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The Chronicles Of Narnia - Blog Posts
“The director of the first film, Andrew Adamson, was very focused on preserving real emotion, on seeing things for the first time, and having, like, a real sense of wonder.“
“So he didn’t actually show me the set of Narnia where the lamppost is until we shot it. I was blindfolded and guided into my place, and he told me to just walk around, that the camera would follow me.”
“And so I turned around and I saw it for the first time. It was in a studio but it was ri-dic-ul-ous-ly real. I couldn’t get my head around it. And so what you see is my real reaction to everything. It was incredible.”
Source
As opposed to hundreds of years later... when you're younger.
How I look at my S/O after I shift
(I am going to take their ability to speak)
Don’t worry, he’ll catch you when you fall.
Meet Omondi
Full name: Omondi Chibudem Akpan
Nickname(s): Omo, Chibudem/Chibu*, Akpan* Odi
*Also used by Aslan
Age: 116
Powers: Pyrokinesis+ specialty, Aerokinesis+ specialty, Shapeshifting, Flight
Character Description: Omondi is the younger and more energetic of the Guardians, with mocha brown skin and jet black twists decorated with golden beads. Filled with a passionate fire (literally!) and a head that, in one way or another, is always in the clouds, he is the life of the party wherever he goes. But don't let his cheery demeanor fool you! He is always ready to fight at the drop of a hat for what is right.
Name Meaning:
Omondi: 'Born in the Early Morning'
Chibudem: 'The Emperor (God) Guides Me'
Akpan: 'First Son'
Magic Weapon: Golden Ring/ Halberd
*Please note that I cannot draw, so a lot of the artwork has been traced over stencils made available online*
Is the younger twin (and uses that status to get away with mischief)
Controls fire and air
Was the reason why Aslan was able to find Kamari and bring her back to life, hence the reason for his middle name (The Emperor Guides Me)
When their birth family was destroyed, Omo was slashed at in the chest by the same sword that took out his sister, but miraculously stayed alive and wandered the destroyed camp, crying for help until Aslan showed up and found him.
Seeing Aslan, he led Him straight to where his sister was, and the rest was history.
Connected to the daytime, the sun, and is absolutely a morning person.
Loves to hang out with all of the Flying Beasts of Narnia, though he does like to talk to the Talking Birds about some gossip from wherever they've flown recently
Is a pretty good glassblower, with an entire glasswork collection, including vases, figurines, kitchenware, and more. Also likes to make stained glass artwork and give them to friends and family as gifts.
Discovered his hobby by accident while playing on the beach with Aslan and Kamari before the 100-Year Winter due to a trip-and-fall, which ended up with him having sand in his mouth. He got so embarrassed that when he began to blush, the sand in his mouth melted into molten glass, which he then spat out, and it formed into a near-perfect Prince Rupert Drop (much to Kamari's disgust)
Had a collection of different colored sand in his room to melt down (with his hands, not his mouth) to create different pieces, but it does tend to get everywhere if he's not careful (and he's not)
Likes all colors, but if he had to pick one, it would have to be a tawny-gold, since it reminds him of Aslan.
Is extremely extroverted, always ready to make a new friend
Omondi's Spotify Playlist
Let me know if you want more! I got more artwork to show and new chapters to write!
Meet Kamari
Full name: Kamari Nyathera Ada
Nickname(s): Kami, Kam, Ada*, Nyathera/Nya/Thea*
*Also used by Aslan
Age: 116
Powers: Hydrokenisis+ speciality, Geokenisis+ speciality, Shape shifting, Clairvoyance/ Precognition
Character Description: Kamari is the elder of the Guardians, with dark brown skin and black hair that alternates between thick, long twists and loose afro. Being connected to water and earth, she is more comfortable being on the ground, where she can feel her powers the strongest. Rather reserved and serious, she is also gentle and is always ready to defend those she loves.
Name Meaning:
Kamari: 'Moon'
Nyathera: 'Survivor'
Ada: 'First Daughter'
Magic Weapon: Silver Bangles/ Sickles
*Please note that I cannot draw, so a lot of the artwork has been traced over stencils made available online*
Is the older twin (by three minutes)
Controls water and earth
Was found and adopted by Aslan when she and Omo were three years old after their parents and their original people were slaughtered by the White Witch.
Kami is the only twin that has actually experienced death, after being killed during the White Witch's annihilation attempt.
Is brought back to life by Aslan, hence her middle name ('Survivor')
Connected to nighttime, moon, stars, and is a bit of a night owl.
Likes to hang out with nyads and dryads.
Because of her connection to night, Aslan would teach her the songs of the stars.
Has a talent for weaving, sewing, and anything relating to fabrics of any kind. Likes to make tapestries depicting Narnian stories and history.
