Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: The blood games have one rule: Kill or be killed. Death clings to them all. The constant threat of death brings many things to the fore. Despair, hate, fear, and perhaps...even love. Surrounded by death, will Katerina Alambiel and Oreius keep their faith...and will they trust each other with the truth of their hearts?

A/N: If you have not read the first four stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakening, Shadowed, Revealed. and Concealed), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Extra Chapter Warning: High T for this chapter.

Chapter Nine: The Blood Games

Everywhere there were wounds, moans, gore; one could only see danger. ~ Pseudo-Quintillian

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

There was no sun in this place, but the arena was lit with large braziers and with sunlight reflected by vast mirrors. It made the arena occasionally challenging to navigate as stepping into a beam of light could blind one. Oreius narrowed his eyes against the beam of light from the mirror that had been shifted so it blinded any of the fighters in the arena who happened to wander into its path. There were hundreds of people present, all cheering or booing as they watched the fighters being gleaned. Oreius kept his face impassive as he blocked one of the men's strikes that had been meant for Alambiel's back. The man's one good eye narrowed in anger then widened and glazed over as another fighter took advantage of his inattention to run him through with a sword.

Oreius didn't bother to hide his disgust at the complete lack of honor in this fight…in this entire place. Then he shoved it down as he focused on protecting Alambiel and himself. They needed to survive. He scanned the arena but there were more bodies on the ground than fighters standing. The wounded who were still alive moaned, only to attract the attention of two of the most ruthless and dishonorable men who then dispatched with agonizing slowness as they would leave many wounds over a period of time. They circled back each time there was a break between fighting those still able to fight back and continue to wound the injured until they finally landed a true killing blow. And the crowd cheered.

Two men launched coinciding attacks (the only intentional teamwork had been displayed by Alambiel and himself). Oreius deflected the blow from the sword and charged the man, narrowly avoiding the other man's axe. He cut down the swordsman and wheeled to face the axman. He was forced to immediately rear up to avoid the axe swinging for his legs. Fortunately, the axman had no experience fighting Centaurs. He stepped too far into his swing, which brought him too close to Oreius. Oreius swiftly dispatched the man.

But, he had lost track of Alambiel... He heard a shout from behind and turned to face the new threat, only to be blinded as the mirror was shifted so the beam of light hit his eyes. He jerked away from the light and blinked rapidly, hoping to clear his vision sooner. His vision came back into focus just in time for him to see a man aiming a spear at his horse ribs. Just as he raised his sword in a sure to be futile effort to deflect the spearhead, the man jerked and dropped the spear before falling to his knees, revealing Alambiel standing behind him. She jerked her knives free of his back and then cut his throat before looking at Oreius with a wide, horrified gaze. And the crowd cheered.

The two barred gates on either end of the arena abruptly rose and the still-living fighters retreated. Herded like dumb beasts into the appropriate chutes, Oreius clenched his jaw as Alambiel was forced into a different side tunnel and then two iron gates slammed down behind and in front of him. As they had the previous two days, or more accurately the previous two times he had returned from the arena, the guards would not allow him forward until he relinquished his sword. Patience. He set the sword on the wooden table, which was then pulled back and snagged by one of the guards before they finally raised the iron gate in front of him.

As soon as the guards left, Oreius moved close to the bars separating his and Alambiel's cells. He couldn't see her but he could hear her breathing, too steady and too controlled as it was after she had suffered from a panic attack and was focused on hiding it from everyone. He rested his hand against the stone wall and wished he could give her something of true comfort and hope...but the opportunities for escape were even more limited than he had previously assumed. Still... "An bhfuil tú ceart go léir?" (Are you all right?)

Her voice was steady, but he could hear the tiny thread of uncertainty...of that horror at her own actions he had seen in her eyes earlier. "Is ea. Uimh Níl a fhios agam níos mó. Mharaigh mé air, Oreius, mharaigh mé é mar a bhí mé-" (Yes. No. I do not know anymore. I killed him, Oreius, I killed him like I was-)

Oreius flicked his tail and stamped a hoof as he cut her off before she could finish that sentence. "Ná ní. Nach bhfuil tú mhaith leo. Throid tú le onóir in áit ina bhfuil onóir marbh. Éist liom, Alambiel. Nach bhfuil tú iad...agus nach bhfuil tú dúnmharfóir." (Don't. You are not like them. You fought with honor in a place where honor is dead. Hear me, Alambiel. You are not them...and you are not a murderer.)

