Categories > Cartoons > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles > The Lion, the Cat and the Turtles
This is the third multi-part fanfic I upload to this site -- and the second one starring the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It's also, without question, shaping up to be the longest story I've written so far... not that this really says all that much, given that "Because She Told Me To," my former "longest story" was only seven chapters and sixty thousand words long; not all that long compared to a lot of the fanfics you see here. And probably, this one isn't going to come close to the length of the longer stories here... but it's definitely going to be at least as long as one of the actual Narnia books.
Now, keep in mind that this is based on the Narnia books, not the movie or the TV series, and there will be spoilers for just about the entire series -- particularly for "Prince Caspian" and "The Silver Chair" -- though I've tried to make the story accessible for people who haven't read those books... you should hopefully be able to get the story fine even if you don't know much about Narnia. (Still, if you haven't read the books, I'd definitely recommend that you do so, they're good!)
I've rated the fic PG, just in case, since there will be some violence and bloodshed in later chapters -- probably nothing you wouldn't find in the original Narnia books, though.
Well, that's enough banter for now... I'll leave you to the actual story after I've answered the question that I know a lot of you are probably asking yourselves right now: Why in Aslan's name a crossover between Narnia and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?!
The answer is: I just wanted to see if I could do it!
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THE LION, THE CAT AND THE TURTLES
Prologue
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Splinter looked sharply up as he heard the footsteps from outside, raising himself and hurrying over to the entrance.
They hadn't found him; he felt that they hadn't found him. But his feelings could be wrong; it could be that they were coming back bearing good news. For a lingering second, the old rat clutched to this tiny strand of hope, which broke the moment the panel door slid aside and three tired-looking mutant Turtles trudged inside.
"My sons..." said Splinter silently. There was no point in completing the question.
It was Donatello who spoke up first, leaning against his bo staff and looking about ready to collapse. "Sorry, Master Splinter. We looked everywhere we could think of. No sign of him."
"And we musta searched the entire sewer," Michelangelo walked over to the couch and sat heavily down; waking his cat, Klunk, who had been sleeping there for the better part of an hour.
"And April and Casey haven't seen him either," said Raphael, clutching the hilt of his sai tightly. "They said they'd keep an eye out for 'im, but..."
"Then it is as I feared," said Splinter heavily. "Leonardo is gone."
And so it seemed. The day before, Leonardo had gone out early on a solo patrol, having promised Donatello that he would check up on his sewer security system and taking note of any parts that might need some improvement or repair.
He hadn't come back.
Sometime during the afternoon, and still not particularly worried because Leonardo knew how to take care of himself, Splinter had been about to make himself a cup of tea when he had felt it. It had been a strong sensation that had almost made him lose the teacup; an unmistakable feeling that something was happening to Leonardo -- something strange and possibly dangerous. The sensation had been very brief, and had passed only after a few seconds, but it was enough for Splinter.
He had sent his other three sons out to look for Leonardo, while remaining behind in the lair himself in case his oldest son should make it back on his own and need help. But the night had passed, and so had most of the following day, and Leonardo hadn't shown up.
Repeated attempts at reaching him spiritually, through intense meditation, had proved unsuccessful. A couple of times, Splinter thought he could sense a glimpse of Leonardo, but both times it had vanished as soon as it had appeared, leaving behind only a curious sensation of... displaced time.
"What do you suppose happened to him, Master?" Michelangelo had lifted Klunk up and was now concentrating more on petting the cat than anything else -- it was, Splinter thought, probably more of an attempt at comforting himself than Klunk.
"I do not know, Michelangelo," said the old rat, and felt older and more tired than ever. "But you are all exhausted, my sons. Try to get a few hours' rest. Then, we will contact all our friends and allies, and ask for their assistance. In the meantime, I shall try reaching Leonardo through the astral plane again."
"I'm gonna help," said Raphael immediately.
"You should sleep, Raphael," said Splinter.
"I'm not gonna sleep when Leo might be in danger!" Raphael snapped.