Has a loom for her big tapestries as well as a spinning wheel, knitting needles, crochet hooks, sewing and embroidery needles, and thousands of threads and yarns of different fabrics and textures in her possession.
Doesn't like to wear shoes, finds them too constricting and tries to avoid them unless absolutely necessary.
Despite always wearing blue and green, her favorite color is actually a rather dark royal purple. To mark a tapestry or other needlework as hers, she will use that color yarn/thread to stitch her initials into the art piece.
Is more spiritual, receiving visions and dreams about the future.
Is a bit introverted, not really a big people person
Kamari's Spotify Playlist:
Let me know if you want to learn more about Kamari and keep on the lookout for Omondi's coming soon! 😊
The Guardians of Narnia Update!
Hey Guys! I decided to move my Guardians of Narnia over to Wattpad, and Chapter 2 was just updated! 😁
Please give it a looks and remember to Vote, Comment, and Share!
Also be on the lookout for FAQ's and artwork about our new Guardians!👀
Can't wait to see you guys in the next chapter! ❤️
THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA - MASTERLIST
Accompanying WHAT / WHO I WRITE FOR
Dividers by @/thecutestgrotto
Nothing here, yet!
THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA - WHAT / WHO I WRITE FOR
Accompanying MASTERLIST
Dividers by @/thecutestgrotto
Edmund Pevensie
Lucy Pevensie
Peter Pevensie
Susan Pevensie
Tumnus
Fᵣₒₘ ₜₕₑ ₛₜₐᵣₛ
Royal Bloodline of the Star Fairies
Cast
Antares Novas the Benevolent King of the Star Faries
Astra Novas the Fierce Queen of the Star Fairies
Caelum Novas the Brave Prince of the Star Fairies
Divider creador goes to @diviniyae
A/n: I want to preface this by saying you do not have to look like this cast at all. The royal bloodline of Star fairies literally come from the stars. You star fairy! Reader came from a star and can look however you’d like. Antares came from the stars and when he married Astra she became a part of the royal bloodline. There first child is Caelum and he was given to them by the stars. Then you came FROM THE STARS. You can ignore that they all have silver hair. That will be explained in the storyline.
Fᵣₒₘ ₜₕₑ ₛₜₐᵣₛ
Act I ~ Prince Caspian
Cast
Princess Y/n Novas the Resilient of the Star fairies
“The only reason your head is not on one of those spikes, is because they are reserved for the murders of my family.”
“I am what you made me!”
Prince Caspian of Telmar
“Dance with me. Dance with me and pretend that nothing else in the world matters.”
“Love has always been a death sentence hasn’t it?”
High King Peter the Magnificent of Narnia
“Are you still a King if your people are in ruins? If they follow a new ruler?”
“Stand tall general, you’ve still got a battle to finish.”
High Queen Susan the Gentle of Narnia
“I suppose it’s hard to forget your past when it’s written all over your body.”
“I will miss you dearly, I didn’t have a friend like you last time.”
King Edmund the Just of Narnia
“We are quite alike, except I had family to save me. You didn’t.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
Queen Lucy the Valiant of Narnia
“You’re a lot like her, same ferocity.”
“I’m just a beautiful as you now.”
Divider credit goes to @diviniyae
A/n: Every act will have ten chapters that will cover each movie. I will be doing Prince Caspian, the dawn treader and the last act will be of my own storyline. I know a lot of people don’t like the dawn reader movie but I love it. Also the chapters will be a bit longer then the others.
The royal family of the Star fairies cast
Trigger warnings: Blood, Murder, war crimes?, mentioned of s/a, torture, self loathing, survivors guilt, angst, ptsd, trauma, depression, smut, death, suicidal thoughts
Taglist @avatarobsessedgirly , @twinkletwinklenotastar
Fᵣₒₘ ₜₕₑ ₛₜₐᵣₛ
Just a small sneak peek at a future Narnia fic idea.
Star fairies, the most ancient race in Narnia. Guardians of the stars and magic. Creature Aslan himself held in the highest of places are gone. Killed in a murderous rampage of the Tyrant of Telmar, Miarz desecrated all the once holy creatures. Almost all, the lone survivior being their Princess Y/n. Her hatred for all humans only grows and festers as she ages. How will this hatred be tested when she is forced to save and protect the nephew, the very prince of the people who murdered hers. Will sure learn not all humans are the same or will hatred only grow.
