Rebuilding || {open}

[Reepicheep]

Reepicheep stood on top of a rock, looking out at his surroundings and feeling quite small. He seemed to often find himself feeling small, but it felt a good deal better to feel small next to a great landscape than while next to a great Giant. (The landscape, Reepicheep had found, usually does not accidentally step on you, and cause you great pain, or even worse, humiliation.) The rock he was standing atop was one of the many that currently lay around Aslan's How. The How had been utterly destroyed during the battle there, which took place not too long ago, and it had since been rebuilt, though the process was slow and somewhat agonizing. The whole thing had, after all, been torn down. It had been difficult to see it fall, but all turned out for the better. Things seemed to have a habit of doing that.

He had almost died here, on that fated day. But when he had seen Aslan, with a golden light surrounding him, it had been the Lion himself surrounded by sunlight. And then Reepicheep had regained full consciousness, revived by Lucy's fire-flower cordial. Since then, he had been able to rebuild his own self-confidence, at a much faster rate than that of the How, thank the Lion. But there were still many other things in Narnia that were also a bit worse for wear as a result of the civil war it had endured. Cair Paravel - the great castle that once housed the kings and queens of old, and rumored to have been the most beautiful (and at one time, the only) in Narnia - had, for a long time, been utterly abandoned. The system of government that had existed a thousand years ago had been almost forgotten, and still not quite in place under Caspian, though it was getting there (bloody lords were still trying to run things, of course). The forest, in which Reepicheep had once lived, had grown into one of monstrous size, overgrown and nearly uninhabitable in its wildness because everyone was too afraid to tend it. Perhaps what was worst was the relationship Narnians had once had with each other, eroded over time and still struggling to go back to half of what they had once been.

Amidst all the dust and dramatics that often came with building projects, Reepicheep had felt himself rather stifled. Anywhere he went, he seemed to be getting stepped on (literally) or ignored. He had come out to the How - or what was left of it? - to find peace, but his thoughts had ended up going exactly where he had not wanted them to go. Wanting to forget something normally makes you remember it all the more vividly. He wished someone was around to distract him, for he had made a long journey alone, and was not used to having no one else around him. But for the moment, it seemed to be just him and the waving grasses.

[Aslan]

The light was fair yet, many hours lay between the now and the inevitable sunset. High grasses brushed tawny legs, the fresh scent of the open field and the forests beyond was refreshing, even after all this time. Aslan moved quietly, listening to the sounds of Narnia. The distant whispers of the trees and the birds that nested there, the wind, the earth below his paws as he padded past, all of these had something to tell. He paused, almost mid-step, head turning and ears flicking. Often he was moving with directed purpose, called to the task and making his way there or returning to set out once more, this was not so today. This day was his. He was using it to take in once again the beauty of the world, to see how those who never left the land faired. News, from what he overheard, told that things were well. They had been better and worse, they were growing better now. It would take time for the old Narnians and the new to fully reconcile; the old had suffered much hardship and among the new sprouted still the seeds of fear, fear for the unknown, fear for what was hard to grasp. He sighed, turned his gaze back to the path before him and resumed walking. There was a willingness to try in the air,that was the cornerstone of all that was being attempted. While that spirit survived all things would continue to progress. He smiled, a soft gesture that cloaked powerful jaws. Narnia was healing, in land and in those living upon it.

The grass remained high but bare patches were starting to emerge, spots of repeated weight and flattening spread out before him. He paused once more, recognizing his whereabouts. He had made his way to the Stone table. How it had changed over the years... He remembered it best as the hill it had once been, saw it in his minds eye blazing in the night, burning in the brilliant dawn. Time had eroded all, buried it in dirt and stone, hid the table below the soil. Many places in Narnia had laid etchings upon his heart and all were familiar to him, but this place... perhaps more than any other, this place spoke. Its song was faint, faded, but still he heard the fear and the sorrow, the echoes of hope, and the darkness of the last hour before the dawn. A soft rumble of sound came from him, not a growl but not much less. There were still the echoes of battle here, these more recent, covered by the serenity of the forests and the open fields. None could say what the future would bring this place, it might stand forever or fade so that not even tales told of it. For as long as he lived it would live on upon his heart.

