Heart of Flame

Lindell silently walked through the wood. The Talmarine soldiers were no pushover, and if Narnia had any hope of defeating them they needed as much help as they could get. She as well as many other Narnians had heard that the legendary horn of Queen Susan the Gentle was blown by the Talmarine Prince. But the elves didn’t. They normally kept to themselves, and once the Talmarines invaded, the elves broke practically all contact with the rest of the Narnians.
Lindell was the only line to the other Narnians, for she consulted with them often. Although young for an elf, she was among the wisest of even the elves. She was also the strongest with her skill as a warrior and the most powerful mage. Now that it was decided that the Narnians were to be assembled to discuss war, it was her duty to give the message to the elves. In sadness, Lindell looked to the trees. Years before, she could have just passed the message on with the dryads, but now that they had all disappeared, she had to go herself.
The elves resided in the Wood of the Whispers. (Yes I made the place up.) She had to cross the island where Cair Paravel once stood tall and proud to reach it, for the Wood of the Whispers was the result of un-kept growth on the island. Deciding that the beach would be easier to cross, she went along that way. After two days of travel, Lindell heard voices. Silently, she pulled her bow off of its place on her back and strung it.
Slowly, Lindell moved towards the voices. She stopped a few yards away from the voices. There, she saw a fissure of rocks and four people with a dwarf. Curious, she listened to their conversation.
“You said that the last you saw Caspian was in the Shuddering Woods,” said the eldest human to the dwarf, “and the quickest way there is to go over the river Rush.”
“Well unless I’m mistaken, there’s no crossing in these parts,” the dwarf replied looking annoyed. Lindell stared at the odd group. It wasn't every day that you saw four humans trying to reach the river Rush, that had turned into a deep gorge through time, with a dwarf.
"Well that explains it then," the boy retorted with a glare, "you're mistaken."
Lindell had suddenly got an idea of who the humans were. She had met the dwarf many times before, but she couldn't recognize him before. Trumkin was his name. It was time to make herself known.
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The sound of a cracking twig and crushed leaves was heard behind the four Pevensies. They all turned to see who it was. Trumkin pulled out his dwarf-sized sword. (They went back to the castle to get him weapons.) With a finger to his lips, Trumkin warned them to be silent, and he moved towards the sound. Just as he did, a person appeared in front of them. The person noticed the sword coming at them, and they unsheathed their own sword to block it with only one hand.
“Wonderful to see you too Trumkin,” the Pevensies could now see that it was a girl who blocked the sword. “But I must say that I’ve had better greetings, and I think we’ve already established that I beat you at swordsmanship.”
“No harm in trying,” Trumkin retorted glaring at the girl, but he did seem slightly relieved that it was her (whoever she was.)
“True,” the girl replied nodding and lowering her sword.
“Um,” Peter cut in, really confused, “I don’t mean to interrupt but who are you?”
The girl smiled at the Pevensies. Her smile was warm and comforting, but it also seemed to be full of wisdom that she had gained through her years. “I’d ask you the same thing, but I have a feeling that I know already.”
Edmund stared at her. What was she? She couldn’t have been one of Talmarines or the dwarf wouldn’t have known who she was. Then that’s when he saw her ears. They were pointed.
“My name’s Lindell,” the girl continued. “And I presume that you four are the kings and queens of old?”
Peter stepped forward and held out his hand. “High King Peter,” he said, “the magnificent.” Lindell shook the outstretched hand.
“Again, you could have left off the last part,” Susan said to him and also stepped forward with her hand held out. Lindell shook it. “Queen Susan,” she said. Lindell bowed her head slightly.
Lucy then stepped toward, “I’m Lucy,” she said with a bright smile. Lindell smiled back and shook her hand. She then turned to Edmund.
“And I presume that you’re king Edmund?” she asked taking a step toward him and holding out her hand.
“What are you?”, Edmund asked suddenly, ignoring the hand. Lindell’s eyes widened for a moment but her surprise was soon replaced with a laugh.
“That’s right,” she said through the laughs, “we were still in hiding during the Golden Age of Narnia weren’t we?” The Pevensies stared at her confused while Trumkin shook his head. Lindell finally calmed herself down and answered. “I’m an elf.”
“An elf?”, Susan asked, “You work for Father Christmas in the North Pole?”
Lindell stared at Susan as if she had two heads. “Did you catch any of that?”, she asked Trumkin.
“The only thing I got out of that was Father Christmas,” Trumkin retorted, also staring at Susan.
“Same here.”
“It’s something we have in out world,” Peter said. “Supposedly Father Christmas lives in the North Pole with tiny helpers called elves that make the toys every year.”
Lindell and Trumkin looked at eachother with their eyebrows cocked. “Anyway,” Lindell said, changing the subject, “we weren’t in Narnia at the time of the Golden Age, so it makes sense if you don’t know about us.”
“Where were you?”, Lucy asked.
“On the western edge of the world, Lucy,” Lindell answered with a saddened look in her aqua eyes.
