towards a great adventure [narnia] [jill]
Dec. 30th, 2006 08:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Towards a Great Adventure, by Pen.
The Chronicles of Narnia, Jill Pole, G.
This was a sekrit santa present for TRISTOFFER, who loves Jill and Eustace, and has issues with Aslan (...JUST LIKE I DO).
She lies there, her head pillowed by his thigh as she looks up at the sky. The clouds float by, light and fluffy.
"That one's a sheep," she says, and points.
Eustace shades his eyes. "I think that one's a ship." She hums and closes her eyes.
In the shade of the tree, she sleeps.
**
The wheels of the train squeal, and her stomach lurches. "Eustace." She scrabbles for his hand, and he holds tight.
The lights go out.
**
Aslan disappears for days and weeks. "Perhaps he's closing other doors," Eustace says, when she asks.
She has never been a queen of Narnia, but the robes of blue are heavy on her shoulders all the same. "I know this is where Aslan wants us, but Eustace, what of our parents?" Jill leans on the railing; watches Lucy and Edmund laughing in the surf.
He turns his head, his hands cupped around a goblet of fresh mango juice. "I don't know. I had not thought to think of them."
"No," she says. Bites her lip. "Neither did I."
**
The weeks pass, and Aslan does not return. Peter listens to supplicants with Edmund the Just and Lucy the Valiant, and the faces they turn to her are wise and hurt and like none that Jill has ever seen. Peter takes advice from Aunt Polly and the Professor, and they listen to Lucy's laughter and Edmund's judgments, and all of them are careful to ignore the empty throne beneath the window.
In the darkness, Jill weeps for a queen she never knew.
**
"Scrubb," she says. Rests her hand on his shoulder in the darkness. "I want to find my parents. They must be very worried about me."
"Pole," he says, struggling from sleep. "What are you talking about?"
"I've come to say goodbye. I'm going to be gone for a bit, and I didn't want you to worry."
Eustace blinks. "Your parents think you're dead, Jill," he says, quietly, as though not to scare her. "We died, you know."
"And that's unfair," she insists. "And if we're dead, well, there's no harm to us in adventuring."
Eustace bites his lips and looks at her. "You're right," he agrees. Pushes himself out of bed. "Just let me change."
"No," Jill says. She grabs his wrist and he stills at her touch. "You should stay here."
"And let you off on an adventure without me?" He smiles at her and shakes his head. "As if I would let you do that."
**
They leave a note for Lucy; wrap themselves in sensible clothes and detour by the kitchen. The moon is bright as they head for the mountains, and they have no trouble seeing the path as it lies, golden before them.
Eustace points. "That way," he says. "I recognise that stream." The stream they follow is more than a stream; it is wide and deep, and Jill thinks of the Thames. As they round the bend, Jill thinks she recognises the shape of the rocks and texture of the ground; when they stop to drink from the stream, the ground beneath their feet rumbles.
"What's that?" she asks, and Eustace turns.
"Children," says Aslan. "This is not your path."
Jill turns away, and Eustace reaches for her hand.
Aslan ushers them back to Cair Paravel, and Jill tries not to cry.
She is unsuccessful.
END
The Chronicles of Narnia, Jill Pole, G.
This was a sekrit santa present for TRISTOFFER, who loves Jill and Eustace, and has issues with Aslan (...JUST LIKE I DO).
She lies there, her head pillowed by his thigh as she looks up at the sky. The clouds float by, light and fluffy.
"That one's a sheep," she says, and points.
Eustace shades his eyes. "I think that one's a ship." She hums and closes her eyes.
In the shade of the tree, she sleeps.
**
The wheels of the train squeal, and her stomach lurches. "Eustace." She scrabbles for his hand, and he holds tight.
The lights go out.
**
Aslan disappears for days and weeks. "Perhaps he's closing other doors," Eustace says, when she asks.
She has never been a queen of Narnia, but the robes of blue are heavy on her shoulders all the same. "I know this is where Aslan wants us, but Eustace, what of our parents?" Jill leans on the railing; watches Lucy and Edmund laughing in the surf.
He turns his head, his hands cupped around a goblet of fresh mango juice. "I don't know. I had not thought to think of them."
"No," she says. Bites her lip. "Neither did I."
**
The weeks pass, and Aslan does not return. Peter listens to supplicants with Edmund the Just and Lucy the Valiant, and the faces they turn to her are wise and hurt and like none that Jill has ever seen. Peter takes advice from Aunt Polly and the Professor, and they listen to Lucy's laughter and Edmund's judgments, and all of them are careful to ignore the empty throne beneath the window.
In the darkness, Jill weeps for a queen she never knew.
**
"Scrubb," she says. Rests her hand on his shoulder in the darkness. "I want to find my parents. They must be very worried about me."
"Pole," he says, struggling from sleep. "What are you talking about?"
"I've come to say goodbye. I'm going to be gone for a bit, and I didn't want you to worry."
