A/N: It's the moment you've all been waiting for... or maybe dreading... Ramandu's Island!
Edit: Hello everyone! If you're revisiting this story after a while, you may notice a few minor changes in this chapter. I was never really happy with the interaction with Lilliandil, and I feel that I let reader interaction push that scene in a direction I never intended or wanted for it to go. My plan was always to have Edmund focus on Lilliandil, and for Caspian to have no reaction to her at all. But in the process of writing and speaking with readers, this moment got hyped up into something bigger, which I went with against my instincts. Now, I have done my best to rewrite the scene as close to my original intentions as possible. Thanks for reading!
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They followed the Blue Star with renewed hope. And for two days, all was well. By the dawn of the third day, their troubles returned tenfold.
The wind had left them, halting their progress and stranding them out upon the open sea. The men set to work at the oars, rowing to move the ship by hand, leaving them exhausted by dusk. As such, the Dawn Treader made no progress at night, the precious dark hours needed for the crew to rest.
Three more days passed in this manner.
"We can't continue on this way," said Edmund. He, Drinian, Margaret, and Caspian stood upon the deck, discussing their next course of action while staring up above at the listless sails. "The men won't last at this pace, and neither will the rations."
Drinian looked to Margaret.
"Have the stars given you any word, Your Majesty? Any notion of when we might reach Ramandu's Island?"
She shook her head. "No exact estimate, I'm afraid, Captain. But we're close, I know that. We mustn't give up hope."
"As much as I agree with your sentiment, Margaret," Caspian said, "We've no wind in our sails. How are we to reach the island?"
For a moment, she didn't answer him, her gaze scanning the deck, then wandering out onto the endless, watery horizon.
"With things the way they are," she said at last, "I would say that something doesn't want us anywhere near that island."
Drinian studied the three of them intently, then spoke.
"We'll go on as long as we're able," he said. "May the Lion save us..." With his piece said, he wandered away from them to take his place at the helm.
The other three exchanged glances. Caspian, especially, watched the two siblings.
"I'm going to study the maps again," he said. "There isn't much else I can do."
He nodded to Margaret and Edmund, and left them together.
"Come on," said Edmund, draping an arm around her shoulders, "Let's get you below deck. You've been out in the sun far too long. Have you had any water at all today?"
Margaret let herself be ushered below decks.
"You know he's giving us some time together," she said, ignoring her brother's question. "Caspian, I mean. I did talk to him, but I think he still feels the weight of some of the things you said at the pool."
"I know what he's doing," said Edmund, sitting her down upon a crate. "Now, have you had any water today?"
"It's rationed," she replied, again avoiding a direct answer. At his stern look, she sighed. "No... but the crew needs it more than I do. They're working hard down there."
"That doesn't mean you can just go without it entirely," Edmund said firmly.
It reminded her of the Golden Age, of how he would try so hard to take care of her, despite how close they were in age. Less so than Peter of course, but he cared for her nonetheless.
"Will you stop being so protective, Ed? We're practically twins for Aslan's sake!"
"Yes, but I have a beginning-of-year winter birthday and you have a late summer birthday, so I'm really quite a few months older..."
"Yes, but I left our world in the early summer and you left our world in the end-of-year winter, so ha! As I said, twins."
Indeed, that did used to be quite the source of playful argument between them.
But here in this moment, she didn't feel like arguing. Perhaps it was a matter of a lack of water, but she let him worry over her.
To make him feel better, she told herself.
But perhaps, in the back of her mind, she knew it was really for the comfort of them both.
"Here."
He pressed a small cup into her hands, a little bit of water in it. Rationed, but still probably a little extra.
She sipped it slowly.
"Have you told Lucy yet?" he asked, after a long silence.
The water in the cup was not yet half gone. Margaret stared into it, thinking deeply, as she watched how the dim light reflected within.
"No," she admitted at last. "For the most part, only because I don't know how to. With you, it seemed easy. I've always been able to tell you anything."
He nodded seriously, but then s mischievous look spread over his face. "Like how you fancied that merchant from Anvard?"
