The Friends of Narnia- a fanfic

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Lady_Tirian

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Disclaimer: Narnia and all things relating to it are the sole invention and property of C.S. Lewis and his heirs. This was written for fun and no money is being made, etc. etc.

Title: The Friends of Narnia
Author: Lady_Tirian
Rating: G
Notes: I wrote this after re-reading the Chronicles, in an attempt to fill in what I thought must have been the Professor's thoughts and some of the background leading to the meeting of the Friends of Narnia which Tirian sees in his dream/vision in 'The Last Battle'. I've borrowed some words from the books, which I'm sure you'll all recognize.


Digory was an old man now. And he felt his years.

But as he listened to the tale that the four young Pevensie children told him, he remembered his own youth—and for those few moments, he was the boy Digory again.

“…And don’t talk too much about it even among yourselves. And don’t mention it to anyone else unless you find that they’ve had adventures of the same sort themselves,” he added, from his own experience. “What’s that? How will you know? Oh, you’ll know all right. Odd things they say—even their looks—will let the secret out.” He looked from child to child, seeing the difference in their eyes, their expressions. Oh yes, they would learn to see… And when they did, he would tell him of his own adventure… “Bless me, what do they teach them at these schools?” he muttered out of habit, disgusted with the general skepticism of the world these days.

Ah, but Narnia! To hear of it again; to know now what had become of that world he had witnessed the birth of!

The four Pevensie children filed out of his study silently and once they did, he turned back to his desk.

He had a letter to write.

My dear Polly,

How have you been faring? I know I am feeling all my years now in these bones of mine—or at least, I was, until a few minutes ago.

I had invited the children of some acquaintances of mine, the Pevensies, to stay with me as their parents were worried about them remaining in London during these air raids.

There are four of them in all, Peter the oldest one, is 16; Susan, the next eldest, is 15, followed by Edmund who is 13 and Lucy who is 11. And they have just told me the most extraordinary tale.

Polly, it has happened. They have gone into Narnia!

They found their way into Narnia by way of the Wardrobe which I had built- you know which one. And they have had such adventures there. Narnia had been under the enchantment of a White Witch- a descendant of Jadis no doubt- who had made it forever winter and never Christmas, persecuting all the loyal Talking Creatures and forbidding the name of Aslan to be mentioned. But these children found their way in, were befriended first by a Faun and then by a Beaver couple. Then Aslan returned—and in a much more complicated tale than I will relate now, rescued Narnia from under the enchantment.

The four children were crowned the Kings and Queens of Narnia to rule in the Castle of Cair Paravel- and they did rule. Wisely and well, for many years, until, during a hunt for the White Stag, they made their way back to the old Lamp-post (yes, Polly, it is still there, in a Forest now) and from there back into the Wardrobe, once more children, though they had grown to be men and women in Narnia.

They hardly seem able to believe what has happened, I think. I did not tell them of our own adventures in Narnia; they will see it in time. Already I can see a change in their expressions, their eyes- I am sure you will see it too, Polly, if you ever meet them. Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia, you know. And they are- for all that they are school-children yet. You can see royalty in their eyes, their bearing, if one knows how to look.

They will see it.

And somehow I feel sure that these children are fated to return to Narnia once more- as we were not, Polly. I do wonder when their next adventure will be; I will have to make sure I follow their lives once their visit with me ends.

As for me, Polly, hearing their story has made me realize how long it’s been since our last meeting. More than 2 years, is it not? We must remedy that and soon. Meet to talk over our adventure and I can relate to you in more detail the adventure of the Pevensies; I assure you it is well worth a telling.

By the Lion, Polly, but this has made me young again! I feel as if I will find myself riding Fledge again any moment now.

Aslan protect you, until we meet again, Polly.

Your friend,
Digory

~*~*~
Peter Pevensie entered his study at his usual time to begin the lesson but he looked different. Changed. Both elated and yet unaccountably wistful.

And Digory knew.

He pushed the lesson for today aside; this was entirely another matter and more important altogether.

