Here is just a short little moment to kick the story off. Everything starts in Chapter 1. This story will incorporate pieces of the movie and pieces of the book. I promise if you are a big fan of the books, you will notice specific things that come directly from C.S. Lewis.

This begins after the kids have found what if left of Cair Paravel, right when they are leaving the treasure chamber.

Disclaimer-I do not own Narnia or any of the characters created by Lewis. I just like to play in his world.

Enjoy and please leave a review!

Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

Prologue

As Peter followed Ed towards the stone staircase, a glimmer caught his attention. The light from Ed's electric torch illuminated a darkened corner that none of the children noticed before. "Wait a tick, Ed," Peter said, as he walked towards the corner.

"I don't recognize that," Susan added from the bottom of the staircase, for both girls now noticed the glimmer too.

"No," Lucy responded, "but she is quite beautiful." Shining in the light was a statue. Her carved hair fell down her back in waves of stone. One hand stretched out before her, while the other clutched the fabric of her dress. Her non-seeing eyes followed the line of her hand, both wanting something just out of reach.

"By jolly, I wonder where she came from," Ed said as he reached out and let his hand graze the cold stone of her face. Possessive anxiety bubbled in Peter's chest as he watched his brother. With a frown he shook his head and turned away from Edmund, his eyes closed tight in an attempt to rid his mind of the new, strange thoughts.

"We really should be getting to bed," Susan said in a motherly tone as Lucy stifled a yawn beside her.

"True enough," responded Ed, and the three siblings turned and once again headed for the stairs leaving the High King alone in the dark with his eyes still shut tight. Noticing the new found silence, Peter slowly opened his eyes and turned back towards the statue. As he stood before her, the strangest feeling began to burn within him. He cast his gaze down her petite figure, taking in every aspect of her body. Her eyes seemed to stare directly into his, and her outreached hand was nearly touching his warm cheek. Peter's pulse quickened as the desire to run his hand along her stone torso grew, but the silliness of it caused him to keep his hand securely at his side.

"You coming, Pete?" Ed's voice called down. The strange burning left Peter as quickly as it came, and giving the statue one last glance, Peter turned on his heal and headed for the stairs. Hopefully things would work themselves out in the morning

And so it begins...

Chapter 1

A Simple Touch Will Do

Luckily for Peter, he would not have to wait for the morning. The cold, hard ground beneath him and clear sky above him made it nearly impossible to fall asleep. His mind refused to settle as he stared at the endless see of midnight blue and gold. It was her. Although she was nothing more that a block of solid stone carved beautifully by the hand of a loving craftsman, the twitch of her worried lips and the blankness of her eyes floated through Peter's mind like a soft lullaby that he recalled, yet could not place. Even the stars he gazed up at seemed to morph themselves into her silhouette.

Finding the sky frustrating, Peter turned on his side and stared at the dark corridor that led to the treasure chamber. For a few short moments his mind seemed to calm, but as his eyes focused steadily upon the staircase before him, Peter's heart and stomach twitched in excited anxiety.

Something was calling to him.

Peter couldn't tell if it was the wind or his mind whispering his name and pulling at his clothes, but his eyes became transfixed by the stairwell and his ears only heard the call of a soft voice. Quietly, Peter rose to his feet, each step bringing him closer to the corridor. He quickly reached the stairs, but the darkness that surrounded it was complete. Remembering Ed's electric torch, Peter turned quickly to his brother and searched his person with hungry eyes. The torch was securely clutched in Edmund's hand. With careful steps, Peter approached his brother and slowly wiggled the small flashlight from Edmund's grasp. Thanking Aslan that Edmund was a heavy sleeper, Peter carefully made his way back to the stairwell and began to descend.

The light found her immediately, making her cold stone glow eerily in the otherwise dark chamber. Peter's eyes were transfixed as he stepped onto the flat, dirt covered floor; the noise echoing softly as his shoes crunched the debris beneath them. With a shaking hand Peter set the electric torch upon the ground, its light illuminating the statue from below creating a mask of shadows across her face. Unsure of what to do, Peter stood just outside of the light and rubbed his sweaty palms across the fabric of his pants. Although the voice was now silenced, energy formed around his body and propelled him forward. Lacking the strength to fight it, Peter stepped into the light.