Prince Caspian. He was no Prince but a prisoner in his own country as his uncle held his kingdom. His only comfort the stories his father would tell of a magical race of fairies that protected the stars and the very magic that Narnia ran on. When he is forced from his home he meet the very creature from these stories. Her beauty and powerful aura was enough to make Caspian fall in love, except she hates him more than anything. Can he turn her hatred to love, or will she forever hate all humans.
random oc x prince caspian that i decided to write😭 only a couple hundred words, but it's good, i promise
ONCE UPON A DREAM
Sophia was dreaming of Narnia. It was a nightly occurrence, having been so ever since she and the Pevensies tumbled out of the wardrobe after their 15-year rule. Tonight's dream, however, felt different somehow. It wasn't a feeling that could be accurately described with words, but Sophia felt it writhing in her bones.
Her footsteps were all that could be heard in the forest that surrounded her. Until all of a sudden, a second set of footsteps joined hers. She whipped around, spotting a boy next to her. He was her age, with dark brown hair and deep chocolate eyes.
His eyes narrowed at her. "Who are you? And what are you doing in my dream?"
She made a face at him. "I'm Sophia, and it's my dream. Who are you?"
"I'm Caspian, and I'm pretty sure I'm the one who's sleeping right now."
"Well so am I!"
They never figured out whose dream it was. Eventually, they forgot about the dream part altogether and simply explored the woods around them. After what felt like hours Sophia woke up, her head spinning, and her heart pounding.
She neglected to tell the Pevensies about her dream. If there was a reason, she couldn't find it. All the blonde girl knew, was that if this was how her nights were to be spent, she never wanted to wake up.
Okay what the fuck is happening?
Susan did not see Peter in battle for years—arriving to his stand against Jadis almost too late, catching up while he picked himself up from the torn earth, on the other side of the conflict when the remnants of Jadis’ army tried their luck at the Cair. Sure, she knew he fought and killed, just as she did, just as Edmund and Lucy did—and oh, how Susan loathes that last part, but Lucy had been the one to find the first assassin in their halls and there was nothing to be done about it now. There was entirely too much death in their first year, Susan thinks, the fairytale shine of Narnia soon breaking apart and leaving a country and people in desperate need of rest and time behind. It took her days to get the blood out underneath her and Lucy’s fingernails, and she knew Peter had just as bad a time with Edmund next door. With a lump in her throat, Susan wondered often if this was to be the rest of their lives: washing themselves clean of battles that were forced upon them by a world far too big for their hands to hold. But even then, with the bloodied waters between them all, she never truly saw Peter in battle. A slain Maugrim who had about as much a part in his own death as Peter’s shaking sword did, a witch that Susan never saw die, assassins that ended up on the moth-eaten carpets she had found in old storage rooms; things that should give her pause but she simply couldn’t consider for long with all there was to do. They had killed to end up where they were, and Susan knew deep down that they would have to kill to stay, too. Now, standing with her bow held tight and a quiver empty of arrows, a sword at her side she has yet to finish learning how to swing, Susan finds herself in a pocket of tar-slow time. Here, she stands with a muddied hemline and their castle once more under siege—unknown foes, but foes all the same—and there, across the way, with his hair longer than Susan has ever known him to have, Peter lets out a roaring laugh. Rhindon is far out of sight, a glaive taking its place in Peter’s steady hands. Even from afar, Susan feels it in her bones when Peter’s swing launches an enemy’s torn body across the field. There are bodies, horror-frozen faces, the stench of blood and bile. The steps to the Cair will perhaps forever bear the stain of this assault. They have lost people they held dear. Susan has wept enough to fill an ocean. And Peter laughs. With storm-eyes, bloodied tongue, and bared teeth, her older brother wages joyous war.
High King Peter the Magnificent; War; Sword of Aslan; the Boy-King; the Once-And-Future-King
before, in the shadows of a life that has long ceased to be your own, war was suits and uniforms, severe men and overworked mothers. war was looming large, approaching fast. war was terror lurking in the skies, a constant fear of the open air. war was everywhere; your brother and sister forever slighted by all things turned into luxury inside your home. and sure, you only remember the before once it turns into the after, but war—no matter the where of it all, you remember war.
war: standing tall, standing straight, standing with the weight of worlds borne on youthful shoulders; war: a shadow, a streak of vivid red and vicious gold; war: a man-turned-boy-turned-man.
war: steady arms that cling with welcome desperation, a rallying cry that makes your heart burn bright; war: a stumbling boy bearing skies that turn red before they ever find their blue. war: familiar like no other, from cradle to your shaking adult hands.
before-turned-after, you hear your mother—unsweetened tea, old perfumes, and factory oils scrubbed out with rationed soap—whisper to her friends about war. you sit on wooden steps—not stone, never stone in the after—and dig your nails into your shins. war, forever burning bright, sits at your back with the skies and the sword's edge. you lean to feel the shift in his breath, to remember that with everything lost, war remains.
