Chapter 4:

Arrow.

Feather.

Bowstring.

Set.

Breathe in.

Pull.

Aim.

Release.

Breathe out.

The morning was filled with sharp, flying arrows. The field at the western part of the palace was transformed into a shooting range, with targets such as pine cones, two-inch wooden planks, a haystack, a scarecrow, a falling feather…anything that moved and wasn't a living creature was pierced with arrows.

I stretched my right arm, my hand expertly feeling for another arrow in the quiver, knowing those arrows were infinite. I was just setting the nth arrow on the bowstring when I heard galloping from the left. I turned, catching sight of a herd of centaurs.

My breath caught in my throat, a dry sob escaping as I lowered my bow. I squinted against the morning glare as the herd made their way across the green in a casual yet disciplined manner. Though they were centaurs, there were stark differences between them and the centaurs of the Golden Age.

These looked wilder, their hair, manes, and tails long, untamed, and thicker. The males had facial hair and held their head-hair held back in a single irregular tie or either let loose. The females had long wave-curls that ran the length of their manes. Even their equine legs had a notable amount of coating on them, unlike the smooth, glazed ones of –

"Stop it, Susan," I pried my eyes away from them, biting my lip till it hurt, distracting myself. "He's not here; he's not returning…because I left him." My arms felt like lead weights as those words escaped. My hand clenched the wooden bow, my knuckles pale white from the pressure.

What if I never left Narnia? What if Lucy never found the wardrobe in Lantern Waste? If, if, if!

From the palace I could see Lucy and Edmund make their way toward me, skipping-running like children. I understood: that's how I had felt yesterday. This was their home. I saw Peter conversing with Glenstorm across the field. The image pained me; how very much like the way Peter had conversed with Orieus.

I closed my eyes and let out a cry. No! Narnia isn't home. It never will be, not without him by my side.

I quickly opened my eyes, realizing that my cry must have alarmed Lucy and Edmund, for they were now running full out in my direction. I can't face them yet, I have to think! I dropped my bow, picked up the skirts of the hunting dress and ran for the tree line. Lucy would never catch up, her body still that of a child and not honed into the tomboyish Narnian Queen who loved the outdoors as she had been before. Edmund probably could catch up, but I had a long head start.

The woods near the palace weren't dense, but it was wooded enough to provide privacy and solitude. I had always come here whenever men came to the palace to ask for my hand in marriage, back in the Golden Age when I was Queen Susan the Gentle. It was a place where those nobles, princes, or whatever sorry excuse for an "eligible husband" would never think to look. I, Queen Susan, prim and proper, Mistress of Court Decorum and Manners, hiding out in the forest; no, they expected me to hide behind bookshelves, tea sets, and sitting rooms like a lady. I may be a queen, but I am also a huntress, a warrior.

I slowed my run into a fast walk, and then slow steps. The land was so changed. The favorite clearing where I came to was so wild and overgrown it was unrecognizable. Nonetheless, the pull of familiarity made me step onto the long grass, the sun slanting in slivers of white and yellow through the canopy. The forest floor was bouncy with fallen leaves, pine cones, and long blades of untamed growth.

Once upon a time, this clearing had been an orderly training ground for me. The female centaurs of the herd were expert bows-women just as the male centaurs were skilled swordsmen. It was here where I honed my dexterity and proficiency, learning how to shoot with whatever situation and circumstance was presented. The female centaurs were brutal in training, but outside the ring, they were the best companions any queen could ask for. And at the end of every session, he was there, always waiting, giving honest feedback on how he perceived my training, where to improve and what to downplay. The best part was him allowing me to ride on his back as we took the long way route to the palace. It was taboo for anyone to ride on a centaur's back. It was like someone sitting on a human's shoulder as a way of transportation. But Orieus didn't think that when I sat on his back. Those night rides was when I discovered I loved him. It took months until he also admitted the same feelings for me.

"No king, diamonds, gold, or crowns can ever amount to the love I have for you, Orieus," I told him one night as we looked out into the great Eastern Sea.

"I am of no royal blood, no kingdom to offer…I am a warrior. I serve the king before anyone else," he insisted, trying to turn me away. But I was adamant.