"You will be of no use to him if you wear yourself out!" Splinter snapped back, but then regretted the harsh tone and continued, much more gently: "Please, Raphael. Rest assured; we will find Leonardo, but for now you must sleep!"
Raphael grumbled, but to everyone's great relief he didn't argue. He just turned around and walked off to his room, pausing only briefly to punch the wall beside his bedroom door before he vanished inside.
"He's just worried, you know," said Donatello, turning to Splinter. "We all are. It's not like Leo to just vanish like that without a single word."
"I know, Donatello," Splinter answered softly. "I just pray that he is all right."
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After his sons had gone to bed, Splinter retired to his own room and once again settled down to meditate. To his surprise, Klunk followed him in and insisted on lying in his lap -- it seemed like the cat didn't think he'd had enough attention and petting when Michelangelo had gone to sleep, so now he was demanding it from the only one still awake, namely Splinter.
Worried though he may be, the old rat couldn't help but smile. Michelangelo was definitely spoiling Klunk -- but then again, a sewer wasn't exactly the ideal place for a cat to live, and so his son apparently felt he should make it up to Klunk by being extra nice to him.
It wasn't the easiest thing to meditate with a cat in your lap, but somehow Splinter managed it anyway; a life with four sons having long since taught him how to meditate under less-than-ideal conditions. He managed to put his worry aside, to reach the necessary state of calm, to just... focus....
Let go of the concern. Clear your mind and let him find you...
And then, all of a sudden, Splinter felt an almost physical change in the room around him. He had a vague feeling that his surroundings widened and cleared, that everything around him grew brighter, and that the air he was breathing in gradually changed from that of the underground lair to the fresh, cool air of an open landscape.
Splinter forced himself to not fling his eyes open and stare. He hadn't often experienced this sort of thing during meditation, but it had happened once or twice, and he knew that if he went too fast with this, he would simply wake up and find himself back in his room. So he sat, breathing silently and rhythmically, letting the surroundings settle completely before he slowly opened his eyes.
He was sitting on a grass-covered hill under a clear, blue sky. As far as he could see, there was nothing but grass and sky, himself... and for some reason, Klunk, still lying in his lap with half-closed eyes. Splinter was a little surprised that he still saw the cat, when everything else in the physical world had faded away to give place to these serene grasslands, but perhaps it was merely the result of Klunk being in his lap at the time.
Was this an actual, physical place that his spirit was now visiting, or was it just a place he himself had created in his mind? He wasn't sure. It didn't quite feel like anywhere he'd been before, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it was familiar somehow.
"Mrrrow?" said Klunk from his lap, looking curiously up at him before rising himself, stretching and jumping down on the grass. Strangely enough, it seemed like the cat could see the landscape perfectly as well, at least he immediately started to bat at a blade of grass and twitching his tail as if ready to pounce on invisible or imagined insects.
"Curious," said Splinter to Klunk, discovering that his voice was clear and strong, even if he wasn't really speaking out loud at once. "It appears I have brought you with me as a passenger. Why would this be?"
Klunk didn't answer, but then Splinter hadn't expected him to. No matter how smart Michelangelo would brag that his cat was, Klunk was still just an ordinary cat and had neither the intelligence nor the capacity to speak. So instead of waiting for an answer that wouldn't come anyway, Splinter raised himself and looked around. It was a clear beautiful day with the hint of a breeze in the air around him, a breeze that to Klunk's obvious delight made the grass move in waves; perfect for pouncing upon.
Splinter turned around to get a better oversight over his entire surroundings, and stopped and froze.
There was a huge lion standing right behind him.
His first instinct was to grab Klunk and run, to break his trance and let them both return to their bodies in the underground lair, but somehow he couldn't quite get himself to do it.
"If you flee," said the lion calmly (and Splinter was surprised to find that he wasn't at all surprised that it could talk), "you will never find your son. Stay, and you may yet find the help you need."
Klunk had stopped pouncing the grass, and oddly enough walked straight up to the lion with his tail erect, looking up at it the way he used to do when greeting anyone he knew. The lion bowed its enormous head and touched the cat's forehead briefly and gently with its tongue before looking up at Splinter again.
