Chapter Text
The dying light of the lantern sent flickers of warmth across the page of the book, giving spare moments to read the flowing ink. You stretch and yawn, having studied in Dr. Cornelius’ library for a few hours, the room shifting from sunlight to moonlight causing chilled air to fill the high room. Rushed steps break your attention as someone nears the library door. Caspian bursts through followed by Dr. Cornelius, both with fear and determination in their eyes. Your mentor and friend, both protectors of your secret lineage, gasping for breath.
“It's a son,” Caspian sputters.
Panic and sorrow fills you, fearing for what Miraz will do to you all now that he has his own heir. The instructions from Dr. Cornelius flood your mind, the duty you must fulfill should this be the case.
“Take the keys, I will hold them off for as long as I can. Please be safe, Caspian” you declare, reaching for your blade.
As they leave, you hear Dr. Cornelius tell Caspian, “You must make for the woods”. Their steps grow fainter as they wind down the back staircase towards the stables where Destier surely was waiting and saddled to carry Caspian to safety. Sweat beads on your forehead and coats your hands underneath your silken gloves. Breathing deep, you steady your now racing heart as you know what you must do to protect the future of Narnia, the future of your home. The knights, led by Captain Glozelle, break down the door to the library and stop short when they see you standing there.
“Out for a late night stroll about the castle, Glozelle?” you ask cooly, hoping to take his attention off of the back staircase door.
He sneers. “Where is the boy?”
It was more of a demand than a question, visible anger at Caspian’s absence rising to the surface. “Caspian?” you feign confusion into your voice as you hold your dagger behind your back. “I have not seen him tonight”. You step back a little from the guards but Glozelle steps closer.
"Then where do you think he may be?" he questions further.
"I am not sure, I have been here all night and no one has been through." you utter, barely managing to keep your cool as Glozelle nears even closer.
Your hands tighten around the blade and he senses your movement, giving away your lies.
Catching your bluff, Glozelle nods his head and the guards rush you. Ducking below each’s reach, you slash your dagger at the nearest guards legs causing him to fall. As you twist to fend of the second, the hilt of a sword collides with your skull making everything go black.
You awake to the warmth of sunlight but the cold of the hard floor. Ropes bind your arms and feet together, a gag loose around your neck. As your vision clears you see a dwarf with red hair on his knees next to you, a hateful gaze caked on his face. You look up to see Miraz sitting on the throne. A cocky grin plastered to his face.
“Gag the witch and bring them both” he nods towards you. “They both have something to do with Caspian escaping so they both shall pay.”
The guards drag you and the dwarf into the council room, advisors already seated and waiting on Miraz’s arrival.
“Lords of the council, my apologies for being late. I was not aware we were in session.” Miraz drawled. He eyed the room, chin high in the air.
“No doubt you were otherwise occupied,” Sopesian countered.
“Ever since the death of Caspian the ninth, you have behaved as if you were king. And now it seems behind these walls, even Prince Caspian has gone missing,” a council member you could not place a name to spoke out into the room.
“My deepest condolences, Lord Miraz. Imagine losing your nephew, the rightful heir to the throne, on the very night your wife has blessed you with a son,” Sopesian added on to the members statement.
“Thank you, Lord Sopesian, I can assure you I have come with reason to Prince Caspian's disappearance, Guards, bring them forward.” Miraz demanded.
They dragged you and the dwarf forward, a chorus of gasps and disbelief filled the room as a result. Figures, you think, the Narnians were believed to be extinct, hunted down by Telmarines. You could hardly believe your eyes either when you awoke bound next to a dwarf.
“This dwarf is proof we have yet to eradicate our enemies, and this apprentice to Dr. Cornelius aided them alongside her mentor, who is already in the dungeons” Miraz spat.
Your heart sinks hearing that the old kind man who helped you stay safe in this world is now suffering. A truly undeserved fate for the one that kept half of you and himself secret so that you could live amongst the castle walls, warm and well fed.
“Do not worry, my lords, as I will have my guards personally dispose of them” Miraz assures. You are both led away from the hall, the fear that you will never see Dr. Cornelius or Caspian again settling into your very bones.
~Edmunds POV
A fist cracks across Peter's face as Edmund rushes into the fray, leaping onto one of the other boys. This is not the first time this has happened and certainly will not be the last. Edmund hears the cries of Lucy calling his name, distracting him for a split second as the boy he tackled throws him off. As he regains his balance, fist curling up and ready, the other boys take off as soldiers show up to the scene.
They grab Peter by the collar, yelling “Act your age!” in his face.
Edmund finds a nearby bench to sit on after Peter does not take kindly to his thank you. ‘I had it handled’ was all he said. Edmund thought it looked more like he was getting handled by those other boys. He then notices Susan get stone still, as a nerdy boy walk towards them on the platform.
“Pretend you’re talking to me.” she hissed under her breath
“We are talking to you.” Edmund countered.
All of the sudden Lucy jumps from their chosen bench proclaiming that something pinched her. Soon after, they all begin feeling pokes and prods as the wind picks up and time seems to jump forward. Edmund feels hope build in his chest at the chance they are finally going back home after a whole year.
“Everyone hold hands!” Susan exclaimed.
“I am not holding your hand!” Edmund says to Peter. Regardless, the train platform began to shift into more natural looking rock as opposed to the grimy brick. The scent of salty air rushed past his nose, confirming that they were home.
Edmund rushes towards the water, as his brother and sisters follow. Splashing Peter in the face Edmund laughs, then stops. Facing their entrance he sees a set of ruins. “Where do you suppose we are?” he asks.
“Well where do you think?” Peter retorted, splashing water at a giggling Lucy.
“I don’t remember there being any ruins in Narnia,” he said, causing the other three to pause and turn to face where he was looking.
They make their way towards the ruins and discover their old throne room now in ruins. Down a set of stairs reveals a sort of treasury, a preservation of their memories of the Kings and
Queens of old. Chests set before statues hold their old clothes and weapons. Edmund digs in pulling out a blue tunic and white undershirt, using his new torch to light the items inside.
Dressed and armed the four leave the ruins and head back down to the beach spotting a boat drifting through the waters with two soldiers and two bound figures.