Helen Lauson. The auburn haired, pointy eared girl from the countryside.
Peter Pevensie. The blonde, blue eyed boy from the city.
The Prophesied King and the Edon Queen; one might just call it fate, that the King fell for the Queen. This is the tale...
Hello and Welcome! Chridhe is finally here :D It's my pleasure to (finally) begin the road this fic will follow, it was written a while ago and promptly procrastinated upon, so my sincerest apologies for that! As always, constructive criticism, general comments and votes are always greatly appreciated!
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"Professor, I'm going to head out again!" The voice of Helen Lauson filled the countryside mansion; she was around fifteen or sixteen, and a bit odd in appearance. Of course, it was difficult to tell what set her apart. At first glance, she appeared normal enough; long reddish-brown hair that seemed to burn in the sunlight, a bit short for her age but still curvy, dainty hands and a wicked smile. She was the kind of beautiful you couldn't look away from, but the longer you watched her, the more odd she became. Her beauty became otherworldly, there was an eternal youth that seemed to echo in her features, the high cheekbones and wide eyes adding to the young appearance, although the mischief that seemed to dance in her eyes and in the corners of her mouth gave hint to the brilliant mind that she hid within. But what was, perhaps, most strange of all, were her ears. With her hair almost always braided back and out of her face, and her bangs not quite long enough to hide them, the delicate points set her apart from the normal. But in that countryside mansion, she was home. Of course, it wasn't her only home, but the Professor and Mrs. Macready were always welcoming despite her oddities.
"Alright dear, we wish you the best upon your return. Do be careful!" The elderly man waved her off, already used to the frequent disappearances of the girl for what seemed to be hours on end. With that, the girl darted out of the mansion's front doors, the grand wood slamming behind her. Wincing, she sighed to herself as she imagined the scolding that was sure to await her upon her return. With a shrug, she pushed her bangs back over her forehead before letting them fall back in place, deciding that it would be a problem for future Helen to deal with. Wandering down the familiar path to the woods, one that was well trekked though none besides she ever walked it, Helen waited for the familiar pull of Aslan's magic, for it to bring her to her second home.
She didn't wait long, as by the time she had reached the very beginning of the forest, the wood around her swirled, and the environment gradually became cooler as frost began to gather under foot and the whispers of pines filled her ears. With a brilliant laugh, Helen spun around in a little circle as she danced amongst the Western Woods of Narnia. With the self-assuredness of one who's traveled a certain path a thousand times over, she began the journey to the Shuddering Wood. The walk was quiet, with only the trees to keep her company. Helen listened attentively as they spoke to her, whispering of all she had missed in the two decades that she had been away in England. "The Witch has advanced, she's taken the Great River and is making for Beruna. The forces have been greatly depleted, the peace with the wolves has come to an end, they've defected to the Witch's ranks. We're greatly relieved to have you back, General."
Helen smiled, brushing the trunks of the trees in thanks, before her expression turned solemn. "How many have we lost to the beyond?" There were saddened shudders as the foliage began to recount the names, darkness falling around them as the winter sun dipped below the horizon. "Orlan, brother of Oreius, has joined the ancestors, Fleamont and Euphemia with him, leaving their twins orphaned. The boys have been taken in by the old badgers, so they'll be alright in the long run. The Racoon family was nearly wiped out a little over a decade ago, the youngest daughter is still serving, though her older brother has retired from the front line efforts. The Naiads are still lost to us under the ice, much of the Owlwood Dryads were burnt away in an outreaching flank, we've regained the territory and begun replanting but the souls have traveled to Aslan's Country." The list of lost souls went on, and Helen felt her heart ache at all those who had passed in her absence.