"Do you know where my son is, master Lion?" said Splinter, deciding that whatever the lion might or might not do, it was obviously not going to attack. He knew that on a spirit-wandering like this you could sometimes be met by a guiding spirit that might take the shape of an animal -- but it could sometimes be hard to determine whether the spirit you met was a benevolent or a malevolent one. "The one named Leonardo?"
"I do," the lion answered. Its voice was soft and powerful at the same time, like a flowing river, but with an underlying rumble that could have been a growl, or a purr. "Your son has been taken away from his own time and his own world and now finds himself in one of my worlds, far away from yours."
"Then please," said Splinter, "how can I get to him?"
The lion looked at him without speaking for a brief moment, and then said, in a somewhat stronger voice: "Your son is in the land of Narnia. He involuntarily stepped through one of the doorways between your world and Narnia, and was unable to find his way back. He will have to stay there until someone comes for him."
"Narnia?" said Splinter. He was no stranger to the idea of travelling between worlds, even if it was accidental, as Leonardo's seemed to have been, but he had never heard of a land by that name. "And where is the doorway he went through?"
"That doorway no longer exists," said the lion. "Once, there were many doorways leading between your world and the world of Narnia. But they are almost all gone by now, and even as we speak the very few that are left are failing and fading, and will soon be no more."
Splinter felt a surge of despair grasp his heart. "Then is there no way of going after him?" he asked.
Once again, the lion paused before it answered, but now another undertone had entered its deep voice; an undertone of sadness. "I understand your grief, my friend," it said. "You miss your son, and I... I miss my daughter. She turned her back on me, and on my world, many years ago, and I have sometimes feared that she would never return to me. Nevertheless," he added, looking at Splinter, "she is one of the few in your world who can help you get to Narnia and find your son. She has the ability to create a final doorway, though she may not remember, or choose to remember, how. You must seek her out and convince her to help you."
"How can I find your daughter then?" said Splinter. He was beginning to realize that this lion was not merely a guiding spirit belonging to this realm, but... something more, something he couldn't quite place words around.
"When she was young," said the lion, "she lived in London, England. Now, however, she is old, and for the last twenty years she has lived in the very city that you and your sons dwell underneath. Her name is Susan Palmer, formerly Susan Pevensie. She should be listed in the phone book."
"Your daughter is human?" said Splinter, a little surprised.
For the first time during their entire conversation, the lion smiled. "Your sons are turtles. Yet they are no less your sons."
And Splinter understood. For the first time, perhaps because he had seen the lion smile, he felt that he understood a little more of it. "We will find your daughter, master Lion," he said, bowing. "My sons and I... we will do everything in our power to convince her into returning to you, as well as helping us find Leonardo."
"Good," the lion rumbled. "But she must do so of her own free will. You cannot force her. However, I will send with you something to help her remember." Once again, it bowed its head and nudged Klunk with its nose. The cat, who had been sitting peacefully by its feet during the entire conversation, now raised himself and trotted back to Splinter with his tail raised high. "Now go, both of you. We will see each other again soon."
And then, Splinter opened his eyes again, and he was back in his room in the underground lair, still sitting on the floor with Klunk in his lap.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he felt as refreshed as if he had slept an entire night.
"Susan Palmer, formerly Susan Pevensie," he muttered to himself. "Hopefully Donatello can locate her with his computer."
"I shouldn't worry," said Klunk, jumping down on the floor and stretching. "Didn't you see who that lion was? That was Aslan! If he says something can be done, then..." he trailed off as he noticed Splinter staring at him."What?" he said, confused. "Do I have grass in my fur or something?"
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To be continued....
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Author's Notes: Bwahahahahah! When Aslan started talking about his "daughter," I bet you thought it was going to be an OC, didn't you? "Aslan's daughter, the beautiful and powerful Mary Sue"? Naaah, I have a bit more respect for canon than that. If you know Susan's story from the books, you'll know why Aslan says she has "turned away from him." If you don't... well, all will be properly explained in due time.
