#mod lailenah

[thenameofaslan]

TNOA’s 100 Verse Challenge - 9/100

“He is your praise; he is your God.” --  Deuteronomy 10:21a

[thenameofaslan]

TNOA’s 100 Verse Challenge - 79/100

Judges 5:31: “So may all your enemies perish, Lord! But may all who love you be like the sun when it rises in its strength.”

[thenameofaslan]

TNOA’s 100 Verse Challenge - 75/100

Proverbs 6:16-19~ “There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies, and a person who stirs up conflict in the community.”

[thenameofaslan]

TNOA 100 Verse Challenge- 23/100

The Seven Friends of Narnia and Matthew 18:20: "For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”

[thenameofaslan]

TNOA’s 100 Verse Challenge - 80/100

Joshua 2:14a “Our lives for your lives!”

“This will stop!”

Edmund, hearing the captain’s hoofbeats and voice echo down the hall, rose to his feet. He was still pale, one shoulder thicker than the other because of the swathing of bandages underneath his linen shirt. His brother and sisters had been gathered around him, talking softly, but now they all turned to face the captain.

“Don’t lecture him,” Susan said, “not now.”

Lucy didn’t speak, but she was in clear agreement, her eyes narrowed at him.

 “Don’t think I am only talking to King Edmund,” the faun said, wagging a finger at them. He wondered why this was falling to him rather than the High king’s advisor and second-in-command. Surely the centaur agreed with him, would see the wisdom in practicality? But you never could tell: a centaur’s sense of nobility was certainly beyond him. “You all are guilty, and you can’t keep risking yourselves like this. You are the king and queens of Narnia!”

“That is exactly why we risk ourselves,” Peter said, his arms crossed. “Of what value is a king who isn’t willing to give up his life for his people?”

“Or a queen,” added Lucy. Edmund and Susan nodded; during some unnoticeable point in their discussion, the four rulers had unconsciously shifted so they were now standing shoulder-to-shoulder, tall and firm in their agreement.

It was daunting.

While he would never, never dream of disobeying their orders or undermining their authority in front of others, upon first ascending to the throne they had been willing to heed some extra advice beyond that which a captain would usually give his king, even accept his scoldings with fond impatience and eye-rolls. He wasn’t elderly, but he did have quite a few years under his belt and liked to think that he had made the mistakes of his lifetime worthwhile by learning something from them. And while extraordinarily brave children, they had, after all, been...well, children.

Just a few short years later, and they didn’t look like children now. Or sound like them.

Humans grew up so fast. Or maybe he was just old after all.

He sighed. This selfless determination and loyalty were how the four children had first won his heart and the collective heart of Narnia, but it seemed that they were destined to give them a heart attack in the same way. 

It was right for a captain to sink with his ship, for a king to lead his country’s last, desperate charge in desperate times. But these weren’t tragic, dark times. A king shouldn’t be felled by a common hag with a common arrow while defending a common guardsman. The faun cherished the lives of each of his soldiers, grieved for each one when they fell, but without the king...

“Who would guide Narnia?” he asked desperately, spreading his hands out and offering a final plea.

“Aslan, as he always has and always will. He’ll provide,” Edmund said. 

He spluttered. “Yes, of course! I certainly would never imply otherwise, your majesties, but--”

“I do know what you mean. We don’t want to worry you,” Edmund said, quieting him instantly. “We won’t hesitate to give our lives for yours, but neither will we be foolish.”

Our lives for yours--that was supposed to be his line, his guards’ and soldiers’ line. Their heartbeat. He wished that their Majesties would not turn it back on them and would limit the giving of their lives to the hours and devotion channeled into championing the Narnians in policy and trade.

“No foolish risks I can promise,” Peter agreed, drawing him out of his thoughts.

 Like leaving the Queen Lucy’s cordial at Pair Caravel except for times of “great need”? Like not having it on hand for when an easy quest goes wrong and the king is shot? 

The captain decided not to voice this. The High King was very firm about the cordial. 

“We will make sure that one of us always stays out of battle,” Peter said, “so that all four thrones will never be empty.”

