Daylight | 006—A Man In A Red Coat
Peter Pevensie x Fem!OC
Summary: The Pevensies' and Penny explore Narnia, meet Father Christmas and have a dangerous run-in with the White Witch's wolves...
Word Count: 4.1k Content/Warnings: fear, threat, near-drowning Gif Credits: @brandonlees (i did crop it to fit better tho) Author’s Note: hey! so sorry for the wait between chapters. my vertigo has unfortunately been worse since i last posted, but slowly, i’m starting to feel better. my goal with this fic is to have act one finished by the summertime, but beyond that i don’t know if i will be able to keep to a regular schedule, as act two will be all original content (set during the golden age), and i’m still getting the plot sorted. remember to like and comment, i love reading them! - auri
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CHAPTER SIX—A MAN IN A RED COAT
[ NARNIA, 1000 ]
IN THE EARLY MORNING SUN, Narnia looked even more beautiful than it had the day before. A vast land of forever crystallised bark and leaves, encased within a barrier of snow-covered rock with iced-over lakes refusing to melt, even under the winter sun. From their vantage point on the stone bridge, Narnia looked as big as England. A whole country stuffed inside the back of a wardrobe.
Mr Beaver pointed out toward the rising sun. "Now, Aslan's camp is near the Stone Table just across the frozen river."
Peter looked down at the small creatures. "River?"
"Is that safe?" Penny asked.
"Oh, the river's been frozen solid for a hundred years." Mrs Beaver tried to reassure the girl.
"It's so far!" Peter's shoulder slumped in disappointment.
Mrs Beaver shook her head. "It's the world, dear. Did you expect it to be small?"
Susan side-eyed her older brother. "Small-er"
IF PENNY HAD COUNTED CORRECTLY, the trek down the mountains and through the forest took roughly three and a half hours. In that time, she had shed her thick polar bear-esque fur, and even more strands of her hair had turned a bright copper orange. She felt almost feverish, her skin burning and blood boiling beneath the surface.
She was hot. So hot that when Susan placed her hands on the skin of her forearms to warm Penny up, she instead revelled in the heat emanating from the older girl despite the thick mounds of snow piled up all around them. None of them really understood how Penny was acting as a personal heater when they could hardly feel their toes hitting against the cap of their shoes.
"Are you feeling alright?" Peter had offered about an hour into their journey and again at two. "We can stop if you need a moment."
But Penny didn't want to stop, and she didn't need a moment. Truthfully, she had never felt more alive, more like herself, than being the only source of warmth in the middle of a blizzard.
The snow covering the frozen lake wasn't as thick as on the forest floor, but their shoes still left imprints. Penny trailed behind Lucy, not wanting the youngest of them to get lost in the silver haze surrounding them.
"Come on, humans! While we're still young." Mr. Beaver hurried them.
Penny sighed at the way the youngest of them dragged her legs. "Are you getting tired, Lucy?"
The girl shrugged, "Only a little."
Walking ahead of them, Peter slowed to a stop and knelt down to let Lucy clamber onto his back. "Hop on."
Lucy threw herself onto Peter's back, her small arms wrapping loosely around his neck. She let out a small gasp as she snuggled her head into Peter's neck, finally able to see more of the world around them.
Penny ran her hand over Lucy's back. "Is that better?"
"Hurry up! Come on!" Mr Beaver urged them.
Peter shook his head and hoisted Lucy further up as they began walking again. "If he tells us to hurry one more time, I'm gonna turn him into a big, fluffy hat," he threatened jokingly.
"He is getting a little bossy." Lucy agreed.
"No! Behind you! It's her!" Mrs Beaver warned them.
A shot of ice-cold ran up Penny's spine as she spun around to find a large sleigh quickly approaching.
Her eyes turned as big as saucers. "Peter..."
"Run!" Peter screamed.
The reins of whatever creature the Witch had pulling the sleigh jingled like bells, a chime just high-pitched enough for Penny to hear over the thumping of her heart. Penny found Susan's hand, and together they ran as fast as their tired legs would allow. Their hair blustered out behind them and the tips of their fingers turned a bloodless white with how tightly they clung to each other.
The Beavers led the way back into the forest, and the thin silver trunks that lined the edge of the lake were spread out enough to see and weave through with ease. Mr Beaver skidded to a stop on the tip of a rocky enclosure.
"Inside! Dive! Dive!" He practically screamed at them.
