The Lost Queen

by the Lady of the Mists

Chapter Nine: A Deadly Promise

The Witch seemed to grow delighted as she heard the crowd whisper to one another and watched Edmund shrink back away from her. Anna gripped his shoulders tightly, casting a quick glance at Peter before looking desperately at Aslan. If it was a choice between her and Edmund, then the Witch could have her.

"His offence was not against you," Aslan said, though his eyes trained on Anna for a moment. And she could almost hear his voice telling her to do nothing, that everything would be all right. But she couldn't force herself to calm down, not with Edmund trembling with fear between her and Peter and the Witch so close to capturing her hostage again.

"Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built?" the Witch taunted and he growled at her.

"Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch!" he snarled at her. "I was there when it was written."

"Then you remember well that ever traitor belongs to me." The Witch was grinning in triumph, as though she thought that Aslan was surrendering Edmund to her. "His blood is my property."

Instantly, Anna pushed Edmund behind her, into Susan's arms, before pulling out her sword, holding it protectively in front of her. Peter had done the same, in the same moment.

"Try and take him, then!" he snapped, moving forward, his sword held out. Aslan looked at him sadly and the Witch turned to look at Peter fully for the first time, her cold, wintry eyes not at all concerned with facing more than a dozen swords—for Anna and Peter were not the only ones who had drawn their weapons to protect Edmund.

"Do you really think that mere force will deny me my right . . . little King?" she queried before returning her attention to the lion. "Aslan knows that unless I have blood, as the law demands, then all of Narnia will be overturned in fire and water!" She had turned to the crowd by this time, all of whom were gasping in horror and terror. Pointing at Edmund, she proclaimed, "That boy will die on the Stone Table . . . as is tradition."

"No!" Peter growled.

"Enough!" Aslan growled at her. His voice was barely above a low rumbling in his throat. He looked at the Witch, his eyes narrowed. "I shall talk with you alone."

Anna only lowered her sword when the Witch had disappeared into the tent with Aslan and even then, she kept her sword on her hilt as she sheathed it, not daring to remove her hand as she sat down on the ground with the siblings. None of them spoke, unable to think of anything to say to comfort Edmund, who was sitting on the ground, tugging grass out of it.

Peter looked at Anna, the silent question in his eyes. What do you think is going to happen?

Reaching for his hand, Anna squeezed it, offering her reassurance and giving him a small, comforting smile. Don't worry; I'm sure everything is going to be just fine.

Her best friend didn't look reassured, but he looked less tense than he had a moment ago as he squeezed her hand back, not letting go of it. They sat in the grass with his siblings, holding each other's hand, waiting for the judgement to fall.

They were in the tent a long time. So long, in fact, that Anna began to doubt her words to Peter. When they finally emerged, they scrambled to their feet, eyeing the Witch carefully as she made her way across the field and returned to her chair that the Minotaurs had carried her in with.

Everyone in vicinity looked towards Aslan, who had followed the Witch out with a heaviness weighing down upon him. There was a long, tense moment before he spoke.

"She has renounced her claim on the son of Adam's blood."

Cheers rang out across the camp and Anna let out a shriek of delight, hugging Peter tightly before releasing him, her face slightly red. All of this happened before the Witch said sharply to Aslan, "How do I know that your promise will be kept?"

Anna looked towards the Witch sharply before glancing at Aslan; promise? What promise?

Aslan growled at the Witch's accusation, causing her to sit down in her chair sharply. Laughter broke out across the camp as she was carried away from it, sitting straighter in her chair, no doubt preparing for the battle that was to come.

Edmund hugged Anna, startling her out of her thoughts as she hugged him back, relieved that he was safe and that the Witch wasn't going to kill him, but a deep worry had set in; what promise had Aslan given to the Witch?

Unfortunately, her concern set in all during the continued training that took place after a cheerful lunch. She had tried to act calm, but Peter, ever insightful, noticed that something was bothering her, but was tactful enough to wait until after dinner to talk to her about. She was heading back to her tent when he caught up with her.

"Anna, what's wrong?" he asked her, leading her away from the tent as Susan and Lucy headed inside. Edmund was heading into the tent he was sharing with Peter.

She looked down at the ground. "Nothing; what makes you think that something's wrong?"

"Because I know you."

Slowly, Anna looked up into his blue eyes, slightly comforted by the feel of his hand in hers. "I'm worried," she confessed, slowly sitting down next to one of the dying fires. Peter sat down with her, looking at her carefully. "I just . . . wish that we knew what promise Aslan made to the Witch. Something about it . . . it doesn't feel right, Peter. I've got this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, like something is going to happen. Like we're going to be going at this alone."

"You'll never be alone," Peter assured her, taking his hand in hers. "I'll always be right here with you." She smiled at him, but the worry was still hanging over us. "But you're right; there was something else going on than what was said. I don't like it either, but we have to trust that he's doing the right thing for all of us. And whatever it was, it did save Ed."

"And I'm grateful for that. But . . . I'm just worried." She smiled as she slowly stood up, heading towards the girls' tent. "Good night, Peter."

"Good night," he called after her. Anna could feel his gaze on her as he watched her go and she resisted the urge to shiver as she headed into the tent that she shared with Susan and Lucy. Susan was tucking Lucy into bed as she entered, the youngest sibling already asleep.

