Turkish Delight

Hola, if anyone is reading this. Hello? Anyway, in order to celebrate one of my greatest childhood stories, and it's new movie coming out, I'm gonna completely destroy it by shoving an OC right into the heart of it and see how it turns out. Kudos to me! Anyway, review if you want to see this story going, flame me for being a complete and total prat for uploading something so horrible, or praise me for my genius! Either way, review. If you do happen to add this to your story alert or favourites (le gasp, I thank you muchly and dearly), holidays are now over so I might not get the second chapter up any time soon. As always and as everything else on this site, I own pretty much nothing except Elizabeth Jones, a 2001 paperback edition of the seven Chronicles of Narnia (in the reading order recommended by C.S. Lewis) which I just found a hair-tie in, and a lot of free time. PS, I enjoyed writing in C.S. Lewis' style, so I wouldn't mind a comment or something along those lines, and I don't think my character is a "Mary Sue", as it were, but if so, please inform me, because more and more often I find myself reading the same spastic clumsy girl who's proud and learns how to fight the proper way etc, etc. Really, the old Mary Sues are just by-products of bad writing, and the new Mary Sue's are savvy girls who we should inspire to be like, only less clumsy and more ourselves. PPS, Code word is Loyalty, if you want to be mentioned in a shout out for next chapter. But I digress, onwards, dear reader, if you have survived thus far!

Once there was a girl named Elizabeth Jones. Her friends, however small or large the number, all called her Lizzy, for her name was larger than any other ten year's old she knew. But still, her parents loved her (As they must, she always thought, for I've never met parents who were mean to their children. And even though sometimes they don't act like it, sending me to bed at seven, and feeding me dinner before dessert, they must love me!) and she lived a happy, quiet life in a small city. Elizabeth's imagination was very good, which was why when Elizabeth went to bed, at seven o'clock sharp, and dreamt of a wonderful world with talking beasts, the whitest snow and an evil queen, she dismissed it as reading too many fairytales before bedtime, and continued on for the next few days as normal. Three days later, however, Elizabeth fell asleep with a pout on her face only to wake up in Narnia, for this was the name of the magical country (for it must be magic to have talking beasts and whitest snow and evil queens), and very annoyed at that. Oh bother! She cried to herself. At home she might have been more vocal about her worries, but had met the nicest, yet most peculiar, British girl in her last dream who had been very vocal with her worries and that had annoyed Elizabeth, for not nearly half of Elizabeth's thought and worries were as nice or as relevant as Lucy's. Lucy made her feel petty and cruel, and Elizabeth didn't like feeling as such. This in turn made her dislike Lucy more, and it angered her to feel so mean spirited towards someone so much nicer than her. It was a spiral of emotions that didn't ever end, and only made Elizabeth feel worse and worse.

Nevertheless, after Elizabeth's exclamation she decided to just wonder around again to see if Mr Tumnus (a faun who had tried to kidnap the two of them but then released them afterwards last time she was here, who Lucy had forgiven very easily but Elizabeth didn't feel inclined to (yet another reason to dislike the girl's incessant niceness)) needed any help with transporting packages to and fro. Instead, Elizabeth happened upon a boy not much older than herself, with dark hair and dark eyes and a dark scowl on his face.

"Lucy!" He called, "Lu! Where are you? I know you're here." Elizabeth cautiously stepped out of the bushes and behind him. He, like Lucy, was wearing clothes that Elizabeth had only ever seen in the old black and white photos her grandparents thrust upon her, trying to make her believe that they were her age once. Don't worry though, she never fell for it.

"Lucy isn't here, you know," She told the boy. He spun around quickly, the scowl on his face deepening.

"Who are you?" He snapped.

"Who are you?" She frowned. My, this boy is rude! And yucky! More yucky than Michael, in fact. This wasn't entirely true, for Edmund (the rude boy's name) wasn't nearly as yucky as Elizabeth's neighbour, who picked his nose, who pulled her plaits, who farted around her, who shoves worms and insects at her, who called her names. Edmund simply frowned at the girl and looked at her. Then, he decided to speak again.