Not much else to say about this prologue, except that I've always wanted to do a story with a talking Klunk, and finally, here's my chance!
In the next chapter -- chapter One, where the story really begins -- we'll see what Leonardo is up to in Narnia.
Now, keep in mind that this is based on the Narnia books, not the movie or the TV series, and there will be spoilers for just about the entire series -- particularly for "Prince Caspian" and "The Silver Chair" -- though I've tried to make the story accessible for people who haven't read those books... you should hopefully be able to get the story fine even if you don't know much about Narnia. (Still, if you haven't read the books, I'd definitely recommend that you do so, they're good!)
I've rated the fic PG, just in case, since there will be some violence and bloodshed in later chapters -- probably nothing you wouldn't find in the original Narnia books, though.
Well, that's enough banter for now... I'll leave you to the actual story after I've answered the question that I know a lot of you are probably asking yourselves right now: Why in Aslan's name a crossover between Narnia and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?!
The answer is: I just wanted to see if I could do it!
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THE LION, THE CAT AND THE TURTLES
Prologue
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Splinter looked sharply up as he heard the footsteps from outside, raising himself and hurrying over to the entrance.
They hadn't found him; he felt that they hadn't found him. But his feelings could be wrong; it could be that they were coming back bearing good news. For a lingering second, the old rat clutched to this tiny strand of hope, which broke the moment the panel door slid aside and three tired-looking mutant Turtles trudged inside.
"My sons..." said Splinter silently. There was no point in completing the question.
It was Donatello who spoke up first, leaning against his bo staff and looking about ready to collapse. "Sorry, Master Splinter. We looked everywhere we could think of. No sign of him."
"And we musta searched the entire sewer," Michelangelo walked over to the couch and sat heavily down; waking his cat, Klunk, who had been sleeping there for the better part of an hour.
"And April and Casey haven't seen him either," said Raphael, clutching the hilt of his sai tightly. "They said they'd keep an eye out for 'im, but..."
"Then it is as I feared," said Splinter heavily. "Leonardo is gone."
And so it seemed. The day before, Leonardo had gone out early on a solo patrol, having promised Donatello that he would check up on his sewer security system and taking note of any parts that might need some improvement or repair.
He hadn't come back.
Sometime during the afternoon, and still not particularly worried because Leonardo knew how to take care of himself, Splinter had been about to make himself a cup of tea when he had felt it. It had been a strong sensation that had almost made him lose the teacup; an unmistakable feeling that something was happening to Leonardo -- something strange and possibly dangerous. The sensation had been very brief, and had passed only after a few seconds, but it was enough for Splinter.
He had sent his other three sons out to look for Leonardo, while remaining behind in the lair himself in case his oldest son should make it back on his own and need help. But the night had passed, and so had most of the following day, and Leonardo hadn't shown up.
Repeated attempts at reaching him spiritually, through intense meditation, had proved unsuccessful. A couple of times, Splinter thought he could sense a glimpse of Leonardo, but both times it had vanished as soon as it had appeared, leaving behind only a curious sensation of... displaced time.
"What do you suppose happened to him, Master?" Michelangelo had lifted Klunk up and was now concentrating more on petting the cat than anything else -- it was, Splinter thought, probably more of an attempt at comforting himself than Klunk.
"I do not know, Michelangelo," said the old rat, and felt older and more tired than ever. "But you are all exhausted, my sons. Try to get a few hours' rest. Then, we will contact all our friends and allies, and ask for their assistance. In the meantime, I shall try reaching Leonardo through the astral plane again."
"I'm gonna help," said Raphael immediately.
"You should sleep, Raphael," said Splinter.
"I'm not gonna sleep when Leo might be in danger!" Raphael snapped.
"You will be of no use to him if you wear yourself out!" Splinter snapped back, but then regretted the harsh tone and continued, much more gently: "Please, Raphael. Rest assured; we will find Leonardo, but for now you must sleep!"
Raphael grumbled, but to everyone's great relief he didn't argue. He just turned around and walked off to his room, pausing only briefly to punch the wall beside his bedroom door before he vanished inside.
