I appreaciate constructive criticism a lot. I give it as much as I can whenever I read someone else's work, and would love for you to give me some as well.
Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Narnia or anything created by Lewis.
PROLOGUE
It all started with an almost unnoticeable tickling on the fingers of her toes, a wave of warmth caressing the skin that hid behind a suit of cold, stony armour. It was a calming sensation that only managed to spread through her trapped legs before it quickly faded as if it had never been there. But it had, and even though the young woman didn't stir and her mind kept on wandering in a world of white abysms, the hard surface of stone that covered her from head to toe cracked ever so slightly.
-#-
The White Witch regarded the scenery before her sharp eyes with pride and slight contentment. Her gaze touched every inch of land –her land–; from the icy esplanade that separated her castle from the hills to the snowy trees that stood behind them. Everything seemed to be in order, just how she wanted it to be. She really did hate it when those insignificant followers of Aslan attempted to go against her and treated her like a vulgar Narnian. She wasn't any of that; she was the Queen, and they should know not to step on her way and show her some respect. Fortunately, after capturing one of those insufferable rats –a skunk, none the less– some days ago, none had tried anything else. That seemed to have made them realize any effort was pointless, and she had been taking walks without being disturbed –and stunk out– ever since.
A part of her, however, loved to see those rebellious Narnians trying to annoy her with their little tactics. She loved to see the looks of utter terror in their eyes whenever she reached for her wand and hear their pathetic shouts as they attempted to alert others of her presence. But, what Jadis the White Witch enjoyed most was walking down the corridors of her castle and be greeted by so many victims she had turned to stone over the years.
A raspy sound echoed behind her, bringing her attention to the huge Minotaur, who stood by the open door.
"I apologize for disturbing you, your Majesty," it said with a short bow of respect.
The witch narrowed her eyes at it, obviously not pleased with its presence.
"What is it?" She demanded to know as her cold eyes stared hard at the Minotaur.
Nevertheless, her expression drastically changed when it revealed the news to her.
"The stone cracked."
Many things happened on the face of Jadis within the following seconds; first, surprise spread across her pale features, as she had not been expecting such words, and then a look of determination shone in her calculating eyes. Without sparing the Minotaur a glance or motioning for him to return to its work, the White Witch stormed towards the dungeons. Head high, she didn't acknowledge any of the creatures she crossed paths with, yet her gaze flickered to their forms whenever they bowed out of respect if only to satisfy her narcissism. The long, white dress she wore swept away the non-existent dust on the stairs as she descended towards the darkest, coldest part of the castle. Not that she noticed it anyway, as she was the one whose ice magic roamed every inch of the kingdom.
The sentinel who guarded the closed chamber, an ugly creature with sharp-pointed teeth and rotten skin, bowed respectfully when the witch approached. Sharing a quick glance with it, she placed a bony hand over the glassy surface and, soon enough, the ice that separated the chamber from the rest of the dungeons melted away. The chamber was dark, only illuminated by the faint light provided by the tiny torch that hung from one of the walls.
Her hand clutched her wand as the witch walked in, her face blank and not giving away her emotions; which, some thought, she did not have. With sharp eyes, she scanned the small place before approaching the darkest corner, where a statue stood. Something akin to hatred shone in her cold eyes as she laid them on the woman before her, and her lips pursed into a snarl. The mere sight of her caused the stomach of the witch to turn twist, and every fibre of her bones ached for attacking her. A century ago, she could have killed her, as she had done with the rest of her family. However, she had thought against it and decided to turn her into the statue that stared with defiant eyes into her soul.
"She can be useful when the time comes," she had thought.
And, as Jadis noticed the cracks on the surface, she knew the time had finally come.
"Not yet," she murmured as her gaze fell upon the stony feet of the woman. The scratches were too tiny, almost unnoticeable, which only meant one thing: Jadis still had time to act before she awoke. And the thought managed to erase the look of hatred from her face, instead bringing an expression of triumph.
Giving the statue one last glance, the White Witch rounded on her heels and abandoned the dungeons. Her heels echoed through the corridors as she made her way towards the outside.
"Ginarrbrik! Get the sled ready!" She shouted, her voice authoritative and leaving no room for questioning, as she crossed the huge hall, heading the unbelievably high doors.
"Should we scan the area in search of rebels as well, my Queen?" The leader of the Secret Police, Maugrim, asked with a small bow. It had been long since the wolves had been hunting, and expectation shone in the flaming eyes of the huge, grey beast.
The corner of her lips tugged upwards ever so slightly, forming a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, which sparked with the malice she was known of.