Margaret spluttered indignantly, grateful she had finished the water by then, or she might have choked.
"Why you--"
"And I never told a soul," he said quickly, grinning.
She gave him a scowl in return, but couldn't hold it long.
"Yes, well... anyways..." She sighed. "Lucy is understanding and kind. But we're about to face Lion-knows-what, here at the End of the World... I don't want this to weigh on her. It might be best to wait."
Edmund sighed. "I think you should tell her sooner rather than later.... But I'll trust your judgement."
"Thank you." Margaret moved to put the water away. The very moment she had secured everything, the ship lurched as if they'd just run aground, or perhaps had been struck by something.
Edmund and Margaret exchanged a glance, then simultaneously rushed up onto the deck together.
"What did we hit?" Caspian was calling to the crew when the two arrived up top.
Edmund looked around, alert for any danger, but then seemed to relax.
"Eustace, that's brilliant!"
Everyone on deck followed his gaze.
The boy had wrapped his dragon tail around the figurehead and was towing them along behind himself as he flew.
Now, their speed was double, triple, perhaps, the speed they would have with only the wind for aid. Things might not remain so grim after all...
-
They reached Ramandu's Island by that very dusk. It was quite beautiful; a sight for sore eyes indeed. Lush greenery spread across the whole of it, and rocky cliffsides abounded with brilliant, glistening waterfalls.
It reminded Margaret somewhat of Cair Paravel, and how she had felt upon first seeing it all those years ago.
By the time the landing party had reached the shore, night had fallen. They found a pathway which led them up from the beach, towards the heart of the island, and all the stars were visible through the treetops as they went. The path soon turned from dirt and grass to ancient stone, passing over bridges and under archways as it led them up, up and in. The rush of small waterfalls and the calling of birds of night accompanied them. Statues of ancient creatures surrounded them.
The others walked with weapons at the ready, but Margaret's remained sheathed. She sensed no danger here, but only an ancient Deep Magic. Not like the magic at the pool, for that had felt jarring and alarming, but rather more like the magic of the Stone Table as it had felt in that very moment when Death itself had reversed, first for the Great Lion, and then for herself.
No, this was nothing dark. This Magic was as old as Time, as old as Narnia itself, and the laws which had been carved in stone by the Emperor Across the Sea. Something here was powerful beyond measure, and Margaret knew Aslan's country was close at hand, for such ancient Magic to be held here on this island.
At last, they came to an archway under a tree, beyond which lay a table, laid out with a feast upon it.
The crew murmured amongst themselves, all of them hungry beyond measure from the lack of rations.
"Food..." murmured Tavros.
"Wait," Drinian commanded, looking to the Kings and Queens.
Margaret ignored the food, for something else had caught her eye. At the furthest end of the table, a thicket of brambles lay, something tangled within. She motioned to Edmund, who followed with his torch in hand.
Edmund recoiled sharply when he saw what lay there. Lucy gasped, and Caspian and the other crew members raised their swords when they too realized.
Three men, still and silent, sat amongst the thicket. Margaret gestured calmly to the others and leaned closer.
"Margaret..." Caspian said warningly.
"It's alright, Caspian," she replied quietly. "They aren't moving. They seem to be frozen... The magic upon this Table is strong."
He seemed to relax at her assurances, moving close on the other side of the Table to investigate for himself.
"Lord Revilian," he realized, staring at a ring upon one of the man's fingers. It bore the crest of one of the Lords. He found the crests of the others as well. "Lord Marvramorn... and Lord Argoz."
Lucy came around to the other side of one of the men, slipping through the brambles. She reached out to touch him, then suddenly gasped, jerking back as if she'd been burned.
"He's breathing!" she exclaimed.
Caspian, Edmund, and Margaret leaned closer, and surely enough, the breath of the men still stirred the air, though their eyes remained open and glassy, their bodies unmoving.
"They're... they're alive," said Caspian in disbelief.
Edmund studied the Lords in concern. "They're under a spell..."