she let the war in, your mother says in words tinted with war-weak drink. she lets war sleep on the same floor as her children, she confesses, like a wolf amongst sheep. you dig your nails deeper. war, his forehead against your back, sighs.
you know war best, cradle to the here and now. he wipes your tears with too-soft hands until you miss the swords and bows like the air inside your lungs. he brushes your sister's hair, listens to your brother with intent. war holds it together in the cracked marble that you've all become. war, warm and familiar, holds on tight.
when you start to wear your mother's old dresses, outgrowing your own, when you start to paint your lips a new shade of red, war's reflection almost cracks the fragile glass of your composure. he watches, looming, bearing the crimson skies like a gift rather than the curse it grew to be. his eyes—blue still, too blue for england clouds and england air—carry even more, a looking glass for worlds long closed to you and him. the curve of his smile makes you ache for string and wood, makes your fingers crave the weight of pulling it all taut. his shoulders are broad, his hands calloused again.
over your shoulder, your mirror shows a sword stained beyond repair. you ache with the wish for the battlefield. you fear it as you always did, even when you called it home. war, a rag in hand and shoulders straight, hums in tune with the memory of arrows loosened from your gentle hands.
you leave before the blood can reach your polished shoes.
——susan pevensie learns of ares, of atlas, of war on a horse. she weeps for the brother she finds in them.
THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA
caspian
nothing here yet…
peter pevensie
nothing here yet…
edmund pevensie
nothing here yet…
I have a lot of feelings about this film. Most of them are bad, because I loved the book and feel the film did a terrible job of understanding the point of it. Also where was Caspian’s glorious accent??
You wished yourself away, and with that, much more. Your brothers and sister wouldn’t know Narnia without you, Lucy. You discovered it first, remember?
THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA : THE VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER (2010), dir. Michael Apted
Also
Jon Snow, Gendry, Erik Killmonger, Kirito and Lance
There was already: Hakuryuu Ren, Arutha conDoin, Zuko, Lancelot and Mordred from the Mists of Avalon, Keith Kogane and Edmund and Caspian from The Chronicles of Narnia
feel free to tag more dark haired troumatized dudes I'll apreciate it very much thanks
My type? Dark haired edgy guys with swords.
My type? Dark haired edgy guys with swords.
"My dear Lucy, I wrote this story for you, but when I began it I had not realized that girls grow quicker than books. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. You can then take it down from some upper shelf, dust it, and tell me what you think of it. I shall probably be too deaf to hear, and too old to understand a word you say, but I shall still be your affectionate Godfather, C.S. Lewis." ― C.S. Lewis (The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe)
homeless | poetry by @pencap
homeless | poetry by @pencap
So cool my favorite author read my other favorite author.
forget Susan and Lucy (don’t) but please don’t tell me Lewis didn’t like female characters when Polly “don’t touch the obviously cursed bell, you absolute walnut” Plummer, Jill “my litigious bestie and I are here to fight the Antichrist” Pole and Aravis “‘I did not do any of these things for the sake of pleasing you’” Tarkheena exist
So i couldn't remember if the 2nd and 3rd Narnia movies were real or not so I rewatched them. So now i have adorable modern au headcannons:
• Lucy steals her brother's sweatshirts constantly. She wears almost exclusively leggings and her brother's hoodies. They would be mad at her for it, but they're not b/c it's Lucy.
• at one point Edmund hides all his and Peter's sweatshirts as a prank. He hides them in Susan's room so that Peter has to awkwardly try and get his sweatshirt out of Susan's room without her knowing
• Eventually she steals Caspian's hoodies sometimes too, but that's usually Edmund's job
• Edmund is addicted to iced coffee and Lucy always tags along and gets him to buy her Starbucks.
• Lucy has a following on tik tok. One of her tik tok series is Starbucks with Edmund.
• During VoDT when Lucy wakes up Edmund that scene is followed by them watching vines together until 3am
• Peter is insta famous. Why? How? Nobody knows he just is
• Lucy adds Caspian and Eustace to the family group chat. It's chaotic
Dirt on My Face Chapter 2: Unbelievable
Chapter 1
I was woken by the cold shock of snow being tossed in my face. I spluttered and sat up in the crook of Malic’s branches. “Malic!” I whined “what was that for?”
The tree laughed with a shake, his branches clattering with each other. One branch swooped down toward me. I ran a hand along it and on it’s end formed a beautiful red apple. I plucked it delicately.
“Well I guess breakfast makes up for it” I muttered. I bit into the apple and savored the sweet taste.
Few trees in the orchard produced apples to share anymore. The only reason they had before was because of the dryads of the village enriching them with their magic. Now after years of that magic’s absence many of the trees had returned to their quiet fretting.
