𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 | ❝Hope is good, Hope will never disgrace, but make no mistake, Hope will hit you in the face!❞
In which the Just King becomes betrothed to a princess from a neighboring kingdom, only to fall in love with the prin...
WALKING IN THE WIND xi. EUSTACE SCRUBB ALMOST DESERVED IT
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THE NIGHTMARES FOUND HOPE last amongst her resilient crew.
Odette dreamed of her parents, Caspian his father. For the first time in a long, long time, Edmund could hear the White Witch's whispers again. Lucy woke up sobbing most nights, convinced she'd been erased from existence, never to know her family or Narnia or Aslan. It was much too easy for the mist to identify their weaknesses and feast upon them. Hope hardly put up a fight before the mist captured her, too.
Each dream began lost at sea, set on a mighty ship like the Dawn Treader, but with no company or crew to share the days with or even a sail. The mast was split, the air was still, and the night was infinite. She tried to guide the helm, but it moved on its own. Eventually, she landed in England, where she sought out the Pevensies, except they didn't know her. In fact, they cringed seeing her, grew disgusted when she reached out for them. Edmund's cruel laughter was the worst of them all. He'd push her away, and she was back on that boat, sailing back to Wysteria, where King David, Queen Lydia, Princess Odette and Prince Caspian starved and beat her before tossing her into the dungeons once they were bored of abusing her. She would rot there for the rest of eternity.
Waking on the Dawn Treader every day made it hard to remember that it was just a dream. A twisted, impossible nightmare. She reminded herself of the truth endlessly like it was religion.
Drinian had warned them this would happen back when there was still a chance of giving up on this quest, and they so stubbornly refused to turn back.
Even so, once the crew finally stumbled upon land again, Hope was the first to flee the Dawn Treader.
Each island was smaller, more lifeless than the last. Their next stop was a low-set island, only twenty acres or so in length, composed entirely of a sloped rocky summit. On the south side, the summit posed as a barrier to the unpredictable gales. There were no people, only seagulls, coarse grass, and heather. The lords couldn't have stopped upon this wasteland. And yet, they docked anyway.
The crew split onto two boats to conquer the bone-dry island. Reepicheep was perched at the apex of one, with Hope rowing behind him and Odette tracing her fingers along the waters' crests. She would rather take an arrow than allow splinters to infest her pretty palms. The callouses were annoying enough as is.
"I doubt the Lords stopped here, my lieges!" Reepicheep shouted. "There is no sign of anything living."
"Right," Caspian called from the other boat with the Pevensies. "Well, once we get to shore, Hope and Odette will take our men to search for food and water. The three of us will look for clues."
