The Guardian of Narnia

IX

Elvira had originally thought she would need to transform in front of Cynthia, to shut her up. This, however, was a much more serious matter. He was planning to seduce the Gentle Queen.

Crossbows were locked and ready.

"STOP!" Peter yelled and ran in front of Narnia's Guardian. The room was silent.

"This is Elvira. The Guardian of Narnia. And you!" he pointed to a crossbow holder, "and you," he did the same to another, "Were about to shoot her!"

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Elvira said behind him.

"Just change back," he hissed harshly. She nodded and transformed back into the girl in the Midnight dress.

"Excuse us. Continue the festivities," he said. He held onto Elvira's arm and began to drag her.

"I am no longer an animal, Peter, my arm is not a chain!" she said, yanking her arm out of his grip. She followed him out from the ballroom, wavering music soon coming out of the windows and doors again.

"Before you say a word, Peter, your sister was getting acquainted with the wrong sort," she said.

"Elaborate," he said, folding his arms.

"Some man got a little too friendly with Susan. He aggravated me and... well, you know what happened next," she explained.

"Against her will?"

"He was too close. He wanted to seduce her, it was plain in anyone's eyes."

"There was no need-"

"Oh, there was every need-"

"Don't answer me back-"

"I can do what I like! Without me, you are nothing! Your brother would have been a statue in the palace of the White Witch who would have killed the rest of you. Think about your sisters. Susan, Lucy. Statues on a frozen wasteland next to the rest of Narnia!"

"ENOUGH! I AM THE KING! YOU LISTEN TO ME!" He was taller than Elvira now and towered over her.

"You are still a child," she said, quieter.

"And you are no longer Guardian!" She simply looked at him.

"You don't have the privilege of helping Narnia," he said. She stood back.

"Narnia? Narnia is dead. And it is your fault," she said and spat on the ground.

SMACK!

Her face tore the air, as the High King of Narnia's hand struck her cheek. She stalked off.

"Good luck, Your Majesty of soon-to-be a barren wasteland," she said.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" he yelled. Elvira transformed, let out a massive roar and ran. She did not cry. She just ran. She let away her horse, who ran back home. She ran to where Aslan went. She stayed there. For 1300 years.

Sorry, it's quite short for such a long wait. It's a kind of connector chapter between the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe and Prince Caspian. I made Peter quite harsh to her, just to make the next few chapters work.

Keep reading!

HBW

xxx