Fearless • P. Pevensie

Remembrance

"Come on. We don't want to be caught out here after nightfall." The beaver shuffles forwards as he leads us to the little dam he's made. There's an archway built from the wood, supporting the rock. It's quite impressive, far more put-together than anything a beaver back home could make.

The rock faces surrounding the area would make it hard for anyone to even find this place. Not unless they knew it was here beforehand. The cliffs rise up higher than the trees in some places. The sun is hidden behind the tops of the cliffs, only letting faint streams of sunlight into the sort of grove we've been let into.

"Blimey! Looks like the old girl has got the kettle on." The beaver tells us, walking forewords as we approach a sort of hut. "Nice cup o' Rosy Lee." He mumbles.

Down in the valley, smoke pours out of a makeshift chimney. I can see light coming from inside of the hut. It itself is made from sticks and packed mud, almost like brick and mortar in the delicate ways it's been placed.

"It's lovely." Lucy compliments the beaver.

"Oh, it's merely a trifle, you know? Still plenty to do. Ain't quite finished it yet." Mr. Beaver tells us, before turning back to walk down into the valley. "It'll look the business when it is, though." He tells us.

We exchange looks, most of us having a smile on our faces as we do. He's quite the little guy, isn't he? He's got a charming personality at the very least.

The trip further into the valley isn't too difficult. But, as night approaches, the temperature begins to drop farther than I would've liked. We've still got to get back to the wardrobe in this weather.

I nearly slip on a bit of ice, which has started to form from the snow getting colder and colder, but Peter catches my arm and holds me steady. I reach out and grab a tree branch at the same time, before looking back to Peter.

"Thanks." I give him a small nod and a smile.

"Don't mention it." He nods, carefully letting go of me as we continue down the embankment towards the Beaver's house.

"Beaver, is that you? I've been worried sick!" A female's voice calls from inside of the hut. Another small creature emerges from inside of the home, making her way over to our Mr. Beaver. "If I find you've been out with Badger again, I'll-"

The beaver sees us, stopping her sentence at once.

I'm sure we're all the talk of the town by now. With Lucy coming in twice already, Edmund having came here. Plus the hour or so that the five of us have been here, it's no doubt half of Narnia knows we're here. We were told that even the trees are listening for us.

"Oh! Well, those aren't badgers." Mrs. Beaver states. Her face turns into a smile as she rushes out towards us, causing me to give Lucy a look. A silent ask of if this is what we're really doing. She gives me a smile, turning her attention back to the Beavers as I follow suit. "Oh, I never thought I'd live to see this day!"

See this day? As if she were expecting us already? Her words don't seem foreboding, however. Most like she was told that one day we would arrive. Which doesn't make any sense, not to me at least.

The beaver turns towards what I assume is her husband. "Look at my fur! You couldn't give me ten minutes warning?" She asks him.

"I'd have given you a week if I thought it would've helped."

I let out a slight laugh, noticing the others joining in as well. While they could still very much betray us, I doubt that they will. The pair seem to be more than happy to have us here. Their demeanors, behaviors. It wouldn't make sense for them to suddenly turn on us.