He reached the statue quickly; her stony form now only inches from his finger tips. As a ragged breath escaped Peter's lips, the energy that now consumed him moved his hand steady towards her. Carefully, Peter placed the tips of his fingers upon the would-be flesh of her hand.

The stone warmed instantly.

Peter's heart was filled with a renewed confidence as his palm grazed up her arm and towards her face, the stone no longer cold under his skin. With the gentleness of a lover, Peter allowed his hand to slip across her chiseled cheek and onto her lips.

Feeling the warmth of breath pass over his fingers, Peter whipped his hand away. He stared at the statue, which was still as hard and silent as before. With a pounding heart, Peter slowly approached the statue again. He stopped when the palm of her outstretched hand cupped his burning cheek. The cold stone turned to warmth, and skin met skin. Shaken by the sudden contact, Peter placed his large palm over the hand that touched his cheek. It was warm—alive. The soft, delicate hand bent under the pressure of his calloused, strong one, pushing its warmth deeper into his skin. His heart swelled at the feeling.

With a burning excitement, Peter touched the cheek of the statue with his free hand. Peachy warmth spread from his finger tips and encompassed the cold stone. Allowing his hand to slip from his cheek, Peter's now shaking palm rubbed down the length of her arm, the blue fabric of her gown following directly behind it. Like a plague of life, color and warmth spread over the statue with vibrant speed. Soon Peter found himself standing before the figure of a young woman, her hand still reaching and her eyes still glossed over.

Without warning her hand dropped to her side and her body collapsed. Peter barely grabbed her before she hit the dirt covered floor. With little difficulty, Peter lowered her to the ground, and cradled her head in the crook of this right arm. Unsure of what to do, he lightly tapped her cheek. The girl offered no response, so he gradually added more pressure to his taps. A smile covered his face when her pupils contracted slightly before becoming quite large due to the lack of light. Peter waited as the girl closed and opened her eyes quickly, trying to focus on the smiling face before her. Finally, her brown eyes locked with his, and a moment of complete peace moved through the room.

Then she screamed.

Peter recoiled at the sudden outburst and tried to avoid her now flailing arms. In her struggle to get free, the girl's elbow connected directly with his nose, which immediately began to fill with blood. Both of Peter's hands went to his pounding face, causing him to lose balance and tip backwards. He yelled in pain as his head came into contact with the hard wall. Peter's right hand left his nose and reached to the back of his head, which was now sporting a lovely lump.

"Get off me you insolent creep!" the girl yelled as she attempted to make it to her feet, but the hem of her gown was securely stuck under Peter's shoe. Peter's head began to pounded from his injuries and the young woman's incessant screaming. He growned in response.

"Aslan!" she yelled. "Telmarines are in the castle! Boregard! Duddlebeard! Someone!"

"Be quiet!" Peter responded through his blood soaked hand. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I just…I just brought you to life!" Attempting to calm the girl, Peter made a grab for her hands, but this only caused her to fall backwards as she tried to escape him. Finally, she found herself completely free, the ripped hem of her dress still securely under Peter's shoe. Peter watched as she struggled to her feet and disappeared into the darkness. Moments later she appeared before him with a sword clutched tightly in her hand.

"Move and I shall run you threw," she said quietly, her eyes fixed intensely on Peter. Putting his hands in the air to show he was unarmed, Peter slowly made his way to his feet.

"What is your name?" the girl asked; her sword now pointed directly at Peter's chest. "Speak quickly. I have no patience for Telmarines." Peter pinched the bridge of his nose, and squeezed his eyes shut. Part of him wished he was back on the cold ground and the girl was still a statue.

"I am Peter. Peter Pevensie, and I am most definitely not a Telmarine. Will you please put the sword down?" Peter responded as he looked with disgust at the blood that now covered the tips of his fingers. Grimacing, he attempted to breath out of his clogged, throbbing nose.

"I am not that foolish," she responded with an air of superiority.

"I order you to put the sword down," Peter commanded as he ended the examination of his nose and looked the girl directly in the eyes.

"Order me?" she questioned in a mocking tone.

"Yes, I order you. As High King of Narnia, I order you to put the bloody sword down." The girl faltered at his words, giving Peter the perfect moment to lunge towards her. In one swift move the sword was across the room, and the girl's arms were pinned tightly to her side.

"How dare you," she said through clenched teeth. Peter held her tighter as she began to struggle, her back pressed securely to his chest. He couldn't help but notice that her dark hair smelled of vanilla and roses.