Something was stirring upon one of the great fallen stones, hard to make out from the angle at which he looked at it. Save that movement the scene was quiet, empty save himself and the form he had not yet distinguished. He would walk to the top of the ruin he decided, and from there enjoy the view for a few moments before moving on. Memories good and bad could be put aside, and the present, the sweet breeze and the warm sun, would be better enjoyed once free from the grass. The lion made his way to the mound.

[Reepicheep]

Reepicheep's large ears alerted him first to the presence of another creature. Shaped like cones and a great source of pride to him (nearly everything was, really), they could detect anything from quite a distance. At this moment they detected something frightfully big, judging from the amount of waving grass being displaced by its every movement, though the specifics weren't certain yet. He lifted his noble face to the sky to smell out the intruder, categorizing it as feline. A challenge, to be sure. A smile marked his features as he drew his beloved rapier.

Whoever it was seemed to think they were being stealthy, for they did not walk with the same "meow"-filled swagger that characterized the gait of most Cats or cat-like creatures. This amused Reepicheep, for surely they did not know of the keen hearing of their opponent. They soon would learn. But then, to his surprise and disgruntlement, they made a noise that was not even worthy of an enemy, something not quite a growl. Reepicheep snarled in impatience, for it seemed to be circling him now, headed off in the direction that was not his.

Waving his rapier about threateningly, he cried out, "Show yourself, Cat! Do not meet your end as a coward!" Any threat to Reepicheep's life was as much a threat to the personal safety of their Majesties, whom he was proud to defend. It was a nobler thing to die here doing the same than it was to die an old and helpless Mouse, but he would miss the opportunity to sail to the Utter East. Still he steeled himself, anxious to look Death in its furry feline face in the hopes of turning it away once more disappointed.

When he finally saw the Lion - not a Lion but the Lion - and identified it as who it was, he gasped and dropped into a hasty, but nonetheless gallant, bow. "Aslan! My liege," he breathed, sounding almost meek in the shame that came with making the huge mistake of drawing arms against a friend (especially a friend such as this!). "Please forgive me for my impertinence."

[Aslan]

Aslan looked down at the mouse, a soft rumble of a chuckle rolled from him but his eyes were serious despite it. He stretched a paw between them and with one great claw extended pressed the swords tip to the stone. "Peace Reepicheep... I see no harm was meant. In times of peace however we should not be so quick to draw our swords." He pulled his paw back and placed it beneath him, his mood lightened. Whiskers flicked as the lion smiled, leaned down slightly so as to look the mouse eye to eye. "Or did you wish to challenge me in friendly combat? It has been time indeed since I last practiced with another..." A few agitated tail lashes, like a great cat might indeed make before pouncing, punctuated these words.

Aslan chuckled again, let his jest pass and lifted his head to looked out across the field. "You are very much alone here brave one, I do not know if it suits you." Sitting he looked down upon him again. "Why have you strayed so far from your companions? Have you grown tired of safeguarding kings and men?" His tone was soft, his eyes matched this and his breath, warm and sweet, ruffled at the other's fur.

[Reepicheep]

"Peace?" Reepicheep cried in an indignant squeak. "There has been no peace since you left, my liege, though I am loathe to say so." He shook his small head sadly, for it was the truth. Even with five rulers it had been a struggle to keep things under control - the lords were forever pushing for more power, and Telmarines and Narnians alike still resented the casualties of the war each thought the other had brought on.

He would draw a sword against anyone, except the Lion himself, for the defense of any of those royals, and was insulted that Aslan might suggest otherwise. Sheepish and humbled, he sheathed his rapier. "I would not dishonor you by asking you to oppose me, for you would defeat me in an instant," he acknowledged. Surely, it would be silly to die in such a way. Though a nobler opponent could not be found, he had never actually seen Aslan fight (though it was a dream of his), and it would be a sad thing to die by the hand - or paw - of a friend.

He did not realize that the Lion was joking, feeling a pang of righteous fear as Aslan poised to pounce. He cringed in preparation for a well-deserved death, justification for the drawing of arms, before realizing the jest. Reepicheep was a serious Mouse and did not understand such things, and so was quite ruffled. He said nothing about it, embarrassed rightly, and was glad that Aslan didn't either.

"I'm not alone," Reepicheep pointed out with a tiny smile. "Though I thought I needed to be, it is nicer to be in your most pleasurable company, if I may say so, my liege." He looked up furtively at the giant Cat. It had been foolish to leave the royals without their best swordsman (him, of course), though not totally defenseless, for they were protected by his troop of eleven. "Perhaps I should be getting back," he added quickly.

