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Once upon a time, there were four children, named Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy. They were sent away from the war and Lucy found a remarkable wardrobe where she met a strange creature calling himself a faun, who took her back to his cave for tea and a magical sleep. And this much of the story you already know.
* * *
When Lucy woke, she felt horribly confused. This wasn’t her familiar bedroom at home, nor even the strange high bed with its scratchy sheets at the Professor’s house. She blinked a little in the odd light filtering into the room as memory of meeting queer Mr. Tumnus in the woods through the wardrobe slowly returned. But this wasn’t his snug little cave either, surely.
“Ah, you’re awake,” a brisk, deep feminine voice said, and Lucy turned her head to see the tallest woman she had ever met sweeping into the room.
“Who are you?” Lucy said, and then, feeling as if she’d been a bit rude, added, “please, and where am I?”
The woman smiled, and sat down at a chair by the bedside, which was a relief as it meant Lucy no longer had to crane her neck to look up. “I am the Queen of Narnia, and this is my castle,” she said. “And you are… Lucy?” Lucy nodded, uncertainly. “You must be terribly confused. The faun should have brought you straight here, but I’m afraid fauns are nervous, hesitant creatures. He thought you would refuse to come.”
Lucy opened her mouth to ask another question but only coughed as her throat caught.
“Oh dear,” said the queen, “how rude of me. The sleep you’ve had dries the mouth; you must be so thirsty. Here.” And she leaned forward, taking a small vial from her pocket and dripping its contents onto the bed, whereupon a lovely frosted goblet sprang up. The queen handed it to Lucy, who took it and sipped tentatively. The contents turned out to be lovely cool, clear water, with a hint of something fresh like the scent of pine needles, and Lucy found herself drinking deeply, suddenly aware of just how thirsty she in fact was.
“Thank you,” she said, when the goblet was empty. Hesitantly, she tacked on “… your majesty?”
“Such a polite child,” the queen said. “Perhaps you will answer some questions for me? There has not been a human in Narnia for many, many years.”
Lucy looked at the queen, who aside from the height seemed quite human, and wondered, but couldn’t quite think of a polite way to ask. “What do you want to know? Your majesty.”
“Many things, but I confess I am most curious about how you came to be here at all.”
“Oh,” said Lucy, “that was such a strange thing! I was hiding the wardrobe, and it went ever so deep, and then suddenly I felt pine branches and I was in the woods! And then I found the lamppost in the woods — how does it work there, all alone like that? — and I met Mr. Tumnus.”
The queen’s eyes lit up. “You have seen something like the lamppost before, then? Is it common in your home?”
“Yes,” Lucy answered, “at least in the cities, I suppose.”
“Then I think you must be what we have been waiting for,” the queen said. She leaned forward a little, watching Lucy quite intensely. “You see, the lamppost was brought here by magic long, long ago. And when it came through, so did some humans, and they lived here in Narnia for many years. But all the humans died many years ago; none have been seen in Narnia for a hundred years.”
Then Lucy’s curiosity got the better of her, and she stumbled over her words. “I - I don’t mean to be rude — your majesty — but you, that is --”
“Am I human, do you mean?” The queen smiled. “It is possible your people and mine are related very far back, I suppose. But I came here from another world than yours. My people are taller, as you can see, and stronger, and we live much, much longer. I myself have been queen here in Narnia… oh, I suppose back to the time your great-great grandfather was a child.”
“Oh,” Lucy said, uncertain for a moment. “You look much younger.”
The queen laughed, a polite chuckle. “You are very kind, dear one.” Then she grew sober. “It isn’t always a good thing to live so long. I am tired, and I wish that I could rest, but there is no one I could trust to care for and protect Narnia the way I do.” She studied Lucy carefully. “That is why I asked my subjects to watch for humans, you see.”
Lucy did not see, and made some questioning noise, not quite sure how to ask.
“Ah, but of course you wouldn’t know,” said the queen. “There has long been a story here in Narnia that someday, four humans would come and become the truest protectors of Narnia. And here you are at last, the first human in a hundred years! If only we can set a watch where you came in, perhaps we shall find more humans. And then I could be sure Narnia would be safe.”
“C-could my family come?” Lucy said, her ears catching on the word ‘four.’
“Your family? Your… parents, then?”
“My father’s gone to fight a war,” Lucy said rather sadly, “and mother sent us away to be safe. But my brothers and sister would come, I know they would!”