"No," she spoke resolutely. "We don't want to scare our guests."
As the dwarf, Ginarrbrik, led her to her sled, the White Witch drifted her gaze to the wolf.
"Keep an eye on the statue," she ordered, to which Maugrim nodded firmly.
"What do we do if she wakes up, my Queen?" It seemed rumours spread throughout the palace within seconds, for every creature living there already knew about the events concerning the woman they kept under the ice.
"She won't," Jadis asserted, before adding, "however, in the remote case that she does, I want no creature nearby. She may be a valuable gem in this war if she joins our army. Thus, no one is to approach her. Have I made myself clear?"
Maugrim, prey to the harsh stare the witch was throwing him from her spot sitting on the white sled, could only bow.
-#-
Meanwhile, far from the castle in which interior death was assured, a peculiar couple walked down a small hill. Snow would have covered both of them had not the faun carried an umbrella with him. They moved at a fast pace, and the little girl stumbled over more than once due to the amount of snow under her feet. Fortunately, her companion was always there to catch her before she could crash into the cold, unwelcoming ground. A shy 'thank you' was heard every time that happened, which always caused the faun to chuckle in amusement. He had never met a person who apologized so much –not that he had that many human acquaintances; in fact, that short Daughter of Eve was the first he had been blessed to meet.
The short girl shivered every once and then when powerful gusts of cold wind struck, ruffling her brown hair with no compassion and sneaking under her clothes. However, the weather seemed to be the last of her concerns. She clutched the bare arm of the faun with shaking hands, and allowed him to be the guide of their excursion. Her eyes were wide; shining with what was undoubtedly, fear.
The faun, on the other hand, had a troubled expression plastered on his features; as if he were debating with his own mind about something. The whole time, his eyes remained alert and glancing at their surrounds with nervousness.
To anyone who saw them, it'd be obvious that they were running from something. However, much to their delight, no one crossed their path as they headed their destination.
"This is it," the faun, Tumnus, whispered as they stopped by a lamp post. He seemed to be relieved, but his eyes kept sneaking cautious glances around. "I trust you know your way back from here?"
Lucy Pevensie nodded slowly, and a hopeful spark crossed her gaze when she asked, "Will I see you again?"
The faun's features softened considerably at her words; she was such a sweet soul.
"I do hope so, my friend." That seemed to be what Lucy was hoping to hear, for a wide smile spread across her lips.
"Oh, I will bring my siblings next time! You do not mind, do you? They can be quite difficult sometimes, especially Edmund, but they are definitely going to love this place," she babbled, which made Tumnus chuckle again before he froze.
"Pray tell me, how many siblings do you have?" Something had suddenly come to his mind, and his expression changed into one of anticipation.
"I am the youngest of the four," she revealed, a note of dejection in her voice.
Tumnus regarded her with wide eyes, blinking ever so frequently, before he asked one more question, his voice a bit louder than last time, "And is any of your siblings of age? Although, now that I mention it, I believe your way of aging might be somewhat different from mine…"
Her features scrunched into an expression of suspicion, as the girl did not quite understand where those questions came from nor did she comprehend the reason behind them.
"Well, none of us is an adult yet. But Peter would be the closest, seeing as he turns eighteen next month… Why do you seem so curious about it?" She couldn't help but wonder out loud, still wary about the peculiar questions.
But, much to her dismay, the faun waved a hand in the air.
"You shall not worry about my curiosity, Lucy Pevensie," he assured, smiling slightly at his new friend. "Nevertheless, I'm afraid we shall catch a cold if we stand here talking, and I'd rather not lie in bed for the following days. It'd be best for both if you went back to Spare 'Oom, may we not keep your siblings worrying about you much more."
Lucy didn't seem convinced, but decided to let it go for the moment being; she, indeed, didn't want her siblings to worry about her if she could avoid it. Besides, even though she was doing her best not to shiver, she was freezing from head to toe. Thus, she bid goodbye to Mr. Tumnus and quickly rushed to the Wardrobe.
What Tumnus did not know was that Lucy was very observant, and she had noticed the emotions that had filled his eyes when their last conversation had taken place. And she wasn't about to leave the issue behind; she would come back, have another pleasant evening with the faun, perhaps with the company of some cookies, and ask him about the real reason behind his curiosity. Because, to be honest, Lucy could not quite comprehend why Mr. Tumnus had appeared to be so troubled when she had spoken about Peter.
I've decided to change the real ages of the Pevensie so the plot I've created with my character fits better.