Once I was done eating I climbed down Malic’s branches, my feet splashing up some snow with my landing. “Alright I’m off to the beavers then” I told him. “I’ll be back later” I lifted a hand to his trunk and felt his warmth run off on me. With a smile I hurried off into the woods.
The natural order of the woods was to move fast and keep hidden. This was especially certain for dryads. The Witch hated our natural magic that could make things grow. Beaver supposed that was why she destroyed the village when I was younger. I wasn’t as sure.
My father had been well known in The Wood. He spoke out against the witch and wasn’t afraid to fight for what was right. The Beaver’s don’t really talk about it but I knew that any resistance that might have formed when I was younger had been squashed upon his and my mother’s deaths. Despite this I still held hope that things would get better.
I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard the familiar bark and trample approach of the secret police. You couldn’t be seen by the secret police. My heart rate picked up and a jolt of fear shot through my veins.
I scrambled over to a nearby tree nearly face planting in the dirt. After placing a dirty hand to his trunk I was granted a hiding place up in his branches. I prayed the wolves would pass by below without an issue.
Unfortunately my luck is horrible. Two patrols met and stopped to compare notes right below me. I took this as a spying opportunity though, and tried to hear them below. Making sure to keep out of any kind of line of sight were they to look up. I shifted on the branch and accidentally banged my forehead into a higher limb. I held on and made sure not to fall or make too much noise. Holding a hand to my head I forgot they were covered in mud. Further attempts to clean my now dirty face failed.
"What did you find?" said a gruff voice I knew as Maugrim head of the secret police. If he was here then whatever was going on had to be serious. I abandoned trying to wipe my face clean and listened intently.
"Not much sir the trees aligned with us don't have much recollection of an event such as that." Spoke one of the wolves from the other patrol.
“Of course, not many here support her majesty." Said his companion
"This isn't good her majesty will not be pleased" stated the wolf with Maugrim
"Do any of you really believe that these rumors are true?" the first wolf spoke.
"Quiet don't speak like that" the second scolded.
"This is the fifth time we've gotten such an accusation in the last couple days." he argued.
"Silence" Maugrim snapped. "Do not question the Queens orders or I'll gut you myself on her command"
"Yes sir" the wolf out of turn whimpered.
"Now back to work" the wolves headed off at Maugrim’s command.
I listened for their sounds to fade before climbing down. “Thank you” I whispered to the tree before heading on off to the Beaver’s.
“Beaver! Beaver!” I called crouching down to knock on the door. “You’re never going to believe this.”
The door opened and Mrs. Beaver gave me a questioning look. “Arbor? What in heaven’s name are you screaming about and look at your face it’s covered in dirt”
I scrambled into the house. Breathing heavily. “Maugrim was in the woods” I explained “he said they got a report of something.”
“Maugrim?” Beaver inquired, hobbling out of a back room “where in The Wood?”
“Will you both keep your voices down” Mrs. Beaver scolded lightly. “The last thing we want is someone over hearing you”
“Out near Tumnus’s and the lamppost. They said they were getting reports about something in the woods and something about rumors” I told them taking a seat at the table.
Beaver sat across from me and leaned in speaking in a low voice “rumors? Tumnus’s? You know Badger told me something the other day-“
“Oh now don’t go sharing it with her” Mrs. Beaver interrupted quickly. “It could be dangerous. She’s only a child”
“Hey I’m not that young” I objected “I can take care of myself”
Mrs. Beaver huffed “you are indeed a child and you have no business getting mixed up in all this”
“What even is this?” I exclaimed.
“Aslan is-“
“Beaver!” The woman of the house silenced her husband.
“She deserves to know! Just think of her parents” Beaver told the Mrs.
“Her parents?” Mrs. Beaver sighed and lowered her voice “and just look what happened to them”
“They fought against the White Witch” I spoke up “and I want to as well”
“Now you listen here child” Mrs. Beaver gave me a motherly stare. “I don’t want you getting wrapped up in any of this. You understand me?” She walked over to the counter and collected some berries and biscuits into a little box she closed and shuffled back over to me “now you take these and go home to Malic. Go. Go on” she showed me to the door.
“I’ll be back tomorrow with your box” I told her grumpily. “And more information”
“You better now off with you” She pestered me along. “And don’t be causing anymore trouble”
“Bye” I waved one last time before turning and dashing off into the snow.
“Be careful!” I heard Mrs. Beaver's final call.
The Beavers have been taking care of me ever since my parents died. Them and Malic. They were my family here in the woods.
I ran through The Wood weaving among the trees. The box Mrs. Beaver had given me clattered in my jacket pocket. It was fun to just run free.
Then I heard the sleigh bells. I stopped in my tracks. Frozen, I listened. There was the sound of trampling feet and I ducked behind a rock not long after the Witch’s sleigh came rocketing past. I stayed very still watching it go before getting to my feet.
