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lady_songsmithToday was more typing up of NaNo longhand. Among the scenes I got typed were all three of the "setting off to rescue X" bits. They're interesting, as a set, so here, have (rather fragmentary) setting off on the quest snippets:
“What were you really thinking about?”
Edmund double-checked the saddle girth, not meeting his brother’s eyes. “You’re certain you want to know?”
“If you know something that might affect Susan...” Peter slid Rhindon into place and rested his hand on the hilt, rubbing a thumb over the lion’s head absently.
“You’re right.” He stopped his needless fiddling with straps and buckles and looked up at Peter. “What Lucy said, about northern witches?”
“That there’s one every generation?”
“Yes.” He set his jaw, face grim. “I did some reading, after. I wanted to understand… There are lots of stories about witches in Narnian lore. The thing is, if you read them as a body? You start to get the impression there’s only one witch, immortal, testing Narnia’s defenses time after time by different means.”
Peter sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “You think —”
“I think there’s only been one.” Edmund looked at him with a contrivedcalm, and Peter saw the old wounds in his brother’s dark eyes. “After what the Professor told us, I’m even more certain. Narnia wasn’t exactly meant to have witches... and she was immortal.”
Peter wasn’t at all certain what to say to that. Fortunately Edmund didn’t seem to expect an answer. He just put out his hand, pulling Peter into a hug when he clasped it. “Go safely, brother, and walk warily.”
“I shall,” Peter promised, swinging into the saddle. “Look after her for me.”
“Like my own, naturally.”
Oreius found him already in the midst of packing. “Don’t even try to talk me out of it,” Edmund ordered, tucking a weapons kit into his pack.
“I would not.” He plucked a tunic from the young king’s pack, replacing it with a heavier one. He recalled Edmund had taken chill easily until his growth had ended and he’d begun to bulk out. “I was going to offer to accompany you.”
Edmund paused in his frenetic activity, finally seeming to notice the centaur filling his tent. “I wish you could,” he admitted. “There’s no one I’d rather have with me. But Narnia needs you here — if I leave the negotiations, Evrath will undoubtedly think something’s wrong, and test our forces.” He raked a hand through his hair, agitated. “It can’t be helped, though. I’ll make my apologies in the morning, give them some excuse… Hopefully that’ll buy us time.”
“I understand.” And he did; he didn’t like it, but he knew duty was rarely a question of liking. “But—” he paused long enough to catch and hold his king’s attention. “Narnia needs you, as well.”
“Narnia needs all of us,” Edmund answered grimly. “I’ll go pull Peter out of whatever mess he’s landed himself in this time, and we’ll find Susan together. You always did say we were unstoppable when we worked together.” A quick hint of a grin flickered out of the grim expression.
“So I did, and do.” Oreius nodded. “You will be watchful and wary.” It was not a question, and approached something of his teaching tone.
Edmund responded to it as expected, straightening his shoulders and giving him a sharp nod, even while the grin bloomed into full life. “I will, sir.”
“Good. Who will you take?”
“I thought (faun) and (satyr). And I’ll want some hunting Beasts — some of the Cats, perhaps. I’d rather move quick and light; hopefully it’ll be better to avoid whatever trouble Peter found.”
“I will speak to them for you.” He caught his king’s hand before Edmund could add another shirt to the bag. “Pack warmer.”
Edmund blinked, then flashed that grin again. “Yes, General.”
(and a little bit later)
“Try to keep Lucy calm. I know, it’s a rotten thing to ask of you, and she’ll be wild to come after us, but the work she’s doing is more important. I’d like to have a Narnia to come home to.”
“I shall try.” He sounded doubtful, and Edmund didn’t blame him. “I am uncertain how persuasive I can be by letter.”
“Oh, I expect she’ll be here within the week.” He swung into the saddle. “Don’t let Erath know she’s in a fluster, if you can help it.”
“I am overwhelmed by your confidence in me, my king,” Oreius said dryly, and Edmund laughed.
“Yes, perhaps I do ask miracles of you. But you have never failed us before.” He offered his arm to the centaur; they were more of a height now that he was mounted but it was odd to be looking so far up at Oreius again.
The general clasped his arm firmly. “I will do what I can,” he promised. “Hurry home.”
“As swiftly as I may.”
“Now, listen,” Lucy said firmly, sitting up very straight and trying to will them to see a twenty-six year old queen rather than an eleven year old girl, “the others need me. And yes, I do think they need me and not a party of Narnians, however capable. Why else would Aslan have told Peter about the witch? If anyone could deal with her, surely he would have spoken to one of you long since.”
“I was prepared to believe that when the High King set out,” Oreius rumbled, “and to keep King Edmund from going to his brother’s aid would be —”
“I assure you, General, you will have as difficult a time preventing me.”
“I do not doubt it, my queen,” he answered feverently. “But I beg you to consider that the Lion’s purpose in recalling you may be that you might rule, and you cannot do that as the witch’s prisoners.”
“Oreius is right,” Tumnus urged gently. “We will rescue your family, Lucy, of course we will. But we need you here. If you all vanish again —”
“Then you will be no worse off than you were a month ago, and at least you will know what happened to us.” She might have been kinder to stab them, by the naked pain in both faces, and she softened her tone immediately. “I’m sorry. But I can’t sit by while my family is in danger. I am going after them. I’d rather go with your blessing, but if I have to sneak off, I will. And don’t think you’ll catch me — I may look little, but I remember every trick.”
