Undetermined Mission || Reepicheep & Susan

Cheerful trees…

Truthfully, Reep found it somewhat difficult to imagine the world Queen Susan must have known. He’d always believed the tales, of course; trees dancing with fauns and satyrs, speaking across the world on the slightest breeze, but it was difficult to take those old fairy tales and push them into the present, particularly alongside the power and vengeance wrought by those trees that had joined them in battle against Miraz. 

He hadn’t had much time to talk to them since then. 

“No riddles, then? When I was a mouseling, I always assumed trees spoke in riddles. The few dryads we ever saw always did, drifting in and out of form and only ever staying just long enough to leave you with more questions than answers.”

Susan smiled as she thought back to her years spent in the wood among the trees. “They did like to speak in riddles, but they never did it so much to confuse you. They’re not spiteful trees,” she informed him, as she began to feel her mood lighten and her thoughts begin to calm.

Just the memories were helping her feel more at ease again.

“I can’t say what they might do now,” she said after a quiet moment. “They’ve been a sleep for so many years, that they might nor even be the same trees… not really.”

Reep hummed, thoughtfully.

"It’s true they’ve been through a lot. More, perhaps, than they suffered at the hands of the Witch; Miraz would certainly like to think so.” He tried to sound as casual as possible, but it was still hard. Thinking about the sheer numbers of Narnians who had been lost was nearly impossible, it was so vast a figure. Families, species, all decimated for greed of a few soldiers.

Not that he was going to bring all that up. 

“But then, I think Miraz would be happy to be remembered for anything at all, you know. The mere fact that he made such a dramatic end of it would probably please that tyrant; I doubt old master Badger is going to forget his involvement anytime soon. Badgers with long memories will probably be telling stories about the great monster Miraz in an hundred years. Of course, by then the stories will likely be utterly ridiculous. He’ll probably have three heads and breathe fire.

“My lady,” he added, hesitantly, “I’ve always wondered, if you’d permit me, how many of your stories are true? I suppose it’s rather a broad topic, but would you... ah, would you humour me with a tale of old?”

Endless List of Favourite Movies: 1/?

↳Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe

That strange feeling- Like the first signs of spring, like good news, had came over them.

endless list of my favourite books | the chronicles of narnia by c. s. lewis

dedicated to @blaickcanary

REMEMBER KIDS !!   some very important relationships are PLATONIC.   some are maternal, paternal, friendships, siblingships.   they do not all have to revolve around romantic/sexual attraction.   please don’t ever think that i wouldn’t write with you if you didn’t want to bring a romantic/sexual ship to the table. I LOVE PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS.   THEY ARE UNDERRATED, UNDER EXPLORED, AND LOOKED PAST WAY TOO OFTEN.    THEY CAN BE THE MOST IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIP TO A CHARACTER.   PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

Sword Quest || Puss and Reepicheep

Reep hummed.

Splitting up would certainly speed up their progress, even if one of them did have to double back. They were both excellent warriors, so should they find danger it wasn’t as though either of them necessarily needed protecting, as such. 

 they could take care of themselves. And it wasn’t as though they’d be straying too far from one another. Probably. 

But then, the skeptical part of his brain added, that could be exactly what the magic wants you to think. It wants you alone, wants you lost. 

Ah.

Of course, there was always the possibility that there was nothing magical at all about the paths, that they just happened to have been made in an extremely convoluted manner, but were otherwise perfectly ordinary. But if there was even the chance…

“Does this place seem particularly… magical to you? I can’t make up my mind. But if there is magic about, it would make sense to stick together, don’t you think? It would be no good our wandering off, never to find one another again.”

The ginger feline raised his brow at his question, observing the surroundings suspiciously. He didn’t see anything strange or something that could catch his attention. But what if this place is under a dark and mysterious enchantment? Puss couldn’t even tell from what he have seen. 

He could still see the directions but it was getting darker in the far distance. In places like this, Puss already knew there might be unexpected slopes, narrow tunnels and traps along the way.

“It’s hard to tell.” Puss finally admitted, now scratching his chin in thought, “It’s possible that the magic might be present here. It could be invisible to our eyes but there are certain creatures who can see it.”

“In that case, let’s stay on one path together.”

Reep nodded. Magic could be a beautiful, elegant thing, but it could be twisted, too. It really wasn’t worth the risk.

He started down the path in front of them, stopping every few paces to look back, to see if anything had changed.

“This reminds me of an old tower I found myself in, once. Ancient thing. No one knew who built it, but they said it held the answers to a great many mysteries within it’s walls. Some enchanter or other - I never learned their name - had cursed the place, that no man who entered could ever leave. 

“It was like a palace, inside: all twisting corridors and endless stairs, and every time I tried to go back, I found myself somewhere else entirely. I must have wandered around it for days.”

The Locked Door - Reepicheep and Mary

honourandgloryofamouse;;

Slumped against a door that would not open, a mist seemed to form, not only in the room but in the English Princess’ mind. Every thought and memory seemed blurred and Reepicheep’s words seemed long and drawn out.

It felt like she had been sitting there for hours when her hand fell from knee to slide onto stone floor - her father’s ring rubbed against her skin and this forced a flash of clear mind tap up her spine.

With a sudden burst of energy, Mary stood clumsily and rushed forward, through the misty form of the White Witch and fell into a heap on the darker side of the room, finding it to be far larger than expected. “Reep! This way!”

Reepicheep blinked, frozen for a moment in the wake of the sudden move. Before him, the form of the Witch swayed. There was anger in those eyes, now, burning as bright as the torch, and he could feel the waves of magic roiling around him, freezing him.

But Mary ran straight through her. As though she wasn’t there.

The Witch stepped forward - no longer floating, but moving with real purpose - reaching towards him as he wavered.

Like a snow ghost, his mind whispered, and he as the Witch reached out towards him, he leapt forwards, and passed straight through her.

Beyond the ghost, the room felt lighter, less clogged with magic and rage, and Reep felt his mind begin to clear. He scampered over to where Mary lay, sheathing his blade; it wouldn’t be any use, after all.

“A stroke of genius, my lady! But how did you know?”

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