Peter knew he should’ve known better than to expect real comfort in a Beaver’s dam. It was cozy, alright, and a welcome respite from the cold. But it was cramped. Which was to be expected, really, since it was a beaver’s dam.
“We have got to save Mister Tumnus!” Lucy was insisting as she and her elder siblings sat on the cramped, beaver-sized stools. Her face was pale and Peter noted with growing concern that she was shaking. Not with the cold – it was warm inside the Dam – but with fright.
“There are few who go through those gates,” Beaver said ominously, “and fewer who go back.” Mrs. Beaver nudged her husband and motioned at Lucy, who looked very close to crying.
“Fish and chips?” Mrs. Beaver shoved a dish of… well, fish… and potato chips. Peter appreciated the effort – he was hungry! But the dish looked miserable, and they all felt miserable. Lucy shook her head.
“But,” said the She-beaver, sitting down beside her husband, “there is hope.”
“And a right bit of hope that is,” said Mister Beaver. He leaned closer and whispered, “Aslan is on the move.”
The Pevensies – including Edmund, who was sitting at the back – looked at each other in confusion. Peter felt awed at the name. There was something so majestic about it, so comforting. For a moment there, he thought the world would right itself again and everything would be fine.
“Who’s Aslan?”
It was all Peter could do not to reach out and strangle Edmund.
“You’re kidding, right?” beaver laughed shakily. “They don’t…” Mrs. Beaver nudged him and he promptly stopped laughing. “Ah… You don’t know. Well then…”
*~*~*
Outside the dam, hidden behind the trees, the figure looked on worriedly as the younger brother trudged up the hill towards the White Witch’s castle. It was not good. He had been to Narnia before and the White Witch had done something to him. But it was too late to do anything for him. For now, anyway.
“Balan, I shall make my presence known to the children now,” the figure whispered to the Horse. The figure walked on towards the Dam, but was stopped as Balan bit its sleeve.
“I don’t like it when you go somewhere I can’t help you.” he said seriously in a low baritone. The figure chuckled at this.
“No harm will come to me,” said the figure, patting Balan’s head fondly. “We are among friends. The Beavers are sworn to Aslan.”
“Aslan ordered me to take care of you,” the Horse said, disgruntled.
“I know that,” said the figure, “but I can take care of myself.” She walked up to the low door and knocked
“Who’s that?” The Beaver asked, his voice a miserable attempt at his usual jovial tone.
“I am the Watcher,” said the figure. “Aslan has sent me here.”
*~*~*
“Come in! Come in!” said the Beaver as he opened the door to reveal a rather tall, hooded figure. The newcomer stepped inside and drew back the hood to reveal a young woman.
Susan gasped and Lucy gaped in surprise. She – the newcomer – was the first woman they’d seen in Narnia. And Peter certainly thought she was beautiful. She had her long, raven locks tied back in a loose ponytail and her slender form was accentuated by the black suit she was wearing under her gray cloak. She appeared to be about around the age of 16 or 17. But then that was impossible. What was a young woman doing outside on a night like this? Suddenly, the young woman looked at him in the eye. Her eyes had such a dark shade of green, they were almost black.
“I have been watching over you since the little one first set foot in Narnia,” said the young woman, motioning at Lucy.
If he was startled before, he was even more so now. “You’ve been watching us?” Evidently, this woman could not only take care of herself. She was a dangerous enemy as well. He had to be on his guard.
“Indeed,” said the woman. “It is my duty and my honor to serve as your guardian and champion as you deliver the land from the clutches of the false Queen Jadis.”
“We’re not going to fight any witch,” said Susan, sounding quite annoyed. “We should really be getting home.” The three siblings stood up from their seats and turned around for Edmund.
He wasn’t there.
Peter took a deep breath and tried to control his frustration against his brother. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“You may not have to,” said the Beaver worriedly. “Has Edmund ever been to Narnia before?”
*~*~*
And so Peter, Susan, Lucy, and their Narnian companions found themselves trudging up the hills several minutes later. Peter knew with a sinking heart that they might be too late to catch up with Edmund, but at least they would know where he was headed. As if they didn’t know already. The White Witch’s castle looked like a little ice palace on a frozen lake – it probably was. Peter could barely make his brother against the castle walls. He watched in despair as his brother entered the castle.
“Edmund!” Lucy screamed.
“Shh, they’ll hear,” said the Beaver.
On a sudden surge of bravery, Peter started to run towards the castle. Before he’d gone a few steps, however, the Beaver caught the sleeve of his coat and pulled him back.
“Get off me!” Peter cried, trying to pull away. The Beaver was surprisingly strong for an animal so little.
“You’re playing into her hands!”
“We can’t just let him go!” Susan said.
“He’s our brother!” Lucy chimed in.
“He is the bait,” said the young woman, speaking for the first time since they left the dam. “The false queen wants all four of you."
“Why?” asked Peter
“To stop the prophecy from coming true,” said the Beaver, a touch of hysteria in his voice. “To kill you!”
The three remaining siblings looked at each other in horror.
“This is all your fault,” Susan said accusingly to Peter.
“My fault?” Why, in heaven’s name, was Susan blaming him now?
“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just listened to me in the first place!”
“Oh so you knew this would’ve happened.”
“I didn’t know what would happen,” Susan admitted, faltering a bit. “Which
was why we should’ve left while we still could!”
“Stop it!” Everyone looked at Lucy, surprised at her outburst.
“This isn’t going to help Edmund,” she continued in a more gentle voice.
“She is right,” said the woman. “Only Aslan can help your brother now.”
Peter felt a lump form on his throat. He wanted to sit there and bawl himself out, but he knew he couldn’t. “Then take us to him.”
And then everyone heard the wolves’ howling. Peter felt his hairs rise up with fright.
“Let’s get moving!” said the Beaver, leading the run back to the Dam.
Beaver burst through the front door. “Hurry momma, they are after us!” he yelled at Mrs. Beaver.
“Oh,” said the She-beaver as she began gathering food. “Right then.”
Peter stared in amazement. “What’s she doing?”
“You’ll be thanking me later,” Mrs. Beaver said. “It’s a long journey and Beaver gets pretty cranky when he's hungary.”
“I’m cranky now!” the Beaver yelled in frustration.
“We should hasten,” said the watcher. “The Witch’s hounds are just over the ridge!”
“Do you think we’ll need jam?” Susan asked as she helped Mrs. Beaver pack food
“Only if the Witch serves toast,” said Peter in a lame attempt at a joke. Susan glared at him.
“We must go!” said the watcher, urging them on.
“Badger and I made this tunnel,” said the Beaver as they ran through the tunnel, the humans hunched in the tiny space.
“You told me it leads to your Mum’s,” his wife said accusingly.
Lucy tripped over a root and fell. Peter turn around. Susan stopped next to Lucy. “Lucy?”
The watcher stood behind them. They heard the wolves. The watcher looked at the Beavers. “They are here.”
Susan helped Lucy up and they ran on and on until they reached a dead end.
“You should’ve brought a map!” said the She-beaver to her husband, practically wringing her paws.
“There wasn’t any room next to the jam!” The Beaver turned to another tunnel and the rest followed suit. There was an opening there, and the Beavers and their human companions hurriedly climbed out and barricaded the opening with a barrel. They all turned around to survey their surroundings.
Peter gaped in shock. “What happened here?”
*~*~*
I know it's just like the movie, so bare with me people. it's gets better as the story process, or at least i think so.
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