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01. Prologue

[Author's Note: So yes I’m gonna be that girl. 3 unfinished books left unattended yet she starts another new book 🤦‍♀️ This book starts from an idea I had when flying just hours ago and I just had to. Sorry. This is a crossover between Marvel Cinematic Universe and Narnia. That’s right. We pick up right after Natasha Romanoff's eventful sacrifice in Avengers: Endgame, to which I’m still very very sore about, and transport her to… NARNIA! And since I have the hots for Caspian, this book will be a Natasha x King Caspian fanfic. Age complexity is completely ignored here. I didn’t read the whole book so if there are errors, DON’T KILL ME. Takes place just a couple years after the event of Narnia & The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Enjoy!]

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Natasha.”

That deep, somber voice coming from behind her instantly triggered Nat's fighter instinct. With much speed and accuracy that only a trained spy and assassin could muster, her arms were already stretched in front of her, gun pointed at the person behind her.

No. It was not a person.

A huge creature– a lion with golden mane, stared at her with glowing golden eyes. She was expecting the animal to pounce at her, but something about the creature seemed tame despite its wildness. The great lion stood regally on his monstrous paws, posture relaxed. But his face–his eyes–God, they were so alive. So human yet wasn’t.

No. He was more than human.

How? Natasha could not even begin to comprehend. Sure she knew a raccoon who could talk and send her emails, so she wouldn’t be too surprised if this lion was the same. But something about the lion kept bugging her–especially as he looked at her with his knowing eyes. As if he knew all about her. All the good. The bad. As if he was familiar with her–and that he was okay with it.

Who is he?

“Where am I?” she questioned the lion with much wariness, her eyes sharpened as she stared him back. “Where’s Clint?” she demanded, her silky voice absent from emotion as she aimed her gun steadily at him.

The lion swished his tail almost leisurely. He blinked slowly as he studied the Black Widow.

“He is now out of your reach,” the lion finally answered, “You knew this the moment you sacrificed yourself for him.”

A deafening silence filled the atmosphere of the somewhat empty world around her, yet the lion seemed like he didn’t mind or even noticed the prolonged silence between them.

“Did he get the Soul Stone?” Natasha finally asked, emotion swirled in her azure blue eyes despite the perfect calm in her voice.

“Yes,” answered the golden lion with a bit of a wistful smile around his big, furry face, “You did a noble thing, little one.”

A sense of relief seeped through her being. Natasha lowered her gun, now not seeing any way she should fight any longer. Her survival instinct would never let her turn her back on a giant lion such as he, but at that moment, Natasha couldn’t care less. He could do whatever he wanted.

She was done, in every sense of the word, and she accepted it.

The red haired Avenger let her eyes drifted around the infinite emptiness around her as dark, ruby and purple sky hung above glowing above her, and the shallow, eerily still water that stopped just to the ankle of her boots.

“So this is death?” she mumbled to herself, a sense of wistfulness rushing in as she took in her dark surroundings, “It’s not as bad as I thought eternity would be. In fact,” Nat holstered her gun at her side and let her shoulders relaxed, “It seems like the fitting final destination for me. A retirement,” she added the last part with a hint of melancholy humor in her voice as one side of her lips curled up into a small, wistful smirk.

The lion walked next to her, his eyes cast towards the unending horizon that both of them gazed at.

“Is that what you want?” he asked her, tilting his head towards the assassin, “To rest?”

“I didn’t realize I have a choice.”

“Everyone has a choice.”

Natasha's forehead wrinkled in deep thought before she turned her attention towards the lion. “Can you bring me back?”

The lion gave her a rather fond, fatherly smile that somewhat sent warmth down the crevices of her cold heart. She never had a father; she wondered if the compassion in the great lion's eyes was what she was missing all those years, yet soon she cast that thought away.

“Nothing ever happens the same way twice, Natasha,” he replied that which made her heart shrunk inside her chest. “But death, unlike what most people believe, is not the end, rather a new beginning. Sometimes, it’s another chance.”

“Another mission?”

“If you so choose,” nodded the lion, “Yet I know you are also weary of life. And rest is another option that I have the power to give to you.”

Natasha looked at the lion with both question and awe. What entity can have that kind of power? To choose whether to let her soul rest for eternity or to live?

“My friend once told me that even though there is something to be done doesn’t always mean that it has to be done. He told me to rest,” she shook her head. “I couldn’t,” she smiled a little.

The lion hummed, the sound deep yet strangely comforting to her soul, “In that case, I am sending you to a place called Narnia, to a young man who is in need of your protection,” the lion spoke, eyes glinting knowingly at her, “And perhaps, your friendship as well.”

The red haired Avenger nodded with a renewed determination. “How do I find him and what do I do?”

“Leave that to me. You will know him and what to do when the time comes.”

Again, the lion spoke with such an authority and power that she had never encountered before. In her awe and curiosity, she blurted, “Who are you?”

“My name is Aslan. But in your world, I am called by another name.”

“What is it?”

“That, little one, you will have to learn by yourself,” he said with his feline smile that Natasha couldn’t help but smile with him. It’s contagious. “Now. The time has come. Quick, hold on to my mane.”

That was the oddest thing someone had ever ordered her to do, yet for some reason she found herself walking towards the fluffy creature and ran her fingers along the surprisingly the softest fur she ever touched.

Something changed in her when she felt his warmth and his waiting, noble eyes as he looked at her. Natasha suddenly felt undeserving, filthy and crooked being next to him–and she hated herself for it. She strangely felt rather than touched his mane like that, she should be falling to her knees and bury her face on his feet. The feelings in her chest were overwhelming and she was tempted to pry her fingers from his mane, but the kindness and acceptance in those clean eyes had such gravity that she couldn’t escape from.

As she held on to those fluffy, golden mane, Aslan suddenly let out a glorious roar that ripped through the emptiness and shook the ground. The still water on her feet trembled at the sound and began to rise like torrent, swallowing both her and him. Oddly, with Aslan next to her, she never felt so at ease despite the water now going up towards her nose.

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