[Aslan]

"Peace?" Reepicheep cried in an indignant squeak. "There has been no peace since you left, my liege, though I am loathe to say so."

The lion rumbled. “Peace is a word with many meanings tied to it. There is unease now in Narnia and may be yet for some time, but war is absent, and so peace reigns.” Aslan turned his eyes back to the field. “Conflict has cast shadows across the progress being made but its existence must be pressed. I know it has not been easy Reepicheep,” He sighed, “The best things can never be gained without struggle and not all will embrace that. Some may even fear it. Personal grievances, fears, hesitations and losses are no easier to bare when war is absent, they are merely not amended by the day. What has passed in war touched all who live here and left on all its markings. The Disagreements and struggles that arise from these may temp the drawing of arms against others, but this must be tempered. When weapons are laid aside and ones defense becomes, not their strength of arm but the steel of their character, then and only then does peace as all peace should be known become possible.” He looked back to him, whiskers curling. “You are a good mouse, I do not doubt your character and that is why I say this to you. I walked in the field unknowing of you and was challenged to battle, met with sword drawn. Friend I was and not foe, but had I been neither? You might have made an enemy of me. Narnia needs no more of those, better that the enemies still present be made friends. I say to you however noble the cause, save in defense of your life or another’s, there is no place in a time of peace for swords.” He tossed his mane from his eyes, curled his tail over his paws. “It is the lot of those who understand to lay the example to those who are yet to learn. Be an example onto they who are your enemies still. Be not so quick to draw your sword, Reepicheep.”

At the mention that the mouse was not alone the lion smiled.

" I'm not alone Though I thought I needed to be, it is nicer to be in your most pleasurable company, if I may say so, my liege."

“It was that which I wondered after.” The lion rose and turned, looked to the top of the mound. “This is a quiet place that might draw those who need their thoughts and time to be their own. I would ask what had called you here.” He looked back to him. “You need not answer if you do not desire it but I will listen if you choose to say.”

"Perhaps I should be getting back,"

“That is also for you to decide.” Aslan walked off, moved up to the highest point of the ruined mound and turned his head to take in the spread of the land before him. His expression was of enjoyment of the scene, but that faded. Deep and thoughtful grew his eyes, no longer looking afar but perhaps within, and the proud neck bent as he looked down to the soil beneath his paws. He took his seat upon the green, fur shining tawny and bright in the suns glow. Though he was smiling again he seemed distant still, caught perhaps between here and somewhere else and watching both through the same deep eyes.

[Reepicheep]

Reepicheep's tail and whiskers both drooped in sadness and concentration as he listened carefully to Aslan's wise words. He knew and trusted in the Lion, sure that all that was said was the truth. But it nonetheless disturbing to him, for it was, however gentle, a clear rebuke. So Aslan meant that to say that they had never been enemies and all, and only imagining it? Why, the unfairness of it all! Hadn't Aslan himself taken up the final business of defeating the Telmarines? His little brow furrowed as he thought about this. Perhaps if they hadn't been so angry in the first place there never would have been a war. But didn't they need a war? The Telmarines were so very wrong! The Narnians knew what they were about! If they didn't, then why would they have fought at all?

"But Aslan," he said meekly, before faltering. A being such as he could never comprehend the words of Aslan, so even though he did not quite understand why, he knew instinctively that the Lion was right, and so he acquiesed. He wasn't, as Aslan said, one of those who knew what was being spoken of. But he could try. After all, Aslan had said that he had good character - the highest of compliments. Sighing, he said, "Yes, my liege."

Taking a moment to formulate his answer, Reepicheep looked down at the rocky surface under his paws. It was so stable and unchanging. He wondered about all the things that it had seen and could not speak of. How many battles had stained it with blood? He glanced up to see that Aslan had moved up and away. Clutching his rapier without thinking of it, he ran clumsily after the Lion.

"Don't leave," he pleaded, breathless. Sheepish, he hastily amended: "What I mean to say is, could... Could you come with me? Please?" He looked at the Lion, almost shyly. Without realizing it, he had come to the How looking for something. Solitude could not satisfy him, and now, what he had been searching for had come. Instead of escaping the castle and its occupants, he had come in hopes of helping it, unconsciously.