Bella breaks out some of her other food - peanut butter and crackers and chocolate chips - which go well if blandly with the tea. Presently they are all fed and tea'd and Mr Beaver says, "Time to be moving on, now."
"We can tuck them into the hideaway and maybe they will be useful to some other beaver someday," says Mrs. Beaver, and she sets about briskly doing that, and then they move on, Bella able to go quite a bit faster with scepter in hand.
It is warm, and the ground squishes with snowmelt, and quite abruptly there are crocuses and bluebells growing, and the birds are quite a lot louder than they were the previous day. The river's ice breaks and dissolves, and the river rises, and they turn away from its course a bit south towards the Stone Table.
When they have been walking all day and the sun is beginning to hang low in the sky (there have been pauses to rest - the Beavers are certain the Queen cannot ride her sleigh in the mud - and to eat candy and granola bars) they come at last to a hill, which they climb in what seems like a very short time.
From the top of this hill they can see forest spreading in every direction except straight ahead, where they have a clear view to the sparkling sea. And on this hilltop is - a stone table. The stones of it have peculiar markings carved into their surfaces, which make one feel just as peculiar if one looks at them; and then off to the side of it is a glorious pavilion. Banners with the same lion design as Elizabeth's shield fly from it.
There is a swell of music.
Aslan is standing in the center of a great group of creatures, some of which have instruments. There are dryads, and naiads, and four centaurs and a unicorn and a man-headed bull and an assortment of more recognizable creatures, and two leopards attend the great lion, one carrying his crown and the other his standard.
He is enormous. He emanates a feeling of goodness all around him, yet is terrifying all the same. He regards the new arrivals with a calm, not curious but expectant, expression on his face.
Elizabeth recovers quickly from her first impression, though. She makes herself look at him even though she instinctively wants to look away, and she steps up in front of him and says clearly and calmly, "We're here."
Aslan rests an enormous paw on her shoulder; it's heavy enough that she has to lean hard on her scepter to stay upright, but she does so. "Come, both of you, and I will show you a far-off sight of the castle where you are to be King and Queen."
He unpaws Bella and leads them both to the eastern edge of the hill and shows them, in the evening golden light from the sunset behind them under rosy clouds, miles of the most gorgeous landscape, punctuated - where a great snake of a river meets the sea - by a shining castle. The light is glinting off all the glass of its windows and it looks like a star come to rest, all glory and spectacle.
"That," says Aslan, "is Cair Paravel of the Thrones of the rightful rulers of Narnia, in which you will sit."
—but before she can come up with a suitable comment for the occasion, there is an abrupt cut-off scream from the far side of the pavilion. Dryads and naiads scatter in every direction, some of them also screaming.
Oh, so that's what Father Christmas meant by the sword and shield guiding her - is what James finds herself thinking as she drops her backpack, draws her sword, and bolts for the source of the trouble all in a single uninterrupted movement.
Bella runs towards the commotion, too, though not so swiftly as she's not really armed - backpack dropped next to James's, staff clutched tight in one hand and the other hand pressed over her pocket of cordial.
Aslan is with them, but when the braver of the other creatures start forward to the great wolf that has treed a naiad (naiads are the ones who are not supposed to be treed), he calls, "Back! Let the Prince win his spurs."
The Prince so named has very little time to analyze the situation before she's right behind the enormous wolf, slashing at its back with her sword. It turns on her in a blink, howling with rage; she lunges forward and stabs it in the heart with all her eleven-year-old strength.
The wolf's neck is still long enough for it to lunge forward, fire in its eyes, and scrape its teeth against her forehead - but that's all. It dies on her sword.
The naiad creeps down, making curtseys and uttering stammered thanks.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-06-23 01:00 am (UTC)Yum yum tea!
no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:02 am (UTC)Bella breaks out some of her other food - peanut butter and crackers and chocolate chips - which go well if blandly with the tea. Presently they are all fed and tea'd and Mr Beaver says, "Time to be moving on, now."
no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:39 am (UTC)Around them, the winter thaws as they walk.
It is warm, and the ground squishes with snowmelt, and quite abruptly there are crocuses and bluebells growing, and the birds are quite a lot louder than they were the previous day. The river's ice breaks and dissolves, and the river rises, and they turn away from its course a bit south towards the Stone Table.
When they have been walking all day and the sun is beginning to hang low in the sky (there have been pauses to rest - the Beavers are certain the Queen cannot ride her sleigh in the mud - and to eat candy and granola bars) they come at last to a hill, which they climb in what seems like a very short time.
From the top of this hill they can see forest spreading in every direction except straight ahead, where they have a clear view to the sparkling sea. And on this hilltop is - a stone table. The stones of it have peculiar markings carved into their surfaces, which make one feel just as peculiar if one looks at them; and then off to the side of it is a glorious pavilion. Banners with the same lion design as Elizabeth's shield fly from it.
There is a swell of music.
Aslan is standing in the center of a great group of creatures, some of which have instruments. There are dryads, and naiads, and four centaurs and a unicorn and a man-headed bull and an assortment of more recognizable creatures, and two leopards attend the great lion, one carrying his crown and the other his standard.
He is enormous. He emanates a feeling of goodness all around him, yet is terrifying all the same. He regards the new arrivals with a calm, not curious but expectant, expression on his face.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:48 am (UTC)Elizabeth recovers quickly from her first impression, though. She makes herself look at him even though she instinctively wants to look away, and she steps up in front of him and says clearly and calmly, "We're here."
no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:53 am (UTC)He has a deep, rich, soothing voice, like the intersection of melted chocolate and a hot bath and velvet.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:55 am (UTC)Elizabeth—James—grins. "Thank you," she says, with a little bow.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 01:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:03 am (UTC)He unpaws Bella and leads them both to the eastern edge of the hill and shows them, in the evening golden light from the sunset behind them under rosy clouds, miles of the most gorgeous landscape, punctuated - where a great snake of a river meets the sea - by a shining castle. The light is glinting off all the glass of its windows and it looks like a star come to rest, all glory and spectacle.
"That," says Aslan, "is Cair Paravel of the Thrones of the rightful rulers of Narnia, in which you will sit."
no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:25 am (UTC)Oh, so that's what Father Christmas meant by the sword and shield guiding her - is what James finds herself thinking as she drops her backpack, draws her sword, and bolts for the source of the trouble all in a single uninterrupted movement.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:42 am (UTC)The naiad creeps down, making curtseys and uttering stammered thanks.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-23 02:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
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