Narnia fic: "Dust in the Air" (prologue)

[bedlamsbard]

Title: Dust in the Air prologue
Author: bedlamsbard
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia movieverse/bookverse
Rating: PG-13
Summary: And the end of all our exploring / will be to arrive where we started. An AU of The Last Battle, some five years after that book begins.
Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia and its characters, situations, settings, etc., belong to C.S. Lewis. Certain characters, situations, settings, etc., belong to Walden Media. Title and quote from T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets: Little Gidding.
Author's Notes: And this would be the other reason this isn't getting posted to the comms just yet! This should be the only out-of-order bit that's posted, and I apologize; I thought it would work somewhere in the middle, but apparently not.



There is, of course, blood.

Blood and fire; those they have in plenty. There are other elements that are harder to get. The wine takes them three weeks to steal, and that was pure chance; it wasn't usually Narnian wine that was given to the soldiers at the nearby forts, and they couldn't have used a Calormene or Archenlander vintage. But even the wine was easy enough to get compared to the rest.

Hard enough to leave the woods, harder still to get across the whole of Narnia, and hardest of all to get into Cair Paravel and out again. They'd done it in the end, one nerve-wracking month after they'd finally gotten the wine and a bare day before the stars were no longer right for what they meant to do.

It should have been on the nameless island, amidst the ruins of the true Cair Paravel, but that would have been certain death. So they do it here, flames building towards the star-speckled sky as they stoke the fire higher and higher, melting the snow in a wide circle around it, steam shimmering in the cold air. The blood is a minotaur's; there was much that had been forgotten, but not this. He goes willing, chosen at random out of a pool of volunteers; and once they've collected the blood in a rough wooden bowl (it should have been silver, but where were they to get a silver bowl? and wood would do well enough, for this; it was good Narnian wood, gifted by a willing dryad) they drag the body away. Give him to the earth and the open air, a true Narnian interment and not the tombs of the Telmarines, nor the pyres of the Calormenes. There are few enough left of them that will have the luck to meet such an end.

Blood and wood; he adds wine (a good vintage, unspoiled, from Erlian's last year) and a handful of earth carefully gathered from the nameless island itself, the land that even the Calormenes will not venture on. A good place to hide if any Narnian had been willing to spend a night there; none of them are. The nameless island is haunted by the spirits of the unquiet dead, those murdered in the Dying Times; they will wreak their vengeance on anyone who sets foot on that land past nightfall, Narnian or otherwise. Despite the risk of Calormene patrols, they had gone in the daylight and looked for the first time upon the thrones of the kings and queens of summer, broken and despoiled by siege and by time. The earth comes from beneath the walls of what had once been Cair Paravel; he lets it sink to the bottom of the bowl, blurring amidst the blood and wine that shimmer scarlet in the firelight.

One last addition; this had been the most pleasurable to get. By all justice this should be the sword of Narnia he draws, but no one will touch that blade, not even the Telmarine thieves who call themselves kings. It's enough that this is one of the legendary weapons of the Kings and Queens of old, the Kings and Queens of Summer. He draws the dagger of the Queen of Morning, the golden hilt flickering in the firelight as he turns the blade to see the steel stained dark with king's blood. This for the prophecy; this for Peter's promise to Caspian three hundred years before. The dagger sinks to the bottom of the bowl, resting amidst the earth of Narnia.

He passes the bowl to a comrade and steps up before the fire. The gifts are laid upon the bare earth, crystal vial to one side, bow and quiver to the other. He takes the sheathed sword of Narnia up between his palms. He will not draw this blade; no one will. Rhindon goes point-down in the earth, a guide-post for those that will come, must come, and looped across the crossbars of the hilt is Queen Susan's horn.

He takes the bowl in his hands again. There were words for this, once; they have been forgotten. So much has been forgotten. This has to be enough. Blood and fire, earth and wine, the gifts of Narnia and the blood of a traitorous king, and the need of a nation. A summoning.

The blood of Narnia, her breath and her flesh and her bone, and a promise that must be fulfilled. The words fall on silence but for the crackle and pop of the burning wood. Answer us! Kings and Queens of Summer, we call you in this time of need, in this time of dying; we call you to fulfill the prophecy made two thousand years ago. Adam's flesh and Adam's bone, Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve who once graced the white walls of Cair Paravel. Queen of Morning, we ask for your strong heart. King of Evening, we ask for your wisdom. Queen of Spring, we ask for your grace. King of Summer, we ask for your protection, for your sword-arm, for your vengeance. Once you promised that you would come at Narnia's call; she calls you now! Answer us!

He throws the bowl upon the fire. Blood and wine turn from liquid to air; the steel goes red with heat and the wood burns. He takes the horn of Narnia and it burns his hands, warm as a woman's flesh and the heart of a flame.