"What are you wearing?" He sneered at poor, poor Elizabeth. Elizabeth hadn't liked the pink ruffled tee-shirt her mother had shoved her into this morning, or the pink sparkly jelly sandals either. The only item of clothing she liked was a pair of white cargo shorts she wore, just like Nina's, her older sister's, pair. Self-consciously, she crossed her arms over her chest and frowned down at her feet, which were slowly turning blue from the cold. She looked up to meet Edmund's eyes, who was, now that he had asked the question, quite interested in what she was wearing.

"Clothes," Elizabeth replied shortly. Thankfully, not much time had gone by and Elizabeth was quite happy at her witty little comeback. Edmund's scowl only deepened. Instead, he did what Susan would have done (for Susan was his other, more annoying sister) and ignored her.

"Lucy! Lucy! I'm here too—Edmund!"

"I told you, Lucy isn't here!" Elizabeth cried out, dismayed that he wasn't listening to her. She really wasn't all that surprised, however, because then again no one ever really listened to her. "She's probably off with Mr Tumnus, that idiot girl!" She huffed, stomping her foot deeper into the snow. Her insult caught the boy's attention.

"Who are you? And don't call Lucy and idiot—" He was quite guilty at how horribly he had treated his sister over the last few days about her imaginary world, which had turned out to be quite a bit more real that he had hoped.

"Well she is!" Elizabeth huffed. Of course this boy would side with Lucy, she moaned, because Lucy's so nice and pretty and perfect! In Elizabeth's book, because she wasn't nearly as smart or as nice or pretty or perfect as any girl she had ever met (or dreamed up, in this case (Though it seems less and less of a dream, and more and more or an alternate reality!), this was the worst that she could call anyone. "She's off with a strange faun who kidnaps little girls and she's probably drinking his drinks and eating his food which is probably poisoned and I've seen Saw and I know what happens and we're in a forest so we could be next!" Of course, Elizabeth hadn't seen Saw at all, and she didn't have a clue of what happened in it, but she needed to make a point and make someone believe her for once. Besides, daddy says that exaggerating isn't really a lie! Once more, she huffed and stomped her foot. Edmund, at least, seemed to be thinking it over.

"What's your name? You could at least tell me that, as you know mine," He said.

"But I don't know your name!" She whined, flinging her arms to her arms to tug on her plaits (for it was okay when she did it, but annoying when Michael did). Once again, Elizabeth wasn't as smart or as nice or pretty or perfect as any girl she had met, and so she hadn't realised that this boy's name was Edmund when he had all but screamed at the forest a minute or so ago.

"My name is Edmund!" He huffed, annoying at this whiny little girl who wouldn't leave him alone and who wore strange clothes. I hope she catches a cold, he thought callously while looking at her, for he, while wearing a thick jumper his mother had knitted him and long socks on and he was still very, very cold. Elizabeth, having realised her mistake, blushed and stuttered at him.

"Oh...I, er, I thought you—thought you might have also been looking for an Edmund as well. As a Lucy, that is..." Edmund quickly looked away and tried to get Lucy to come to him a few more times. Elizabeth simply rolled her eyes and uttered the one saying all the women in her family frequently muttered themselves. "Typical men!" Edmund's head quickly swivelled around to glare at her. Elizabeth was taken aback for a moment but then decided to continue her train of thought. "I'm just saying, why don't you move and try to actively find her? That way, you don't just expect thing to fall into your lap," The last part was muttered to herself, not meant for Edmund to hear, but of course he did, as such are the way of things.

"Just like a girl," He retorted to both Elizabeth's obvious gibe at his gender and Lucy's lack of response. "Sulking off somewhere, and won't accept an apology." (For Edmund had apologised in his last attempt to find Lucy).

"Look, like I said before—"

"I don't care what you said!" Edmund snapped. Elizabeth was taken aback. Yes, this boy was rude and yucky, but she didn't know he was mean as well. Shush, a small, cruel voice in the back of her head napped at her, he's only being brave and saying what everyone you know is thinking. Nobody cares what you say, and you know that! Elizabeth pouted and forced the tears back from her eyes, a very hard feat for any girl.

