Chapter 17 : Spare Oom
[Years Later]
I pull at Castor's reins halting him to a light trot as a breeze runs through my hair, the sun filters through the leaves and leaves a warm presence on anything it touches.
Edmund halts Philip to a stop beside me, and I do a double take. It still shocks me how tall he's grown, and how masculine he looks.
"You alright there Philip?" Edmund asks him, stroking his nose.
"Not as young as I used to be." The horse sighs and I trot over to stroke Philip's head.
"Come on Ed." Susan says, stopping next to us two with a teasing glint in her eyes.
"Just catching my breath." Edmund replies and Lucy trots over, deciding to join the conversation.
"What did they say, Ella?" Lucy asks me teasingly.
"You girls stay at the castle, I'll go
get the stag myself." I say imitating Peter, he pulls a face as he stops his horse next to us.
"I do not sound like that."
"You do too!" I protest as he leans over to kiss my cheek.
He looks behind me then, his eyebrows furrowing when he notices something. I turn Castor around to get a better look.
"What's that?" He asks and we all dismount our horses, walking up to the ivy covered, tall piece of black metal, my eyes drifting up until it meets dirty glass.
"It seems like a dream..." I say, recalling something like this faintly, as I touch the icy curled around it.
"Or a dream of a dream..." Lucy agrees, pausing for a moment before her eyes widen. "Spare Oom." she announces, running off in a southern direction.
"Not again." Peter huffs and I follow after Lucy, picking up my skirts so I don't trip.
"They're always running off." I hear Edmund sigh.
"These aren't branches..." I tell Lucy as we continue to press on, Peter, Susan and Edmund are now at our heels, after we allowed them time to catch up.
"They're coats." She replies and we continue forward.. I feel someone nudge me and cry out.
"Stop pushing." I say, my voice muffled from the fur coats.
"Don't step on my toes!" I hear Edmund cry, his voice younger and boyish.
"Someone touched my back!" I hear Susan help before the wardrobe door flies open and, with a collective cry of surprise, we all tumble into the floor outside it.
The door to the room opens and Granddad walks in, holding the cricket ball in his old, worn hands.
*
wow, my writing was pretty lame.
i'm glad it's gotten better since then.
lina x
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Chronicles Of Narnia : The Lost Queen
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