In which an adventure begins

[rthstewart]

I'll post this over in the LB AU for the heck of it but really I had this idea and it wouldn't let go.  TAG.  You're IT

In a month of beastly days, one after another, the last had been absolutely the worst. She’d stormed out of chapel, unable to stomach another lecture from Reverend Collins on Eve’s sin – and he was staring at her the whole time.  He was the most  horrid sort of hypocrite.  The weather had been too rotten even for her own tastes – Lucy would so much rather be out of doors, but she wasn’t going to sit in a tree in a thunderstorm. 

Marjorie and Jane were trying their best but Lucy knew she wasn’t being fair to her friends.  She didn’t want her classmates punished for her truancy.  Their explanations to matron and Headmistress Blockhead were becoming too far-fetched to cover for Lucy’s disappearances. 

Dinner was the same as always, cold, rigid and whispered.  Afterwards, there was more studying in their hall that she pretended to do and then bedtime at precisely 9 o’clock, lights out at 10. 

Lucy was roiling with so much anger over the day’s injustices, small and large, she finally gave up trying to sleep.  She slipped out of her bed.  As she was pulling a jumper on over her nightdress (she never bothered with slippers), she saw Marjorie open her eyes and stare at her in the dark.  There was a little sigh and then Marjorie rolled over in her bed.  If there was a bedcheck, Marjorie would pretend she never noticed Lucy sneaking out, again. 

All was going well.  She eased out of the room (Lucy had oiled the hinges so the door didn’t squeak).  Unfortunately, she turned about and nearly trod upon the girls’ Prefect, sitting on the floor and reading by torchlight in the hall. 

“Too bad I fell asleep out here,” Alice said, not even looking up from the book of Islamic poetry Asim had sent her.  “Make sure you’re back before the morning bell.” 

Lucy bent down and put her hand on Alice’s shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze of thanks.  It was all very dark but Lucy knew the way as she crept down a narrow flight of stairs at the end of the hallway to the supply closet on the second storey.  Usually she used the room for sneaking in and out of the school as it had a window that opened out next to a large, sturdy apple tree. 

With the weather, she settled tonight for opening the window and letting the rain and cold wind in.  She leaned out the window, opened her arms and the storm carried away her cries.  She was so tired of fighting, but to give in was as good as giving up.  Lucy couldn’t do that.

I fought in an Army.  I trained hardened soldiers.  I ran with Wolves.   I sailed to the End of the World.  I am a Queen.  I was a man’s wife.  I hear the voices of my Dead.  I belong to Aslan.

I did not tolerate hatred and bigotry before.  I will not now.  I will not be silenced.

Ever. 

I am the only sane person in a building of hypocrites.

She knew that was not fair.  There were good people, like Alice, Marjorie, and Jane, Nurse, and Mrs. Park.  There were just precious few of them, and they were all as powerless as she.  Lucy sniffed and the rain mingled with her tears. 

It was rotten of her to ask.  There was a war.  Things were more important than one woman’s misery in beastly school.  Still, she would not presume to make the decision for him.    If you can come, Asim, I would welcome it.

And that was all she needed to do, and immediately felt better for it.  Aslan had heard her plea, and so would Asim.  If he could come, he would.  If he could not, she would receive a letter in a few days.

With that she had to be content. 

Lucy stayed at the open window and sang to the tree that bent in the wind to her listen to her voice.  When she began hearing stirrings in the school that were not the footfalls of mice, she shut the window and crept back to her bed.

She endured another day and then a short note arrived at breakfast. 

I must acquire provisions first.  Look for me at the end of the week.

The prospect of an adventure with Asim kept Lucy in class – though not especially attentive.  Nothing could keep her in chapel and she endured a caning for that disobedience.  She just gritted her teeth and suffered through it and the lecture about her wickedness. 

Friday came and was on its way to leaving.  Something was also approaching. 

Aslan?

Yes, my Lioness, your friend is coming.

There was an odd tone to his voice not normally present.  You sound as if you do not approve, Aslan.

The Lion’s sigh ruffled her hair even as she sat to lunch across from Marjorie and Jane.  It was boiled carrot and potato soup.  Again.

I do not.  But I do understand and do not blame either of you.  Have care, which you may not, but which my most searching brother, Asim, will. 

It’s why were so well-matched, she told the Lion, smiling in spite of herself. 

“You have been in better spirits,” Jane said, interrupting her. 

Marjorie nudged Jane in the ribs.  “Over there.”

Lucy felt the warmth on her back and immediately jumped up from the dining room bench, already knowing who waited for her.

“She knows without even turning around,” Marjorie said.

Major al-Masri – he usually dressed as the Major when he visited to get by Headmistress Blockhead – was in the dining room foyer, talking to Alice.  Lucy grabbed her coat and hurried to them.  She didn’t need anything else, surely; Asim had said he was taking care of the provisions.

“Hello, Major!” Lucy cried, pushing her way by everyone else who, by now, mostly ignored the man. 

He was better now about not wincing when he saw her.

“Good afternoon, Miss Pevensie.”  He made a show of patting his pocket.  “I have some news for you from your brother and sister.”

Alice snorted.  “Just make sure you sign out with the office if you won’t be back by curfew.”

Lucy felt a crush of disappointment when Major al-Masri said, “I do not believe this will take long.”  Gravely he nodded to Alice.  “Will you excuse us?”

“Sure,” Alice said.  “And thanks for the books.”

Expectations dashed, Lucy dejectedly followed Asim to the visitors’ lounge.  “I thought you said…”

“Please wait, Lucy,” he said quietly. 

She glanced at him, now curious for Asim seemed oddly excited, which was not his natural state at all.

He courteously held the door open and Lucy went into the lounge; Asim carefully looked up and down the hall before shutting the door firmly. 

“Yes?” she asked.

“I have something to show you.”

With very great, even exaggerated, care, he put his hand into his jacket pocket and withdrew an envelope.  Gingerly, he lifted the flap and held it open for her. 

“Don’t touch,” he warned.

Lucy leaned forward and never could she recall being so shocked.   “Oh!”

Two rings, one bright green, one bright yellow, were nestled in the envelope.  They hummed softly, enticingly, invitingly.

“You may not travel to Narnia,” Asim said.  “But there are other places to which we might go and still have you back in time for your curfew.”