As she disappeared from view I felt a breath leave my lungs I hadn’t realized had been stuck. My luck really stunk today. First the wolves then the Witch’s carriage herself. I took another deep breath and turned to continue on my way when I froze. Standing not too far off was a boy.
He was dressed in blue with dark hair and eyes. A light dusting of freckles on his face and slippers on his feet he was roughly the same age as me. He looked completely out of place here in the woods. “Wh-who are you?” he asked, a rustling went through the trees and I realized very quickly that they didn’t know him. He wasn’t a dryad like me. He was a human. “Who are you?” he repeated again.
I opened my mouth to respond a little shocked just looking in his eyes. “Edmund!” There was an exclamation and the boy turned toward the voice. Without thinking I quickly ducked behind a large oak and was gifted up into his branches. Crouching there hidden.
A girl had appeared from the woods and greeted the boy. She was dressed in pink with short brown hair and more freckles. They talked for a moment. They were talking too softly for me to hear with the exception of a whining the boy made rather loudly when he shoved the girl away from him.
She turned and began to lead the way back to wherever they were from. I watched them go and saw the boy look back to where I had been with a perplexed expression. It felt weird knowing he was thinking of me.
Once they had vanished from sight I slid down the tree and felt my heart start pounding in my chest. Two humans were in the woods. Two more and we would have the entire prophecy. Spring was going to come. Narnia was going to be free. I let off an excited giggle and turned, making to head back to the Beavers with my news.
I began to run but was stopped when something leapt into my path. I slid on the snow and fell. Looking ahead I saw a wolf stalking around blocking my path. “Well, well, well, look what we have here” I turned to see Maugrim stalking forward behind me. “The rumors might not have worked out how we thought, but we still got something for our trouble. A lone little dryad”
I scrambled onto my feet looking between the two wolves and the woods. “Try it” the second wolf snapped menacingly.
I glanced between the wolves one more time before steeling myself and dashing forward. They were right behind me howling and barking and chasing. This was just a game to them. One grabbed my heel and I fell forward into the snow. Fighting against them a clawed paw tore at my arm ripping the fabric of my jacket and stinging my arm with pain. “Stop struggling we’re not going to kill you.” Maugrim growled as I gripped my arm tightly “her majesty would like to meet the last of the dryads”
I felt my heart beating in my chest. This was not good.
Life Series Book 1 Chapter 1: Broken Peace
“Arbor Eliffe! You get back here young lady!” I ran at top speed as Mrs. Greenwood yelled after me brandishing her woven basket over her head.
I laughed like a maniac as I happily got away with the pockets of my jacket stuffed with cookies. However I hadn’t quite reached the woods when a hand reached out and pulled me back by the collar of my coat.
I turned and smiled sheepishly at my father. He didn’t say anything as Mrs. Greenwood caught up to us. “Burian she’s done it again” the woman huffed her breath making little clouds in the cold air with each exhale. “Stole the whole tray the little troublemaker” she prodded me in the stomach with her basket which made me squirm from where my small frame was still being held up by my father gripping my collar.
“I’m sorry Lavender, I'll have Camella bake you a fresh batch if you would like” my father offered.
I looked up at the adults talking over my head. “Hey I still have ‘em here in my pocket” I explained. Reaching in I pulled out a handful of crushed cookies.
My father sighed and Mrs. Greenwood let off a noise that sounded an awful lot like a growl. “I’ll be waiting for your wife’s delivery,” the woman declared turning on her stubby legs and hobbling back to her little cottage. I stuck my tongue out at her back.
“Arbor” my father spoke scoldingly.
“What?!” I exclaimed “she’s a mean old woman!”
My dad let off a breath “that’s not-” he was cut off by a tearing noise and in the next moment my butt was in the snow. I looked up to see the torn collar of my coat in my father’s hand. “Let’s go home,” he declared defeatedly. “We’ll talk there”
I followed my father through our small village. Cradled in a little glen it was a peaceful, wintery world all to our own. It was mostly filled with Dryads like my family and Mrs. Greenwood but we had the occasional animal friend who came to say. The Beavers who lived in the nearby dam came over every once and awhile to buy some things and a family of deer had a hollow down the road.
It was a calm place most of the time. However there were times when we would hear the bells of the queen’s carriage or the pounding feet of the security police pack and would have to go inside. Those times me and mother would wait in the back room until father came and got us. To tell us things were safe.
When me and father got home the first thing he did was take my coat and dump the pockets into the trash bin. Which I felt was a great waste. Then we headed into the kitchen where my mother was cooking. “Darling is that you?” she called over her shoulder.