This is the state that Peter's very sleepy, very confused siblings found him in. Edmund's electric torch was forgotten in the corner, while Peter's arms were wrapped tightly around the waist of an awfully unhappy young woman. Only to add to the situation's absurdity, Peter's nose was planted directly between the girl's shoulder and neck, where he seemed to be quite content to simply breathe deeply.

"Peter?" Lucy questioned, for she seemed to be the only one not shocked enough to say something. Peter's head immediately shot up at his sister's voice, and his arms not only dropped from the girl's waist, but they quickly pushed her away.

"What is this about, Peter?" Susan finally said as she stepped down from the sixteenth stair and headed for the girl.

"Stay away from me," the girl said to Susan, who, wearing a look of complete dejection, stopped walking.

"Really, I'm just trying to help you," Susan replied to the girl, then looking at her siblings, "Some people truly are rude."

"She isn't rude, Susan," Peter interjected as his sister began to criticize the new girl, "she is probably scared."

"Scared? Peter your face is covered in blood. I truly do not think someone who is simply scared would be able to inflict such brutal damage in such a short period of time. Furthermore, when I was merely trying to be nice, she shot a very harsh remark back at me, which—"

"Susan, honestly you are being quite silly," Edmund said cutting off his sister in the middle of her rant, which caused her face to change a lovely shade of light red. "We did come down at an awkward moment, and we have little clue what happened before. Peter would scare anyone." At this Peter turned to Edmund wearing a scowl, blood still clinging to parts of his face and hands.

"And what do you mean by that? I have never done anything that is remotely scary to anybody." Peter quickly fell into a rant much like his sister's, explaining how he was a perfect gentleman to the girl, and never did any little thing to harm her. Edmund continued to throw harsh blows to his brother's pride—unintentionally, of course—while Susan carried on her earlier speech on the rudeness of their visitor. While all of this was going on, Lucy glanced at the girl in question, who was standing with her back to the dusty wall watching Peter intently. She observed instantly that the girl sported a remarkable resemblance to the statue they noticed earlier.

"You're her!" Lucy said suddenly, causing her three siblings and the girl to look at her attentively.

"Who?" Edmund asked his sister. Peter shifted uncomfortably beside him. He had hoped that no one would notice that statue missing from the corner, for explaining how exactly she came to life would prove to be awkward.

"She is the statue. The one from the corner. The one none of us had ever seen before," Lucy explained rather excitedly. Peter's hand once again grasped the bridge of his nose. Why does she have to notice everything he thought to himself. Susan glanced at the corner where they saw the statue hours earlier. Nothing was there except for the light of Edmund's forgotten electric torch.

"How does a statue just spring to life?" asked Susan with a confused scowl.

"Well, if this is Narnia, something such as that would be possible," explained Edmund, obvious excitement filling his voice.

"Why don't we ask her?" suggested Lucy.

"She is a statue," countered Susan.

"Not anymore," Edmund added.

"Well I would rather like to know how exactly she came to life," Susan responded and looked accusingly at Peter, whose hand was still securely clutching the bridge of his nose. At this silence filled the room, and Peter found all eyes focused on him. After shifting uncomfortably for a few moments, Peter replied. "I just touched her."

"Why were you touching a statue?" Lucy questioned. "In the middle of the night?"

Peter did not have an answer for this, at least not one that his siblings would understand, so he chose to quickly change the subject. "We need to decide what to do with her."

"What do you suggest?" asked Edmund.

"Well, she does seem to be rather hostile. Perhaps we should tie her up," Peter responded while glancing at the drying blood on his hand.

"You most certainly will not tie me up," the girl said suddenly, causing all Pevensies to jump slightly. They had quite nearly forgotten that she was actually there.

"That is a little silly, Peter," said Susan.

"Silly? You were the one accusing her of being rude only moments ago," Peter responded.

"I have a better idea," said Lucy. "Why don't we simply ask her who she is?" Seeming to like the idea, the three other Pevensies turned their eyes toward the girl.

"Well…?" asked Peter after a moment of silence. "Who are you?"

The girl glanced quickly between the four siblings. She seemed unsure if she should answer, but after a long moment, the girl lifted her head higher and looked Peter square in the eyes. "I am Cara Noor," she responded. "High Queen of Narnia."