"He's just worried, you know," said Donatello, turning to Splinter. "We all are. It's not like Leo to just vanish like that without a single word."
"I know, Donatello," Splinter answered softly. "I just pray that he is all right."
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After his sons had gone to bed, Splinter retired to his own room and once again settled down to meditate. To his surprise, Klunk followed him in and insisted on lying in his lap -- it seemed like the cat didn't think he'd had enough attention and petting when Michelangelo had gone to sleep, so now he was demanding it from the only one still awake, namely Splinter.
Worried though he may be, the old rat couldn't help but smile. Michelangelo was definitely spoiling Klunk -- but then again, a sewer wasn't exactly the ideal place for a cat to live, and so his son apparently felt he should make it up to Klunk by being extra nice to him.
It wasn't the easiest thing to meditate with a cat in your lap, but somehow Splinter managed it anyway; a life with four sons having long since taught him how to meditate under less-than-ideal conditions. He managed to put his worry aside, to reach the necessary state of calm, to just... focus....
Let go of the concern. Clear your mind and let him find you...
And then, all of a sudden, Splinter felt an almost physical change in the room around him. He had a vague feeling that his surroundings widened and cleared, that everything around him grew brighter, and that the air he was breathing in gradually changed from that of the underground lair to the fresh, cool air of an open landscape.
Splinter forced himself to not fling his eyes open and stare. He hadn't often experienced this sort of thing during meditation, but it had happened once or twice, and he knew that if he went too fast with this, he would simply wake up and find himself back in his room. So he sat, breathing silently and rhythmically, letting the surroundings settle completely before he slowly opened his eyes.
He was sitting on a grass-covered hill under a clear, blue sky. As far as he could see, there was nothing but grass and sky, himself... and for some reason, Klunk, still lying in his lap with half-closed eyes. Splinter was a little surprised that he still saw the cat, when everything else in the physical world had faded away to give place to these serene grasslands, but perhaps it was merely the result of Klunk being in his lap at the time.
Was this an actual, physical place that his spirit was now visiting, or was it just a place he himself had created in his mind? He wasn't sure. It didn't quite feel like anywhere he'd been before, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it was familiar somehow.
"Mrrrow?" said Klunk from his lap, looking curiously up at him before rising himself, stretching and jumping down on the grass. Strangely enough, it seemed like the cat could see the landscape perfectly as well, at least he immediately started to bat at a blade of grass and twitching his tail as if ready to pounce on invisible or imagined insects.
"Curious," said Splinter to Klunk, discovering that his voice was clear and strong, even if he wasn't really speaking out loud at once. "It appears I have brought you with me as a passenger. Why would this be?"
Klunk didn't answer, but then Splinter hadn't expected him to. No matter how smart Michelangelo would brag that his cat was, Klunk was still just an ordinary cat and had neither the intelligence nor the capacity to speak. So instead of waiting for an answer that wouldn't come anyway, Splinter raised himself and looked around. It was a clear beautiful day with the hint of a breeze in the air around him, a breeze that to Klunk's obvious delight made the grass move in waves; perfect for pouncing upon.
Splinter turned around to get a better oversight over his entire surroundings, and stopped and froze.
There was a huge lion standing right behind him.
His first instinct was to grab Klunk and run, to break his trance and let them both return to their bodies in the underground lair, but somehow he couldn't quite get himself to do it.
"If you flee," said the lion calmly (and Splinter was surprised to find that he wasn't at all surprised that it could talk), "you will never find your son. Stay, and you may yet find the help you need."
Klunk had stopped pouncing the grass, and oddly enough walked straight up to the lion with his tail erect, looking up at it the way he used to do when greeting anyone he knew. The lion bowed its enormous head and touched the cat's forehead briefly and gently with its tongue before looking up at Splinter again.