“It’s both of us” my father replied “someone got in trouble with Lavender Greenwood again”
“Hey she’s the one that hordes all those goodies she bakes” I argued “and I’m not the only one who steals them”
“Yes you’re just the one who gets caught the most” my mother chuckled turning around. She came over to the pair of us “i’ll make Lavender a new batch of cookies” she looked down at me squinting her eyes “oh look you’ve got dirt on your face” she murmured raising her apron to wipe my cheeks.
“Mom” I whined. “It’s just a little dirt from Mrs. Greenwood’s garden.” she continued to scrub at my face “why are you making her cookies anyway? She’s the mean one who’s always glaring”
My mother sighed, apparently giving up on getting my face clean. “How about I double the recipe then and we can keep the extra batch?”
“I quite like that plan” I smiled as she stood.
“Oh so you’re rewarding our little thief here now are you?” my father inquired of my mother with a smirk.
“Well Mrs. Greenwood is quite the grouchy old woman” mother pointed out. I gave my father a proud smirk having said something very similar earlier.
“What am I to do with you two?” the man of the house sighed.
“Love us” I cheered.
“I quite like that answer” mother laughed lightly. Then she noticed my father holding my coat. “Oh what happened to your coat?” she inquired coming over.
“Dad ripped it” I pointed up at the man quickly.
“Nice” he grumbled down at me.
I shrugged “it’s the truth”
“Alright well we’ll get this fixed up then” the woman declared taking up the torn fabric. She sat it off to the side and returned to making dinner.
“Come here kid” my father picked me up and sat me on the table. “We have to talk about all this stealing you’ve been doing. Mrs. Greenwood’s cookies, yarn from Mr. Orchard.”
“It’s not stealing” I objected “it’s borrowing”
“Do you return it?” my father inquired. I didn’t answer because I knew he was right “exactly now you can’t do that alright. Your five years old Arbor you have to understand. People work hard to make or earn the things you just take.”
“But I work hard to take them,” I explained. “I had to wait for an hour outside Mrs. Greenwood’s window for her to place the cookies out and then even longer for them to cool off.”
I heard my mother chuckle and my father sighed “listen Arbor things have value beyond just the work you put into them. Things like the value of promises and hope and love” my father sighed and sat down. “Here I’ll tell you a story. There once was a great king of Narnia. A king by the name of Aslan back in a time when our people would dance and bloom. Green grassy hills and fields filled with colorful flowers, petals drifting on the wind. Great celebrations with singing and dancing with the fauns and centaurs and all the other creatures of the wood.”
“That sounds incredible,” I explained. “You would dance outside in the snow?”
“There was no snow then” the man objected “Before this eternal winter there was once the four seasons. There was spring where things would grow and bloom and we’d have rainy days to splash in puddles. Summer where it would get so hot in the day we would all relax in the shade and play music, we’d have bonfires and tell stories. Autumn when all the trees would turn beautiful colors and we would harvest the fields preparing great feasts and parties. Then when winter would come it would be a short time where we’d go sledding, build snowmen, snuggle inside with warm drinks, and give gifts to one another”
“Wow” I exclaimed in awe imagining such a world “what happened?”
My father’s joyous smile faltered “it was stolen away from us by the White Witch.” my father explained he glanced over at my mother who had been watching us as she cooked. Her face heavy, and rigid in concern and sadness. “She came and she stole and she destroyed, Arbor. She took our joy and our happiness she took all the magic from our beautiful world and filled it with winter and sadness and fear”
“That’s awful” I murmured looking out the window at the white snow falling outside.
“She stole Arbor and she destroyed this entire land do you understand now why you must never steal what belongs to another?” he asked.
I nodded quickly “but there has to be some way to end this winter? I want to see spring, summer, autumn”
My father smiled warmly. Then looked around as if he expected us to be overheard before scooting closer. “There is a prophecy left to us by Aslan.” he cleared his throat dramatically before continuing “it goes: When Adam’s flesh and Adam’s bone sits in Car Paraval in throne the evil time will be over and done.”
“Wow” I breathed, keeping my voice low in a mirror of his “what does it mean?”
“It means that one day two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve. In other words two human boys and two human girls will come into this land and vanquish the White Witch restoring all we once had to Narnia”
I let off an excited giggle “they’ll bring spring back?” I questioned loudly.
“Shh shh” my father hushed lightly “yes they will.” he sighed and reached a hand out to touch my cheek “oh and my dear Arbor I hope you get to see it”
There was a moment of silence in the house before mother sighed “alright you two enough story time” she decreed. “Burian I need you to go pick me some more apples for the crumble”
“I can do it mom” I exclaimed jumping from the table. “I want to go see Malic”
“Oh alright but your coat is torn” my mother observed.
