Author's Note: I finally got some inspiration for this story. Yes, I'm fully aware of how horrible a person I am for making you wait this long for a new update. I mean, I started this story forever ago. Feel free to throw rotten fruit at me. I deserve it. :/

Chapter 10- Power

Aaryn woke the next morning with a massive headache. Though, as she looked around, she wasn't entirely sure if it was the next morning. It took her a few groggy moments to assess her situation and realize the camp was moving after only a few hours of sleep, it's members fully aware that they were still in danger of being attacked by Narnia's royal family.

"Move it, girl." Forian commanded, his furry hand pulling her up by the back collar of her dress and nearly choking her in the process. Aaryn gritted her teeth at the degrading treatment, but said nothing. She used her bound hands to pull her down her dress in some sort of a dignified manner before she was roughly shoved forward by the club in another minotaur's hand.

As Forian moved to the front of the group, she was glad to be left in the middle, guarded by two wolves, a minotaur, and a ghoul. She wasn't pleased to be in their presence, either, but it made her feel less like the terrified child that had once been harassed by Forian. She'd fought plenty of wolves, minotaurs, and ghouls in her last seven years as princess of Narnia, how were her captors any different?

They hold the upper hand this time. her subconscious told her, but she tried to push that out of her mind and instead worried about where they were taking her. They were still headed toward the sea, which was what she didn't understand. She had expected a quick route to Ettinsmoor or some other area where they could hide until her friends found her. Then again, just what was Forian planning to do with her? Use her as a bargaining chip? Surely he didn't really mean to keep her as a mere trophy? Was a trophy truly worth bringing the ire of an entire country down on oneself?

Then again, he could keep her as his slave, or even kill her, for the sheer satisfaction of knowing that he had angered so many- and devastated the royal family that had overthrown his "queen".

Ignoring the butterflies that ravaged her stomach in trying to speculate her captor's intent, she focused on trying to rip the bottom of her dress by stepping on the hem as discreetly as possible. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she would manage to tear off a bit for Ed to find.

Three days passed slowly and with monotonous consistency. She had managed to get two separate pieces ripped from her dress and left in the path, but now the hem in the front of her gown was up too high for her to step on. She had to trust that she'd be able to find another way of leaving a trail for her rescuers when necessary.

She could now smell the salt in the air and knew it wouldn't be long before they reached the shoreline. The ropes around her wrists had rubbed them raw. Every movement caused more irritation, but she refused to show it. She had to be strong, if only to keep her captors from having the satisfaction of seeing her pain or despair.

At least their jeering had ended, she consoled herself. That truly was an improvement. For the first day and a half, Forian's troops had mocked her and her predicament, even the royal family, in a way that would have made her retch if she weren't so focused on being composed. It was when they realized they wouldn't get a reaction out of her that they finally ended it.

Lucy couldn't touch her food. No matter how much she knew she need it's nourishment, she knew eating it would only cause her to get sick all over the table and that was not something she looked forward to. The entire castle was in an uproar, if not the entire country at this point. News that Narnia's princess had been kidnapped by none other than Jadis's second in command was sent a shock through the land.

Not only was it a terrifyingly low blow, but also begged the question that if Forian had amassed his own small army within their borders, how many more bands of the Witch's followers were merely biding their time before they chose to strike?

Pushing her plate away wordlessly, Lucy stood to go check on Susan. She'd been fluttering in and out of consciousness for the past few hours. While it was a relief to know that she was healing, Lucy knew she wouldn't feel totally comfortable with her sister's predicament until she was out of bed and back to her usual duties. Then they would have at least a semblance of normalcy.

Edmund had sent word a few days ago that he had picked up on their trail and even found part of the hem of Aaryn's garment, but her captors were moving too quickly for him. They were picking up the pace, but were easily three days behind them at this rate, mostlly due to the fact that they had originally followed a false trail instead of the real one. Reading between the lines, the young queen knew her brother would be beating himself up over it.

Peter had cursed and slammed his fist into the wall when she'd read it aloud. Lucy had managed to keep her tears to herself until she'd made time to be alone in her room a while.

She came upon Susan trying to talk her way out of bed and couldn't help a relieved smile as she entered the room.

"Susan, you don't know how good it is to hear you arguing with someone again."

Her older sister scowled as she pushed aside the well-meaning nurse and stood with only a few moments of swaying before correcting herself. She held one arm loosely around her stomach, as if protecting it from the world, and leaned heavily on her left leg.

"Has Aaryn been recovered from Forian's grasp?"

"No, though I'm surprised you remember what happened to you. It's not uncommon for someone with a concussion as bad as yours was to forget the events leading up to their injury."

"I don't remember all of it, but I do remember being attacked and Forian's face. That's all the information I needed."

Lucy shrugged in understanding, trying not to focus too much on her sister's bruising on the left side of her face- which included, but was not limited to, a black eye. "How are you feeling?"