"Oreius..."

Her voice trailed off before she could even finish her protest. He needed her to see the truth of the matter. What's more, she needed to see the truth of the matter. He pressed his hand harder against the wall, wishing he could speak to her face-to-face, but he did not risk asking her to hang on to the bars. "Inis dom cén fáth a mharaigh tú é." (Tell me why you killed him.)

The silence that followed was long and painful before her ragged whisper broke it. "Mar gheall ar shlí eile a bheadh sé a bheith mharaigh tú. Ach ní hionann sin a dhéanamh air..." (Because otherwise he would have killed you. But that doesn't make it...)

Again, he interrupted, taking care to keep his tone gentle yet firm. He would brook no further argument from her. She knew better, but still the past three "days" had been difficult for her and he knew she feared becoming heartless and bloodthirsty...becoming like her Monster. "Mharaigh tú ar an gcúis chéanna tú a throid agus maraíodh san am atá caite: a chosaint. Alambiel, nach bhfuil tú dúnmharfóir agus nach bhfuil tú ag éirí cosúil dó." (You killed for the same reason you have fought and killed in the past: to protect. Alambiel, you are not a murderer and you are not becoming like him.)

The next silence was even longer until he thought she wouldn't speak to him again. But then her soft whisper reached him. "Oreius? Go raibh maith agat." (Thank you.)

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

Katerina woke up with a soft gasp. She tensed but Oreius didn't question her...she must not have made any noticeable noise, which was good because she didn't want to talk about or admit to having nightmares. Getting to her feet, she jumped up and grabbed the bars, pulling herself up just long enough to see Oreius' profile as he slept standing up. She dropped back down silently and let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. For a moment, she had feared he was gone...

Her gaze was drawn to that low wall and what it hid again. She'd been avoiding looking behind the wall for the past three days (at least she thought it was days...being stuck underground with no clocks or windows to stars, moon, or sun made it very difficult to say for sure how long they'd been there). She cautiously walked over and peeked around the low wall...

She hurried back over to the wall and, grabbing the bars, pulled herself up so she could see Oreius and hissed, "Oreius!"

He didn't respond.

"Oreius!"

He abruptly looked at her then came to stand in front of the bars, "What is wrong?"

"There are dead people in here!" He raised an eyebrow, but Katerina continued before he could say something that he would regret, "I'm serious. There are five bodies, well, skeletons stacked behind the wall in the back left corner. Five, Oreius!"

The Kentauri gave her an impassive look then asked, "What wall?"

"You don't have a wall hiding dead bodies in your cell?"

He shook his head.

"I want to trade cells."

Oreius' mouth twitched, "What?"

"I want to trade cells. I'll take yours since it's skeleton-free and you can have the creepy cell."

Whatever response the Kentauri would have made was cut off before it had even begun as the door to her cell was raised. She dropped to the floor and moved cautiously to the center of her cell. Two burly guards came in and grabbed Katerina by the arms then dragged her down the tunnel. She caught a glimpse of Oreius watching her with that impassive look he always used to keep people from knowing he was worried. The guards eventually shoved her into the area she had dubbed the sinister waiting room and then dropped the gate, blocking the way back. Her knives were set out on the table along the far wall, all twelve of them...not counting the hair ornament blades, which they had simply taken, seemingly without realizing they were more weapons. She suppressed a shudder at the memory of how...eagerly they had searched her for weapons (it was a good thing that Oreius hadn't witnessed the actual search...that would have been humiliating). Fortunately, none of them had been able to snag Chrysaor from the saddle sheath, so it was still with Pepin...wherever he was.

"Arm yourself, my little spitfire, or you'll join the rest of the harlots and I will give you to Nimrod first."

Katerina turned her head just enough to glare at Ninklim and rattled off in French, "Je serai généreux et vous appeler chef de rongeurs crasseux, fils de rien et colporteur de mort." (I shall be generous and call you chief of filthy rodents, you son of none and peddler of death.)