"I don't care that you don't care," She started off. Elizabeth had the unfortunate habit of letting people know when she was upset by being very repetitive in her speech. "All I'm saying is that if you continue to stand here looking like a total moron (her uncles didn't watch their language around her) yelling out to a moron having tea with a psychopathic faun moron then it won't work." Then she sprung around on her heel (a very hard feat whilst in snow, holding back tears and wearing jelly sandals) and made a dramatic departure back into the bushes and deeper into the forest. There was a pause and then some rustling in bushes. Edmund had, apparently followed her.

"Wait!" He cried. Elizabeth continued marching forwards, tears starting to pour out of her eyes.

"Wait! I'm sorry—" He cried again.

"But you're not!" She cried. Edmund was shocked to see that when she turned around he had made her cry.

"But I...I am. I'm really very sorry."

"But you're not really sorry; I don't think you're really sorry, nobody's ever really sorry!" Elizabeth sniffed, "You just want help finding Lucy." There was silence, for Edmund's reason to follow the girl was to have help to find Lucy (although he still really didn't care what she said), and because, even if he would never admit it to her, her presence made her feel better while being in Narnia. When she left it had turned from magical and wondrous to deathly silent and a bit scary. Edmund preferred Narnia while this strange girl was around.

"What's your name, please?" This might have been the third time he had asked in the last ten minutes. Edmund wasn't very knowledgeable about patience, but he knew that anyone would be annoyed at this repetition.

"It's Elizabeth," She sniffed, not seeing what was so bad about telling him. After all, he had apologised.

"Shush!" He hissed, cutting her off half-way. Elizabeth had never been more insulted and now wanted to take telling him her name back, or to just tell him it was all an unamusing joke she was playing on him and she was just about to before he interrupted her with a, "Listen." And so she did. In the distance she heard sleigh bells and turned in that direction. Squinting, she couldn't see anything, so she decided to do the best thing, which was to investigate. She started to run in the direction of the bells with much difficulty, for she was wearing jelly shoes and they were definitely not made for running through snow, but for playing in sand. Ignoring the hisses of Edmund in the background (Wow, Edmund must have very good hearing, to be able to hear faint bells over a person talking! She thought suddenly,) the sound became closer and closer until finally she could see it: there was a very sledge drawn by what appeared to be invisible animals (for they were so white, their fur blended into the snow) but what were really reindeer. Edmund had come to stand besides her just as it approached her. Elizabeth could now spot a teeny tiny little man with a blanket of what appeared to be human hair driving the device and a very beautiful lady behind him with white skin and red lips. Elizabeth thought she must have been Snow White, for she must have been the fairest in the land and had lips as red as blood, skin as white and snow and hair as blac—Perhaps she's just gone grey, Elizabeth thought. I mean, she even had Grumpy to prove it!

At this point one must think how truly stupid Elizabeth was to not have realised who this was, for surely all of you know who this woman is. She was the evil White Witch, who had stolen Narnia and enslaved all its peoples for her own selfish purposes. Surely, Elizabeth must have recognised her, and her awfully tyranny because she had heard the stories from the faun's mouth? And then she must have realised that she should not even approach her or look her in the eyes. One or two of you might be screaming at Elizabeth to run away, far away, from this wickedness and to take Edmund with her, but to you I must say that you were not there and so you did not experience the enchantment of the witch. You did not feel the wonder, or the fear that the two children did and as naive as she was, Elizabeth, she didn't realise all of these things, because to her the wicked witches must always be ugly old hags, who were easily spotted, and this woman was far from ugly. Even as such, in all the excitement of meeting Edmund and hearing the sleigh bells, she had forgotten that the White Witch had even existed. Perhaps if Elizabeth had used her head and realised that this was the woman who bestowed fear instead of Christmas presents, she might have ran, as you wished, but it would have been far too late as the witch had already seen the two children and her fate would have ended up quite differently and would most likely be as hard as stone. So thankfully, Elizabeth wasn't the smartest girl she had ever met, and had instead stayed with Edmund to find out who this mysterious woman was.

