8Chapter Seven: Father?
Susan, Lucy, and Amy, exhausted by their grief, had lain their heads on Aslan's quickly cooling body to rest. The sprite was awakened by the sounds of laboured breathing, and the sisters woke up as she darted to the top of the steps, sword drawn, to see who—or what—was there.
"James!" she cried, upon seeing the mion, thoroughly exhausted, struggling to drag himself up the hill. She sheathed her blade and descended to help him. "Are you all right?" she asked gently.
"No," he panted. "I am not. Of my fatigue, I shall recover in a few minutes. Of my grief, well." They slowly ascended the great stone slabs that served as steps to where Susan stood, watching with concern. "I'm fine," he assured her before she could ask. And with that, he staggered to the Stone Table to join Aslan once more.
It was well past dawn now, though the sky was overcast here, and the hill itself was freezing; the place where the Witch's power had extinguished the warmth of hope. At last, Amy, still beside herself, murmured to James, "If we could have stopped it...what would have changed? I mean...if someone could have stopped Jesus' crucifixion because they had known it would happen, would they have stopped it?" James looked at her sharply. This was the first reference to Christianity she had made since that trip in the winter, what seemed like ages ago.
He had no answer for her. Instead, he murmured, "We should go."
Lucy looked up for the first time. "I'm so cold." The Witch's power had taken a hold of them. Nonetheless, she began to walk away.
James briefly lay his paw on Aslan's shoulder and pushed his nose into the thicker fur where the mane had been. "Goodbye, my friend," he said calmly, before turning abruptly and striding away. Amy was startled by his stoicism. He had always been so open around her, but now he had retreated into his shell of poker-faced, unreadable, and emotionless.
With lingering glances over their shoulders, the four went away from that place. When at last their backs were turned, the wind began to howl, and there was a great cracking and rumbling behind them that shook them to the ground. Whirling around, they saw that the Stone Table had broken, and Aslan's body was gone.
Rage flowed through James, and he clenched his jaws to suppress a furious snarl. "What have they done?" he cried at the same time that Lucy asked "Where's Aslan?" They stared in awe and wonder.
Their eyes were soon drawn to the great stone arch, where they could see the sun emerging from behind a cloud. This was not what their gazes were drawn to, however, but to a magnificent and familiar silhouette against its light. "Aslan!" they all exclaimed in joy, skirting the split table to embrace him. He laughed gently, though enough to be heard over James' thunderous purr.
"But we saw the knife," the mion managed at last, in awe. "The witch."
"If the witch knew the true meaning of sacrifice, she might have interpreted the Deep Magic differently," Aslan replied, "That when a willing victim who has committed no treachery is killed in a traitor's stead, the Stone Table will crack," his voice echoed slightly off the stone, "and even death itself will turn backwards."
"We sent the news that you were dead," Susan told him.
"Peter and Edmund have gone to war," James confirmed.
"We have to help them," Lucy drew her dagger.
Aslan only chuckled. "We will, dear one. But not alone. Climb on my back," he said, crouching for them. "We have far to go, and little time to get there."
Feeling something powerful rising inside him, James was compelled to add, "And you may want to cover your ears," before he and Aslan let loose tremendous roars that echoed off the valley side.
And so they were off. James ran beside Aslan, all former exhaustion gone, only pure energy running through his limbs. Susan and Lucy rode upon the Great Lion's back. And Amy; she did something she had dreamed of but had never allowed herself to do until such a moment as this: she flew. As soon as she had mastered the movements, she was darting about in the air, twisting and turning and flipping and looping and doing barrel rolls—her face was that definition of joy. She would even add in a few bursts of colour or the images of water and waves rolling through the sky.
They descended into the valley, racing over the plains. Trees lined the fields on one side, a river on the other. Before them rose the snow-capped crags of the mountains. "Where are we going?" James asked with pricked ears and quivering whiskers. No one replied, although he was certain that the sprite that flew beside him knew the answer.
Their destination came into view just then, anyway; but instead of quenching his curiosity, it only made it stronger. The Witch's Castle. And Curiosity. The twin-peaked ice mountain rose stark amid a placid, glimmering lake—James fancied it might once have been frozen solid. In fact, it looked as though the castle itself were beginning to melt.
"Hang on," Aslan called to the girls, and doubled the pace.
—
Norrington crept warily through the forest of stone figures. They all looked eerily realistic, and the place itself was so desolate that it was creepy. Amy led the way through the oddly posed figures, which seemed as though they had been frozen mid-action, threading her way until she came to the statue of a faun. Without thinking, she reached up and touched his cheek. "There is still hope for you," she whispered. James could only shoot her a bewildered look.
"Oh no." She turned to face the mion. He was staring at something near the faun's hooves. "Look."
