The story of the sleeping beauty has been told time after a time. A beautiful princess cursed to sleep forever. A handsome brave prince that rescues her. A true love's kiss that wakes her up. It's a story as old as time, known in nearly every singl...
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The sun had dried off their entirely drenched clothes. The kids had left their coats hung on a tree. Lucy and Susan had lost their shoes too, and were now relishing the feeling of grass on their feet. Peter had rolled up his sleeves , giving him a messy yet endearing look. Rory was now left in a thin white blouse, after deciding to lose her thin baby blue cardigan in the tree.
Their spirits were high. They had just come out alive from a near impossible situation without a scratch. They were also very close to Aslan's camp, meaning they were one step closer to Edmund's rescue. Narnian spring seemed to mirror the group's hope and cheerfulness over their newfound situation. All except one.
While Mr. and Mrs. Beaver were entertaining the Pevensies with Narnian stories and legends, Rory had decided to follow them from far behind. She was continuously studying her newly gifted sword and flute that belonged to her parents.
Her parents. God, she could barely keep up with the implications behind these gifts. Her parents were Narnian rulers which meant she was a Narnian too but she had somehow ended up living in the real world. When? Why? How?
Mr and Mrs. Beaver explained that the witch had been reigning for a hundred years. A hundred years of cruel winter and no Christmas. So that meant her parents were ancient! More than a hundred. But how had she managed to stay sixteen? And if she was really Nanrnian how had she ended up on Earth? Did she cross the wardrobe too? But when? And there was something that didn't quite fit in her head. Her aunts knew her parents. Her human aunts on the other side of the wardrobe. They never talked about them but Rory had eavesdropped on several conversations to know that they were at the very least friends. So does that mean they were Narnians too? But... Ughh, Rory pinched the bridge of her nose. She closed her eyes and tried to quiet her mind as she felt the beginning of headache forming.
None of her thoughts were coherent. They were all interconnected and led to more questions. Questions she didn't have answers for and that frustrated her to no end.
"So, a princess?" Peter asked, startling the Browning girl from her musings.
Peter had noticed a while back that Rory had fallen behind from the group. She looked defeated. Her usually bright turquoise eyes that sparkled with mischief and wit were now a dull shade of blue. The Pevensie boy felt his heart break at the sight of the confused and lost girl he had grown to ... to care about. So he decided to join her on a walk a bit farther away from the girls and Mr. and Mrs. Beaver.
"Apparently," Rory shrugged. Her entire posture was hunched, she had her arms crossed in her middle as if to protect herself from her entire life falling apart. Her mouth opened and closed several times, afraid to verbalize all her thoughts. Peter waited patiently, he might not know her for long but he had enough conversation with her to know she'll eventually open up without prodding. The blonde teen took the girl's hand and squeezed. That was the last push, the brunette needed.