"And what, pray, are you?" The icy woman sneered down at the two children. Elizabeth wasn't brave or strong—Edmund had made her cry naught but two minutes earlier—and so waited for Edmund to answer. She shared a panicked look with him, and discovered he was now more anxious about the woman than mystified. Still, he bravely summoned up the courage to respond.

"I'm—I'm—my name's Edmund." Though she was extremely thankful and grateful he had replied for the both of them, she felt a tinge of embarrassment for not doing it herself, a twinge of resentment for Edmund for only introducing himself and a bucket of bile for the witch, who had seemingly gained all of Edmund's trust and had heard his name as soon as he had been asked, by her. Once again, Elizabeth thought, It's only because she's so much smarter and prettier and nicer than I am.

"Is that how you address a Queen?" Elizabeth frowned. Something was pulling at her brain, but she couldn't quite think what, but she was slightly disgruntled that this boy, who had apologised, was being nice and this woman didn't even bother to acknowledge, let alone appreciate his kindness. If he had acted that way before, Elizabeth may have counted him as a friend.

"He didn't know," Elizabeth snapped. "We couldn't tell."

"I beg your pardon, your Majesty, I didn't know," Edmund nodded, thankful that Elizabeth was with him now more than ever.

"Not know of the Queen of Narnia?" She screeched. Elizabeth winced and refrained from covering her ears from the noise. "Ha!" The icy woman sneered, "You shall know us better hereafter. But I repeat—what are you?" Edmund and Elizabeth swapped a confused look.

"A girl...?" Elizabeth muttered under her breath. Edmund quickly sent her a quick glance, one that Elizabeth couldn't interpret it was so quick, and replied to Her Majesty's question, once more.

"Please, your Majesty, I don't know what you mean. I'm at school—at least I was—it's the holidays now." Elizabeth, who wasn't the smartest, doubted Edmund for that one second, and as she might tell you even now and all the years to come is that that one second was the first, last and only second that she ever doubted Edmund Pevensie, for it seemed so ridiculous and irrelevant to the Queen's apparently makeshift questions, and perhaps it was the dumbest answer to any question ever.

"But what are you?" She snapped again. "Are you an overgrown dwarf that has cut its beard off?" Elizabeth's hand flew to her throat and face in horror, picturing herself with a beard. It was quite a horrible thought.

"No, your Majesty, I have never had a beard," Edmund quickly glanced at Elizabeth.

"Oh! He's a boy," She stated, "And I'm a girl."

"A boy! A girl!" She gasped, petrified. "Do you mean that he is a Son of Adam? And that you are a Daughter of Eve?" Elizabeth glanced at Edmund, who was looking all confused towards the Queen. It seems she would have to use up the last of her courage to answer the woman. Stop being silly, Lizzy. It's only a dream. Only a dream. And Edmund needs you to answer. You need you to 's only a dream, Edmund needs and answer...

"Er, my mother's name's Heather and Edmund and I aren't exactly related..."

"I see that you are an idiot, whatever else you may be," The Queen sneered at Elizabeth. Elizabeth immediately took offense, and tears swarmed up to her eyes, chocking her up a bit. But she couldn't do anything because she had used the last of her courage. Dream, Edmund, dream, Edmund dream Edmund dreamEdmunddreamEdmund... Her thoughts blurred together as she stared at the snow, determined not to let this mean old lady see her cry. "Answer me, once and for all, or I shall lose my patience. Are you human?"

"Yes, your Majesty," Edmund answered, stealing a glance at Elizabeth. He felt horrible again, even though this time he wasn't the cause for her tears. He quickly paid attention to the witch again.

"And how, pray, did you come to enter my dominions?"

"Please, your Majesty, I came in through a wardrobe."

"A wardrobe? What do you mean?"