“Here she can borrow mine, it's not that far to Malic’s orchard,” my father offered. He picked his jacket from the back of his chair and wrapped it around me. It smelled like him, warm and comforting. Like pine needles and old wood. The jacket was far too large for me made of brown leather, however it didn’t drag on the ground and I could move in it. “There that should suffice for your small journey”
“Here” Mother handed me a basket. “Alright now it’s getting late so off to Malic’s and then straight back here for dinner”
“Yes ma’am” I nodded in agreement as I shuffled to the door. “I love you!”
“Love you too darling” father replied.
“Love you” my mother also voiced kissing my forehead and then ushering me out the door.
I ran down the snowy lane. Weaving past ice patches and giving an extra big smile to the glowering Mrs. Greenwood as I passed by her Cottage. Entering the woods I navigated among the trees with practiced ease. I reached my destination with a happy squeal.
“Malic!” I greeted the aged apple tree. He rustled his branches in greeting. I reached up and placed a hand to his trunk leaning in. I felt the life rushing below and within his bark. I felt a weight hit my arm and looked to see an apple had fallen into my basket. “Oh thank you mother sent me to collect some for a crumble she’s making.” I explained.
Malic reached down with his branched and I climbed up among them. I loved going high up into the air and looking out at the woods. Sitting in his branches I began to pick offered apples and tell him the grand story my father had told to me. Malic allowed me to jabber at him for a long time before I finally realized the sun was setting behind me and it was getting dark.
“Oh I have to go, my mother said to be back quickly” I told the tree. “I’ll be back tomorrow though” I promised. Malic let me down from his branches and I began to run back toward the village waving goodbye to my friend.
I weaved among the growing shadows of the trees, my feet crunching in the snow. I was nearly out of the woods when I was brought to a stop as a scream split the air. Fear suddenly shot through my veins as my breathing picked up. I started forward again slowly as firelight came into view. I entered the glen and dropped my basket with a gasp at the sight. People were running around madly two of the houses of the village burned and another began to catch.
Statues that looked a lot like people I knew stood along the street in frozen images of terror. Shielding themselves from whatever was about to attack them. Standing there in the middle of it, just as frozen as the statues around her, crystal white with a gleaming scepter in her hand admiring the chaos with a look that could only be described as a chilling evil. The White Witch.
I stood there staring as screaming was all around me just looking at her. Then someone grabbed my arm. I turned to see the panicked eyes of Mrs. Greenwood. “Arbor, come this way quickly!” she whispered urgently and dragged me off toward her house. We came inside and she pulled me over to a place on the floor. Lifting a hatch she rushed me down into the little crawl space below. “Stay here” she whispered hurriedly looking over her shoulder.
“Where’s my mom and dad?” I asked desperately.
“Shhh” she hushed me quickly. “Just stay quiet and stay hidden. Arbor please stay here until everything is quiet please promise me”
“I promise” I agreed, too terrified to do much else. She closed the hatch and I heard what sounded like her slapping the carpet back over it. The small space suddenly became very dark. I curled up into myself and listened.
There were screams and crashing and yelling and the roar of fire and things falling more screaming. I covered my ears and rolled on my side burying my head into my father’s jacket. Praying for peace.
It was a long time before there was finally peace. I remained hidden in the darkness long after there was silence listening in fear. However, eventually I rose from my place on the floor and pushed on the hatch with my shaking hands. Slowly it creaked open. Climbing out I looked around. The house above was trashed, the table overturned and the door crashed in. Gentle morning light was pouring in from every crack in the walls and through the shattered glass in the window.
Slowly I walked forward. Every step sounded far too loud in the chilling quiet. I exited the house and looked around in despair. Half the village was burned to the ground. The street was empty. I walked on down the road heading for home. Praying that it was safe hoping my parents were there waiting for me. Hoping they would be there to tell me everything was alright. The more I thought of them the faster I went until I was running around the corner to my house.
I stopped dead in my tracks. It was gone. The entire home was ruble. Burnt to a chard crisp. I felt tears threatening my eyes as I looked around and didn’t see anyone. “Mom? Dad?” I called into the silence. There was no response “Mom?! Dad?!” I called louder. Still nothing I called again and my voice broke as my knees buckled. They were gone.
The Life Series
This is a series I'm doing that's going to chronicle the Pevensie's lives if they would have stayed after the Prince Caspian movie. Starting with a young dryad growing up in the White Witch's reign. To the Pevensie's triumpant return to fight the telmarines. Moving on to an awkward courtship, a small expedition on the high seas with pirates (or maybe two expeditions), a king determined not to fall in love, and then a new generation carving their own stories into the Narnian world. It's the life of a family and of a nation and it's just like any life should be: A grand adventure!
It’s here: Book 1- Chapter 1