The children stumbled down the embankment like baby deer just out of the womb. Penny's arms came out to either side to steady herself before she ducked her head and threw herself into the left side of the small cave-like structure. Peter and Lucy slid in with Mr Beaver, who tucked himself as close to Penny's side as he could get.
Mrs Beaver hurried them in. "Quick! Quick, quick, quick!"
The sleigh bells jingled to an abrupt stop, the deafening silence of the forest enveloping them uneasily. They went quiet, and their limbs stiffened as footsteps approached overhead, a dusting of snow falling down, and the shadow of a person appeared in the sparkling snow in front of them. Penny's chest heaved in gulps of oxygen like it was water and she was drowning.
The shadow remained for a few moments before retreating slowly, the snow crunching beneath their boots fading until they were gone.
"Maybe she's gone." Lucy spoke up after a minute of fearful quiet.
Peter slipped his arm from around Lucy's shoulders. "I suppose I'll go look." He whispered.
Penny grabbed his arm. "You can't do that. I'll go," she decided.
"Absolutely not. I'm the eldest, I can take care of this." he argued.
"Peter, if I am the princess of this land, then I should be able to face the wickedness of my own mother." She left no space for argument.
Peter's jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together in frustration. "I'm not letting you go."
Penny's gaze turned defiant. "Fine. Then, we'll both go."
"No!" Mr Beaver interrupted with a harsh whisper. "The two of you are worth nothing to Narnia dead!"
Mrs Beaver reached out her short arm toward him. "Well, neither are you, Beaver."
With a small, sad smile, Mr Beaver took her paws into his. "Thanks sweetheart!"
Mr Beaver scrambled up the side of the snowy embankment and disappeared over the ridge of the rock. With bated breath, the others waited.
"What's that? What's..." Susan's whisper was so quiet that Penny could hardly hear it.
Peter shushed her gently and pulled Lucy closer to calm her quiet whines.
A flurry of footsteps raced across the top of the enclosure, and an unexpected blur of brown fur made Penny and Lucy shriek.
"Come out! Come out!" Mr Beaver exclaimed excitedly. "I hope you've all been good 'cause there's someone here to see ya!"
The children looked at each other curiously. Hesitantly, Penny followed Peter and Lucy out of the rocky cover and back out into the outskirts of the forest. Waiting for them was a white-bearded man standing in a burgundy coat, his wooden sleigh headed by eight reindeer sitting behind him.
Penny inhaled sharply. "Oh my..."
The man laughed at their fallen jaws and wide eyes.
Lucy untangled herself from her brother's grasp. "Merry Christmas, sir."
"It certainly is, Lucy, since you have arrived." Father Christmas smiled gleefully.
Susan shook her head in disbelief. "Look, I've put up with a lot since I got here, but this..."
"We thought you were the Witch." Peter cut his sister off.
Father Christmas looked down at his worn boots and slipped his leather gloves off. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry about that, but in my defence, I have been driving one of these longer than the Witch."
"I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia." Susan eyed the man curiously.
"Ever since the White Witch took over." Penny tagged on.
"No. Not for a long time." A sadness befell the man's face. "But the hope that you have brought, Your Majesties, is finally starting to weaken the Witch's power. Still, I dare say you could do with these." He heaved a large tapestried sack from the back of the sleigh, and it landed on the ground with a thud.
"Presents!" Lucy squealed and ran closer.
Father Christmas presented Lucy with a leather-covered bottle, "The juice of the fire-flower. One drop will cure any injury. And though I hope you never have to use it..." He handed her a small dagger.
"Thank you, sir, but I think I could be brave enough." Lucy sounded unsure in her words.
"I'm sure you could. But battles are ugly affairs." He gave Lucy a lingering smile before gently pushing her backwards. Next, he pulled out a bow and a quiver of red-feathered arrows. "Susan. Trust in this bow and it will not easily miss."
"What happened to 'battles are ugly affairs'?" Susan questioned.
He chuckled humorously, "Though you don't seem to have a problem making yourself heard," he presented an ivory horn with the head of a roaring lion. "Blow on this horn, and wherever you are, help will come."
"Thanks." Susan whispered sweetly.
Susan took her place back beside her siblings, and Penny stepped forward to meet Father Christmas' eye.
"Dearest Princess," he slid a dual pair of daggers into her hands, each with flowering vines engraved along the ivory hilt. "For when you must fly before the fall. Keep them close but only strike after the sun reaches its apex two moons from now."
Penny bowed her head. "Thank you, sir."
"You are most welcome, Princess, however that is not all I must give you." He placed a small leather pouch into her hand with a delicate touch. "Narnia has waited a long time for you to receive this."