“What has happened, Peter?” he asked, although he suspected he knew.

And he was right.

“Oh, Professor, I just had a letter from Edmund and Lucy and they- they found their way back to Narnia!”

“Ah!”

“Yes!” Peter’s eyes shone with shared excitement, mingled with sharp regret that he had not been able to share it with them. “They, and our cousin, Eustace, were drawn into a picture of a Narnian ship and met with Caspian, King Caspian now, and sailed on his ship, the Dawn Treader, to the Eastern Edge of the World, having many adventures on the way. But, Edmund and Lucy say that Aslan told them that this was to be their last visit to Narnia as well.”

For a fleeting moment, the boy Peter vanished and in his place, Digory saw the High King Peter, the man who was resigned and too wise to regret.

And then the boy returned.

Digory did not try to hide his smile. “Well, well, so Narnia has called again.”

“Yes.”

Peter fell silent, thinking no doubt of what his brother and sister had written of their adventures and then looked up, beginning, “Professor, I-”

But whatever he had been about to ask was never said for at that moment, his eyes met Digory’s and Digory saw the recognition in Peter’s eyes.

Ah, yes, here it comes.

“Professor,” Peter began again, more hesitantly now, “have you—you’ve been to Narnia as well,” he said slowly and it wasn’t really a question.

“Yes, Peter, I have. Many years ago when I was younger than you are now. I and a friend of mine, Polly Plummer, were in Narnia for the beginning of it all. We saw when the animals learned to talk…”

Peter sucked in his breath sharply but he stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt, and Digory continued, speaking slowly, his eyes closed as he remembered.

“We were there at the beginning of it all. We saw the Lamppost be planted, faced another evil Witch, named Jadis, no doubt an ancestor of the White Witch you and your siblings defeated on your first visit to Narnia. Yes, we were there…”

“Oh, what was it like?”

And he told Peter his adventure- from beginning to end, and then listened as Peter related his brother and sister’s latest adventure in as much detail as they had written him, and no studying was done that particular day.

