❝she'd gone from being irrelevant to being unavoidable, and what wouldn't peter give just to see her one more time❞
[book 2]
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good people always get second chances.
at least, that was what aslan had told phoebe the last time she'd seen him. no...
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✳︎
The majority of their journey passed by Phoebe in an odd sort of daze. Trudging through the forest, lost in her own thoughts, unable to really see properly as the sun set further. She could at least say that the stars were beautiful. There was nothing quite like the stars in Narnia.
She, Caspian, and all the others had arrived at some strange stone structure which rose up from a field of low, swaying grass. The strange sight seemed otherworldly, almost as if it didn't belong in the field where it stood. They'd been ushered in under torchlight by the small group of centaurs, the flickering light bouncing off the walls in strange formations, pockets of deep shadow resting in the corners of each room.
They weren't given a tour so much as they were simply herded to their respective rooms - Caspian first, Phoebe second. They navigated the halls in silence, and chills swept up Phoebe's arms every few seconds, despite the obvious lack of wind. It was eerie, to say the least. The centaurs didn't bother to light the torches in her room, knowing full well that she would likely fall asleep the moment she hit her bed. Still, the darkness was unnerving, and the entire room had that smell of underground - musty, damp darkness. At least there was some furniture, although Phoebe would've expected something more well-endowed for their base of operations.
Even so, the centaurs' assumptions were correct, for Phoebe's only immediate action upon arriving at her room was to fall down on the bed. She drifted asleep remarkably quickly, lost in a sea of thoughts about battle and the Pevensies. So, the dark claimed her rather quickly, and Phoebe slipped into sleep.
✳︎
She woke - or at least, she thought she woke - in a place far from where she'd fallen asleep. Phoebe cracked her eyes open to see that she now lay in a small woodland clearing, the sunlight warming her as she lay amongst the grass and leaves. Tree branches swayed around her, and she could've sworn there was a different sort of warmth in the air. A magic sort of warmth, the kind she hadn't felt in Narnia since she'd been there with the Pevensies. The breeze was soft, brushing softly against her, almost as though it was a gentle, caressing hand.
Phoebe pushed herself up off the forest floor, reaching up to rub her head. She couldn't help it, she was thoroughly confused. Was this some sort of dream? Had she managed to sleepwalk all the way here with anyone raising the alarm? She honestly didn't have a clue, and she found that rather concerning. She stood on shaking limbs and heard a few of her joints crack. The trees still swayed rhythmically around her, but the warm wind picked up, pushing against her back. Petals swirled in the air, almost as if there were dryads around, but Phoebe knew that was an impossibility. The trees had retreated into themselves long ago.
Still, the wind pushed and pushed at her back, and she heard a strange creaking noise, looking forward to see the trees ahead of her moving. They parted in a uniform fashion, creating a shaded path. Phoebe furrowed her brow, confusion getting the better of her. This had to be some strange dream. There was no way this could be real. The wind did not ease, it only increased, blowing Phoebe's hair into her face. Hesitantly, she took a few steps forward, and the wind became lighter. She stopped, and the wind blew stronger. She supposed she had to move forwards, so Phoebe began to walk down the path made by the parted trees. Phoebe could've sworn she heard the sounds of branches snapping around her, but every time she looked she saw nothing.
