❝ there was a difference between living and existing, and for the first time, phoebe felt like she was living. and wasn't that a marvellous thing?❞
[book 1]
in which a boy calls a girl irrelevant, but somehow manages to fall in love with her anyway...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✳︎
Unlike the beavers' earlier claims, beyond the river, there really wasn't all that much walking to do. It wasn't long before Phoebe could hear shouting, clashing swords, and trumpet fanfares. Barely any time after that, tents began to poke up, higher than the trees, flags standing tall as they flapped in the wind. The camp was far larger than Phoebe had ever imagined it would be.
She could see Lucy admiring the largest tent (presumably Aslan's) with a kind of wide-eyed, childlike wonder. The fabric was red and gold, moving softly in the surprisingly warm wind. Better yet, snow didn't even grace the ground or the trees at Aslan's camp. It was all simply bare earth and bare trees. It must've been Aslan's doing.
As they walked through the entryway into the camp, whispers began to swarm them. They were small at first, but they grew and grew. People - well, not really people, more like animals and centaurs and everything else Phoebe thought you could only find in fairy tales - were looking at them. Their eyes were almost as wide and round as a dinner plate.
Phoebe could only assume it was for the Pevensies. After all, the prophecy called for them. At least, she hoped it was for them. All the stares, the whispers, the attention. It made her skin crawl. She wasn't used to this. She half hoped she wouldn't have to deal with it again.
"Why are they all staring at us?" Susan's voice was quiet, a question meant only for their little group. "We aren't that amazing." Phoebe laughed slightly, as did Peter and Lucy.
"Maybe they think you look funny." Lucy was smiling widely up at her sister, who gave her a mock glare. Phoebe couldn't help but smile at the two sisters. She wondered whether they were simply giddy because all the walking was over (Phoebe knew she was incredibly grateful not to have to walk for another ten miles, or whatever it had been).
"Play nice, Lu," Phoebe said, laughing still at the younger girl, "That bow on Susan's shoulder looks dangerous." Lucy made a ridiculously over exaggerated face of shock and horror, while Susan just giggled to herself.
"I've got a dagger," Lucy stated proudly, "She doesn't have a chance!" Lucy's 'power stance' just made the two older girls laugh harder, and Phoebe could've sworn she heard a little bit of laughter coming from Peter on her right. Looking over to him, she saw the last little bit of a smile on his face.
"Stop your fussing, you lot." Mrs. Beaver's voice was filled with mirth. "Lucy, no death threats to your sister. Susan, stop trying to fix your hair, you look lovely." She sounded like a mother fretting over her children. There was an inherent warmth about the way she spoke, and Phoebe delighted in it.
Phoebe noticed they were drawing closer to the end of the packed dirt path. She made an effort to compose herself - even if it didn't work, at least she could say she'd tried. Suddenly, a large horse stepped out on to the path, stopping them all in their tracks. Wait, no. It wasn't a horse. Looking up, Phoebe could see the torso of a man. It was a centaur. She'd gotten used to the beavers and their chatter long ago, but centaurs were another matter entirely.
