The law of sacrifice is uniform throughout the world. To be effective it demands the sacrifice of the bravest and the most spotless. ~ Mahatma Gandhi
Disclaimer: I do not own The Chronicles of Narnia, be it book or movie. I only own Arielle and any deviation from the established plot.
When Winter holds its breath
and Spring begins anew
a Sacrificial death
upon the Table entombed.
"Milady." Hazel eyes snapped open at the low voice coming from behind her. The wind played across the girl's light brown hair as she stared at the castle on the horizon - Cair Paravel, her former home. "The dryads have sighted the beavers and three humans." As usual, Oreius was succinct.
The girl turned to the centaur and General of Aslan's army. "Only three?" her voice, a light alto, carried a calm yet defined air to it. Oreius nodded, and the girl frowned. "Is there any news of Aslan?"
"No Milady." He replied shortly.
The girl sighed, casting one last look at the castle before scooping up a bladed staff from where it rested in the grass. "That isn't surprising. Come, let us welcome our guests." Then, as easily as any faun, she bounded down the steep face of the hill over looking the camp. Oreius followed, coming down the other side and cantering around to the front.
It was not difficult to locate the beavers and their charges. Like a breeze parting the tall grass of a plain, the soldiers parted before the humans, bowing as they paused in whatever task they had. The girl felt a small smile grace her lips at the sight of the kind Mrs. Beaver nervously patting at her fur, only to be gently reassured by Mr. Beaver.
Her gaze then traveled to the three humans. The youngest, with auburn hair that only reached her chin and wearing a modest dress and shoes. Her eyes were bright, filled with wonder, and she smiled at the soldiers as she passed them. A dagger and cordial were belted to her small waist.
The eldest girl wore a white button down shirt that had no doubt once been tucked neatly into her red and green plaid skirt. Her eyes also held the wonder of a person who'd never before seen the glory of Narnia, but under the amazement, she could see a sense of caution. A bow and quiver of arrows peeked over the dark brunette's shoulder, and a horn could been seen slung over the other.
The last human was the blonde Son of Adam. He too, wore a button down shirt, as well as a pair of pants and suspenders. Out of the three, the girl noted that he was the most observant. While wonder did register in his blue eyes, caution and grim acceptance outweighed the emotion as he saw the piles of weapons and armor. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, a habit he had most likely just recently acquired.
The girl also took note of the way the boy studied her when she took position at the front of the camp - the position of a leader. When his sisters stepped forward and knelt by the beavers, he followed a second after.
He has good awareness of his surroundings, and a grasp of the severity of the situation already, the girl thought. He is protective of his family.
"Rise, please." The girl requested, holding her hand out in a placating manner. "I am Arielle, leader of this camp in Aslan's stead. This is General Oreius." Arielle introduced, indicating the centaur beside her. Oreius bowed his head to the three humans.
The boy stepped forward. "I am Peter Pevensie, and these are my sisters, Susan and Lucy." He replied, nodding first to the eldest, and then to the youngest with the dagger.
Arielle gave them each a respectful nod, before turning and smiling to the Beavers. "I thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, for guiding them all this way. It is not a short distance from here to the Lantern Waste." Mrs. Beaver ducked her head, and if it were not for the fur, Arielle would have sworn she was blushing.
"Ma'am," Mr. Beaver spoke, an anxious undercurrent to his tone. "We were told that we would meet Aslan here." At the reminder, the Pevensie's tensed.
Arielle's smile became regretful. "Aslan has not been seen for over a week." She held up a hand to quiet their gasps. "It is not uncommon, and there is no need for alarm. After all, my old friend is not a tame lion."
However, the Pevensie's worry did not dissipate. "Do you know when he'll come back?" Peter asked.
Arielle shook her head. "I presume your worry has its roots in your brother?"
Susan nodded. "Edmund went to the White Witch."
This was not the right thing to say.
Instantly, the soldiers growled and hissed, while Oreius snapped, "Then he is a traitor!" Peter bristled at the accusation, his protectiveness showing true.
"Peace, everyone." Arielle ordered. Soldiers stilled, and tempers were calmed. She shot a subtle glance at Oreius that did not go unnoticed by its intended recipient. "Let us not jump to conclusions. Many have been tricked by Jadis. All will reveal itself in due course."
"Now," Arielle's face lost the imposing edge of a leader, and she suddenly looked like a young woman again. "Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, if you would be willing to show Peter, Susan, and Lucy to their tents, and help them find some clean clothes. Afterwards," Her gaze caught Peter's. "I'd like to speak to Peter."
Peter exited his tent, freshly outfitted in a tunic, jerkin, pants and comfortable boots. His sword was belted to his waist, that after a moment's debate, had decided not to leave with his shield in his tent. He felt more comfortable with it by his side.