She watched Ninklim's face darken with anger (he may not have understood French but her tone had made it clear that what she said was uncomplimentary) but then his teeth flashed in a vicious mockery of a grin, "Such fire and spirit...maybe Nergal was correct to compare you to Ishara. Should you live past the end of the week, my little spitfire, perhaps I should proclaim you to be Ishara reborn in mortal form, hmm? The bets would be even higher...and so would the offers from the men who want to be the first to break Ishara reborn as Tash broke Ishara."

She gave him no response. Instead, she clamped down on the surge of revulsion and fear his words had caused and focused on arming herself. Katerina took a breath as she slid her last dagger into its sheath. She fought to survive, to protect herself and to protect Oreius, to...to bide her time until escape was possible. She fought with honor. She was not a murderer. The gate in front of her raised and she walked out into the arena, which was brightly lit again but no games with the mirror were being played. She looked to her left, searching for Oreius, but he was not there. A quick glance to her right confirmed her fear. She was alone. No one fought with her. She didn't have Oreius at her back.

The man who emerged from the opposite side of the arena was one of the crueler fighters from the previous group mêlées. He wielded a mace and a scimitar, but wore no armor. Katerina forced all outside thoughts from her focus, sinking into the warrior's center. She darted in, dodging the mace and shunting the scimitar aside with her left knife, and scored a neat line down the man's unprotected side before darting out of range again. The heavy spiked mace arced toward her. She darted inside the mace's range and scored a deep cut along the man's other side before spinning away from the scimitar. Again, she darted in and out, finding weaknesses in the man's defense and using them to her advantage. Without Oreius or anyone else to guard her back, she had no choice to harry the other fighter first; otherwise, she would commit to a killing blow and possibly receive one herself. She sliced a deep cut into the man's right arm, severing the tendons and causing his scimitar to drop to the sandy floor of the arena. A flash was all she saw and she leapt to her left, but one of the spikes on the mace still caught and tore through her right sleeve, stinging as it cut a long but shallow furrow down her right upper arm. Instead of leaping away again, Katerina dove forward, sinking both knives between the man's ribs. He gasped and gagged before collapsing at her feet. I feel sick. And the crowd cheered.

They refused to raise the gate that would allow her to leave the arena. Instead, to the growing cheers of the crowd, she was forced to fight and kill four more men. Finally, she was sent to the healer to have her wounds tended and treated for any possible poisons, and then she was escorted back to her cell.

She heard Oreius approach the barred window as soon as the guards left and whisper, "An bhfuil tú ceart go léir?" (Are you all right?)

She closed her eyes and murmured, "Tá cónaí orm go fóill." (I still live.)

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

Oreius exhaled heavily as he stepped back into the cell. They had put him through ten individual fights that were so unfair the only mercy he could offer was a swift death. He could tell by Ninklim's smug expression that he was building up to something, but Lion only knew what. Still, he was grateful to hear Alambiel muttering under her breath and the sound of her light footsteps as she paced in her cell. It had disturbed him greatly when they took her alone the day before, though he had taken care to hide that from their captors and fellow prisoners.

Once the other prisoners had quieted down, Oreius moved close to the wall and waited as Alambiel pulled herself up so they could see each other. "An bhfuil tú ceart go léir?" (Are you all right?)

She nodded then immediately countered, "Oreius, a cheapann tú go bhfuil Pepin i Narnia? B'fhéidir go bhfuil a rinne sé é agus tá siad ag lorg dúinn." (Oreius, do you think Pepin is in Narnia? Maybe he has made it and they are looking for us.)

He wished she hadn't pinned so much hope on Pepin being found and making it to Narnia. The hope in her eyes made it difficult for him to speak, but she needed to be honest with herself about their chances. He wrapped his hands around hers, trying to somehow soften the blow of his words. "Alambiel. Alambiel, tá a fhios agat go bhfuil sé dócha nach bhfuil. Táimid...Ní féidir linn brath ar tarrthála. Ní leis an rúndacht a bhaineann leis an áit." (Alambiel. Alambiel, you know he probably hasn't. We...we cannot depend on a rescue. Not with the secrecy surrounding this place.)

He cringed inside as he watched the desperate hope in her eyes die and felt her hands tightening underneath his before she softly asked, "Agus is féidir linn a rá go cinnte go mbeidh muid ag éalú? Oreius, níl aon bhealach chun bhfeidhm na geataí ar oscailt ón taobh istigh na cealla nó taobh istigh den tollán." (And, can we say for certain that we will escape? Oreius, there's no way to force the gates open from inside the cells or inside the tunnels.)