He was only slightly mollified by the High King finally displaying some good sense. His sense of duty rebelled against the idea of Peter, or Edmund, or Lucy possibly dying to save him when his sworn oath was to die for them, against the idea of leaving Narnia bereft and stealing her sovereigns’ lives from her when he had sworn to give all he had to serve her and see that she never lacked.

The others had already turned away, considering the matter settled, but Edmund--slumped back tiredly on his bench--saw the discomfort in his face.

“Captain,” he said quietly. “What else can I do? It was once His life for mine.”

“They told you?”

“I had gathered some. For a long time, my sisters had resolved not to tell me the rest, about what they saw that night. But eventually they decided I should know; Lucy had always thought so. I don’t feel guilt--He wouldn’t want me to, not now--only gratitude. But when He has done so much for me…”

“Our lives for yours,” the captain echoed the king’s words from earlier, his tone resigned and weary but finally accepting. 

King Edmund smiled, just a small quirk of his lip. 

He offered a silent bow to the king and thoughtfully went on his way. 

They were the furthest thing he could imagine from the Witch with her heart of ice and her wand of stone. The memories of how she would betray or sacrifice the very people she called herself queen over in less than a blink still turned his stomach. 

As much panic as the kings and queens might cause him with their nobleness and selfless devotion, deep down in his heart, he had to acknowledge that he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Although...just the tiniest hint of more instinct for protecting their own health and safety would not be amiss....

[thenameofaslan]

TNOA’s 100 Verse Challenge - 78/100

Genesis 15:1b “I am your shield, your very great reward.”

“Your guilt and sorrow have been felt, son of Adam. Feel them no longer. Go back now to your family.”

“Aslan...but the Witch?”

“Things that have not yet come to pass are not for you to know, my son. But know this: I will be your shield. Will you trust me?”

Although he still could see no way around the Witch’s claims, how could he not? How could he not believe that Voice that did not allow for disbelief, that was as warm and strong and firm as the sun? 

“Yes, Aslan.”

                                     ____________________

The wand. If he could only get to the Witch’s wand, she wouldn’t be able to turn any more of Peter’s troops to stone. 

He started to work his way towards her. His heart pounded faster. He thought of the roughness of rope pressing into his wrists, of the rasp of a knife, of the sweetness of sugar and dreadful selfishness on his tongue. 

Seeing her again, he was ashamed. Stupid boy, to have been taken in. Stupid boy, to have allowed his own selfish desires to blind him to what was good and right and worth fighting for. 

Seeing her again, he was afraid.

“Belongs to me....lawful prey...human creature is mine….”

His hands and arms slowed, resolve fading into stone as if the Witch had just pressed her wand against his heart.

Jadis turned her head from afar as he watched, as if sensing his thoughts. Edmund trembled. Her distant face flashed in and out of sight as various swords and soldiers were carried on waves of battle in and out of Edmund’s line of vision, but he could see the humorless, scornful smirk that crossed her lips. Useless, terrified boy. She turned away. 

A tiny voice inside his head, a whisper of a memory, said, “Things that have not yet come to pass are not for you to know, my son.”

My son.

My son.

He wasn’t hers. Not anymore.

The cold grip of terror on his heart eased.

A wild shout tore loose from Edmund’s throat, the cry not of a child, but of a warrior. His lungs were filled with the fresh air of Narnia, and his limbs were filled with strength. 

In the Beavers’ dam, the thought of Aslan had been nagging, unpleasant. In Aslan’s camp, walking to see Him with the chafing of Her ropes still on his wrists, the thought of Aslan had carried guilt and dread. Now, the thought of Aslan provided the courage, the determination, the hope that carried him ever closer to her, though three ogres tried and failed to stop him. 

A giant roared forward for revenge, his giant, spiked club swinging and goring his shield. Edmund gasped, staggering a step backward as his shield was yanked from his hands. He watched helplessly as the giant raised his club, the shield still hanging from one of the spikes…

And then an eagle was at the giant’s face, screeching and pecking and swiping with his talons. A centaur was suddenly in front of Edmund, raising his sword with one hand and shoving him out of the way with the other.

