Journey of Trust | A Narnian Story

Deleted Scene III | Trumpkin's Welcome

This scene would have been set around the arrival of the Dawn Treader in Cair Paravel, Narnia.

As soon as word reaches him the Dawn Treader was spotted at the horizon, the Regent of Narnia gathers the papers on the desk and rises. Glancing over at the larger desk by the bay windows, relief floods his heart. He never could sit at the king's desk, refusing to "replace" Caspian. Instead, he chose to have another placed in the study – one more suitable for his size, anyways. Now, his feet carry him to the windows overlooking the bay and the ocean as far as the horizon. There, between the foaming waves, a majestic ship edges closer. Gold shimmers the dragon head at its bow – duller than it left, of course. He can't imagine what the Dawn Treader and her crew have seen, which shores they have found, what adventures they have had. Trumpkin's heart swells at the prospect of finally seeing his friends again and the weight of a country on his shoulders lessens – he can soon return it to its rightful bearer.

A few hours later, Trumpkin has overseen to preparations of a welcome fit for a beloved king, he makes his way towards the White Bridge. He has already glimpsed the caravan. The thought of their arrival hastens his steps. Glenstorm gallops towards him to join the welcome committee. The centaur nods at the dwarf as they take their posts by the bridge piers. There, the caravan moves up the hill, eliciting cheers and excited giggles from the crowd of nobles, servants, maids and soldiers gathering along the street to the palace. However, their joy halts as Lord Captain Drinian comes into view, not King Caspian. Trumpkin's brow furrows and he exchanges a glance with Glenstorm. The general straightens, hands tightening around his sword belt.

Aslan, the red dwarf shakes his head to clear his thoughts before stepping forth. His eyes wander over the caravan. Both, the faces of the crew of the Dawn Treader and the people accompanying them since the harbour, are grave. He makes out a few familiar faces but searches for two yet to appear in his decreasing eyesight. Shortly before Drinian reaches the regent, he spots the king. He and Orion – however the boy found his place there, it shouldn't surprise him – flank a stretcher. Trumpkin's chest tightens. The lassie's pale face takes him by complete surprise, it frightens him. What, by all cobbles and kettledrums, happened?! His shaking hand grip the pommel of his short sword while the other sinks into his pocket. Dire seems the hour which should have been nothing but joyful. Much is to be talked about, but it must wait, Trumpkin understands so much as his gaze meets Drinian's. They exchange a nod and the dwarf steps aside to wait for the king and fall into step with him.

An almost forced greeting is exchanged – it feels so wrong, Trumpkin can't help but think, walking slowly by the Crown Shield's side. She should stand by her king, leading this march under cheers and hurrahs from the people. Smiling, taking in their restored home, re-joining the ranks of soldiers and her Shadows. His face grow grim as he looks upon his friends. From the way he carries himself alone he can tell, Caspian changed. Changed, as the ship which carried them – all of them surely are different from when they set out. Trumpkin knew the King of Narnia planned to be away for at least a year and a day and as that time came to pass only a week ago, he found himself wondering. First preparations were made without him needing to say much on the matter. He also knew it would change everyone partaking in this adventure. Now, however, he fears the change to be greater than anyone anticipated and longs for Dr Cornelius' arrival from his dwelling in Beruna. How changed Caspian and all of them are, is to be determined and Trumpkin rather the old professor is around for it.