Oreius flicked his tail then tried to give her something, anything, to hold on to so that her hope wouldn't die completely. She was having a difficult enough time as it was without her losing all hope. "Tá a fhios agam. Tá a fhios agam, ach ní chiallaíonn nach féidir linn éalú. Ní mór dúinn bide ár gcuid ama agus fanacht ar an ionú dúinn." (I know. I know, but that doesn't mean we can't escape. We must bide our time and wait for the opportune moment.)

A hard, cynical light appeared in her eyes as she bluntly asked, "Mar sin, ní mór dúinn deifir suas agus fanacht?" (So, we hurry up and wait?)

"Is ea." (Yes.) She didn't say another word, merely slipped her hands from beneath his as she dropped to the floor of her cell. He stood there for a moment, hands still around the bars, and wished he had said something more, something that just might have given her comfort and hope. I love you. Instead, he didn't say anything and moved to the center of his cell...Alambiel needed to rest and so did he if they were to get through the next day's fight...

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

She stood in a beautiful meadow. She smiled as she recognized it as the meadow where Oreius would take her to spar and sometimes they would go there just to talk, getting away from the hectic busyness that was Cair Paravel. On an impulse, she bent down and picked some flowers, forget-me-not's. Oreius chuckled and she turned to see him watching her, looking very relaxed. She bit her lip then walked toward him, "There's something I want to tell you, Kentauri. It's...well, it's important."

He leaned toward her, brushing her hair back, and pressed his mouth against her ear and whispered, "Are you going to tell me that you love me?"

She shivered and opened her mouth to answer but then he vanished. She felt something dripping down her hands and, looking down, gasped as the flowers she had gathered transformed into a bleeding heart, which then fell from her limp and bloody fingers. The meadow vanished, leaving the bloodstained sand of the arena with the wounded and dead bodies lying at her feet. Then the laugh she feared and despised echoed around her as the Monster came forward, "Hello, Princess. Look what you have done." He leaned toward her and moved her hair back so he could place his mouth right against her ear as he breathed, "What a little murderer we have become, your highness. Just. Like. Me."

She screamed and jerked away from him, "No! No, I am not like you!"

She picked up her skirts and ran for the open gate of the arena. She had to get out. She had to get away. "Alambiel!"

She stopped and turned, scanning the whole arena, "Oreius?"

The Monster laughed again as he tackled her to the ground, his foul breath washing over her, and then he roughly turned her to look at the bodies lying on the ground all around her, "Look! Look what you have done. You think anyone will want you? Especially him? You have betrayed everything he stands for, everything you thought you could pretend you also believed. You are nothing but a heartless killer. You delight in the kill."

"No!"

He ignored her and kept talking, "Yes, you are just like me, Princess. Murderer. And, you're going to do it again...and again until you have lost everything and everyone you love."

"No." She couldn't believe it. "No. Oreius! Oreius, help me! Aslan! Help! Help me please! Please! Oreius!"

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

Oreius raised his head. He thought he had heard something. There. A soft whimper and shuddering breath. He listened for a moment then moved toward the wall between his and Alambiel's cells. Another soft cry of distress. Alambiel. Looking through the bars, he could barely see her curled up in a ball in the center of her cell. It was difficult to tell through the shadows, but he thought she was crying. She let out another whimper, "Uimh. Uimh, le do thoil. Ná ní...Ní le do thoil arís! Oreius. Uimh nach bhfuil mé ina dúnmharfóir. Níl mé. I... Uimh! Uimh thoil! Oreius... Aslan. Cabhair!" (No. No, please. Don't...not again please! Oreius. No. I'm not a murderer. I'm not. I... No! No. Please! Oreius... Aslan. Help!)

He quietly called her name, hoping to wake her, but she remained locked in the grip of the nightmare. If only she were closer to the wall... Oreius stamped a hoof and pressed his hand against the wall, praying that Aslan would alleviate Alambiel's nightmares. She didn't need that extra burden. But, she continued to cry and whisper hoarsely in her sleep. His name was said often, almost more often than Aslan's, but he couldn't always tell if she were beseeching him to help or to stop. Aslan, help her and soothe her dreams, as I cannot. Give her strength, Great Lion...give us both strength.