"It's the food!" said Caspian suddenly.
Tavros, who had an apple at the ready, just about to take a bite, dropped the fruit in shock.
"No, it can't be," said Margaret, and the crew looked to her in askance. "This place has no darkness to it... The Magic here is more akin to Aslan's kind. There must be some other explanation..."
"Aslan's magic?" Edmund asked. "Then this must be the Aslan's Table, just as Coriakin said."
"Their swords!" Caspian said.
He, Lucy, and Margaret quickly collected the blades from each of the sleeping Lords and placed them upon the Table. Edmund added his own as well, and the crew brought to them the others which had been obtained.
"We're still missing one..." Margaret said.
As the three of them stared at the swords, wondering how to find the last, the starlight which reflected in the blades began to glow brighter. Looking up for the source, they could see a star descending from the heavens.
Caspian reached for his blade once more, but Margaret put a hand out to him in a placating gesture.
"It's alright... She's one of my subjects. There is no need for alarm."
Even as she spoke, her heart pounded in her ears. She only hoped that Caspian could not see the worry in her eyes.
The star gracefully touched the ground, and the brilliant light dimmed into the form that looked rather human, but the light that emanated from her very being set her apart as a Star.
She smiled at them all.
"Travelers of Narnia..." Her gaze fell upon Margaret and she curtsied low, nearly kneeling, before rising again. "My Lady... All of you, welcome."
The crew all knelt before her. Tavros offered the lowest bow that he could. Margaret remained standing, offering a kind smile.
"Hello, Lilliandil," she said. "You have led us well."
Lilliandil seemed to glow a bit brighter at that. She opened her arms to the others, gracefully.
"Arise," she said gently, and the crew obeyed. She looked upon them, her face written with a delicate confusion.
"Are you not hungry?" she asked them.
"Who are you?" Edmund asked in return.
Margaret noticed he was staring at her.
"I am your guide," she replied.
"My friends," Margaret said, addressing everyone. "You are in the presence of the Blue Star who guided us here. A faithful servant of Aslan, as we all are."
"Yes, My Lady," said Lilliandil. "I am who you say I am. Ramandu is my father, and this is his island. I watch over it whilst he takes rest."
"You're a Star?" Caspian asked as the four rulers drew closer. The adoration in his voice made Margaret feel ill.
Lilliandil nodded.
"You are most beautiful," said a voice, but it was not Caspian's.
Edmund turned a shade of pink as all eyes turned to him.
Margaret couldn't hide her surprise.
Lilliandil seemed surprised, looking to Margaret with an unreadable expression.
"I-If it is a distraction for you," she offered, "I could change form..."
"No!"
"There is no need for that..."
Edmund and Caspian both spoke at once. Edmund, a little more quickly, though he shot a look at Caspian, a mix of embarrassment on his own part, and curiosity as to Caspian's intentions.
"That won't be necessary," Caspian repeated himself. "I'm certain Edmund can concentrate quite sufficiently." Margaret's surprise continued. It was as if the Star had no effect on him whatsoever. He tilted his head, his face merely neutral wonderment. "I have never met a Star before," he said. "All that I know, I have heard from Margaret..."
Margaret suddenly felt him take her hand. She continued to watch him, though her heart pounded. All this time he hadn't seemed enchanted the way Edmund had...
"Aslan has charged the Resilient Queen with the care of truly wonderful people." Though his words were addressed to Lilliandil, he kept his attention fixed on Margaret, his voice gentle and reassuring. "You, and the other Stars as well, I am certain, are graceful and beautiful in the way that He has made you all... Just as Margaret, your Lady, is strong and beautiful and wise."
Her face felt as though it were on fire. Surely she had turned some shade of red or pink, even in the pale wash of Lilliandil's light.
Edmund cleared his throat, breaking the silence, and turned to Lilliandil, bowing his head respectfully.
"Please forgive me, I spoke out of turn. I meant merely to compliment you, but I fear that I have insulted you for implying any distraction."