"Well enough to help with her recovery." Susan pointed out quickly, trying to limp toward the door. "You are going to need all the help you can get."

"I don't think so." Lucy scolded, taking control of the situation by guiding an irritable Susan back to her bed. "First, we'll make sure you're cleared to go back to your room. Then you're going to take a nice long bath. Then, we'll see about your helping with something non-strenuous."

Susan growled but couldn't argue, clearly aware that her younger sister always knew best in these situations.

It wasn't until midday the next day that Forian took her and a few trusted beasts with him and told the rest to head back home- wherever that was.

"I demand to be released." Aaryn hissed as a ghoul's grip on her forearm tighted and he thrust her forward, throwing her into a small boulder. She gasped loudly as the breath was knocked out of her and only managed to glare at her amused captors.

"Sit, woman." A black dwarf growled. Knowing she'd only evoke more abuse if she didn't obey, she twisted and seated herself on the rock, her stony expression and rigid posture speaking of her nobility and only her eyes revealing her inner terror. What on earth were they doing?

She got her answer when the dwarf took hold of her hair only a couple of inches below the nape of her neck and yanked downward with enough force to make her lean awkwardly back, but without falling atop him. She felt a tugging and the sound of something being torn and realized her hair was being cut. Her scalp felt like it was on fire from the pulling and uncomfortable sawing at the back of her head, but she survived until it was done.

The dwarf cackled wildly as he held more than fifteen inches of dirtied blonde hair in his hand and waved it in her face. Aaryn knew they were trying to shame her and disguise her in one fell swoop. Much like the dishonor that came with a lion's mane being shorn, so it was with a woman's hair. A woman's hair was considered her honor and to have it cut so short was considered a disgrace. It was considered something far more fit for a slave than a princess, that much was clear.

Thus, the Narnian women who had attended she and Lucy at the beginning of their rule had all but cheered their hair along as it grew. They had been children then, though, so it was overlooked. At her age, she could only imagine the looks she'd be given among foreign embassies.

Forian covered her with a hooded cloak and made sure it was securely over her head.

"I at least have a right to understand what we're doing." she growled angrily.

"You're being sold, wench." another minotaur spat. "That should be obvious."

"The buying and selling of slaves is illegal in Narnia." she said, taken aback at his statement. Fear lapped at the edges of her vision. The ghoul, after receiving a nod from his captain, gagged her as Forian made his response.

His laugh boomed through the wooded area where they stood. "Do you truly think that matters to me? I already have a buyer ready for you." He grabbed her chin and turned her face back and forth to study it. She pulled away and nearly earned herself a slap, but he stopped himself. "It's a shame I won't be keeping you as a trophy. You'd be a lovely addition to my house, though we'd have to break that disgustingly rebellious spirit of yours. I'm sure your new master will have a lovely time of doing that himself. Power is far more intoxicating than a pretty face."

And with that lovely litter revelation, he led her to where she was apparently going to be sold into slavery.

This week just keeps getting better and better. she sighed inwardly as she was shoved forward.

It took half an hour to reach their destination, a grove of trees a few miles from one of the largest ports in Narnia. Aaryn felt her heart jump into her throat and her stomach twist into a knot as she watched two cloaked men approach. She wasn't just being sold. She was being sold to an overseas buyer. She was as good as lost to her family. This time, she couldn't help but let the tears fall in silence down her face. Panic flooded her mind and her eyes darted around wildly, searching for some sort of escaped, even a stray Narnian who might see her predicament and come to her aid.

"Is this the princess?" the first man asked, cutting quickly to the point.

"See for yourself." Forian grouched as if inconvenienced by their question.

The second man moved forward and pulled her hood off. Aaryn gritted her teeth as he took her chin in his his hand and turned her face, much like Forian had before, but with less fierceness. "It's her." he nodded.

Handing Forian precisely six melon-sized bags of what she presumed were gold coins, the two men led her away swiftly and toward a small boat that was had been pulled halfway on to the beach. Aaryn waited until she was certain Forian and his band of soldiers were gone before making her move.

As the two men approached the boat with one keeping a firm hand wrapped around her upper arm, she slammed her foot down on his boot and pulled her arm from his grasp. Swinging downward with her bound hands balled up into fists, she slammed them down on the back of his head, sending him face first into the sand.

"Hey!" his friend called out, starting to run toward her. Unable to do anything else, she spun around and started sprinting in the opposite direction. Running in sand was never a gift she'd aquired and, glancing backward, Aaryn realized her new captor would quickly overtake her. Reaching up, she yanked the gag out of her mouth and started screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Someone help me! I'm being kidnapped! Help! Anyone!" Any more pleas were cut off as she was tackled roughly. Her body slammed onto the ground and her mouth filled with sand. Panic and adrenaline shot through her system simultaneously. She tried to kick and wriggle her way out from under his heavier body, but it was no use. She was captured and there was nothing she could do about it anymore.

Oh, Aslan, she prayed as her tears mixed with the sand. Where are you?