He looked around, but there was no sign of the brunette in the camp. Oreius was a short distance from his tent, gazing at a set of maps. Feeling Peter's gaze, the centaur looked up. Peter clenched his jaw, remembering how he had labeled his younger brother.
With difficulty, Peter broke his gaze with the General and looked at the rest of the camp. Many of the soldiers were stockpiling weapons - most notably throwing daggers, arrows, and other missiles. That observation drove home the fact that the danger was very real. He and his family had landed in the middle of another war.
Susan and Lucy were not in the camp either, Peter noted. He stamped down the rising worry. Susan wouldn't let Lucy wander off by herself, and Susan knew not to wander far from the camp. They were fine.
He took a breath to settle himself and walked over to Oreius. "Excuse me." The centaur looked up from the maps. "Do you know where I can find Arielle?" Peter asked coolly.
Oreius gestured towards a steep hill overlooking the camp. Squinting against the afternoon sun, he could barely make out a small silhouette. Peter gave a nod of thanks before clambering up the side of the hill.
And there was Arielle, sitting on the rocky outcrop, her staff next to her. She gazed off into the distance, lost in thought. He studied her for a moment, trying to get a sense of her. From earlier, Peter knew she respected him. Her smiles and words indicated kindness, but the way she held herself and commanded calm after the mention of Edmund showed respected authority. And if the way she held the staff as if it were an extension of herself were any clue, then she was a skilled warrior as well.
Peter cleared his throat. "You wanted to speak to me?"
Peter's question jolted Arielle out of her thoughts. Mentally scolding herself for not being more aware, she nodded, and patted the rock beside her. "Sit with me for a moment." She heard him hesitate before taking the spot she had offered. Her gaze returned to the view of Cair Paravel. Silence descended upon the pair.
About to inquire as to why Arielle wanted to speak to him, Peter was unprepared for Arielle's statement. "Cair Paravel." He blinked, then followed her gaze to the horizon where a castle could be seen. "It has stood for over 600 years, since the Age of Enlightenment when Aslan first prophesied the coming of you and your siblings. In the castle there are four untouched thrones." Arielle turned to look at him, her piercing eyes again locking onto his. "One of these, Peter, belongs to you."
He sighed and looked away. Arielle tilted her head. "You doubt yourself." It was not a question.
Peter ran a hand through his hair. Of course he doubted himself! How could he be the King of a country he'd never been to before? "I'm just not sure I'm who everyone thinks I am." He countered exasperatedly. "I'm no King! I'm just - "
"Peter Pevensie, of Finchley." Arielle finished. Peter jerked, startled. Arielle smiled. "Mr. Beaver told me. He also said that you planned on making him into a hat." Peter's lips twitched into a smile at the memory. "As for you not being a King? I recall saying something similar when Aslan told me I was to be Queen, 600 years ago."
"I beg your pardon?" Yelped Peter.
Arielle chuckled. "Yes, Peter. Arielle the Faithful, Lady of the Lantern Wastes, Queen of Narnia. But to my family, I'll always be Arielle Carter from Boston."
"You're from Earth as well?"
"Yep. Born 1927, second eldest of five." Arielle chirped. "This is my second time to Narnia. The first time I fell out of the loft in the horse stables on my grandfather's farm. I was eleven. Not a pleasant landing when I got back. Josephine, my older sister, and my younger brother Ronald, who was five, got a kick out of embarrassing me when they realized I was alright."
Peter nodded knowingly. "They never let you forget it either, do they?" Arielle shook her head. "Lucy actually led us here, through an old wardrobe. We didn't believe her at first..." His eyes hardened. "I promised I would keep them safe, only now I've led them from one war to another."
Arielle raised an eyebrow. "Peter, this camp is the safest place for them in Narnia right now, war or not. And let us not forget that you led them here, all the way from the Lantern Wastes."
He shook his head. "Not all of them."
Arielle gazed out in the direction of the forests. "I promise you Peter, I will do all I can to help your brother. On that you have my word, both as a Queen and as an elder sister."
In the distance, a horn sounded, and time seemed to stop.
"Susan!" Peter cried.
Yeah, Yeah, I know. I shouldn't be starting another story when I already have so many I need to work on. But my imagination wouldn't let this one rest, so hopefully I'll be able to work on the other stories when I'm not working on this one.
So sue me.
Other than that, your reviews are always welcome, even if it is as an anonymous viewer. I hate to ask, but reviews tell me that people are reading the story, and if they like it or not. It's a major motivation for me.
But I'm not going to force you to write reviews.
So, if you have any questions, I'll try to answer them either by PM or in the next Author's Note.
Tata for now!
~Lassie