"Do you know where my son is, master Lion?" said Splinter, deciding that whatever the lion might or might not do, it was obviously not going to attack. He knew that on a spirit-wandering like this you could sometimes be met by a guiding spirit that might take the shape of an animal -- but it could sometimes be hard to determine whether the spirit you met was a benevolent or a malevolent one. "The one named Leonardo?"
"I do," the lion answered. Its voice was soft and powerful at the same time, like a flowing river, but with an underlying rumble that could have been a growl, or a purr. "Your son has been taken away from his own time and his own world and now finds himself in one of my worlds, far away from yours."
"Then please," said Splinter, "how can I get to him?"
The lion looked at him without speaking for a brief moment, and then said, in a somewhat stronger voice: "Your son is in the land of Narnia. He involuntarily stepped through one of the doorways between your world and Narnia, and was unable to find his way back. He will have to stay there until someone comes for him."
"Narnia?" said Splinter. He was no stranger to the idea of travelling between worlds, even if it was accidental, as Leonardo's seemed to have been, but he had never heard of a land by that name. "And where is the doorway he went through?"
"That doorway no longer exists," said the lion. "Once, there were many doorways leading between your world and the world of Narnia. But they are almost all gone by now, and even as we speak the very few that are left are failing and fading, and will soon be no more."
Splinter felt a surge of despair grasp his heart. "Then is there no way of going after him?" he asked.
Once again, the lion paused before it answered, but now another undertone had entered its deep voice; an undertone of sadness. "I understand your grief, my friend," it said. "You miss your son, and I... I miss my daughter. She turned her back on me, and on my world, many years ago, and I have sometimes feared that she would never return to me. Nevertheless," he added, looking at Splinter, "she is one of the few in your world who can help you get to Narnia and find your son. She has the ability to create a final doorway, though she may not remember, or choose to remember, how. You must seek her out and convince her to help you."
"How can I find your daughter then?" said Splinter. He was beginning to realize that this lion was not merely a guiding spirit belonging to this realm, but... something more, something he couldn't quite place words around.
"When she was young," said the lion, "she lived in London, England. Now, however, she is old, and for the last twenty years she has lived in the very city that you and your sons dwell underneath. Her name is Susan Palmer, formerly Susan Pevensie. She should be listed in the phone book."
"Your daughter is human?" said Splinter, a little surprised.
For the first time during their entire conversation, the lion smiled. "Your sons are turtles. Yet they are no less your sons."
And Splinter understood. For the first time, perhaps because he had seen the lion smile, he felt that he understood a little more of it. "We will find your daughter, master Lion," he said, bowing. "My sons and I... we will do everything in our power to convince her into returning to you, as well as helping us find Leonardo."
"Good," the lion rumbled. "But she must do so of her own free will. You cannot force her. However, I will send with you something to help her remember." Once again, it bowed its head and nudged Klunk with its nose. The cat, who had been sitting peacefully by its feet during the entire conversation, now raised himself and trotted back to Splinter with his tail raised high. "Now go, both of you. We will see each other again soon."
And then, Splinter opened his eyes again, and he was back in his room in the underground lair, still sitting on the floor with Klunk in his lap.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he felt as refreshed as if he had slept an entire night.
"Susan Palmer, formerly Susan Pevensie," he muttered to himself. "Hopefully Donatello can locate her with his computer."
"I shouldn't worry," said Klunk, jumping down on the floor and stretching. "Didn't you see who that lion was? That was Aslan! If he says something can be done, then..." he trailed off as he noticed Splinter staring at him."What?" he said, confused. "Do I have grass in my fur or something?"
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To be continued....
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Author's Notes: Bwahahahahah! When Aslan started talking about his "daughter," I bet you thought it was going to be an OC, didn't you? "Aslan's daughter, the beautiful and powerful Mary Sue"? Naaah, I have a bit more respect for canon than that. If you know Susan's story from the books, you'll know why Aslan says she has "turned away from him." If you don't... well, all will be properly explained in due time.
Not much else to say about this prologue, except that I've always wanted to do a story with a talking Klunk, and finally, here's my chance!
In the next chapter -- chapter One, where the story really begins -- we'll see what Leonardo is up to in Narnia.
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