Penny tugged the pouch open and tipped the contents onto her palm. The golden chain spooled into a circle, the tiny thimble charm sitting pretty on top in a way that reminded Penny of the sun.
"It's just a necklace." Penny protested.
"Perhaps, but have you not learned by now, dear Princess, that things in this land aren't always as simple as they first appear." His lips quirked upward. "Peter, would you mind?"
Peter's fingers brushed Penny's palm as he lifted the necklace out of it. He pinched either end of the chain between his thumb and forefinger and slowly lowered it over Penny's head. As the thimble charm settled in the space between her collarbones, Father Christmas's smile twitched a little higher, and Mrs Beaver gasped quietly, transfixed by the split-second rose-golden glow of the necklace.
"Now Penny, you must have an open mind for what is to come, and trust that everything will turn out as the stars foretold a near century ago."
"I will." She promised and stepped back in line so Peter could receive his gift.
"Peter." Father Christmas held out a silver shield with a red lion emblazoned on the front, accompanied by a matching sword. "The time to use these may be near at hand."
Peter unsheathed the sword from its protective leather scabbard. The blade glistened in the light, a scripture Penny couldn't read etched deep into the metal.
"Thank you, sir." Peter said earnestly.
"These are tools, not toys. Bear them well and wisely." He spoke with a seriousness Penny had only ever heard from her Uncle. "Now, I must be off. Winter is almost over, and things do pile up when you've been gone a hundred years. Long live Aslan!" He climbed back into his sleigh with a renewed burst of joy. "And Merry Christmas!"
The children returned his well-wishes as the reindeer trotted swiftly away and deeper into the forest. Mrs Beaver laughed gleefully as Lucy looked up at Susan.
"Told you he was real."
"He said winter was almost over." A look of urgency washed over Peter's face. "You know what that means."
Penny caught on quickly. "No more ice."
Penny stared down at the river with a sense of urgency she had never felt. The sheet of ice covering the rapids had broken into large chunks, which floated away choppily on the fast current, and Penny could see tiny trickles flowing down the frozen waterfall to their left.
"The ice is almost gone," she warned the others.
"We need to cross, now!" Peter insisted.
"Don't beavers make dams?" Lucy questioned.
"I'm not that fast, dear." Mr Beaver quipped back.
"Come on!" Peter yelled and took Lucy's hand in his own.
Lucy gasped at the force of Peter's tug, almost lifting off her feet as he pulled her along. Penny quickly followed suit, placing a hand on Lucy's shoulder to steady her.
"Wait! Will you just think about this for a minute?" Susan shouted at Peter.
"We don't have a minute." Peter snapped.
Susan's face fell, her exasperation replaced with dejection. "I'm just trying to be realistic."
Peter shook his head and scoffed. "No, you're trying to be smart. As usual."
The two oldest Pevensies glanced towards Penny, silently asking for her to take a side.
Penny crossed her arms and huffed, annoyed they could even find the time to fight when every second they spent squabbling was another chunk of ice separating from their path across the river. "Do I need to repeat what I said about not wanting to get involved in your tiffs? Right now, the most important thing is getting across that river. It may be the only way to find Edmund and get him back."
Susan stared at Peter's back as he turned and left her standing on the cliffside, sorrowful betrayal swirling deep in the pit of her stomach. A howl sounded from amongst the trees, and Penny swivelled around to find Susan peering into the woods, wide-eyed and afraid.
Penny held out her hand toward Susan. "Come on."
The girls helped each other down the slope, steadying one another on the cliffs' ridges. As the water splashed against the sides of the bank, droplets landed on the bare skin of their ankles where their socks had rolled down between the running, and even Penny was starting to feel the cold settle deep beneath her bones.
The sheet of ice crackled louder than anything Penny had ever heard before. Peter took a hesitant step , his foot lowering onto the unstable ice, and a spurt of water shot up from underneath as it dipped beneath his weight. Penny grabbed his arm and tugged him back onto the steady rock.
"Wait. Maybe I should go first." Mr Beaver suggested.
"Maybe you should." Peter slowly agreed.
"Good idea." Penny added.
Mr Beaver carefully tapped his webbed feet along the surface of the ice, his tiny body hardly weighing it down at all. He turned to slap his tail a little harder, trying to find the strongest passage that could hold the weight of the four humans he knew were destined to save Narnia.
"You've been sneaking second helpings, haven't you?" Mrs Beaver accused.