"I—I opened a door and just found myself here, your Majesty." Elizabeth kept quiet. She wasn't quite sure what the reaction of telling your dreams that they were just that—dreams, but if she ever had to find out, it would be with one of her nicer ones. Perhaps she'd tell Lucy...She immediately felt guilty, and envious. Guilty because she was supposed to be helping Edmund find her, and envious that she was off having tea with Tumnus while she was being interrogated by a mean old woman who thought her stupid.

"My poor child," The witch cooed, Elizabeth snapped her head up. She must have gotten lost in her thoughts, for Edmund seemed relieve and she felt like she had missed something. Stupid girl, Lizzy! Pay attention! She scolded herself. "How cold you look. Come sit with me here on the sledge and I will put my mantle round you and we shall talk." Edmund heeded her requests and glanced nervously at me. Sitting at his feet, she tucked him in to her fur cape (it looked to be made of polar bear, a fact that distressed Elizabeth). "Perhaps something hot to drink? Should you like that?"

"Yes please, your Majesty," Edmund replied, once again. Elizabeth huffed on the inside and wiped away her tears (she was sure no one was looking at her,) bemoaning the fact that Edmund kept calling her 'your Majesty'. It wasn't the fact that he called the witch that instead of herself (okay, so it was a bit), but it was mostly the fact that he couldn't think of anything else to call her. The woman collected a copper bottle from her wrapping and dropped a diamond liquid onto the snow. Immediately, with a loud hiss, there was a sparkling goblet of drink on the ground. Elizabeth was very impressed with this display of magic before she realised it was magic. Her eyes widened in realisation. This was the witch. The White Witch. The dwarf jumped down and raced the jewelled cup to Edmund. He drank over half before he caught sight of Elizabeth and offered her some. He appeared to still be alive, so she attentively inched forwards close enough to Edmund. She opened her mouth to whisper to him, but the Queen stole his attention away. She sipped the cup, warming up slowly, though her feet were still cold. By the time she was finished, Edmund was offering her some Turkish Delight. She grabbed a piece and ate it slowly. It was definitely better than Haigh's, Elizabeth thought. Then she wanted some more. She craved more and noticed that Edmund was starting to scoff down the sweet and was forgetting to call her Majesty or any other name Elizabeth could think of. A small part of Elizabeth rejoiced, but a smaller part hissed that he was bewitched. The more Elizabeth tried to convince herself otherwise, the more Edmund gave her evidence that he was well and truly bewitched. Elizabeth sat down on the ground and began to ponder how to get herself and Edmund out of this mess. After all, he did apologise. And he was polite. Elizabeth couldn't think of anything and so tuned back into the conversation. The gist of it was that Edmund would become a Prince and his siblings members of court. All for Turkish Delight. Huffing, Elizabeth stood up right as the sledge pulled away. She was unhappy and felt forgotten and horrible and cold and she wanted more of that Turkish Delight, and where could she find that drink on Earth? She turned to face Ed, to warn him of the witch and how the faun seemed nicer and how he seemed more believable but Lucy chose to appear at the very moment, coming out of the woods.

"Oh Edmund! So you've gotten in too! And you've meet Lizzy!" She threw her arms around me. "Oh Lizzy, I thought I'd never see you again, seeing as you're from the future and all, but then I came back here and went to Mr Tumnus' to see if you were there, but you weren't and I was so sad to have thought to have lost a new friend, but Tumnus cheered me up with tea and stories and oh, he sang me the most beautiful Narnian lullaby! Isn't it wonderful?" She turned back to Edmund, "And now—"

"All right," He cut her off, rudely. "I see you were right and it is a magic wardrobe after all. I'll say I'm sorry if you like. But where on earth have you been all this time? I was looking for you everywhere."

"No you weren't," Elizabeth said, confused. "You were—"

"Shut up!" He snapped at her and once again made poor, poor Elizabeth cry. Tear up, actually, because she wouldn't let him see her cry in front of him again. She detangled herself from Lucy (another hard feat, perhaps the hardest in all of Narnia) and stormed off in the direction she learnt to go home. Quite quickly, her eyes were opening up to see her white, white ceiling, which she was now going to ask her daddy to paint another colour.