“Brothers and sister? There are four of you, then?” And when Lucy nodded, the queen leaned even closer, eagerly. “Would you do that, dear one? Would they all, do you think? Take care of Narnia for me?”
“Oh, yes,” Lucy cried, “of course we would help!”
“And would they come here, if you asked them to?” Lucy nodded eagerly. “Then I shall trust you to bring them here.” The queen took her hands, squeezing almost too hard. “I will trust you and, when you are all here, I will teach you all you need to know to take care of Narnia.”
“We will,” Lucy promised, “we will, your majesty.”
* * *
The queen had taken her back to the lamppost in a beautiful sleigh drawn by reindeer, just like Father Christmas would have. It was cold with the wind rushing past, but the queen had wrapped her in a lovely warm fur, which Lucy couldn’t resist stroking from time to time just to feel the softness.
“Return soon, dear Lucy,” the queen bade when they reached the lamp and Lucy had to continue the rest of the way on foot. “We have been waiting so long for you.”
“I promise,” Lucy said, and hurried back toward the wardrobe. It had been so long, surely the others would be worried and searching for her.
The fur coats were there, hanging just past the tree branches with no sign of support, and as Lucy pushed towards them, the wintery daylight vanished and the dark of the wardrobe closed in around her. Then with a thump! she stumbled out of the door and landed on the floor of the spare room. “I’m back!” she cried, hopping to her feet, “Peter, Susan, Edmund, I’m back! I’m here!”
* * *
The wardrobe was solid. Lucy stared at the wooden back in utter betrayal. Now her siblings didn’t believe her, and the slightly pitying looks were infuriating. There had to be some way back. There just had to be.
* * *
Lying in the tall, scratchy bed, Lucy tossed restlessly, thinking of Narnia and the queen with a queer crawling feeling in her stomach that would not let her sleep. At last, she threw back the covers and shoved her feet into boots, snatching up her robe even as she tiptoed past Susan’s sleeping form.
The wardrobe loomed larger than itself in the empty room, and for a moment in the uncertain light all the carvings seemed to move, the great tree that spread across the doors almost rustling in a non-existent wind. Lucy plucked up her courage and tugged the door open. Immediately, a brush of cold, crisp air blew into her face, carrying the bright scent of pine, and happily Lucy ran forward into the embrace of the furs and the winter beyond.
There was a wolf lying at the edge of the light cast by the lamppost. Lucy stumbled to a stop, wondering if she might make it back to the wardrobe before the beast was on her. But it lifted its head and studied her for a moment, then shook snow from its back. “Lucy, is it?”
“You talk?!” she exclaimed, too fascinated to be frightened any longer. She stepped forward even as the wolf walked toward her. It was nearly as large as she, herself, was, and its tail swept patterns into the snow.
“Of course,” the wolf said. “Don’t people talk where you’re from?”
“Not wolves,” Lucy said. “Or most animals, really.”
“Huh. Always heard foreign lands were funny that way.” The wolf looked past her, into the trees. “Aren’t there supposed to be more of you? Her majesty has us on watch so you don’t get lost.”
“Oh!” Lucy clasped her hands happily. “That’s so kind! And I’m sorry you’re sitting out in the snow all the time.”
That looked very like a wolf shrug, if wolves could shrug. “No trouble. That’s what the fur is for. And if her majesty asks…” He — Lucy was fairly certain by now that it was a he — looked past her again.
“I tried,” Lucy said apologetically, “but we couldn’t get through. It was just an ordinary wardrobe with no passage. I’m not giving up!” she added quickly, “but, well, now they don’t believe me, so it might be harder.” She glanced back at the path through the trees herself. “Do you think it only opens at certain times?”
“Magic isn’t my job,” the wolf said. “Anything’s possible, I suppose.”
“I’ll keep trying,” Lucy promised. “Will you please tell her majesty I’m sorry for the wait?”
“Of course,” the wolf said. “If it’s open now, are you going to try?”
Lucy considered. “I can try,” she answered, “but it’s the middle of the night at home — everyone’s asleep. I don’t think they’ll be happy to walk into the wardrobe if I wake them up.”
“Carry them,” suggested the wolf. “That’s what you humans have hands for, isn’t it?”
An image of herself carrying Peter bridal-style popped into Lucy’s head, with his long limbs dragging on the floor and herself almost invisible behind his bulk, and she giggled helplessly. “I’m too small, I’m afraid,” she explained to the wolf. “Peter is…” Stretching up on tiptoe, she held her hand at something approximating her brother’s height.