"That's where we are the same: I serve the crown, king, and country. I too am a warrior. Don't you see?" I stood in his path, forcing him to look at me. "I will never be happy just sitting on a throne with jewels in my hair, silk dresses on my back, or attend to a husband who cares more for politics and economics than the actual battle in the field. Orieus, I choose you."

"High King Peter will never approve," he shook his head. I held onto his arm.

"He may be king, but he isn't the one to choose who I will wed. You are his best friend as Edmund is also. How could he not approve of you?" he pried my hands off his arm as he turned and walked away. "Orieus!" I ran after him, knowing that if he took on a full run I'd never be able to catch up. I grabbed my skirts and pumped my legs forward to stand in his path, not caring if he would trample over me. "Listen to me!"

"NO! You listen, my queen," he roared, his eyes firing in the full moon's glare. I shook, his frustrated growl running through me. "I am a centaur, a centaur! Look at me, I am not human, I can never love you like a human male would, never be what a human male husband would be to you." He placed both hands on my arms, squeezing me. "Can't you see that?" his voice sounded angry, almost desperate. An uncontrolled moan escaped my throat, the stinging prick of tears forming at the corners of my eyes. I clenched my teeth, my fury matching his frustration.

"YES, Orieus! I DO see you. I SEE YOU!" I screamed with irritation. As the tears started to fall, my vision clouded but I never tore my gaze from him. "I see you, ONLY you," I fought through tears. "I CHOOSE you to love."

He released me and I sank to the ground, feeling as if something was sucked out of my chest. Then I heard his hooves growing distant. I turned and saw his receding form. My mouth went dry, my body felt numb. Even the angry crashes of the waves were muted. Only the moon's harsh brilliance existed; all else was black.

He left me.

Even after my declaration…he just left.

I closed my eyes, lying down and facing the stars. The pain was anesthetizing. My common sense told me that the night would grow steeply colder, but I felt nothing. Even breathing seemed like a chore. What if I stopped breathing all together? Wouldn't that be a luxury…?

I heard nothing, but one tiny drum at the back of my mind, quiet enough for me to ignore. But then it decided to grow stronger, louder…faster.

Boom…boom…boom...!

Then I felt the ground shaking. Common sense was telling me to get up. Another voice was contradicting common sense, asking what would the use be?

All at once, the drum and shaking ceased. Common sense was shrieking in my mind to get up and investigate. The voice told me to lie down and remain, to languish in the numbing bliss of oblivion. Who to listen to?

Orieus, common sense whispered.

Orieus? The voice snorted. He was gone. He rejected my proposal. The voice was guffawing, I could hear the tears in the laughter. The laughter was piercing and cruel…and cold. It sounded familiar…

"Of course I'm familiar," the voice taunted. "You've seen me in my glory, until that wretched Lion came," it hissed.

"Jadis," I assumed. The laughter cackled.

"Well done, my queen," she sneered. Then she let out a thoughtful sigh. "Love never goes the way you want it. I was once in your position. Do you know what I did?" her voice lilted in a sing-song way.

"What?"

"I killed him. You can, too, and put an end to this petty hurt," she sounded bored. "You're a queen, power; and you'll waste that title away for a mere…love-thing? Hah!" she spat.

"I can't kill him," I said. My thoughts were slowing down, as if someone was running life through slow-motion. "Even if I had wanted to, I can't; he's a better fighter than I am…"

"Tsk-tsk… such little faith in your abilities," she tutted, the fakeness apparent in her concern.

Then I felt something warm and hot spread across my chest, the pain searing and intense. I screamed in agony, the torture unbearable.

"What's happening?" I demanded as the heat continued to eat at my skin, making its way toward my heart. "AAAARRRGGGHH!"

I couldn't hear Jadis' voice anymore, not even the deriding laughter echoed. Suddenly I felt my hands and legs, the ground pushing against my back, the grass grasped between my hands, the angry whip of the sea's winds across my face.

"SUSAN!"

I opened my eyes, sight greeted by flames, bright and dazzling. It emitted from something in front of me, on my chest. I let out one blood-curdling scream of torment until finally the small sun and the fever-like experience was gone.

