The Lost Queen

by the Lady of the Mists

Chapter Ten: Preparing for Battle

Peter held her tightly as Edmund took a step back, his eyes wide with shock and horror. "Shh, Anna, it's okay," he assured her, stroking her red hair affectionately. "It was just a dream, it wasn't real. Aslan's not dead." Anna shook her head as she buried her face into his chest, her body shaking with sobs at the dream.

She couldn't explain to Peter that she knew what she saw was real, because she could feel it, deep within her? Tears swarmed her vision as Edmund hesitantly walked over to them, placing a hand on her shoulder before he joined in on the embrace. Between the two boys that she cared about most, Anna almost could believe that it was just a dream, that what she had seen wasn't real.

Almost.

But it all came to a halt when the door to the tent flapped open and leaves flew inside. Peter sprung to his feet, startling Anna and yanked out his sword, directing towards the leaves as they swarmed into a woman. No, not a woman, a dryad.

She held up her hand to stop Peter from attacking. "Be still, my Princes." Her voice was soft and mystical, but carrying a hint of sadness in them. Anna felt her blood turn cold at the sound of it; she knew that she carried terrible news. "I bring grave news from your sisters."

Peter went pale as he slowly lowered his sword away from the dryad, listening intently as Anna slowly stood up, still shaking, the aftermath of her dream, walking over to her best friend, his brother right behind her. All of them knew, she thought, an instant before the dryad said it.

"Aslan is dead."

No one moved, no one even breathed. All any of them could do was stare at the dryad, shocked by the revelation that Anna had given herself only moments before and Peter looked as though he were frozen on the spot. Edmund was pale and Anna wanted to crawl into the furthest corner of the tent and hide there. This was her fault . . .

"What?" Edmund finally whispered, his voice shaking as he spoke. The dryad looked at him, her own emotions showing into her face.

"He is gone," she whispered, her mystical voice unsteady. "Killed by the White Witch." Anna backed away from the dryad, the guilt rising through her and she fled, running as fast as she could, not able to meet Peter's eyes as she ran away from the brothers.

"My fault," she whispered when she reached the river where just yesterday, she had met with Aslan and he'd spoken to her about her place in this country. "It's my fault!" she screamed at the sky, not sure who she was screaming at. She could've been screaming at herself, at Narnia, or the universe at large.

Anna yanked out her sword and brought it down on a rock, bits of rock sprayed as the stone met her blade. She brought it down again and again until she'd smashed the rock into two and she sank down onto her knees, whispering "my fault" over and over again.

"It's not your fault," Edmund said from behind her. Anna turned around to see the younger brother behind her. She pushed away the tears she hadn't realised that had gathered there. "Just because you had a dream doesn't make it your fault, Anna. You dreamt it, you didn't cause it."

"You don't know that." Anna had dropped her sword onto the ground, curling her legs up underneath her as she sniffled, trying to calm herself, but she couldn't find the words.

"You don't know that it is," Edmund responded. She glanced up at him, startled. He walked closer to her, holding out her hand. "Come on, Peter's at Aslan's tent, to see if what the dryad said was really true. If it is . . . then we're going to be going to battle. And we're going to need you on board, if you're still planning to fight."

"Peter . . ." Anna shook her head, not taking Edmund's hand just yet. "How can I even face him? Ed . . . I saw it, I dreamed it, it makes it my fault." She looked away, wiping away the tears that still streamed down her face.

"No, it doesn't," Edmund said, sounding exasperated with her. "Look at me, does it look like I'm blaming you for this?" She turned and saw that he didn't have a single accusation look on his face. "Because I don't. It's not your fault, Anna. It's mine. And for the record, Pete doesn't blame you either."

"He doesn't?"

"Nah." Edmund grinned at her and she gave a small, watery smile back. "He's just worried about you. Now come on." Anna paused, the tears not having evaporated yet, but she was crying less than she had before. She finally accepted Edmund's offered hand and he helped her up before they headed back to the camp.

They were about halfway to Aslan's camp when Anna stopped short, turning to look at the younger Pevensie brother. "Ed . . . what did you mean by it was your fault?" she asked, frowning towards him. Edmund looked down, shame evident in his face.

"It's because of me that he's . . . don't you see? This was the promise that he made to the Witch so she wouldn't kill me." His face crumpled and Anna's heart broke. She drew him into her arms, holding him tightly against her. Edmund's arms wrapped around her as he sought comfort.

"No, Edmund, it's not your fault." She pulled away just enough to look at him in the eyes. "If it's not my fault, then it's not yours either. Aslan must have known what he was doing."

Edmund nodded, but it was clear that he didn't believe it. "He must have. Listen to me, Ed, you made a choice. The wrong one, but you made it. But that doesn't mean that you have to be condemned for all of eternity for that choice. You've got the chance to make up for your mistake, that's something that few people have."

"You think?" Anna nodded and he smiled up at her. "All right. Let's go find Peter."

They walked together until they reached the front of the camp, where Orieus was standing outside of Aslan's tent, his expression unreadable as Anna wiped away the last of her tears just as Peter came outside, looking relieved as he saw the two of them, but his face was filled with grief.

"She's right," he said quietly, looking older than Anna had ever seen him. It seemed that in only a few days, he had grown older. They all had. "He's gone." He placed his hands on the table that had the map of Narnia on it.

Anna, Orieus, and Edmund all looked at each other before Edmund looked to his brother. "Then you'll have to lead us," he said quietly. But Peter didn't answer, nor did he look at his brother or best friend. "Peter, there's an army out there and it's ready to follow you."

"I can't!"

"Aslan believed you could!" Edmund insisted, but that didn't cause Peter to change his mind. "And so do I."

Peter looked up at his statement before looking at Anna. She smiled at him through her grief and walked over to him, placing her hand on top of his and squeezing it tightly and tenderly. "We all do," she said softly, looking at him into the eyes.

At that moment, she wouldn't have cared if the Witch herself was on the approach, heading straight for them. In that moment, she saw love and adoration in his eyes that she had never seen before and she slowly started to believe what Susan had said the previous night was true; the feelings that existed within her was completely mutual.

But she was pulled back into the present, drawing her eyes away from Peter as Orieus said quietly, "The Witch's army is moving, sire. What are your orders?"

--

The rest of the morning was spent planning and strategising for the battle that was looming ever so closer. In the end, Peter planned out a simple strategy, with a second wave of attack coming from the ridge above where the battle would take place. Edmund was put in charge of the second wave, though he protested at first.

"Ed, I want you there to lead the archers," Peter insisted when his brother put up a protest. Anna was listening closely, her heart faltering when she heard his words. "And to get the girls home . . . should something happen." His voice trembled slightly as he said that, but otherwise gave no other sign of how afraid he was of the coming battle.

Edmund swallowed, the realisation that he could lose his brother hitting him in full. But he nodded, accepting the duty that Peter had put him in charge of, before Peter walked over to Anna.

"Anna, I want you to go with Ed on the ridge," he told her. But she glared up at him, shaking her head in defiance. "Please?"

"No."

"Come on, Anna—"

"I said no, Peter Pevensie," Anna retorted, standing up. "And I meant no. Listen to me, I love Edmund, he's like my brother and I don't want anything to happen to him, but that does not mean that I can let you go off on the front lines without me."

Peter looked helplessly at her, the desperation evident in his eyes. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Raising her head, she looked at him, her hands placed on her hips. "That," she said quietly, "is exactly my point." She didn't want him to get hurt either and both of them knew it. For better or for worse, they were together in this one. "I'm going with you, Peter. No matter what happens, you've got me by your side. Remember last night when you said that you were going to be right here with me? Well I'm holding you to that now. Side by side, together, in the middle of battle."

Slowly, Peter laced her fingers into his, raising her hand up and kissing her knuckles. A shiver went down her spine at the sensation and he smiled at her nodding in reluctant acceptance, neither one of them having noticed that Edmund had left. But they were also completely unaware that anybody else was there, if they had been. King Peter and Lady Anna had been left alone, for the moment.

Peter slowly reached for her, drawing her close and she laid her head onto his shoulder, not caring what he thought or who was watching. She just needed to be here, in his arms, before she went to battle. That was all that she wanted.

"Anna?" he whispered softly, his lips close to her ear and she raised her head to look at him. He was pale and looked awkward and nervous as he stood there, holding her. "I . . ."

When he didn't finish his thought, she slowly shifted in his embrace, pulling away just enough so that she could look at him in the eyes. "You what?" she whispered.

His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. He took a deep breath, then shook his head. "Nothing," he said softly, looking away. "Never mind."

"Peter . . ." Anna had no idea what she was going to say and instead, she reluctantly pulled away from him. "I should go get ready. The centaurs said that they had some armour for us."

"Right." Peter let go of her and she slowly walked away, not letting go of his hand until she was forced to. And as she left her best friend standing on that pavilion, she had the odd sensation of an opportune moment passed by.

Anna walked into her tent to find a female centaur named Veleda, already prepared for battle, with a battle dress lying out on her bed. She stared at it for a long moment before looking at Veleda. "Aslan was prepared for the five of you," she said with a smile. "And wanted you to be protected."

The gown was made of a deep purple, with chain-mail underneath to protect her, as well as armour across the chest with leather melded into the armour in a vest-like fashion. It was a gown made for a warrior princess. There were bracers on each arm made of brown leather.

Anna smiled faintly as she slowly changed, preparing herself for battle. Veleda helped her change into the gown, which was surprisingly comfortable. She strapped her sword to her side, slipping the necklace that she hadn't worn since she'd received it from Father Christmas underneath as she and Veleda walked outside.

Bridget was waiting for her outside of the tent. "Are you ready, my lady?" she asked as Anna climbed onto her.

Pausing for a moment as she adjusted her skirts, Anna realised that she was ready. "Like I've been waiting for this moment my entire life," she admitted, causing the mare to chuckle.

"I know the feeling."

Setting her face in a determined fashion, Anna gathered the reins in her hands. She was ready. They were ready.

Now, on to battle.

AN: For a better description of Anna's battle gown, just look for a picture of Susan's night raid dress from "Prince Caspian." That's just how I pictured the outfit. Don't sue me!

The Lady of the Mists