"Out like a light," Anna said, careful not to raise her voice to wake Lucy. "Least one of us is going to get some sleep around here." Susan smiled faintly as she stood up, sitting down on her own bed, but she didn't lie down. She looked about as wide-awake as Anna felt.

"What were you and Peter talking about?"

"Just some things," Anna said vaguely, not wanting to get into the discussion about Aslan's promise. "Susan . . . do you ever feel like that you've been holding something in for so long that you're about to explode, but you're afraid to tell this particular secret because you don't want to screw everything up, because you like things the way that they are?" Susan paused at the end of Anna's very long question and stood up, walking over to sit with Anna on her bed, her blue eyes serious.

"What kind of a secret are we talking about?" she asked and Anna looked down, not sure if she wanted to divulge the deepest secret that was engraved in her heart, even to Susan, who was closest to her next to Peter. "Anna, come on, I can't help you if you don't tell me."

Anna sighed, still not meeting Susan's eyes. "I—I love Peter," she finally forced out. Susan's eyes went wide at this confession, realisation sweeping over her.

"Ohhh . . . you mean more than a friend?" she asked. Neither one of the girls noticed that there was someone standing outside their tent, listening.

"Yes . . . it's been like this for a long time. I don't know when I stopped thinking of Peter as just a friend and started thinking of him as something more," Anna admitted, staring down into her hands. "Susan . . . whenever I'm around him . . . I feel like I can't breathe . . . and it just keeps getting worse. All it takes is a smile, a touch, a glance . . . and I feel like everything is . . ." She shook her head. "I can't even describe it. Have you ever felt like this?"

"No." Susan smiled, shaking her head. "Well, there was this one boy that I liked, but it was nothing like this. Nothing like the way that you're describing, Anna." She paused. "Have you tried telling Peter?"

"Oh, no," Anna said, shaking her head. "No, I can't tell him that, Sue. He . . . he's my best friend and I don't want to do anything to mess that up. Especially with the battle coming up. I don't want to distract him."

To her great surprise, Susan released a laugh that almost woke Lucy and both girls were quiet until they were sure that Lucy was sound asleep. "Distract him, you silly girl? For goodness sake, Peter is as crazy about you as you are about him!"

Anna stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about how every time he gets close to you, he looks like he's got a sunburn and how he's always holding your hand and watching you when he thinks nobody's watching." Susan shook her head. "Anna, don't you see? Peter is in love with you."

--

It took a long time for Anna to fall asleep after Susan's revelation to her, unable to believe what her friend had told her, but a part of her knew that it was true.

When she finally managed to slip into the dream world, she found herself being pulled away, to another place, where events were taking place at that very moment, where Susan and Lucy had slipped away with Aslan and were watching as Anna dreamed the events.

There were dozens upon dozens of creatures of the night, those who thrived in darkness as Anna stood in the midst of them, a mere observed, unable to change the events as she watched the Witch stand on top of the Stone Table, where Aslan was slowly making his way to her. The creatures were backing away with fear and apprehension as he finally came to a stop.

"Behold, the Great Lion." The Witch's voice was filled with an odd sense of triumph as she looked down at him. Anna's blood had frozen in fear as she watched the events unfold, unable to stop them.

Without warning, the Minotaur who commanded her army struck out at Aslan, sending him to the ground. Anna wanted to scream, but she had no voice as she watched the lion bound and gagged before he was humiliated, his mane sawed off and the knives torn into his flesh.

"Bring him to me," the Witch told them. Aslan was dragged harshly up on the Stone Table. Anna couldn't help but feel proud as Aslan didn't struggle against them, just accepted whatever they were doing. And she knew, deep within her, that he was doing this for them, for Edmund.

The taunts and jeering from the crowd slowly began to rise and Anna could feel silent tears swarming down her cheeks as she watched this, her feet frozen where she stood, her hands clasped over her mouth as she sobbed.

The Witch threw out her hand, silencing them before they began a slow and steady beat.

Anna wished that she couldn't hear the Witch's words to Aslan, but she could; she could hear ever word. "You know, Aslan, I'm a little disappointed in you. Did you honestly think that by all of this, you could save the human traitor? You are giving me your life and saving no one." She let out a short laugh. "So much for love," she taunted him.

Anna could only watch Aslan through her tears and his eyes trained on her for a moment, as though he could see her there, before they focused on something else behind her. She turned and saw Susan and Lucy hiding in the trees near the Witch and her followers. What were they doing here? Why were they in the tent?

But her attention was brought back to the events as the Witch spoke to her followers. "Tonight . . . the Deep Magic will be appeased. But tomorrow," she added, her voice filled with a sick sense of triumph, "we will take Narnia forever!" The crowd around her was cheering with delight as she looked down at Aslan. It was then that Anna saw the knife in her hands. "In that knowledge," she said, raising the knife, "despair . . . and die!"

The moment that the knife met Aslan's flesh, Anna released a bloodcurdling scream that brought Peter and Edmund running from their tent, weapons drawn. When they saw nothing in her tent, Peter ran to Anna, sobbing as she gripped her red hair tightly, rocking back and forth, and scooped her up into his arms.

"Anna, what is it? What's wrong?" He sounded panicked and fearful as he held her, cradling her gently.

"Peter . . . it's Aslan. He's dead."