Narnia: The Fallen Angel

01 || Professor's Mansion

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Mrs Macready led the Pevensie children into the vast mansion of Professor Kirke, a historian who lives in the countryside. His home was filled with historic artifacts, all ranging from decades to centuries old. Some were armors, others were more exotic such as clay pots from Egypt. An animal head in particular scared the youngest child, Lucy Pevensie. The sight of the large deer head made her subconsiously grip her older sister's coat tighter. Susan glanced down at her in question, but Mrs Macready began to speak before she could ask Lucy what was wrong. "There are some rules which I would like to discuss," The housekeeper began, turning around to meet their gaze with a stern one.

"There will be no running, or shouting! No improper use of the dumbwaiter, no touching of the artifacts, and no disturbing of the professor. Understood?" She clipped, her thin brow raised into a high arch as she awaited the childrens' response. Instead of replying they simply nodded, finding it impossible to muster up an answer with her penetrating stare and stone hard demeanor. Surprisingly, a ghost of a smile grew on her face before turning to face the stairs. "Good... now come along, I will lead you to your rooms."

They followed with their luggage in hand up the stairs and into multiple corridors until they finally reached the hallway where the guest rooms are. The hall was littered with more artifacts and large paintings on the wall, the only thing they will be able to use to distinguish which room is theirs. All of the doors looked exactly the same; dark wood, contrasting the pale walls of the hallway. Lucy tugged on Susan's sweater, making her look down at her younger sister. "Are all of these bedrooms?" She whispered, her large doe eyes staring curiously up at Susan's gentle blue ones. Susan pursed her lips momentarily before shrugging. "I suppose so," She whispered back before turning to continue to walk.

Lucy sighed quietly, looking down at the dark wooden floorboards as she walked on, her thoughts trailing to her mother. Their mother sent off the children to the countryside to protect them from the German air raids that have been infultrating England. Their father was off fighting in the war, somewhere with the Royal Air Force. All of them always had their father's wellbeing lingering in the back of their minds. Yet, they never pestered each other about it, never vocalized their worries. They didn't need to, for their smiling façades was enough to show that he was always on their mind. It worried Lucy that now her mother was all alone in Finchley withstanding the imminent danger that came every night.

"Now," Mrs Macready's voice began, interrupting Lucy's train of thought. She rose her head, looking up at Mrs Macready as she stood before a dark wooden door, much like the color of the floorboards. "This is the room of the girls, and the room there," She pointed to the room directly across from the girl's room. "Is the boys room. Now, bedtime is at eight thirty sharp every evening; no later. Breakfast is at eight in the morning, Lunch is an hour before noon, and supper is at four. Be punctual; if you come late, you will have cold food so I suggest you come on time. That is all, you may settle in," she finished before walking off, leaving the kids at the door of their rooms.

"She scares me," Edmund muttered. "Crazy old loot."

"Ed, that's rude." Susan scolded her younger brother, glaring at him momentarily.

"As if it matters," He muttered under his breath lowly and rolled his brown eyes mindlessly. Peter forced back the urge to yell at him, choosing to give him a stern look. Edmund noticed his older brother's expression, and with a loud huff he grabbed his luggage and stormed into his room. The door slams loudly behind him, causing Lucy to wince visibly and inch closer to Susan.