The sound of it is like nothing they’ve ever heard before; this call has not been heard in Narnia for three hundred years. The winding of the horn rends the strength from his bones; he falls to his knees and the horn falls from his hand to lie upon the earth.

He looks up at the gasps of those around him.

There are shapes in the fire. Four of them, dark and shadowy at first but growing more distinct even as he watches, and then the fire dies, leaving behind spirits made flesh. Two are dark, one is fair, and the fourth is golden. It is this last that moves first. He grips the hilt of the sword that has not been drawn in three hundred years and pulls it from its scabbard. Starlight catches on steel as Rhindon tastes Narnian air once more.

The King of Summer and his kin have returned.



Part One 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17
Part Two 00 | 000 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | Interlude | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31

Comments

[lyamainu.livejournal.com]

... that is all kinds of creepifying.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

It is supposed to be. *grin*

[snacky]

There are shapes in the fire. Four of them, dark and shadowy at first but growing more distinct even as he watches, and then the fire dies, leaving behind spirits made flesh. Two are dark, one is fair, and the fourth is golden. It is this last that moves first. He grips the hilt of the sword that has not been drawn in three hundred years and pulls it from its scabbard. Starlight catches on steel as Rhindon tastes Narnian air once more.

The King of Summer and his kin have returned.

OMG. I mean. I knew it was coming. But just reading that, I gasped. That was an awesome buildup and payoff for that moment.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Yay! I am glad it worked. I was always pretty sure of the Pevensies coming out of the fire part...

[swift-tales.livejournal.com]

HOLY FUCK, but I love your mind

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

*curtsies* Thank you.

[dikela.livejournal.com]

YOu are ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE.

You are right, this wouldn't work in the middle, but what a beginning!

Blood and fire, earth and wine, the gifts of Narnia and the blood of a traitorous king, and the need of a nation. A summoning.

*blood of a traitorous king*? They used Tirian? Did one of them take part in his capture?

You didn't yet write about Narnia/Peter. Is she alive/awake?

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Peter/Narnia is probably not in continuity in this story. *shrug* It's not necessary, and while this does use Warsverse background, it kind of, um, picks and chooses. I really need to write up a guide to the various aspects of the Warsvese some time. *sheepish*

As for Tirian, well...we shall see. *smirk*

[dikela.livejournal.com]

Peter/Narnia is probably not in continuity in this story. *shrug* It's not necessary, and while this does use Warsverse background, it kind of, um, picks and chooses.

You should know. But wouldn't Peter expect it? And, somehow, I expect it too. ...I know -- she is SULKING. But, really, if she recognized Peter in PC after thirteen centuries, wouldn't she pounce on him after only three?
Unless she is in shock after Tash came. The coming of the alien God -- it should hurt.

This is what you get for detailed world-making! Everyone knows better than you, what you should write about and what details to include. ;P

I really need to write up a guide to the various aspects of the Warsvese some time.

A meta! WEYou really need it. Not now maybe, but it would help you too.

P.S. You wrote that you consider "Magician's Nephew" a creation myth. Why? We do have a live witness, two of them, in fact.

[westingturtle.livejournal.com]

They sacrificed a minotaur. Willing or not, this is definately not the Narnia they once knew. ::shivers::

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

To be fair, the minotaur thing is kind of a callback to a story that hasn't been written yet; it's a concept realpestilence and I have been throwing around regarding something that went down in the Golden Age. (Which, uh, may not actually be in continuity in this story, so DAMN STRAIGHT this is not the Narnia they knew.)

[animus-wyrmis.livejournal.com]

Omg. ::has goosebumps:: This is definitely a different Narnia. (But still *awesome*.)

Where did they get Tirian's blood? Did they help capture him?

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

As for Tirian, I suppose we'll see, shan't we? *grin* Maybe so and maybe no...

[muridae-x.livejournal.com]

Oh, poor Tirian. Even the wine from his reign isn't considered up to standard. I'm assuming the king's blood was his, but including that would be more in the nature of a curse.

The Pevensies are going to be extremely ticked off about the blood sacrifice when they learn the details. I can't help but suspect the Narnians could have dispensed with making the minotaurs draw straws and gone straight to blowing Susan's horn. No matter what, they're scarily fanatical. Not really the most desirable of allies.

(Incidentally, hi. I stumbled across your journal a couple of days ago and have been devouring your stories in random fashion ever since. And, as someone who's never quite got the logic of "and they all died in a train crash and lived happily ever after", this particular Last Battle AU is very much to my taste.)

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

*waves* Hi and welcome! I'm glad you like what you're seeing. *grin*

What hasn't come up yet is that the Pevensies ended up with the crazy fanatical zealot Narnians, the ones who have decided the Telmarine kings are at the root of all Narnia's problems and are trying to go back to the old ways of their ancestors. Chances are pretty good that most of the other refugee/guerilla camps would never have dared try what this camp is doing. (Well, none of them would camp out in the ruins of Arn Abedin, for one thing. It may not be Cair Paravel itself, but it's still a Golden Age castle.)