She bent down to see the fox, frozen in stone. "Jack."
The mion rounded on her. "You said he was alive!"
The sprite puffed up with indignation. "He was when I checked. Calm down, will ya? Everything will be okay."
"How? He's dead."
"So was Aslan," she replied softly, though firmly, and that shut him up.
Lucy and Susan had come to these statues now, surrounded by the dripping ice and stone of the castle, and the younger began to cry at the sight of her friend. However, always calm, Aslan padded over to the statue and breathed on the faun, his breath stirring the stone curls of his hair.
Slowly, slowly, the grey of rock became colour, and a slow, deep heartbeat could be heard. At last, as stone turned to flesh, Tumnus gasped for breath and was alive. He stumbled forward, nearly collapsing, and was caught by an overjoyed Lucy. Their gazes met, and they began to laugh with relief. "Susan, this is—"
"—Mr Tumnus!" the elder cried, flinging herself to hug him.
James was staring at them with eyes wide, ears sideways, and jaw on the floor. "'I walked in a valley of dead bones,'" he quoth breathlessly, "'and the Lord put flesh on the bones and breathed the breath of life into them, and they were alive.'"
Tumnus suddenly looked up from the embrace, catching sight of the sprite. He shoved himself in front of the girls, crying, "Get behind me!" The air between the faun and the sprite crackled with tension as the former waited for the latter to attack. "You coward," he scorned, "stalking these Daughters of Eve like prey—awaiting the opportunity to make your kill!" That one really hurt—she'd thought she'd left all the prejudice behind her.
James surged forward, ears pinned, teeth bared, to her defense.
"Mr Tumnus, she won't hurt us," Lucy told him; but the faun's countenance did not waver.
Instead, he turned his head to look at her. "I've already put you in danger once. I won't let it happen again."
"They are in no danger," Norrington growled, tail lashing. "She has been working with Aslan and the army from the start, and has been ostracized instead of appreciated for her efforts. Be a little more grateful; she is part of the reason we are here to save you."
Tumnus, partly in awe of the mion and partly in actual realization, dropped his aggression immediately and stared at the sprite. "Then you are not a coward at all," he said sincerely, looking her square in the eye with obvious admiration. "In fact, I'd say you were very brave to have defied your people and taken a stand, even when others were resentful of you." He awkwardly put out his left hand (as he had only once before shaken hands) and she grasped it and gave it one of her firm, manly shakes (although now not so manly for the size of her hand). "I am sorry I treated you so unjustly," he said, holding her hand a moment longer with a penetrating look.
"Given the circumstances, I have to admit that I do understand, however much I would enjoy being angry." She suddenly squeaked as something cold and wet landed in her free hand. She looked down to see the fox that held a shard of Jack's being, red leather collar shining with wet. She chirruped with excitement (a sound that sprites apparently make) and scooped up the canine—which was half as big as she was—without difficulty, cuddling him and pressing her face into his orange fur. "Everything's all right now," she sighed before looking up to meet James' gaze, eyes flashing. "Mission accomplished."
"That's all very well, but..." He flicked his ears, casting about for the right words.
"Come," Aslan interrupted them, several Narnians stirring back to life around him. "We must hurry and search the castle. Peter will need everyone we can find."
The two girls, faun, mion, and sprite, all exchanged expressions before following him into the dripping, melting castle, Curiosity leashed and obediently trotting along beside them. "Is there any danger to him now that the worst is past?" Norrington was finally able to mutter to the sprite.
"I don't think so." She twitched her ears subtly. "Why?"
"I want to stay and help."
"I thought you didn't want to get involved with the war?"
"Amy, look me in the eye and tell me truthfully." They stopped while the rest of the group went on ahead. She looked up and evenly met his intense, icy green gaze. "This story runs parallel to the Bible, doesn't it?"
"Yes."
"Then we must fight. Our faith means to fight sin every day. Isn't that what this whole war is about?"
She nodded, though she wasn't sure which war he meant - Narnia's, or the Realms'. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I want to stay and fight, too."
He laid a paw on her shoulder, as though proud of her, and they set off after the others.
—
He surprised her that afternoon, when he became a horse right in the middle of her shack. It must have been time, she supposed. He couldn't stay a man forever, after all. Still, it had scared the life out of her when the winds of transformation had blown through her home. He, on the other hand, seemed perfectly unconcerned, as though he knew this was natural for him even though he couldn't remember why he had to change. "Ya couldn' do dat outside?" she scolded him, only half-serious. He took no notice of her, however. All sorts of smells and sounds were here that he hadn't been able to distinguish before as a man, and he proceeded to stick his nose into everything he could find.
But there was something odd about him now. His coat where it had been a dark bay, now had patches of roan. She supposed the colour of his pelt was incomplete because he himself was incomplete. It was a curious thing, but she resolved not to be baffled by it, for her logic made sense.
—
They hurried down the halls and up into the towers of the melting castle, searching every room, every stairwell, every cell in the dungeon, searching for stone prisoners. At last, with a large regiment of Narnians behind them that would add a third again to the army, they set off toward the battleground, where every Narnian heart—and even those not Narnian—could feel a battle raging on. One that Narnia would win only with their help. That knowledge lent speed to their strides.
Soon—where soon may mean a manner of minutes or over an hour—a great precipice of rock and boulders came into sight, and from beyond it, the sounds of battle; the clang of swords, the yells and noises, the neigh of horses, and the cries of pain.
Aslan roared once as they approached, the sound echoing off the rocks in the ravine, and then a second time as he came to the top, to be seen by all, louder and more ferocious than anything one had ever heard or imagined; a challenge to those that would trespass on his 'territory.'
Susan, Lucy, Amy, Tumnus, and James watched from atop a boulder as the White Witch, adorned with Aslan's shorn mane from before his death, a chain mail gown, and a golden headpiece resembling a dragon, was locked in battle with Peter. She looked up when Aslan roared, however, and even from their distance, the five could head her gasp, "Impossible!"
"Improbable!" Amy cried at the top of her lungs, with tears of triumph prickling her eyes as the fresh wave of soldiers streamed past them into battle.
"Come on," James urged her, clawing at the ground with the tip of his boot and gripping his sword impatiently.
Amy was about the agree then she felt a touch on her shoulder, and she turned to see Tumnus crouching beside her. "It would be an honour to fight beside you both."
"An honour that shall be granted you," she replied eagerly (before noting how Narnian speech had rubbed off on her), and the three of them launched themselves into battle. Tumnus, having no weapon, was able to salvage a halberd from a fallen faun, after tackling a hag and a minoboar. And so, the three of them fought, though aiming only to wound, for they knew themselves that the battle was already won.
And so it was; for moments later, it was declared that the Witch was dead, slain by Aslan himself, and all fighting ceased. The three stood and conversed, whilst Aslan and Lucy went about the battlefield with the breath of life and the healing juice of the fireflower.
Amy found that she liked the James McAvoy Tumnus much better than the book character. In fact, in the novel she had only ever seen him as a whiny, snobby, weak person. But here, he was so easily likeable, and, more importantly, real (not to mention brave and kind of cute. Okay, more than 'kind of').
A great feast awaited the troops that evening, held in celebration of their great victory. Seated between the mion and the faun, Ames eagerly tucked in, ignorant of manners (miffing proper James), though never rude. It was announced that the coronation would be held in two days. ("So soon," Ellie had remarked), in the halls of the castle Cair Paravel.
"Will another few days hurt us?" the mion muttered to the sprite. "Time-wise, I mean."
She shrugged. "I don't think so. But I thought you wanted to get out of here ASAP?"
He sighed. "I do. Well, I did. And after the way I snapped at you, I'd like to make it up to you. So what do you say? We've had a victory of our own. Why not celebrate?"
She grinned and nodded.
After supper, there was music and dance. Amy started out performing on flute with the band, and soon had the crowd in action with 'Meryton Townhall' from the Pride and Prejudice film. However, James Norrington sawr this as the perfect opportunity to teach her how to dance. He began by attempting to teach her a simple waltz, but their difference in height made things difficult. She found it much easier to learn the step-dance-like footwork of a faun celebration dance from Mr. Tumnus, which required no partners, but made an attractive picturesque with the faun dancing on one side of her and the mion joining in on the other, light on his feet as though he already knew the style of dance.
Amy later found herself dancing with Mr. Beaver (at last, someone as clumsy at dancing as she!), and then a very enthusiastic badger whose mate grew more jealous with each twirl and spin. She ended the night, however, doing a slow dance with Curiosity, placing his paws on her shoulders the way one would with a pet dog. The fox licked her face and grinned in the way that tame foxes do, and the celebrations ended with the soft melodies of Narnian lullabies (played exquisitely by Mr Tumnus) accompanying everyone to their tents and leading them to a content and well-deserved slumber.
Two days later, everyone had gathered in the halls of Cair Paravel by the Great Sea. The white marble and stone were beautiful, and Amy couldn't help but to admire the architecture of the place. She had never been inside a castle before—the closest she had ever come was an historic college in her hometown.
Centaurs lined the aisle, flags and halberds presented, and behind and around them, the rest of the company. A fanfare announced the beginning of the ceremony, and Edmund, Peter, Aslan, Susan, and Lucy, all adorned like royalty but for the lion, who was royalty enough as he was, processed down the aisle, toward the four thrones. The two beavers followed, bearing the crowns on maroon cushions lined with gold, and behind them, Tumnus and James.
The Pevensies went to their thrones and stood, facing the audience, while Aslan turned and addressed the company. "To the glistening Eastern Sea, I give you Queen Lucy, the Valiant." Tumnus took up the small crown and carefully, gently, placed it on the young girl's head. "To the great Western Wood, King Edmund, the Just." This one the mion crowned, bowing as the young king rose from his kneeling. They exchanged a small smile. "To the radiant Southern Sun, Queen Susan, the Gentle." Tumnus stooped to pick up the fragile-looking crown adorned with yellow-gold daffodils, and Susan curtseyed to receive it. And finally, "To the clear Northern Sky, I give you King Peter, the Magnificent." James, praying that he would not mess up now of all times, placed the golden crown on the High King, and bowed away. He and Tumnus retreated to opposite ends of the terrace and bowed low, as Aslan turned to the newly-anointed royalty. "Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen. May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens."
Then came the 'all hails' and much cheering. "Long live King Peter! Long live King Edmund! Long live Queen Susan! Long live Queen Lucy!" And thus was the ceremony over, to be followed by a feast even greater than that which had followed their victory over the Witch.
James approached Amy in the crowded and musical hall, and after conversing for a few moments, they went to join Lucy and Tumnus on a balcony overlooking the Sea as they watched Aslan padding away along the lapping waves, not to be seen again for some time. "So Aslan leaves, so must we also," the sprite murmured as she gazed at the great lion.
Tumnus turned to her in surprise. "So soon?"
"Our purpose here is finished, and the prophecy is fulfilled," James replied. "We've done what we came to do, and more."
"We'll miss you," Lucy said tearily, and James, beaten into submission by a cuteness factor, hugged her quickly before she scampered away to find her siblings.
Amy herself was drawn into a hug by the faun. "The prophecy has been fulfilled," she repeated softly. There was a flash of light and the ground shifted beneath her boots; suddenly Mr Tumnus didn't seem so big. In fact, he was nearly at eye level with her, and his expression of shock mirrored her own. She looked down at herself, and saw that she was again human, brown haired and un-pointy-eared.
She looked over at James to see that he, too, was human, and looking very confused as he felt at his beard. They stared at one another for a few moments, as though they had forgotten what the other looked like. "What's happening?" the former-mion asked, almost with concern. "Why are we like this now?"
"I-I think it's because of the prophecy. Now that it's come to pass, there can be other humans here, which includes us."
At the enquiring look from the faun, Ames launched into a brief, though detailed, explanation—for it made sense about there being more than one world here in this Realm. When she had finished, she nudged James and said, "Come on, we should say goodbye to Peter and them." She led the way back into the great hall, the other two following, and began to navigate her way through the crowd.
The creatures parted around them, and they could feel the stares prickling their skin, and the hushed exclamations of surprise and recognition. "Can that be the very sprite we distrusted? Here she was a Daughter of Eve all along."
"And see the way her companion carries himself—surely he is the mion!"
"Do you see anybody?" Ames murmured to James.
"No, I—"
"Father!" they heard Edmund cry, and he broke through the crowd, followed closely by Peter, Susan, and Lucy as they all hurled themselves at Norrington. "You came to find us!"
"I knew you seemed familiar, but I never thought—" Peter.
"I can't believe you've come back—" Susan.
"You grew a beard—" This from Lucy.
The four continued talking all at once, and so their silence was sharply felt when James abruptly pulled away from them, backing away another few paces for good measure. "No," he said breathlessly, looking around at them like a cornered animal. Was that fear? "I'm not—I mean I—but I'm not—," his voice was shaking, as though a common case of mistaken identity had shaken him to the core.
"Father," Lucy stepped closer—and he backed another pace away—, "what are you—?"
"Weren't you listening?" he snapped, beginning to lose composure. "I am not now, nor have I even been your father—Amy, get me out of here," he pleaded desperately.
She only nodded, placing her fingers in her mouth and whistling. Curiosity came bounding toward her, and she picked him up. "I'm terribly sorry for the misunderstanding," she said to the Pevensies with a look that said she was as confused as they were. "It's been a blast getting to know you and fighting by your sides, but," she spared a sympathetic look at James, who was looking around for a means of escape, trying to detach himself from the situation and looking very troubled, "we really should be going." She walked over to the armoured figure and slid her hand into his.
He looked at her, blinking in confusion and frustration. "I'm not, right?" he mumbled. "I can't be."
She cupped his cheek, but didn't answer, instead turning back to the four. "Thanks for everything, and farewell." With that, much to the surprise of those crowded around to see, the two—and their fox—disappeared in a whirlwind of turquoise.
And thus ends another episode! What's up with James? Find out in Interlude! Coming soon to a screen near you!