I sat up, feeling the sweat drizzle down my forehead and neck.

"You're awake!" came a voice. I turned and then backed away.

"What just happened?" I demanded, getting up on my feet as I regarded him, evidence of the burning sensation in his hands. "What's that?" I nodded at his hands.

"Just as I left, I felt the presence of another. It was an evil dryad. It was racing toward the direction I had left, and I realized it was heading for you, so I raced back. When I arrived, the evil dryad had already struck a glowing icicle into your chest," Orieus explained, his form bent down on the ground, his forelegs and hindquarters folded under him so his torso and head were level with my sitting form. Then my eyes snapped back at him, confusion and worry etched across my face.

"But…according to the books, evil dryads, messengers of Jadis, come to those to whom she sends them to. But she's gone!" I rested my head in my hands, thinking. "How could she still exist?"

"Also according to the books, she's summoned by individuals to whom she has an emotional connection to, a shared experience," he continued, referring to the same book I mentioned. "I don't know how she exists; only Aslan knows that answer."

I retreated into my thoughts. Jadis once loved? Jadis killed the one who rejected her love. She was taunting me to do the same…oh my goodness… she wanted me to take the road she took…to become like her! I snapped out of my thoughts and focused my eyes on him.

"Why did you come back? Why did you save me?" my hands tingled from my tight hold. I released my hold.

"What sort of question is that?" he sounded offended. "You are queen of Narnia. Of course I would protect you. That's why I summoned a star from the heavens to try and melt the lodged icicle in your chest," he referred to the burning ball in his hand. He then opened his hand and the little object lifted and wafted upwards on an invisible breeze.

"But what if I was not queen, would you have still saved me?" I looked away.

"I protect Narnia. You are Narnia."

I wasn't going to hear anymore. I got up and strode for the palace. So he saved me out of duty. Were all his other acts out of duty as well? None genuine acts of love and friendship? All… a beautiful mirage.

"Susan!" he got up and galloped up to me. I turned and faced him.

"Have you forgotten your protocol? Addressing me so informally, General?" I lifted my chin. If it was a queen he saw me as, if it was just because of that title that made him reject me, then I'll give him what he wants: a queen.

"Forgive me, I was wrong," he bowed his head. It pained me to see him act so formal toward me.

"Apparently," I insisted, my clipped tone surprising even me. Palace training was so ingrained into my consciousness; I almost forgot what it was like to act without protocol, decorum, or palace etiquette. "About what? The evil dryad? You managed to heal me from the icicle pierce."

"No," he shook his head. He lifted his gaze to my face and held me with his eyes. "I was wrong for leaving you. When I saw you lying there, unconscious, nearly within the grasp of the White Witch because of that evil dryad of twisted, rotted tree branches with the stench of death and ice about it…" he shuddered at the memory, his brows knitted and teeth clenched in anger and agony. "I tore at my hair and realized what a villain I was to reject the love of a woman I revered more than the life I lived."

"So, it took a near-successful assassination for you to realize –"

"You mean more to me than Narnia ever will," he cut me off. It was my turn to avert my eyes. Once again, I felt his gentle hands on either side of my arms. "Forgive this stubborn horse; I should have told you in the first place: I choose you, too."

It was at those words that I lifted my gaze up to him, relief and surprise washing through me. I let out a happy gasp as I smiled.

"You're quite correct on the stubborn part," I laughed. He too laughed and lifted me into his arms, his strong muscled arms a comfort and sanctuary. Then he placed me down on the ground again. He bent his forelegs so his upper torso and head were level with mine.

"Susan…" he whispered, gently brushing my dark locks away from my face, his fingers caressing and soft. He pressed his forehead against mine. I let out a contented sigh, knowing his gesture translated into human terms meant a gentle first kiss. I knew he wouldn't kiss me on the lips until we were formally married. Foreheads were fine by me at this point in time.

"I won't let you," he promised.

"Let me what?" my brows knitted in confusion. I pulled away and looked at him. His face was set and determined.

"I heard the conversation between you and the evil dryad. I won't let you become what Jadis wants you to be: like her. We have something she doesn't."

"What's that?" I leaned into him, his arms encircling my waist as he pulled me to him.

"Love."