“You were difficult enough to keep track of when you were ten,” Tumnus muttered to himself, and she responded with a smile learned from growing up surrounded by Cats.
“What were you really thinking about?”
Edmund double-checked the saddle girth, not meeting his brother’s eyes. “You’re certain you want to know?”
“If you know something that might affect Susan...” Peter slid Rhindon into place and rested his hand on the hilt, rubbing a thumb over the lion’s head absently.
“You’re right.” He stopped his needless fiddling with straps and buckles and looked up at Peter. “What Lucy said, about northern witches?”
“That there’s one every generation?”
“Yes.” He set his jaw, face grim. “I did some reading, after. I wanted to understand… There are lots of stories about witches in Narnian lore. The thing is, if you read them as a body? You start to get the impression there’s only one witch, immortal, testing Narnia’s defenses time after time by different means.”
Peter sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “You think —”
“I think there’s only been one.” Edmund looked at him with a contrivedcalm, and Peter saw the old wounds in his brother’s dark eyes. “After what the Professor told us, I’m even more certain. Narnia wasn’t exactly meant to have witches... and she was immortal.”
Peter wasn’t at all certain what to say to that. Fortunately Edmund didn’t seem to expect an answer. He just put out his hand, pulling Peter into a hug when he clasped it. “Go safely, brother, and walk warily.”
“I shall,” Peter promised, swinging into the saddle. “Look after her for me.”
“Like my own, naturally.”
Oreius found him already in the midst of packing. “Don’t even try to talk me out of it,” Edmund ordered, tucking a weapons kit into his pack.
“I would not.” He plucked a tunic from the young king’s pack, replacing it with a heavier one. He recalled Edmund had taken chill easily until his growth had ended and he’d begun to bulk out. “I was going to offer to accompany you.”
Edmund paused in his frenetic activity, finally seeming to notice the centaur filling his tent. “I wish you could,” he admitted. “There’s no one I’d rather have with me. But Narnia needs you here — if I leave the negotiations, Evrath will undoubtedly think something’s wrong, and test our forces.” He raked a hand through his hair, agitated. “It can’t be helped, though. I’ll make my apologies in the morning, give them some excuse… Hopefully that’ll buy us time.”
“I understand.” And he did; he didn’t like it, but he knew duty was rarely a question of liking. “But—” he paused long enough to catch and hold his king’s attention. “Narnia needs you, as well.”
“Narnia needs all of us,” Edmund answered grimly. “I’ll go pull Peter out of whatever mess he’s landed himself in this time, and we’ll find Susan together. You always did say we were unstoppable when we worked together.” A quick hint of a grin flickered out of the grim expression.
“So I did, and do.” Oreius nodded. “You will be watchful and wary.” It was not a question, and approached something of his teaching tone.
Edmund responded to it as expected, straightening his shoulders and giving him a sharp nod, even while the grin bloomed into full life. “I will, sir.”
“Good. Who will you take?”
“I thought (faun) and (satyr). And I’ll want some hunting Beasts — some of the Cats, perhaps. I’d rather move quick and light; hopefully it’ll be better to avoid whatever trouble Peter found.”
“I will speak to them for you.” He caught his king’s hand before Edmund could add another shirt to the bag. “Pack warmer.”
Edmund blinked, then flashed that grin again. “Yes, General.”
(and a little bit later)
“Try to keep Lucy calm. I know, it’s a rotten thing to ask of you, and she’ll be wild to come after us, but the work she’s doing is more important. I’d like to have a Narnia to come home to.”
“I shall try.” He sounded doubtful, and Edmund didn’t blame him. “I am uncertain how persuasive I can be by letter.”
“Oh, I expect she’ll be here within the week.” He swung into the saddle. “Don’t let Erath know she’s in a fluster, if you can help it.”
“I am overwhelmed by your confidence in me, my king,” Oreius said dryly, and Edmund laughed.
“Yes, perhaps I do ask miracles of you. But you have never failed us before.” He offered his arm to the centaur; they were more of a height now that he was mounted but it was odd to be looking so far up at Oreius again.
The general clasped his arm firmly. “I will do what I can,” he promised. “Hurry home.”
“As swiftly as I may.”
“Now, listen,” Lucy said firmly, sitting up very straight and trying to will them to see a twenty-six year old queen rather than an eleven year old girl, “the others need me. And yes, I do think they need me and not a party of Narnians, however capable. Why else would Aslan have told Peter about the witch? If anyone could deal with her, surely he would have spoken to one of you long since.”
“I was prepared to believe that when the High King set out,” Oreius rumbled, “and to keep King Edmund from going to his brother’s aid would be —”
“I assure you, General, you will have as difficult a time preventing me.”
“I do not doubt it, my queen,” he answered feverently. “But I beg you to consider that the Lion’s purpose in recalling you may be that you might rule, and you cannot do that as the witch’s prisoners.”
“Oreius is right,” Tumnus urged gently. “We will rescue your family, Lucy, of course we will. But we need you here. If you all vanish again —”
“Then you will be no worse off than you were a month ago, and at least you will know what happened to us.” She might have been kinder to stab them, by the naked pain in both faces, and she softened her tone immediately. “I’m sorry. But I can’t sit by while my family is in danger. I am going after them. I’d rather go with your blessing, but if I have to sneak off, I will. And don’t think you’ll catch me — I may look little, but I remember every trick.”
“You were difficult enough to keep track of when you were ten,” Tumnus muttered to himself, and she responded with a smile learned from growing up surrounded by Cats.