...

~~~
The rest in the next post.
 
~*~*~
It began with a wire Digory wrote to Polly and then to the Pevensies, who then wrote to Eustace who then wrote to Jill.

Digory had had a growing feeling of unease. Something was not right. In fact, if this premonition he had was any indication, something was terribly, horribly wrong in Narnia. He wrote and told Polly of his fears and on finding she felt the same, they had decided it was time for another of the Friends of Narnia meetings (as they unofficially called themselves). They had decided- soon after Edmund and Lucy’s voyage on the Dawn Treader, to meet to share their adventures and speculate on what might be happening in Narnia and they had continued to meet, when they could, as their group expanded to include Eustace and Jill and then decreased as Susan lost her faith.

And now here they were, the Seven Friends of Narnia, sitting around a table.

Peter always sat at the head of the table at these meetings, although he had tried at the first of them to convince Digory he belonged at the head as the oldest one in the group and the first one to have discovered Narnia.

But Digory had shaken his head. “No, you are the High King. We are all, in that respect, your subjects.” And then he had repeated Aslan’s words of so long ago (well, he began them and Peter, Edmund and Lucy chimed in with him), “Once a King or Queen in Narnia, always a King or Queen in Narnia.”

They all smiled and Peter had nodded, just once, and sat down at the head of the table. And they all felt, though none of them said it, that it was at those moments sitting at the head of the table, when Peter most looked again like the High King Peter, a warrior, despite his years.

He never argued again and they never discussed it again. But always at these meetings, someone (sometimes Digory, sometimes Polly, sometimes Edmund and once, Lucy) began, “Once a King or Queen in Narnia…” and everyone finished the sentence together.

This particular meeting was the most serious of them all; there were no laughing stories of things that had happened in the Golden Age or teasing over their old adventures. They were quieter, more subdued, as they all wondered what was happening in Narnia at that moment.

It was Lucy this time who sighed heavily and said, “Oh I wish…” She didn’t complete the thought but everyone knew she’d been about to say she wished she could get back into Narnia.

And Peter gave her a look, automatically falling back into his High King language. “Nay, sister. It is not for us to wish against Aslan’s will.”

Lucy looked suitably chastened but then smiled as Peter added, the boy once more, “But, by the Lion, I’d give all I had if I could!”

And Edmund said, more softly, “Just to see Him again, you know.”

They all nodded for they all knew. It was not so much the loss of Narnia, the land, the world, they all knew and loved. It was the loss of Him. They had all tried to understand what He had meant when he said the door to His country was in their own world, that He was even to be found there, though under a different name. But somehow, though Digory, Polly and Peter sometimes felt a sort of inexplicable comfort as if from His presence, they still felt the lack of it. For in Narnia, Aslan was not just a name, but a tangible presence even in His absence. In Narnia, they always felt closer to Him, although perhaps that was only from the hope they always carried that He might appear to them.

Eustace and Jill were the only ones who could smile, a very small, slight smile, because they could hope. They had never been told they could not return to Narnia.

They all fell silent then, each thinking their own thoughts, although all of them thought of Aslan, when it appeared.

Was it a ghost? A phantom? A hallucination? An illusion?

But no, it couldn’t be an illusion, not when all of them saw it.

It was a young man, a little older than Peter was, blond and blue-eyed with a frank, honest face and courage in his eyes and expression. But, more importantly, he was dressed in clothes they recognized the style of, odd though it would have appeared if they had seen it on the street. He was dressed like a Narnian.

Lucy saw all this in a glance as she leaped to her feet with a cry at the same moment as Eustace and Jill also leaped up.

As if from far away she heard a tinkle of breaking glass but it didn’t register in her conscious mind. It didn’t register in anyone’s mind at that moment; they were all staring at the young man. There was longing, unmistakable entreaty, in his expression and his stance, as he stared back at them and for a moment, Lucy felt a wisp of warm air on her forehead, as if Aslan had just breathed on her, and heard in her mind, a very deep, very dear, very familiar voice say softly, All who truly seek will find…

Finally Peter spoke, his voice steady, commanding, the High King in truth. “Speak, if you’re not a phantom or a dream. You have a Narnian look about you and we are the seven friends of Narnia.”

The young man seemed to be trying to speak, to say something, but no words came out; his lips didn’t- or couldn’t- move. He only stood there, gazing at them, a silent plea in his eyes.

Peter rose and if anyone had thought to look at him, they would have noticed that he stood taller than usual; his stature seemed to have grown in the last few seconds until he looked every inch the king and formidable warrior he was- despite his pallor. “Shadow or spirit or whatever you are,” he said again, “If you are from Narnia, I charge you in the name of Aslan, speak to me. I am Peter the High King.”

They all felt the power in Peter’s words and Lucy and Jill both shivered a little but then they forgot about Peter.

The man wavered, then blurred, then faded.

Eustace exclaimed, “Look! It’s fading” at the exact same instant that Polly chimed in, “It’s melting away” and Jill said, “It’s vanishing” and Lucy heard herself say, “He’s leaving.”

And Digory said, quietly, “It’s gone.”

They all stared blankly at the spot where the apparition- vision- whatever- had appeared before sinking back into their seats, turning to look at each other, seeing the same wide-eyed look of shock in everyone’s faces.

Then they all spoke at once on what it could mean, who it could have been, Jill saying she thought he looked a little like Rilian, maybe it was his son, and no one could tell who was saying what in the chaos of voices until finally, Peter raised his voice, “Enough!”

And everyone shut up. No one disobeyed the High King when he spoke like that in that tone. It was as close to the unquestionable authority of Aslan as any human could have.

“We need to stay calm. Obviously, Narnia needs us, that is, needs you,” he said, looking at Eustace and Jill.

And Jill said aloud what they were all thinking. “But we don’t know how to get to Narnia; Aslan’s always brought us before.”

Edmund interjected at this point, “Something really terrible must be happening; we’ve never been approached like that by a Narnian before; it was always through Aslan.”

They were silent for a moment until Digory finally said, “The magic rings- that’s the only way.”

Polly exclaimed, “Of course, the rings! That’s the only way we know of, for sure, to get into Narnia.”

Peter nodded. “Good, the rings are what we need so we’ll need to get them back somehow.”

And after some planning, they finally decided on a plan.

Eustace and Jill said the least; they were preoccupied with wondering what they would find in Narnia when they went there. Who was the young man who’d appeared? Could it really be Rilian’s son, perhaps? How long had it been in Narnian time since their last visit, though? Jill wondered a little sickly if Rilian was still alive; maybe it’d be like what had happened to King Caspian for Eustace when he went back the last time.

Whoever it was, he was Narnia’s king.

No one questioned that; he had had the look, the air, which only belongs to the true kings of Narnia who rule by the will of Aslan and sit in the throne of the High King at Cair Paravel.

The unknown young man was the true king. Through him, Narnia called for aid.

Narnia called for aid—and they, the seven friends of Narnia, with Aslan’s help, would answer the call…