Lilliandil's smile seemed to brighten once more, now that she no longer feared her natural form was frowned upon, or that it was she who was upsetting the Queen.
Margaret didn't know what to think. For a moment, upon seeing Lilliandil, she'd feared this was the moment she would lose Caspian. But then to see how unaffected he was by her beauty, to see his excitement at meeting a Star, a new Narnian race... She remembered when they had first met, how eager he had been to learn all that he could about each race of Narnians. He had been similarly impressed by the beauty of the Dryads and the grace of the Centaurs.
For a moment, she felt ashamed, for thinking he might truly go back on his word to her, the promises he had made to reassure her doubts. A hot feeling flushed through her at having so little faith in him. For as always, he had stayed true.
But, she wondered what might happen going forward. Perhaps he merely admired Lilliandil as a Star for now, but what should happen if Margaret were to leave Narnia forever? He was ever loyal to her, but when she at last had to leave... Would he perhaps come to see the Star as more?
His heart belonged to Margaret now, but who would it be given to when she had gone?
And yet... Something about this place gave her peace. Perhaps this place, brimming with Aslan's Magic, reassured her spirit. Though she couldn't put her finger on it, Margaret couldn't help but feel that there was something she had missed. A simple solution which she simply could not see...
With a start, she realized Lilliandil had been speaking, the candles on the table now alight with magic.
"These poor men were half mad by the time they reached our shores," she was explaining. "They were threatening violence upon each other... Violence is not permitted at Aslan's Table, and so... they were sent to sleep."
"Will they ever wake?" Lucy asked.
Lilliandil nodded. "When all is put right." Her face grew more serious. "Come, there is little time."
She turned and led the four Kings and Queen away as the crew settled in and began to eat. They followed her along a small, dirt path, to a stone balcony upon one of the cliffsides.
All the way there, Caspian kept ahold of Margaret's hand.
"The Magician Coriakin told you of Dark Island?" Lilliandil asked.
"Yes," said Margaret, "The source of the Mist."
There, further to the East, but only a short distance from Ramandu's Island, they saw it. Like a living cloud of black smoke, it hung upon the water like a blight. It seemed to absorb any faint starlight into itself, like a void of Dark Magic.
Margaret couldn't hide a shiver. She could feel the coldness of that Magic from here. It was not at all like the warmth of Aslan's power which surrounded them here.
"Before long, the evil will spread further. This place will remain safe, sanctified by Aslan's power, but the lands further West of here will become overrun in time."
"We've brought the seven swords of old," said Caspian. "The ones that were in our possession, that is. We still lack the final one."
"Do you know where the seventh is?" Edmund asked.
Lilliandil gave the four a grave look and turned towards the Dark Island.
"You shall find what you seek... in there. You will need great courage, Your Majesties. Now, waste no time. Rest here, and as quickly as you are able, you must complete this task that has been given to you."
Edmund hesitated.
"I hope we meet again," he said.
Lilliandil gave him a small smile, one that almost seemed to be shy.
"Goodbye..." she said.
With that, her form began to ripple with wisps of Star light, and her form turned to pure light. She rose to take her spot as the Blue Star once more.
Caspian looked to the other three.
"We should join the crew. Feast at the Table tonight, and at dawn... we face this darkness."
Edmund and Lucy nodded, and turned to head back to the Table. As Margaret moved to follow, she felt Caspian's hand at hers, gently stopping her.
"You are the one who holds my heart, Margaret," he said solemnly. "I shall hold to this word until I die."
He released her hand and moved past her to follow Edmund and Lucy, leaving her with many spinning thoughts.
"Aslan," she whispered softly, staring at the Dark Island. "I do not know what Fate you have planned for me, but I can only pray that it is one that keeps me at his side."
The compass at her side grew warm, and she pulled it from her belt.
When she opened it, it did not direct her towards Dark Island, as she had thought, but rather... the needle pointed down the pathway, to where Caspian had gone.
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A/N: As always, be sure to let me know what you thought! I love hearing from everyone! Polite suggestions and all questions welcome!