, but he felt no adverse reaction deep inside of himself. No urge to cry passing her chamber or seeing her engagement ring still sitting upon his dresser. Instead, there was just…emptiness. He thought of the wooden figurine Lucy had given him for Christmas, the way it snapped in half when Ginevra tossed it across the room. A sour taste rose into the back of his mouth. He turned his attention to the letter on his desk sealed with pale wax stamped with Brenn’s crest. He opened it carefully, something immediately falling from the folded page. He leaned down to pick up the trinket as he skimmed the letter, finding Ginevra’s signature at the bottom. You seemed so awestruck by my ribbons when last you were here, that I felt it necessary to make you one of your own. Consider it a token of our friendship, and of my gratitude to you for all you have taught me in the short time which you spent with us. In his opposite hand was a tiny ribbon kite of folded baby blue ribbon, his name scrawled on the tail in gorgeous gold calligraphy. A smile touched his lips and suddenly, a strange sensation began overtaking his body. It was a sort of blossoming from the center of his chest, something full of hope and warmth and kindness. It was uncertainty and excitement, as if his entire body had been electrified from a deep sleep he was unaware he was in. Peter glanced to the letter once more, then gazed out his window at the landscape spread before him. This was the first time in a long time that he had ever felt anything remotely close to this, or what he suspected this was. Deep within him, something equally awesome and terrifying had begun to take root.

#t: futgt #t: futgt c: twenty three #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #fanfiction #narniaff