“Why were you all the way over there?”, Edmund asked, who obviously wasn’t aware that there was a western edge to Narnia.
“To get away from the White Witch,” Lindell answered. Her voice had an undertone that showed how she thought of the witch. She thought the witch’s actions were sick, controlling, and horrid. “You see,” she began again, “we elves have knowledge beyond all the creatures of Narnia other than Aslan and his father himself. If that knowledge were to get into the Witch’s hands, Narnia would surely perish.”
“You knew how to destroy Narnia?”, Peter asked suspiciously.
“Unfortunately,” Lindell answered. “We wish to forget it, but we are all born with that particular knowledge. We also know how to get out of Narnia, but we wish not to use that either.”
The group was silent. “So…,” Edmund finally started, “When did you get back?”
“Right after you lot left,” Lindell answered. “We heard of your rule a few years into it, from the dryads, and we began to journey back. By the time we finally reached the borders of Narnia again, you had left.” Again, the group was silent.
“You say ‘we’ as if you were there yourself,” Susan said.
Lindell laughed. “Of course I was there!” The group stared at her, confused out of their minds. “You see,” she explained, “we elves can live for thousands of years and never die. In fact, there are still some elves that were at the beginning of Narnia. We don’t age.”
“So how old are you?” Edmund asked.
“1469!”, Lindell answered proudly. The Pevensies stared at her in shock. She looked about fifteen.
“What are you doin’ here now?”, Trumkin asked, changing the subject.
“Well, war has been announced by Caspian,” Lindell answered, “So I’m going to give the message to the elves… or at least I was.”
“What do you mean was?”, Peter asked, having an idea of what she meant, but didn’t want to believe it.
“If you want to reach the Narnians I suggest you follow me,” Lindell answered and turning the opposite way that they were originally going.
“Didn’t you say you had a job to do?”, Peter snapped. Lindell cocked her eyebrow.
“I can just pass it along to the first animal I see,” she answered, with a slight glare.
“Well we’re already going this way,” Peter spat. “If you want to follow, then that’s fine with me.”
The other five watched as Peter began walking toward the River Rush. Susan shook her head and began to follow.
“Is he always like this?”, Lindell asked.
“For as long as I’ve know ‘im,” Trumkin replied, who wasn’t all too happy that Peter wouldn’t listen to Lindell either.
“Wonderful,” she said sarcastically and continued walking. Edmund laughed.
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The six reached the river. (With their feet aching I might add.) Peter stared down at the steep cliffs that had grown since he was last there. Lindell looked down as well and shook her head.
“See,” Susan said and went on to try and explain how the river grew into a gorge.
“Oh shut up,” Peter spat in annoyance.
“Is there a way down?”, Edmund asked Trumkin.
“Yeah,” he answered, “falling.”
“Well we weren’t lost,” Peter said triumphantly.
“There’s a ford near Beruna,” Trumkin went on, “How do you feel about swimming?”
“I’d rather that then walking,” Susan retorted.
“Aslan?”, Lucy asked from behind them. “It’s Aslan! It’s Aslan over there!” Lindell jerked at the name. Lucy looked back at the spot she gestured to. “You see he’s right-“Lucy saw that there was no longer anyone there, “there.”
“Do you see him now?”, Trumkin asked.
Lucy turned to him with annoyance in her eyes. “I’m not crazy,” she told them, “Aslan was there. He wants us to follow him.” She looked at Peter with pleading eyes.
“I’m sure there are any number of lions in this wood,” Peter reasoned, “Just like that bear.” Lindell cocked her eyebrow at this, but then glared at Peter.
“I think I know Aslan when I see him!”, Lucy spat.
“Look,” Trumkin cut in, “I’m not about to jump off a cliff after someone who doesn’t exist.”
“The last time I didn’t believe Lucy,” Edmund said, “I ended up looking pretty stupid.” Lindell smiled faintly at Edmund.
Peter shook his head. “Why wouldn’t I have seen him?”, Peter asked.
“Maybe you weren’t looking,” Lucy replied.
“I’m sorry Lu,” Peter said and continued walking. Edmund and Lindell stayed behind with Lucy.
“Don’t worry,” Lindell reassured her, “I believe you.”
“Why?”, Lucy asked, not really believing her.
“Because I’ve seen Aslan too,” she answered, then sighed, “but it was in a dream. Still, I think I know better than to think the very person to find Narnia from her world to be a fool.” Lucy beamed and began catching up with the others. Edmund smiled at Lindell.
“What did Aslan say to you?”, he asked.
Lindell looked towards Edmund, thinking that he had already gone ahead with the others. She smirked. “That the kings and queens shall return. It looks like he was telling the truth.” She began walking once more while Edmund stared at her.
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That night, the Pevensies, Trumkin, and Lindell had a beautifully wretched sleep. Well, Lindell’s wasn’t really that bad, but if you ask her, she’d say that it was the worst out of all of them.
