Dark night incarnate

I do not know who I am. I cannot remember my true name, nor my country or family. Shadows pass in front of my eyes, blinding, numbing the mind into eternal sleep. I am only aware of her presence, that fills me with dread and yet at the same time a strange, burning desire. She consumes my every thoughts…her perfect skin, and eyes that burn like green fire.

She comes to me when I am weak, vulnerable, tied with bonds to her twisted piece of sorcery. And like a cat toys with a mouse, plays with me; stroking my hair, my mouth, my face, and I am powerless to do anything except shiver at her touch. I have never known such hatred mixed with desire. It consumes me. I've screamed at her until I've lost my voice, I've pleaded until the tears track down my face, but she only kisses them away…laughing all the time…

Memories from another time, another place flash through my mind in my delirious state. Silver trumpet calls, clear streams, open sky and a name… a powerful name…

What was it?

Slender hands caress burning trails along my jaw, her fingers touch my shirt, laying my chest bare, tantalizing me with kisses…

"Aslan…" I breathe.

Her voice is sharp. "What name do you speak my prince?" her eyes narrow, her voice dangerously sweet, hands stopping their temporary exploration.

"Aslan…" It comes out almost as a sob, as an unexpected rush of nostalgia sweeps over me. A golden mane, burning bright in the fading sunlight, lion kisses pressed to my brow.

I am with you Rillian.

I turn my face from her in anger. She slaps me hard across the face, her nails cutting into my skin. "Do not ever…" she breathes, her eyes glowing dangerously, "ever… speak that name in my presence…" I stare at her coldly, reveling in this small triumph, but not for long. Her voice turns to a purr. "You are tortured by your sickness, my Prince. I understand. But you will speak my name and my name only…"

I can't bring myself to nod.

"Say it."

Her voice cuts through me like a knife.

"My Queen…"

"Say it!" her pitch raises, her voice slightly mad.

Focus on me, my child. I will not let you be tempted beyond what you can possibly bear…

Her assault on my body comes with renewed vigour, and I cry as I loose my grip.

I have to say it. I have to.

"Jadis, my queen," my voice is lifeless, dead.

And as the voice fades away, I realise I have made my choice.

I can barely breathe as she scours my body and soul, as with a knife. I struggle in my bonds, knowing already that it's useless.

Come back… come back… please…

But the voice is gone, along with the beautiful presence. My mind instead turns to escapism, to relieve the pain… I remember a castle, held high above a bright blue sea, a lovely face shining like a star singing me a lullaby. Strong hands hold me up, help me to stand. And then my mind turns to the first time I saw her; the loveliest maiden I had ever seen in my life dressed in a green kirtle. I remember her being shy, sweet, vulnerable…

All lies,

trickery, deceit.

She is nothing but ruthlessness, my Dark queen.

Cruel hands dig into me and I am aware of a burning fire inside me, stoked by her insinuating touches, each one bringing me closer to the level of insanity. She claims my mouth, fingers dragging through my hair, as if drawing out my very soul.

Tears form and stream down my face as I realise I can't win… I feel tainted, and worst of all self-hatred and revulsion… I hate myself.

"Forgive me Aslan…"

And the clear crystal trumpet call of Narnia, the mighty roar of Aslan are blocked by her warm breath, her ice and fire touch, as her name spills like burning oil from my lips: Jadis, Jadis… my Queen, Jadis…