Mr Beaver paused and let out a nervous chuckle. "Well, you never know which meal's gonna be your last. Especially with your cooking."
Mr Beaver waved his hand for the children to follow. Peter and Lucy stepped on first, still joined by Peter's tight grip; he refused to let go of her, even if it meant falling through the ice and drowning as his lungs screamed for air. The ice immediately splintered beneath their combined weight, and Penny drew in a sharp breath as her foot sank unintentionally into the freezing water.
"If Mum knew what we were doing..." Susan's voice shook horribly.
Peter spun around, too focused on Lucy's safety to deal with Susan's complaints. "Mum's not here."
Icicles fell from the waterfall looming menacingly above them, and Lucy let out a cry as the White Witch's wolves ran over the top of it and toward the other side of the river.
"Run!" Penny screamed.
The sharp shards fell faster, slicing through the thinning ice at the waterfall's base, causing geysers of icy water to erupt and spray them.
"Hurry!" Susan yelled.
The wolves snarled and barked as they descended upon the river and leapt onto the riverbank. Turning back, Penny saw more wolves closing in. They were surrounded.
Mr Beaver hissed and spread his claws in an attempt to threaten, but the wolf pounced before he could swipe, taking his neck into his jaw and flattening him to the ground.
Mrs Beaver gasped. "No!"
"Peter!" Lucy cried, her voice full of fear.
There was a sharp ring of metal leaving the sheath as Peter drew his sword. He held it out in front of him, both hands gripping the handle, his stance similar to that of the soldiers in the posters littering the train station. The way his father had taught him how to hold a gun before being shipped off to fight in the war against a tyrannical dictator.
"Put that down, boy." Maugrim growled low. "Someone could get hurt."
Mr Beaver struggled against the wolves' firm grip. "Don't worry about me! Run him through!" He shouted.
Peter's hands shook violently, the metal blade wobbling under his grip. Penny reached out and cupped her hand beneath his elbow, the sword steadying just as he did.
"Leave now while you can, and your brother goes with you." Maugrim bargained.
"Stop, Peter! Maybe we should listen to him!" Susan pleaded over the loud cracking of the ice.
Maugrim chuckled darkly. "Smart girl."
"No!" Penny cried, meeting Peter's eye. "He doesn't mean a word he says. He works for the Witch."
Maugrim smirked. "Looks like you got more than your mother's looks, Princess."
"Don't listen to him!" Mr Beaver pleaded. "Kill him! Kill him now!"
"Oh, come on. This isn't your war." Maugrim said. "You've returned our precious Princess, and for that she is eternally grateful. All my Queen wants is for you to take your family and go."
He made it sound so easy.
"Look, just because some man in a red coat hands you a sword, it doesn't make you a hero!" Susan shrieked, her blue eyes filled with unshed tears. She just wanted to go home. "Just drop it!"
Peter spared her a glance. His fingers twitched against the handle, and his mind whirred with indecision.
"No, Peter! Narnia needs ya!" Mr Beaver kept yelling. "Gut him while you still have a chance!"
Peter held his head higher, defiant against the wolf. "I wouldn't leave Narnia without Penny."
"Unfortunately she belongs here, with us and our Queen." Maugrim tried to reason.
Penny swallowed around the lump in her throat as the ice gently rumbled beneath her feet. "I think you'll find I belong wherever I please."
Maugrim lowered his head, as if bowing to her. "Dear Princess, I believe your attitude will change once you meet your mother. She's missed you dearly," his sharp teeth spread into a wicked grin.
Penny raised her brow. "I heard she's been waiting to get rid of me since the moment I was born."
A low growl escaped Maugrim. "Lies and vicious rumours perpetuated by those against my Queen's long reign." His lips twisted into a snarl, and his sharp glare landed back on Peter. "Now, what's it gonna be, Son of Adam? I won't wait forever. And neither will the river."
The children followed the wolf's gaze upwards to the cracking facade of the waterfall. Gallons of freezing water spilt down onto them, and all Penny could do was stare up in horror as more of the ice ruptured and collapsed into fragments at the base.
"Peter!" Lucy screamed.
Lucy's scream shook Penny loose from her frozen stare, "Stab the ice!" She yelled at Peter. When he didn't react, she smacked him on the shoulder to get him to move. "Now! Stab the ice!"
Peter jolted. He angled the tip of the sword down toward the ice and raised it into the air. "Hold onto me!" He shouted to the girls before plunging the blade into the crevasse at their feet.