“Go, Son of Adam! We have this in hand,” the centaur bellowed.

Edmund ran, but his heart was once again quailing. The figure of the Witch grew closer and closer. What could he do against her? He’d never had a chance to begin with, but now he didn’t even have a shield…

Or did he?

I will be your shield. 

The Witch had her back turned to him when he reached her, hard at work turning Peter’s troops to stone. Terrified but clinging to the thought of his Shield, Edmund leapt forward, bringing his sword down on her wand with all his might.

CRAAAAACK.

The moment she turned to him, rising to her full height with waves of shock and wrath and hate flowing off her, he knew his chances of survival were slim. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Aslan.”

He looked down at the broken wand in her hand, then defiantly raised his eyes to meet hers. 

Trembling a little with exertion and adrenaline, he said with a hint of triumph, “That was for Aslan.”

Pain. Blinding pain. Dark. And then...peace. Rest. 

[thenameofaslan]

TNOA’s 100 Verse Challenge - 9/100

“He is your praise, and He is your God.” - Deuteronomy 10:21a

[thenameofaslan]

TNOA’s 100 Verse Challenge - 93/100

Isaiah 44:18- They know nothing, they understand nothing; their eyes are plastered over so they cannot see, and their minds closed so they cannot understand.

(Also inspired by C.S. Lewis’s The Screwtape Letters)

The others didn’t understand why Lucy had cried for the dwarves. They had seen the dwarves so determined to believe in their dark, dingy stable that they could not hear the bird song or see the breeze gently rustling the flowers or taste the feast before them, too, but they hadn’t understood her determination to help them. At the time, Lucy hadn’t been sure she understood herself.

“Their blindness,” came the deep Voice from behind her, so deep it rumbled in her chest and so gentle her heart ached. Oh, all these years, how she had missed that! She had found Him in her own world, by another name, as He had instructed her, but to be with Him in the flesh again, to hear His voice... “It reminded you of someone you love.”

Long ago, Lucy had learned that there was something both marvelous and terrifying about having her heart’s every thought and impulse known by another. Sometimes it had felt like a warm, comforting embrace; other times a blazing, blinding sun that made her want to hide from its gaze, to creep into a shadow in a silly attempt to hide the feelings she was most ashamed of.

Here, here in His country, her mind had been renewed. All guilt and unworthy thoughts were past. She had no reason to fear the brightness of the sun any longer. 

She turned away from the waterfall she had been watching absent-mindedly and felt the sight of Him fill her with joy and peace, despite her pensive thoughts. “It’s wonderful here, Aslan, but I can’t help but wish that Susan was here, too,” she confessed quietly. “She used to always say she preferred what was real, and not our silly games, but newspapers and lunches and coffee...they were the fairytale. Nothing is realer than this!”

“Your sister has shut her eyes as tightly as the dwarves,” Aslan said soberly. “The things of her world are her stable. Her belief in it keeps her from seeing the true wonders that could be hers.”

“If only we could have made her see...” Lucy said.  She closed her own eyes, feeling some of the cool drops from the waterfall’s spray land on her face.

“You and your brothers spoke to her of Narnia and of me, dear one,” Aslan said. “You did well. But her choice is her own. Your sister must decide to open her own eyes.”

“Is there as little hope for her as for the dwarves?” Lucy asked.

“Susan’s path to me will not be short or straight,” Aslan said. “But don’t despair of her, dearest. Never despair.”

   ___________________________________________________________

“...Your business is to fix his attention on the stream [of immediate sense experiences]. Teach him to call it ‘real life,’ and don’t let him ask what he means by ‘real’...You don’t realize how enslaved they are to the pressure of the ordinary...I showed him a newsboy shouting the midday paper, and a No.73 bus going past, and before he reached the bottom of steps  I had got him into an unalterable conviction that whatever odd ideas may come into a man’s head ...a healthy dose of ‘real life’ was enough to show him that all ‘that sort of thing’ just couldn’t be true.” - C.S.Lewis, the Screwtape Letters