something about the eyes


South side of the Caldron Pool
Lantern Waste
Northwestern Narnia


Hereabouts is a small path that borders the Caldron Pool. It curves northeast, crossing the smaller stream that flows out of the pool just north of here, and leads to the north side and the wood that lies beyond. This area is clear, but sheltered by the cliffs. To the south, the path continues and eventually disappears into a lush green little meadow.


Lanisen sits cross-legged with his back against a rock, watching the sun on the pool and eating an apple.

Mrs. Beaver makes her way along the path, shaking out the water from her fur and righting her glasses. Spotting Lanisen, she calls “Good morning, dearie!”

Lanisen glances up, alert, and grins when he finds her. “Hello,” he answers, getting to his feet.

Mrs. Beaver says, “And how are you this morning? Lanisen, wasn’t it.”

Lanisen says, ducking his head, “Yes, ma’am. I’m, I’m well, how’re you?”

Mrs. Beaver smiles and nods, “Good, Good. Mr Beaver and I are both well this morning.”

Lanisen says, “I’m glad to hear it.” He pauses. “Thanks, thank you again for supper the other day.”

Mrs. Beaver beams up at the son of Adam, “Not a bit of trouble. Not a bit. Mr Beaver and I don’t get so much company in the way of sons of Adam and Daughters of late and we’re pleased as anything to have you. You just come on down anytime you like.”

Lanisen half-grins at her, but seems slightly anxious. “Um,” he says. “There’s, the peach trees over near the Lamp-post have fruit comin’ ripe; shall I bring you a basket tomorrow or sometime?”

Mrs. Beaver brightens. “Why, I had no idea the peaches were getting ripe so soon. That’d be lovely of you, dear. Mr. Beaver and I would be very grateful to you.”

Lanisen looks relieved. “They are,” he answers. “Apples, too. I’ll bring some by.”

Mrs. Beaver says, with a kindly smile, “Well, thank you.”

Lanisen shifts his weight. “What’ve you been doin’ today?”

Mrs. Beaver says, “Well, there was Mr. Beaver’s breakfast, then a little cleaning and some sewing to do. Mrs Badger, who lives not far away noticed my curtains and said she absolutely loved them. So I’ll be making some for her. And I thought while I have the time, I’ll just make my way up to Knollsted and see what they have there.”

Lanisen blinks. “Sounds like a busy day!”

Mrs. Beaver says, “Oh, not too busy, dearie, just pleasantly full. Just a little fall cleaning before the winter comes.”

Lanisen says, glancing toward a nearby maple already beginning to turn brilliantly red, “It’s gettin’ that time, ain’t it.”

Mrs. Beaver nods, “But thanks to Aslan, we don’t have to fear the winter so any more.”

Lanisen grins at this, quick and bright.

Mrs. Beaver says, “Now, while I’m thinking of it, are you planning to go south in the winter? It’ll be mighty cold. And there’s the dam of course. Always welcome to stay.”

Lanisen says, shifting, “Um, I’m– I’m meanin’ to go back to Cair Paravel before the winter gets bad.”

Mrs. Beaver nods. “Now, do you have enough blankets and supplies?”

Lanisen says, “Yes, ma’am, I think so.”

Mrs. Beaver nods, “Good to hear. Now if you find you’re needing something you just come right over and Mr Beaver or I’ll help you.”

Lanisen rubs his elbow, dimpling up. “Thank you, ma’am,” he answers, ducking his head. “I’ll– I’ll remember.”

Mrs. Beaver smiles up at the son of Adam. “Listen to me going on’ and on. Mr Beaver’d have some something to say about that,” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “Well, just know that you’re always welcome to stay with us, especially when it starts getting towards winter.”

Lanisen tips his head at her, squinting and half-smiling. “You don’t hardly know me.”

Mrs. Beaver says, “Mr Beaver and I’ve seen many folk in our years, good and bad. There’s always a look about them. You have the look of the right sort about you.”

Lanisen looks rather troubled by this.

Mrs. Beaver looks up at the son of Adam questioningly.

Lanisen says, “Sorry; sorry; only I’ve known– How can you, how can you know that about somebody?”

Mrs. Beaver says, “It’s something about the eyes, Mr Beaver always says. When you’ve lived in Narnia long enough, you can tell.”

Lanisen says, “Oh.”

Mrs. Beaver smiles.

Lanisen avoids her eyes. “Um,” he says, and shifts his weight. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you from your day.”

Mrs. Beaver says, “Don’t you worry about that, dearie. I’ve always plenty of time to talk.”

Lanisen asks, half-smiling, “Even with curtains?”

Mrs. Beaver nods, smiling. “Even with curtains.”

Lanisen’s grin widens briefly, but he glances at her sidelong as if he’s not entirely sure how much of this to believe.

Mrs. Beaver says, “Don’t you worry any about Mrs Badger’s certains. Father Christmas has given me a new sewing machine contraption and I’ll whip them up tonight.””

Lanisen confesses, “I don’t know anything about sewin’.”

Mrs. Beaver smiles. “Not to worry.”

Lanisen says, “I should be headin’ toward Panacea’s anyway.”

Mrs. Beaver nods, “I’ll bid you a good day then Aslan’s blessings on you. Don’t forget the you’re always welcome to come to the dam.”

Lanisen says, “Thanks. I’ll, I’ll bring some peaches by.”

Mrs. Beaver nods, “Much appreciated.”

Lanisen ducks his head to her and bows, then picks up his satchel.

Mrs. Beaver waves a paw as he heads out.

Lanisen makes his way down the path, heading north into the Waste.

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