First, she kept watch until midnight until Peter took it up. That wasn’t so bad. But about an hour later, a bird decided that it felt like shouting out for joy… for two hours straight. Eventually Lindell awoke and glared at the tree that the sound was coming from. Now, she wasn’t the only one who was awakened from the sound. In fact, everyone was awake. And everyone saw the glare. It was no ordinary glare either. It was a glare that radiated death. Lucy shivered and the others were stunned.
Lindell sat up and walked towards the tree. With lightning quick movements, she leapt up the tree and disappeared through the leaves. Suddenly, squawks and unimaginably, loud noises were heard throughout the camp. Then they all stopped. Leaves shuddered, and Lindell jumped to the foot of the tree. She walked back over to the dying fire and laid down. A contented sigh passed through her lips and she fell asleep once more.
The Pevensies stared at her in fear while Trumkin shook his head. Whatever happened that night, assured the kings and queens that Lindell was truly worthy of her sword. Or possibly they just decided to take the hint to never wake her up or it would mean their deaths.
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The next day, the group woke up to soar backs. None of them wished to get up, but they knew that they had no other choice. Surprisingly, Lindell was the first up. Even if she hated to be awoken by someone else, she could manage to wake herself up, no matter what the time was. (Actually, it’s probably just that she’s always hungry when she gets up, but that’s beside the point.) Either way, the six ate a quick and unsatisfying breakfast, and continued on with severe aches.
Halfway through the morning, the six had reached the Ford of Beruna. But none of them were happy about it. The ford was crowded with men: Talmarines to be exact. And a bridge was being built over it. It was horrible to watch for Lindell. Any other elf would have jumped out and protested had they not fought the Talmarines hundreds of years before. (Which isn’t really likely. Not many elves had been born since then.)
Edmund looked at the hyperventilating Lindell. Her nails digging into the wood of one of the trees that served as their hiding spot. He realized something then. Whatever myths he had heard back home about elves (that didn’t have to do with Santa Clause) had to do with the fact that they were all extremely connected with the elements. And he also realized that nymphs weren’t much different from them either. She must have been devastated to watch them all die at the hands of the enemy.
Suddenly, Edmund reached out and grabbed Lindell’s trembling hand. She looked first at the hand that clasped hers and then at him. Edmund gave her a reassuring smile. Her eyes suddenly filled with liquid, but she managed to somehow hold it in.
“Perhaps this wasn’t the better way to come after all,” Susan whispered to Peter. He nodded. The six stood and left the ford.
Not a mile away, they all heard rustling behind them. Lindell turned and smirked.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the very murderers themselves,” she said as about eight Talmarine soldiers came out from behind the trees. The Pevensies stared at her. Even if she was smiling, the hatred in her eyes couldn’t be mistaken.
“What do you think of it?”, Trumkin asked.
“Well it might be a bit hard if one more shows up,” she answered. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got that from KH2. Shut up!)
“That sounds like a bet to me,” he said to her with a smirk of his own. Lindell’s grew larger.
“Loser owes the other a bottle of wine?”, she proposed.
“Deal,” Trumkin agreed and shook her hand. The others stared at them.
Lindell pulled out her bow and strung it. An arrow to the string, she aimed it at the oncoming guards. Trumkin did the same. Suddenly, Lindell shot, having the arrow lodge right in between the eyes of a soldier.
“One,” she said with two more arrows to her string. Then Trumkin said one. Lindell shot once more, getting two at once. Three.
Trumkin had just got his third and Lindell shot her fourth when the rest came too close to have arrows used. By then five more guards had shown up. With a quick movement, Lindell had ripped out her sword from its sheath. Its silver gleamed in the light along with its ruby encrusted hilt. She had dropped her staff as well.
With a thrust, Lindell ripped through an oncoming soldier. “Five.” Two more came after her and Lindell lifted up her staff with her foot, managing to hit the two under the chin with it. She slashed horizontally through the two. “Seven.” Trumkin by then had taken care of another with an arrow. Three remained. Lindell lifted her sword and cleaved the head of one. Trumkin slashed another’s ankles and shoved his sword through him as he came down. With the last one there, Lindell smirked and ran forward.
She lifted up her leg and kicked, sending the soldier into the air. As he came down, she slashed, and the man moved no more. Lindell sighed and for a moment, looked discouraged. Then she began counting on her fingers. “Nine,” she confirmed, turning to Trumkin. He looked at the ground, shamefully.
“Five,” he muttered. Lindell smirked.
“Aw, that’s all right,” she said, patting Trumkin’s back, “there’s always next time.”
“I know that,” he answered, “I was just looking forward to that elvish wine. Rumors say that it’s stronger than normal.” Lindell laughed and sheathed her sword.
“Don’t worry; you’ll get your chance.”
The Pevensies stared at them, but continued walking, Trumkin with them, looking disappointed. But Lindell and Edmund remained.
Lindell stared at the bodies. Tears rimmed her eyes, and she rubbed them away with her sleeve. She turned and noticed Edmund. “What is it?”, she asked, her voice cracking.
He shook his head. “Nothing,” Edmund muttered and continued walking. Lindell followed silently. It wasn’t over. Edmund was determined to ask her again when no one was listening.
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