“Ah, well.” Another wolf-shrug. “Good luck, then. Hurry back!”
“I will! I’ll be back soon, I promise!” Lucy pushed some of the pine branches out of the way and stumbled back toward the wardrobe.
The fur coats were still there, hanging in air, but now a small, pale hand was also visible against them, and Lucy blinked. Edmund’s head poked round the coats, his eyes wide and staring. “Oh, Edmund!” Lucy cried, running forward. “You’ve got in too!”
“What— what is this?” Edmund stammered, touching a branch as if expecting it to melt under his hand.
“It’s Narnia, like I told you!” She caught his hand and tugged a little. “Oh, oh, come meet the queen, Edmund, she’s so lovely. There’s a wolf over there that can show us the way, I’m sure.”
“A wolf!” Edmund cried, stepping back. “What sort of place is this? It sounds dangerous, Lu!”
“No, a nice wolf,” Lucy tried to explain, but Edmund kept backing up. She tightened her grip. “Wait, Edmund. You have to stay; they need us!”
Edmund shook his head. “It’s freezing, I’m not staying here in my robe. Come on!”
A flash of anger shook her, and her hand tightened further around his, her small nails digging into his skin. “You have to!”
“Lucy, stop it!” He tugged again, and they both overbalanced and ended up on the floor of the wardrobe.
Lucy twisted around, desperate, but the snow and the trees and the way back was gone again, leaving just the wardrobe’s wooden back. “Oh!” she cried in frustration, pounding a fist against the wood. “Not again!”
“Come back to bed, Lu,” Edmund said, picking himself up. “I don’t think this thing is safe.”
She turned to glare at him, and found him staring at her with the strangest expression. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and he swallowed, even as he stepped backwards toward the door. “Well, I’m going back to bed anyway,” he declared, but he backed all the way out, never taking his eyes off her until the door of the spare room closed between them.
* * *
“Peter, please,” Lucy added a bit of a pout to the words, aware that her older brother was weak to it. “It’s real, I promise! Even Edmund saw it!”
Peter and Susan both looked at Edmund at this, and he looked terribly awkward under their curious gazes. “You… saw this Narnia?” Peter asked.
“I…” Edmund glanced between all of his siblings, nervousness increasing. “I was just… playing along.” He smiled half-heartedly. “Humoring her. I’m sorry, Peter, I guess I shouldn’t have encouraged her…”
“You—!” Lucy stamped her foot. “You liar!” She started towards him, feeling her hands clench into fists, but Peter’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, swiftly redirecting her.
“Just ignore him,” Peter said, and she was certain the look he shot Edmund over her head was angry. “Let’s go outside while it’s still sunny.” Susan joined them, and sandwiched between her oldest siblings, Lucy had little option but to go along. At least Edmund was left alone, ignored. Served him right.
* * *
“—something wrong!” Edmund’s voice was hissed, furtive, and Lucy paused in the hall, safely out of sight, listening hard. “Peter, please. She changed, can’t you see it?”
“Ed, that’s enough.” Peter: sharp, angry. Tired. “Isn’t everything hard enough without you picking on her? Just leave her alone.”
“I’m not picking on her, I’m worried about her!”
“I said that’s enough,” Peter snapped. “Let it be.”
* * *
A ball through a window. A race inside to see the damage. Lucy, small and quick, took the stairs more swiftly than even long-legged Peter could manage and found the room first. The ball lay innocent in the middle of the floor, the broken window condemning but only minor damage. All around, though, were “historical artifacts” left mercifully untouched.
It only took a moment to nudge a stand, topple a display, and when her panting siblings arrived, the ball lay in the center of a wreckage that would surely bring down the Macready’s wrath on them all. And there, on cue, were the sharp footsteps echoing down the corridors.
The scramble through the house was mad, but luck seemed to be with her; they were only being driven steadily toward the spare room. As Peter tried door after door and found them locked, Lucy ducked under his arm, skipped ahead, and nudged the spare room open with a touch.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Peter said, shaking his head.
“No,” Edmund chimed in, grasping Peter’s elbow and tugging the other way. But there were the Macready’s footsteps gaining on them, and Susan stepped toward Lucy, followed by Peter, leaving Edmund in the hall with his hand still outstretched. “Wait--” but the others were already inside. Lucy scrambled to open the wardrobe, already feeling the chill from beyond. It was open, it must be open, and she heard Edmund a beat behind them even as she took Peter’s hand to plunge into the darkness and towards Narnia beyond.
We’re coming, your majesty!