*sheepish* I think I may have some colonialism/acculturation subtext underlaid beneath this story.

[muridae-x.livejournal.com]

It's so much more of a challenge if you have to fight your own side as well as the opposition. Can't let them have it too easy, after all.

Strictly speaking, the crazy fanatical zealot Narnians should be viewing the Pevensies as interlopers quite as much as the Telmarines - they all came into the land from elsewhere. But the Pevensies do at least have the advantage of having been Aslan-sponsored from the outset, rather than having to wait ten generations first, and they've clearly got a seriously corrupted view of their own history.

You'd think the talking beasts would have a better aural tradition than that. And we know that, canonically, some of them could write - Maugrim, for instance. There should be books with all this stuff written down in it. Somewhere.

Okay, I'm now struggling to visualise a wolf with a pen in its paw. Opposable claws? No, doesn't work for me. Maybe he held it between his teeth.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

There's not a lot of their own history left -- before the Long Winter, the White Witch destroyed everything. There was a pretty strong oral and written tradition during the Golden Age, but the Dying Times (about three hundred years after the Golden Age) did a serious number on that, and by that point all that was left was myth and legend about the great Golden Age of Narnia. Then the Telmarines came in. The history was corrupted already by the time of PC; unfortunately, Caspian's descendents didn't help. Telmarine culture impacted hard and unfortunate on Narnian culture when they mixed under Caspian, Rilian, and their descendants. It has been sixteen hundred years after all, and a lot of those sixteen hundred years have been pain and blood and suffering.

And after all, the Pevensies did save Narnia. And the books -- well, the books aren't really available to the common people, and the majority of them are written by the Telmarines anyway, and Telmarine views of Narnian history are always supremely amusing.

[ceirseach.livejournal.com]

Dipped one claw in ink, maybe?

But then you have to visualise a wolf trying to curl the rest of his claws out of the way, which gets too anthropomorphic again.

Clearly he was a werewolf!

[tekalynn.livejournal.com]

Ooooh. Marvelous, in all senses. And incredibly eerie.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Thank you. *grin*

[burntcopper.livejournal.com]

oh my fucking god. What did you just write? The ritual and the mood and the dear god. The last lines.

All that and they didn't get that all you needed to do was blow the horn...

(an going along with everyone else in presuming they got the blood from Tirian before chucking him to the Calormenes.) and the ghosts from the Dying Times came back? OUCH. And if Edmund ever finds out the full extent of that ritual, I'm seeing deaths.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

*sweetly* But did you really have to just blow the horn after all? I mean, do we know that?

I feel the Pevensies would be a little annoyed at the entirety of the ritual, yes. *smirk*

[franceica.livejournal.com]

Oh my dear god.

Creepy. Yet so intriguing. The Narnians. Oh, how desperate they are. And seeing the kings and queens of summer manifest before their eyes must have strengthen their belief that these are deities. The Last Battle Narnians are so fucked up.

And like everybody else, I wonder if the "king's blood" meant Tirian's blood? But would they still call him "king"? They said "Telmarine thieves" before that.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

They are pretty fucked up, yeah, and I suppose rightfully so. And to be, uh, fair, these are the crazy fanatic zealot Narnians. They're trying to regain their history! They want to be one with their ancestors! Down with the Telmarines, they shout! Caspian is at the root of all Narnia's current problems! They're like the Black Panther Narnians, basically. I'm going to be shot by someone on my LJ for saying that, aren't I?

When referring to the Telmarines, these Narnians tend to use "king" and "thief" pretty interchangeably.

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

You pack a lot of info in this short piece. I like the fact that the sacrifices were *willing*, both the minotaur and the dryad's wood-that's a MAJOR factor and might be the only thing that would mitigate them being pissed over the ritual death. (Very heroic, btw-it's like an amputation, for the dryad, and the minotaurs had multiple volunteers!)It's not necessary, for the horn to work; but the Narnians don't know that, evidently...they're dealing with the same dimly-remembered lore that Peter and Edmund,etc, had to deal with, back in their day (in your wars!verse), only it's been even longer.

I don't know that I'd call Tirian a "traitorous king". Not being able to do the job properly, or as well as it needs to be done, isn't the same thing as being a traitor-the deliberate intent is wanting, for one thing. I would call it the blood of a *failed* king, myself. Do you think the Old Narnians and the Newer Narnians would still be doing the "freaks!" and "Telmarine thieves" label-calling, after so many centuries-and in the face of a common foe...? After Caspian's long-life and popular rule (in canon), Narnia's people were fairly unified, I think. Hmm.

