Most nights, I hardly sleep
Don't take what you don't need from me
Just a drop in the ocean
A change in the weather
- A Drop In the Ocean, Ron Pope
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𝚂𝙸𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙴 things are the key. That was the truth, in James' eyes. It is the simple things that are the key to goodness in life.
Since he was young, James Pevensie was glad to be surrounded by simplicity. It wasn't that he was unable to have more sophisticated objects, which would've made the boys at Hendon House like him more, because if he had wanted it, he could've had it. James just didn't want them. Instead, he was glad to have wooden trains, packs of cards, and as many books as he was allowed. That was what made him happy.
To James, simple meant happiness. That was enough.
There was a moment, just after Father Christmas had left, where the eldest Pevensie was left speechless. It was when he was this way, bliss spread throughout him. His new weapon was clutched in his right hand as well as his gifted leather belt. It was the other present that Father Christmas had given him, but he wore it without the axe in hold- around his waist so that he could still grasp the weapon, just in case.
He didn't want to let it out of his sight yet. If he did the moment would be over. However, as soon as Peter's voice sounded, he was brought back.
The reality was harsh.
"He said winter was almost over." James' blonde brother pondered, and suddenly, it felt as if concrete had been poured onto his chest. "You know what that means."
With a breathless sigh, James replied. "No more ice."
At that, the group ran towards the edge of the cliff: it was the easiest way down to the frozen lake. However, now it wasn't so frozen anymore. They witnessed the azure water shimmering in the golden daylight, breaking through ice that was still covered in a thick layer of snow. A waterfall had frozen in place for a hundred years. How long would it be that way for now?
"We need to cross, now!" Peter hurried them.
"Don't beavers make dams?" Asked Lucy, confused.
Mr Beaver replied swiftly. "I'm not that fast, dear."
"Come on!" James grabbed onto Peter, pulling along him. His brother, for once, was right. They needed to cross, quickly, otherwise they might not make it to Aslan's camp.
"Will you think about this for a minute?" Susan paused the other Pevensie's from moving along the snowy rocks.
"We don't have a minute." The blue eyed brother stated.
"I'm just trying to be realistic."
"No, you're trying to be smart. As usual."
"There's nothing wrong with being smart." James mentioned to the eldest girl. "But there is a time. This, is not it. We have to keep moving."
The siblings, and beavers, began to walk away slowly when they heard it. The cry of a wolf. A howl, signalling something to its pack, loud and clear.
They'd been found.
The climbing from rock to rock was difficult. The slope James lead his siblings down was slippery, and his feet danced along the black ice. His hands ached due to the rough sedimentary stone. That meant landing on the frozen, snow covered, ice was a blessing: he wouldn't slip any more. Though, as soon as he saw the cracks edging closer towards them, it was no longer.
Tentatively, the blonde stuck his foot out, pressing his weight delicately to the petrified water when it snapped. James pulled himself back, he didn't want to fall.
"Wait. Maybe I should go first." Mr Beaver offered, to which Peter replied as he put a hand to his older brothers shoulder.
"Maybe you should."
So, Mr Beaver waddled along the ice, patting down his tail to detect weak spots. It was a fine technique, one that James wished he could use for himself. When the first crack appeared, the male beaver did not falter, however, Mrs Beaver called. "You've been sneaking second helpings, haven't you?"
"Well, you never know which meals gonna be our last. Especially with your cooking."
The eldest Pevensie was ignoring the conversation occurring. It was unimportant.
What was more so?
His footing as he followed Mr Beaver across the ice. His stance was awkward and wrong: James could feel it. Every movement seemed shaky, unwilling, but dutiful all the same. If any one of the siblings had to go first, it would be him. If it meant his brothers and sisters were safe, happily he would lead the way.
Along the cracking floor they travelled, unaware of what would happen next. A few whimpers escaped the lips of the children on their way. James had placed himself firmly at the front, unaware of what was going on behind him as his gaze was fixated straight ahead. Despite this, he did turn once when Lucy let out a scream, and saw her clutching Peter's arm in fear. Some snow and ice had fallen from the waterfall- but she was alright.
"If Mum knew what we were doing..." Susan trailed.
"Mum's not here." Peter protested.
"I'm not planning on telling her," James said. "If no one ever tells her, she won't ever find out."
"Oh no!" Cried Lucy as she looked up. There, she watched as a few wolves ran along the edge of the frozen waterfall. They really had been found.
"Run!" Called Peter.
"What did I say about telling me to run?" James shouted back, a combination of afraid and angry.
There was no answer, as the next voice to call out belonged to Susan. "Hurry!"
Lucy screamed again.
The wolves jumped. They scaled the cliff until they landed in front of the group: two of them snarling. At that, the children turned to step backwards, but were met by a couple of barriers. One was another small group of wolves, and the second, was ice breaking away beneath them. Water gushed upwards, spraying them a fraction.
"No!" Cried Mrs Beaver as Mr Beaver was captured by a wolf. His life was now on the line. Another reason for James to feel guilty. First Edmund, now Mr Beaver.
"James." Lucy whimpered. The blonde boy grasped his axe tighter. He could use it. If he needed to, he could. And he would.
