Author's Note: Chapter is kind of fluffy, and ties up a few lose ends. Also, I have a recommendation for any authors struggling to write a story based on a movie. If the soundtrack has been released, listen to it. Youtube is great for that but much of this story wouldn't be here if it weren't for the 3 Narnia soundtracks…
Evelyn stepped from her tent and out into the light of the false dawn. They were going to reach home by midday today, and the whole camp was filled with a sense of relief. Even the High King was relieved.
They'd spent a whole day exploring the palace, and an uneasiness had spread from Evelyn through the company. She'd had every right to be uneasy, and everyone knew it. She was alert and on edge and seemed almost afraid sometimes. The feelings eased though, when she found her room in the castle.
Queen Lucy and Aslan, and Moon of course, accompanied her inside as Spirit and Flame stood guard outside. The Queen helped her to gather things she wanted to bring back to Cair Paravel into a trunk, and then the rest went into a second trunk to be stored away. "You're the lady and probably the duchess of the territory, you might want to dress in clothes your people will recognize," the Queen told her, and that was the end of Evelyn's argument. She did have to admit that some things she was fond of.
But she was not fond of the hags and ogres that had stayed to guard the castle. She had known they would only accept her, so she had dressed in the white gown and blue cloak and placed the iron tiara on her head. Then she had called the Minotaurs and the Wolves and those Aslan had forgiven; the Bobcat, Hyenas, and the Polar Bear, to her. Snowwatcher had served as her mount as she had approached the castle, and then she had gained entrance back inside. She had granted everyone else entrance, and then they explored.
Evelyn stared at the hill, and then she climbed to see the sunrise. It was easier to think when one was watching something as beautiful yet simple as the sun rising. Sitting on the hilltop, she thought of the exploration.
She'd found the Witch's rooms; expansive, luxurious, and cold rooms that she had let Aslan explore alone.
She had come to a decision with the Kings and Queen at midday, when they had gathered for a meal. They'd leave any creatures and Animals who wished to stay in the territory to garrison the castle. They had decided that Evelyn would indeed be crowned the Narnia Princess of the territory, since the inhabitants knew her as the royalty and she knew the land. They had worked out that since Evelyn had ceded her claim to the crown that they had to make her the Princess of the Narnian territory, not the Wild Lands.
They had also worked out what would be left in the castle for Evelyn, since they decided that every two months, she'd return to the castle to check in with the inhabitants and soldiers in the territory. But she had two conditions; they changed the standard to one of a Narnia theme, and they established some form of a system of government and laws.
She hated the way the Witch had ruled; what I say goes. She HATED that. A kingdom was made of people, and the people had a voice. So she had decided that once she was crowned, she would travel through the territory as she done with the Witch, and she would establish a government with the people and Animals. The Kings agreed to travel with her after she had pointed out that Peter was the King to the North, and Edmund was the Just King. She had wanted them to accompany her to advise her, because she wanted to make the right decisions for all her people.
Moon crawled from her collar and padded across her shoulders, her tiny paws drawing Evelyn from her thoughts. She giggled and Moon purred hard enough to make Evelyn's shoulders vibrate. Evelyn couldn't help but laugh, and then she couldn't stop. She hadn't really laughed in a long time, and it felt good. For the moment, she didn't care about the looks the soldiers were casting her way. Normally, she would have been too self conscious, and she would have smothered her laughter with her hand to not draw attention to herself. But right now, that fear was thrown into the wind and she laughed.
She never noticed that the looks were fond and happy. The Animals and creatures of Narnia already thought her one of their royal family, and they loved that family. It made them happy to see her happy. And nor did she realize that the cheerful mood in the camp was because of her.
But Aslan did. He watched affectionately from the tent he had used as his gold one laughed and giggled. It was her joy that made the flowers bloom in the field, but she never knew. He did, and he watched as her innocent joy turned to a free lightheartedness. She needed this, he knew. Without a doubt was it that she needed this.
She danced across the hill, her white shirt standing out in the blue wildflowers. Birds sang their music for her, and she danced, spinning and twirling and singing a song that had no words. It did not need words. Anyone could see the message behind the song.
High King Peter especially saw it. He joined her in her dance, and he realized when he took her hands that her eyes were closed. He let her guide him through her dance, and he discovered that if he let her joy spread to him, the dance was easy. And she never seemed to trip on anything.
Eventually though, the dance had to end, and she settled back into the grass to revel in the sunlight. Peter would remark for years that she was like a cat, always trying to find the sunlight. And she would argue that she was a Tiger; she's get wet and dirty if she needed, and sometimes she enjoyed that. And she would come to like the snow.
But she would never come to terms with being cold. Chilled she could handle. Numb she could handle. Cold, even after years, would she never be able to like or even handle.
When Peter played with her long hair that was splayed around her head in a golden fan, she traced little designs on his hand. Her eyes stayed closed until the sun was touching her face, and then she opened them. And Peter was shocked.
Her irises were caramel gold with dark blue kind of splattered through them. Then he understood. This was the natural color of her eyes. The bright blue was from the Witch's hold. Now that it was gone, everything returned to the way it should be with her. And he found her preferred these golden eyes. He could see her through them, and the glass was gone.
They were beautiful, in their dangerous, commanding, and untamed way. That was her spirit. You could cage it, but it could never be tamed. Her spirit could never be broken. Years would pass before their enemies understood that fact, and many would never live to see the day their kinsmen did come to understand.
That was his Evelyn. His Princess of the Northern Territory. His Lady of Cair Paravel. His guardian in the shadows. His warrior standing beside him. She was all of that and more. She was his guiding light, his beacon in the night. She was his sixth sense, his contradiction and contrast. She was his comparison at the same time too. She was his heart, his love. She was his golden dawn. She was his.
And yet she would never be tamed. Because just like the Great Lion, the wind could never be tamed.