~~~
The End

Feedback welcome!!
 
LadyT, that was amazing, seriously cool. You've managed to capture the feel of the books in what you've written, and I can easily picture the events linking in with what CSL wrote. It's pretty much as I'd created the back story myself, but it's v cool to see it in words on the page!
You captured 'Jack's' style almost perfectly! Brilliant- good job!
 
That was really good Lady Tirian, it was clear and well-written and had a wonderful flow to it - thanks so much for posting it!

And if I haven't already mentioned it - welcome to the sight!
 
Nice going, Lady T! I think had CS Lewis been writing this part of the story himself, it would have sounded very much like what you have written here! Thank you for sharing.

(Sorry it took so long for me to post -- I got busy.)

Anyway, really nice work. :D
 
Looks like this thread is six years old :eek: but I really like this story - Very nice, and I agree with the others about the language of it. It reads much like the books. No difficulty at all stepping from the book right into your story. Well done. :)
 
Yes, very well done. Only, don't say "The End" at the bottom of that installment, because we expect to see more.

Peter always sat at the head of the table at these meetings, although he had tried at the first of them to convince Digory he belonged at the head as the oldest one in the group and the first one to have discovered Narnia.

But Digory had shaken his head. "No, you are the High King. We are all, in that respect, your subjects." And then he had repeated Aslan's words of so long ago (well, he began them, and Peter, Edmund and Lucy chimed in with him), "Once a King or Queen in Narnia, always a King or Queen in Narnia."

They all smiled and Peter had nodded, just once, and sat down at the head of the table.

This part was like a fresh breeze of clean air. In the years since "Prince NON-Caspian" polluted the movie screens by its presence, it has been horrifying how many people failed to SEE what a gigantic AND INTENTIONAL insult Andrew Adamson had made against C.S. Lewis by turning Peter into an idiot who didn't know his head from his elbow. The modern world has lowered the bar, pulling down what is noble and refusing to believe in even the degree of honor and integrity that IS fully possible for fallible mortals. People say "A character has to be believable," MEANING he has to be a dweeb and a jerk, because THEY aren't ready to be challenged to be better. But the dignity which you give back to Peter here not only is what LEWIS wanted him to have, but is in fact perfectly possible to living people in the real world.

Speaking of dignity, the way you show Professor Kirke here giving place to Peter does NOT insult or diminish the Professor, because it is done right. Kirke's dignity is only made GREATER by his modesty.
 
I totally agree with your assessment, about Peter and Professor Kirke. Even in the first film (The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe) that negative side of his personality seems to have been present. Another aspect of Peter's personality that I did not like in that film was in the opening scene, during the air-raid on London, when, in my opinion, Peter comes across as a bit of a bully towards his brother, although that may have been done deliberately to explain why Edmund later so readily betrayed his brother and sisters to the
White Witch. x
 
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