This is rather creepy, with all the night/firelight/blood references and dragging the body away, and then Rhindon has a real prescence in my mind, at least, because I keep thinking "it's a good thing they didn't try to draw THAT"-did you keep the "must taste blood before it can be sheathed" aspect? Even without that, it's still High King Peter's sword-and he wouldn't like it AT ALL. Oh-I liked the wine, too. You can't have any kind of nature magic or magic that's important to Narnia without having Bacchus represented somehow, imo. :)

I wish there was a way to include Edmund and Lucy in the summoning ritual. I suppose they could drip a tiny drop of cordial in the blood, or a bitty chip off the stopper; but what, for Edmund? The fact that it's at night, and he's the King of Evening and of Shadows? (Again, depending on how much you've kept from the wars!verse)


It's a good prologue, sets the fic up for an uneasy beginning. :)

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

This hasn't come up yet, but the Pevensies have ended up with the crazy hardcore Narnians, the ones that really believe Tirian handed Narnia over to Calormen on a silver platter and that the Telmarines are at the root of all evils. They are trying to get back to the Narnia of their roots! They are trying to connect with the Narnia of the distant past! Only problem is that the Narnia they think they know doesn't exist...

Oh, man, they wouldn't dare try drawing Rhindon. It's a tradition that started with Caspian, because he never used the sword, never. (Just like in some legends no one but Queen Susan could string her bow, or how no one but Queen Lucy could use the cordial...) And there is still some lingering of the legend about Rhindon having to taste blood; I think it may have changed so that if anyone who isn't Peter draws the sword, it'll taste that blood -- their life's blood. No, they wouldn't draw Rhindon.

(Er, sorry, I started this before your edit, so that's in my e-mail window...)

There is pretty much the implication that getting the four of them is a package deal. This is the same lot that refuses to believe that Lucy and Edmund were with Caspian on the Dawn Treader; Telmarine propaganda to legitimize their claim! And the Queen of Morning and King of Evening would never appear in Narnia without the King of Summer and Queen of Spring. (Note also that Peter's never referred to as the High King here. That's significant somehow, I think. Unless I'm mistaken, Tirian's the only Narnian that's called Peter "High King" so far...)

They remember enough that it has to be volunteers.

[caramelsilver.livejournal.com]

Oh my fucking god! That was creepy. And I love it!

They said that it used to be words... How do they know that? Nobody else have done it? Or... They did and it didn't work... And there was a ritual, which needed blood! As in life blood. My god, that's disgusting. The Pevensies are gonna be so angry when they hear. I imagine Susan yelling at them they could have just blown the horn!! And the last scene was AWESOME! They just coming out of the fire. And... Do they even remember their names? I mean they keep calling them King of Summer and Queen of Spring. And do they remember the history around them, Lucy coming through the wardrobe and Edmunds betrayal?

This is wonderful, creepy but wonderful. But these Narnians *are* quite fanatic!

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

These are the crazy fanatic zealot Narnians who are trying to reclaim their pasts. *sheepish* The rest of the Narnians are desperate, but not quite so crazy...

They remember Peter and Susan's names, at least; it's in the text. But they don't call Peter the High King; the only Narnian that's done that so far has been Tirian. They're -- legend, they're not history to these Narnians.

[starsimpulse.livejournal.com]

Holy crap this was amazing! I keep going back to read it over and over.

On a side note, I read this while listening to THE LAST OF THE MOHHICANS Promentory (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1ryJDVuZ6k) which was amazing and I think just added to the overall effect; I don't know if it was the theme you were going for, but I absolutely loved it and now that soundtrack has become like my (unofficial) soundtrack for "Dust". Well, kind of, for some parts.

Anyway, this was awesome, and I can not wait for more.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Damn. *impressed* Man, I haven't listened to the Last of the Mohicans in ages, and it's not on my iPod. Because I did not think I would be writing a Last Battle AU epic at college.

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

Hokay, you send shivers up my spine, and make me want to swear never to type a word again. *shakes head* How on earth do you do this?

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

*clutches you* Don't not type ever again! I think you need to do that for school!

Spine-shivers are good. *smirks*

[ineptshieldmaid.livejournal.com]

AHAHAH YES. I need to finish my thesis by Sunday night. SO YES I NEED TO TYPE. And it would be good to actually type said thesis, and not, y'know, the Narnia plot notes which have promptly invaded my head.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

Oooooh, good luck on your thesis. *sends transcontinental/transpacific good vibes* Just let the plot notes percolate...give you something to look forward to as the light at the end of a dark tunnel...

[lassiterfics.livejournal.com]

narnians willingly sacrificing themselves! <3

this part is especially PURE YOU. i love it omg.

[bedlamsbard.livejournal.com]

well, i should hope it's pure me. certainly not anyone else.

the thing about the narnians is that at least the blood sacrifices are always willing! because an unwilling sacrifice gets you nothing but a dead body.