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

Katerina sat up with a gasp and scrubbed at the tears she could feel running down her face. No weakness shown. She couldn't allow it. Oreius was watching her through the bars when she stood, "Why didn't you tell me about the nightmares?"

"What nightmares?"

He frowned, "Alambiel-"

She shook her head, "No. I haven't had any nightmares, Oreius. Let's just focus on getting through whatever they have planned for us today, hmm?"

He didn't look happy but the opening of his cell cut him off before he could try to pin her down. Aslan, keep him safe. She had been almost reduced to biting her nails (which she might have if they had been cleaner) when he was gone for so long yesterday. She had seen the way the people running this place had intentionally hobbled Oreius as much as they could by blinding him with the mirror-light when they'd fought during the group mêlées and she feared what would happen if she wasn't there to guard his back. Then her own cell was opened and she was escorted to the sinister waiting room. A barrier divided her side of the room from the side where Oreius stood. She couldn't help feeling relief that she would be able to watch the Kentauri's back...and that she wasn't being forced to fight alone again.

As soon as they armed themselves and the large gate to the arena opened, she could feel that the day's fight was different...even though it looked no different as she and Oreius stepped out into the lit arena and across from the two cruelest men...the ones who circled the wounded and tormented them like unscrupulous and sadistic jackals. Oreius made a slight gesture, one that would have been interpreted as him just flexing his hand by anyone not in the Narnian army, and she shifted her stance. The two men charged Oreius, deeming him the biggest threat...their mistake. Katerina jumped on the near fighter's back and twisted, using his own weight and momentum to slam him hard into the sand. The crowd cheered.

She leapt up and to the side, drawing her knives, keeping one eye on her assigned fighter and one eye on the Kentauri. The man snarled a vile epithet at her and swiped at her feet with his long sword. Katerina leapt up and turned her jump into a kick at the man's throat. Her boot just missed his windpipe. She blocked three hard strikes, giving up some ground, before countering with her own blitz attack as she darted in and out of his guard. His sword grazed her side, drawing blood, right before she buried her knife in his heart. The crowd cheered as she turned to see Oreius had also defeated his opponent.

And, then another gate opened. Katerina tensed when she heard the howls. Werewolf. The Werewolf raced into the arena and straight for her, the scent of her blood apparently causing it to disregard Oreius entirely. She dropped into a crouch at the same time she raised her knives as the Werewolf leapt on her, impaling himself on her knives. The Fell Beast's momentum bowled them both over but she quickly shoved the body off her and jumped back to her feet, drawing two more knives as she did so. And the crowd cheered.

Oreius stepped closer to her, so they were more back to back than before as the gate raised once again, but this time a Manticore was released. She hissed to him, "Remember, cut the stinger and then go for the open mouth. I'll distract him."

The Manticore snarled and didn't speak as he charged them. Katerina darted forward and barely avoided the stinger as she raked her knife down his side. The Manticore roared as Oreius took advantage of the creature's distraction and cut the stinger off in one swift move. He spun and struck at Katerina, his claws tearing through her tunic, but not breaking skin. She slashed at his extended paw and he roared again, only to choke when Oreius took her place and rammed his claymore down the Fell Beast's throat. The Manticore collapsed and Oreius made sure it was dead by driving his sword through the point just below the skull. The crowd cheered.

Katerina exchanged an alarmed look with Oreius. If there were Fell Beasts such as Werewolves and Manticores, there was no telling what other Fell creatures they might be required to fight. But, they were ushered back into the sinister waiting room before they could say anything to each other. Ninklim was waiting for them. "Congratulations, my new prizes. You will be receiving new treatment from now on. Ishara Reborn, my little spitfire, you will have your wound tended and then the women will see you are bathed and given fresh clothes. And, you Centaur...you and I will speak privately." Katerina resisted glancing over her shoulder as her guards hustled her away toward the healer, but she feared what would be waiting for her when she returned to her cell. She doubted Ninklim had anything good to say to Oreius.

ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ

A/N: Please Read and Review! Okay, so this chapter was pretty dark and obviously we're fully into the angsty part of the story. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.