Log: Quentin & Eliot Who: Quentin Coldwater & Eliot Waugh What: Surprise, it's an Eliot When: Nowish Where: Narnia; around the lamp post Warnings: Nah
Truth be told, Narnia may have been one of the other fictional worlds that Quentin had wished was real at some point in his life. Fillory had been his first love, but there were a lot of similarities between the two. Parts of the landscape, talking animals, sentient trees, the siblings finding their way into a magic land, and don't forget the kings and queens of earth. A plus? These stories hadn't been completely ruined for him because the author was a fucking sociopath and pedophile that turned one of those siblings into a Mothman.
What Hawaii might have been to most of the Goodland residents, Narnia was to Quentin Coldwater. It was like stepping into Fillory again for the first time before he knew the truth, and before the stories were tarnished. Almost. Fillory was still, well, Fillory. Though, could he just say that Cair Paravel was really fucking cool? It wasn't Castle Whitespire, but he could imagine sitting in one of the thrones with the Great Lion before him, placing a crown on his head. Quite the difference between of their makeshift ceremony in Fillory.
Instead of the Magnificent, the Gentle, the Just, and the Valiant it was the Spectacular, the Destroyer, the Wise, and... the Moderately Socially Maladjusted. One of these was not like the other.
He spent some of his time wandering around, exploring around and feeling like a mystical tourist. He'd had tea with a pair of talking rabbits, gotten directions from a fox, and watched a group centaur galloping by through the woods. Bumbled up in a heavy coat, it was about an hour or so into his latest excursion into the snowy woods. It was the second time he'd been in this particular area, since of course he'd had to check out the lamp post day one, but this time he was looking for something else. The wardrobe - or the door that led to the wardrobe. He had no clue if it existed in this pocket version of Narnia, but it was worth a try, right?
On his handwritten map that he carried around, Quentin looked down to see he was coming up on the lamppost which had to mean the wardrobe, if it was there, couldn't be that far ahead. Stuffing the map into a coat pocket, he walked a section of trees and smiled when he saw the light coming from the post. There was the small clearing right around it, and when he looked up, Quentin saw that someone else was there too. If he entertained the thought that seeing him again was possible, Quentin would have recognized him even from behind almost instantly, but he'd long ago accepted that it wasn't likely to happen.
"Um, hi," he started, taking a step or two closer but was still several feet away. "You haven't seen something that looks like the entrance to the back of a wardrobe by chance, have you?" He looked down briefly to pick out the map again, and in those couple of seconds, the man turned around.
"I think it's supposed to be somewhere arou-" As soon as he looked up, Quentin cut himself off and froze. He didn't think his eyes were playing tricks on him, but... was this real?