The waterfall burst like a champagne cork, the ice exploding and frigid water spraying everywhere. The waves crashed around them, water drenching them from all sides as the shard they were perched on dipped below the surface and bobbed back up, rushing down the river rapids unpredictably.
Penny sucked in a ragged breath of air, her lungs burning as if they had been set on fire. Every part of her body was numb from the tips of her fingers to her sopping wet, sock-covered toes. She felt weak, like the flame of a candle being snuffed out, wisps of smoke twisting through the air and dissipating quickly. The edges of her vision blurred, and black spots danced across her eyelids as she slumped onto the shield attached to Peter's back, her white-knuckled grip on Lucy loosening.
Mr and Mrs Beaver latched onto the ice shard, kicking their flippers as fast and hard as they could to propel it toward the shore. Once close enough, Peter and Susan lifted themselves off their stomachs and sloshed through the shallow water and onto the snowy bank ahead of them, their shoes and coats weighing them down.
With her arms folded across her body to keep warm, Susan spun around, expecting to find three people behind her; instead, she found one—Peter, holding up Lucy's short, brown fur coat and dripping thick droplets onto the ground. They stared at one another, full-bodied panic taking over them as they frantically searched for their little sister.
"What have you done?" Susan yelled, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Lucy! Lucy!"
"Has anyone seen my coat?" Lucy's quiet voice carried over the whooshing wind.
Relief washed over Susan and Peter as she approached from further up the bank. She tugged her forest green cardigan back over her shoulders, only for Peter to drape the fur over her and rub his hands up and down her arms to generate even the slightest hint of heat.
"Don't you worry, dear. Your brother's got you well looked after." Mr Beaver assured her.
Lucy looked around expectantly. "Where's Penny?"
Peter's eyes searched along the other side of the running river. "Pen!" He yelled as loud as he could through his urgent panting.
"Penny!" Susan screamed the girl's name across the river.
"Over here!" Mr Beaver's voice cut off Peter's next yell.
A few feet away, Mr Beaver stood with his teeth tugging at Penny's coat. The upper half of her body was slumped over a rock uncomfortably, her legs still in the water. With a speed he hadn't known he possessed, Peter was by Mr Beaver's side and dragging Penny's frighteningly still body out of the water. He laid her head down gently, her blonde and ginger hair spreading out like a halo or a lion's mane.
Susan gulped. "Is she...?"
Peter watched Penny carefully for signs of life, the slight flutter of her eyelashes and flare of her nostrils. The gentle rise and fall of her chest and the way her faint pulse seemed to stutter when his palm brushed against the column of her throat.
"She's breathing," he announced with a sigh. "Pen? Penny?"
His hand travelled up to her face. His fingers curved beneath her ear and twisted in her hair while his thumb swiped along her cheek, just below her eye. Slowly, he felt the warmth returning to her body, the blue-ish tinge to her lips fading, and her cheeks flushing a rosy pink under his scrutinising stare.
"Pen, wake up." He whispered for only her to hear.
Air filled Penny's lungs, the feeling of fire finally extinguished and replaced by the cold air. Her heavy eyelids lifted, a flicker of gold circling the centre of her irises before fading back to deep ocean blue. Penny turned her face into Peter's palm and slowly began lifting herself up. His hand dropped from her face and wound around her back to help pull her to her feet.
Susan shot forward and wrapped Penny in her arms, almost toppling the girl right back over. "Are you alright?"
"I-I think so?" Penny responded, confused by the younger girl's sudden display of affection.
Susan didn't say anything more and instead wrapped Penny's coat even tighter around her, fussing in a way Penny could only imagine a mother would.
"I don't think you'll be needing those coats anymore." Mrs Beaver chimed.
Lucy gasped in delight and tugged Susan by the hand further into the wood. Penny peered over the beavers' heads to see a group of crystallised cherry trees blossoming amongst the barren birch. The snow still covered the forest floor, but far in the distance, patches of green poked through the melting snow.
Mr Beaver took his wife's paw into his own and spared a glance at Penny and Peter. "Come on. I have a feeling our Princess will feel better once we get walking."
"I'll wait with you if you need a moment." Peter offered, chivalrously.
"I'll be fine," Penny refused. "Besides, the sooner we get to Aslan's camp, the sooner we can all rest, right?"
Peter nodded, a small smile spreading across his face. "Right."
Together, they followed the imprints of the Beaver's paws and Lucy and Susan's soft conversation. As their shoulders brushed, Penny's hand found Peter's among the fur still covering their wrists, and he intertwined their fingers in a way that almost felt like forever.
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