"Put that down, boy." Said one wolf, presumably the leader. "Someone could get hurt."
"Don't worry about me!" Called Mr Beaver as he was pinned down by a wolf, who's nose sniffed the fluffy brown creature. "Run him though!"
From the corner of his eye, James was aware of Peter unsheathing his sword, and pointing it out in front of him. "Leave now while you can, and your brother leaves with you."
There was a chance. There was a chance to get Edmund back. Was it worth it?
"Stop. James! Peter! Maybe we should listen to him!" Susan tried to bargain with her brothers.
Though the offer seemed tempting, James couldn't help but move his hand closer to the blade. The wolf wasn't trustworthy. "Smart girl." He smirked, widely.
"Yeah, she is," Replied James, refusing to let his voice trembling. He was in charge. "Which is why we're staying away from you."
"Don't listen to him!" Mr Beaver called again. "Kill him! Kill him now!"
"Oh, come on. This isn't your war." The wolf stepped closer, each time becoming more and more confident.
I can do it. James thought to himself. I can do it.
"All my Queen wants is for you to take your family and go." More ice broke, James' hands trembled. Peter looked around frantically, an idea in the elders mind. It had to be done in the perfect movement.
"Just because some man in a red coat hands you a weapon, it doesn't make you a hero!" Desperately cried Susan. "Just drop it!"
"No, Narnia needs you!" Mr Beaver shouted. "Hit him while you've still got the chance."
I can do it.
"What's it going to be, Sons of Adam? I won't wait forever."
I can do it.
"And neither will the river."
Water began to spirt from the ice. It was breaking.
"Peter," James breathed, knowing time was running out. "Do you trust me?"
"What?"
"Do you trust me?" His eyes searched frantically, volume of his voice not rising more than natural.
I can do it.
"Of course I do."
"Put down your sword."
A quizzical look was sent his way. Peter's words repeated. "What?"
"Dig down your sword."
"Hold onto me." Peter told his sisters as he did what his elder brother asked of him.
There was a split second, just before the ice broke, when the taunting wolf jumped forwards. James had been waiting. He was ready.
I can do it.
His axe swung nightly, one of the blades slicing through the first few layers of the creatures facial flesh. Crimson blood spurted onto his hands, his coat, and his weapon. That wasn't relevant. A howl of pain left the wolfs mouth: a wave crashed over the Pevensie's. Frantically, James grasped for his brother, managing to latch his fingers onto the fur coat, just as the cool liquid hit his body.
A great weight overpowered him. James held his breath.
The simplicity of the situation was oddly calming. The sound of water gushing through his ears was all he could hear. His eyes were shut, all of his skin aching with dull pain. Every inch of him felt as if needles were poking through to the muscle.
James didn't know how long he was under for. How could he? All he knew, was that they resurfaced.
The air was a slap to his face, cold and harsh on his cheeks. Oxygen filled his lungs, and he gasped for it. Deprived. It was how he imagined a baby to feel after birth. Horrifying.
Somewhere along the short travel, the beavers had arrived alongside their makeshift raft, guiding the ice towards land. Thankfully, they made it there without to much bother.
James was freezing. Everywhere ached. His fingers hurt from his tight grip on the black axe, but other than that, he- himself- had no problems. That was, until Peter stood.
Susan was beside him. Edmund was elsewhere. Peter was in front of him... holding Lucy's coat.
Lucy was nowhere to be seen.
"What have you done?" Susan gasped.
"I swear to God, Peter." Hissed James, not caring how mean he sounded. They couldn't have lost Lucy. They couldn't have.
"Lucy!" The girl cried out. "Lucy!"
"Lou!" James joined in, but Peter just stood. He was in shock. He didn't know what had happened.
The blue water ripples. No longer, it was azure and loving. Now it was cold. It was dangerous. Lucy could be in there. Was she? Could she swim? James couldn't seem to remember. He couldn't remember a thing.
"Has anyone seen my coat?"
He let out a sigh as tears pricked his chocolate eyes. "Jesus Christ on a bike."
There she was. There was Lucy, freezing as she pulled her green woollen cardigan closer to her small, fragile body. Her dark hair stuck to her face, and she stumbled slightly as she walked towards them. She was alright.
"Don't you worry, dear." Said Mr Beaver as Peter helped her put the coat back on. When it was, James embraced her as he crouched to down her height. The thought of losing her was one he never wanted to feel again. "Your brothers have got you well looked after."
"And I don't think you'll be needing those coats anymore." Mrs Beaver added.
She directed them towards a small group of trees, different to the rest. A pink blossom had started to form at the ends of the spindling branches. It was light, almost unnoticeable. But, all the same, it was there: that was important.
With every step they took, less and less snow became visible. And with every step, it became warmer; so much so, that they'd abandoned their sopping wet coats in aid of the warm sunshine. They were no longer needed. It was with every step that more and more plants came to life, and returned to their previous ways. It was every step that the four Pevensie siblings took towards Aslan's camp which meant spring was arriving.
The prophecy was beginning to come true, and James was fearing it.
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2115
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Disclaimer!!!!
I don't own anything to do with Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. I'm just a fan of C.S.Lewis' books and the films.
The only thing I do own is the character of James Pevensie and his story line.