Eustace blinks. "Your parents think you're dead, Jill," he says, quietly, as though not to scare her. "We died, you know."
"And that's unfair," she insists. "And if we're dead, well, there's no harm to us in adventuring."
Eustace bites his lips and looks at her. "You're right," he agrees. Pushes himself out of bed. "Just let me change."
"No," Jill says. She grabs his wrist and he stills at her touch. "You should stay here."
"And let you off on an adventure without me?" He smiles at her and shakes his head. "As if I would let you do that."
**
They leave a note for Lucy; wrap themselves in sensible clothes and detour by the kitchen. The moon is bright as they head for the mountains, and they have no trouble seeing the path as it lies, golden before them.
Eustace points. "That way," he says. "I recognise that stream." The stream they follow is more than a stream; it is wide and deep, and Jill thinks of the Thames. As they round the bend, Jill thinks she recognises the shape of the rocks and texture of the ground; when they stop to drink from the stream, the ground beneath their feet rumbles.
"What's that?" she asks, and Eustace turns.
"Children," says Aslan. "This is not your path."
Jill turns away, and Eustace reaches for her hand.
Aslan ushers them back to Cair Paravel, and Jill tries not to cry.
She is unsuccessful.
END
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-30 01:00 am (UTC)For you, I overcome my allergy to Third Person Present tense :D Thanks so much for sharing.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-02 11:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-05 08:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-30 01:41 am (UTC)*adores*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-02 11:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-30 01:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-02 11:31 am (UTC)Those are my issues, in brief. I have others, but that is a brief summary.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-02 03:27 pm (UTC)While I love the Narnia series as a child, as an adult, I always loved the potential inherent therein, because as I grew older, questioning Catholicism got to be a big thing for me. (S'what I grew up as, Catholic, I mean.)
If you ever do a full-on post on the subject, I'll read gleefully. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-30 05:50 am (UTC)Also, I remember thinking the first time that even if I didn't know your writing, I'd still be able to recognize this as yours by the golden path. <3s!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-02 11:34 am (UTC)I am glad that you love it, Tris, as I tried very hard to write about the things in Narnia that interest you the most.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-03 03:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-13 01:28 am (UTC)Shivers.
OH THE EMPTY THRONE. I read somewhere that Lewis said Susan's story wasn't over. I kind of wish he followed through on that before he died, but kind of relieved he didn't? Because now she is the biggest unresolved issue in the books and a good vessel for criticism in fic.
<3 overall.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-13 11:24 am (UTC)I am glad that we get to write about Susan, I don't trust what CS Lewis would have said about her.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-13 12:19 pm (UTC)Oh man. Exactly! I wonder how that would've shaped fandom, if he had ended up writing her. It's interesting writing Narnia characters, in that Lewis meant for everything to be such a symbol, more than in any other canon I've encountered. So it's like writing more message than character, or something.
Anyway, I'm writing Aslan Country's fic for the TV trope fic challenge where my trope is "dead to begin with", and it's relatively lighter in tone than my gut feeling towards the place. It's an interesting change, writing characters that aren't allowed to be sad. Leads to flashbacks. And the parents feature!? Ya, weird. They were just supposed to stick around for a paragraph, but then Mrs. Pevensie is all "Oh my" at Caspian's chivalry, and Mr. Pevensie is all "Conquer any kingdoms lately?", and I let them stick around. Oh, bit parts. I'm still waiting for someone to cough up a movieverse Glozelle fic.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-13 01:30 pm (UTC)VOTE GLOZELLE
Date: 2008-07-13 09:39 pm (UTC)- There are lots of fics that are all like "Oh, Narnia is so much more colorful than England" but I wanna be like a-DUH London is pretty gray especially when compared to whatever South Sea island Glozelle ended up on. Glozelle steps through the door/tree, and the crisp air of Narnia becomes the solid humidity of the tropics. The green of palm and banana trees, the turquoise of the Pacific, the white of the sand, the magenta of the hibiscus: colors all vivid and unrelenting. The way Narnia is more real to the Pevensies than gray England, the Pacific island with its brightness and stickiness is more real to Glozelle than temperate Narnia.
- comparisons and ruminations of endless winter vs. endless summer
- Maybe he begins forgetting Narnia the way the Pevensies forgot England.
- One time, feeling foolish, he asked a bird a question, but the bird didn't say answer of course, and Glozelle felt even more foolish and was glad no one saw him.
- Thick Telmarine clothes are discarded for lighter clothing. Glozelle likes the look and feel of these new clothes, and he likes how Prunaprismia has been smiling at him lately, offering him bites of her fruit.
Or Glozelle mentoring Caspian; he didn't skewer the boy for a reason! Or Miraz/Glozelle mind games.
Re: VOTE GLOZELLE
Date: 2008-07-14 10:05 am (UTC)Re: VOTE GLOZELLE
Date: 2008-07-14 12:25 pm (UTC)I KNOW, he's not even supposed to be this interesting! D-: