(If you know it, I don't own it.)
Chapter 11 A Taste of Blood
"Hermione," Ron whispered, "why is everyone looking at us like that?"
"Probably because we are just randomly walking into their camp."
"And the fact that we're, you know," Peter added, "Sons and Daughters of Adam."
"Well, that too."
The eight were now in the valley and deep within the field of tents. As they walked between the tents on a small path that was nothing more than worn down grass, every creature parted, looking in awe or in most cases, shock.
"Who goes there and what is your business?" came a deep voice. Looking up, the small group saw a fierce looking centaur holding a long blade in his hands. His coat was a deep brown and the man part of him was a dark tan, black hair falling to his shoulders. He stomped his hoof impatiently.
"We're, we're here to see Aslan," Peter stuttered.
"Yes," chimed in Susan, "we're Sons and Daughters of Adam."
"We need his help," Hermione pitched in.
"You are indeed Sons and Daughters of Adam are you?" the centaur said, almost in a challenging way.
"Well, yeah," Ron said as if the centaur was clearly out of his mind.
"You are not Sons and Daughters of Adam," the centaur glared at the Beavers and Mr. Winkle, his blade pointed at Mr. Beaver's chest.
"Well, obviously we're not humans," chuckled Mr. Beaver nervously, stepping backwards a little. "We're, you know, beavers. Well, not him," he pointed at Mr. Winkle. "He's a moose, I mean mouse. He's a mouse."
Mr. Winkle shot a dark glare at him.
"It is alright, Starr," came a deep, yet understanding voice from behind. The voice carried respect and fear. "I have been expecting them."
The crowed parted to make way for another creature. Every head was bowed, every knee was bent, Starr among them.
What the small group saw gave them such fear that you could hear them trembling. A giant lion was in front of them, his thick mane dancing in the breeze, his whiskers standing straight out, and his deep green eyes narrowed on them.
Peter was the first to bow. Taking out his sword and pointing it to the ground he knelt in front of the great king, Aslan. Without hesitation, everyone else followed suit.
"Arise Peter, Susan, and Lucy. Arise Harry, Ronald, and Hermione, and arise He and She Beaver and arise Mr. Winkle."
The eight stood up, but none looked the lion in the eyes out of fear and respect.
The lion chuckled and said in the most beautiful voice the group had ever heard, "Do not look at the ground. You may look upon my face."
They, very slowly, raised their faces, still a bit frightened to look Aslan in the face. Now they knew why the name alone caused such emotions, for meeting him face to face was the most frightening yet honorable thing they had ever done.
"There are only eight of you; only six Sons and Daughters of Adam. Where is the seventh? Where is Edmund?" Even though Aslan spoke this in a question, it was clear he knew the answer.
Peter stepped forward and looking down at the ground he said, "He has gone with the White Witch." The crowd of creatures gasped, looking at one another in horror. A quiet murmur went throughout the creatures. When they quieted down, Peter spoke again.
"It, it was my fault, Sir. I was mad at him and told him he was no good." He paused before adding very softly, "I'm sorry."
Susan stepped forward to her brother. "It was my fault as well. We were all too hard on him."
Aslan then turned his attention on the three Hogwarts students. "And where are your classmates?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked flabbergasted.
"Our classmates?" asked Hermione, confused.
"Yes. Draco, Pansy, Vincent, and Gregory?"
"Who the bloody hell are Vincent and Gregory?" Ron whispered.
"You know them better as Crabbe and Goyle," Aslan chuckled.
"Sir, Aslan," Harry started, "we were running away from them. I promised Mrs. McGonagall I wouldn't get into trouble with them for one week. We went inside a wardrobe and then we found ourselves here, in Narnia. The Slytherins never came with us."
"Quite the contrary," Aslan said, a smile forming on his face, well as good a smile as a lion can muster up that is. "They entered the same way as you. They have been trying to find you for quite some time now."
"Oh!" Hermione gasped. "You mean, they're with the White Witch as well?" Harry and Ron looked at her, then both boys grew a small grin on their faces.
"That is no wish for anyone here to find comfort," Aslan said, his power filling up his stern voice. "They must be found before the witch harms them more."
"But how?" Lucy asked. "How will we find them?" A tear began its decent down her cheek, brining reality back. This was no laughing matter. The White Witch was here for one thing and one thing only, to kill any and every human she could.
"Do not worry, dear Lucy," Aslan soothed. "Don't you have faith in me?" His eyes showed mercy and kindness, his voice comfort and healing.
"Yes, I have faith in you," Lucy answered.
"Then do not fear." A small smile found its way on Lucy's face.
Then to two creatures the small group did not see, "Take the boys and girls and wash them up. Dress them nicely and give them plenty to eat and drink."
Two fawns came over to them and bowed low. "I am Yelming and this is my sister, Olamine." They escorted the group towards two colorful tents. Yelming led the boys, including Mr. Beaver and Mr. Winkle into the tent on the right, and Olamine led the girls along with Mrs. Beaver into the one on the left.
When they came out, the girls were wearing beautiful dresses that nearly touched the ground. They were simple, yet elegant. The boys however were wearing dark slacks and light colored button-up shirts. Peter had his sword by his side. They were carrying their armor which Ron was having a very difficult time holding his tomahawk while hauling his helmet and armor. His chainmail was already on him.
"Ron, we're not going into battle yet," chuckled Harry.
"You never know," replied Ron, out of breath. "By Merlin's beard, this chain-shirt like thing is heavy."
"It's called chainmail," Hermione automatically said.
Yelming cleared his throat, making his presence known. "If you wish, there is a small stream right behind that hill," he pointed to their left. "It's very pleasant and the trees are lovely. You may go there if you'd like. I'm sure you have gone far and would like to rest."
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but last one there's a rotten Slytherin!" Ron shouted, trying to run with his chainmail still on. Without hesitation the rest of the Sons and Daughters of Adam raced up the hill, Ron falling behind rapidly.
"You do know you can take that off, right?" Harry asked.
"Of course I do!" Ron puffed up.
"Well, bye then mate," and Harry tore up the hill.
By the time Ron finally made it to the small stream everyone else was already enjoying the cool water or racing up trees.
"Hey, Ron!" yelled Harry. "Watch this!" Without warning he jumped from a tree branch into the water below, drenching Ron. Ron glared darkly at his friend. Another splash of water announced Peter's arrival into the water.
"Are you mental?"
"Hey, look over there," Peter pointed to another small hill. On top was a huge bolder. "I bet you can see everything on top of that bolder." Without another word the challenge was on and the three boys raced up the hill leaving the girls alone, splashing water at each other.
( )
Pansy's head shot up. Draco and Edmund followed suit. They heard a faint jingling sound. Maugrim heard it too. He was shaking all over, barking at everyone. A few minutes later they saw the white sledge being pulled by two reindeer. The White Witch stepped out, her dwarf opening up the door just in time.
"Where are the traitors?" she asked pleasantly.
"Tied to those trees, Your Majesty," Maugrim said hastily.
The White Witch walked crisply over to the three trees. She held her wand towards Draco and Edmund.
"Who should I point my wand to first? What about you, my dear?" The witch turned to Pansy.
"I will tell you who I will not turn my wand to," she said kindly. "I will not point my wand to the one who tells me where Aslan is. My wolves lost their trail after the river." She glared evilly at Maugrim.
"So, one of you, tell me now!"
( )
Harry and Peter were neck to neck. They both pushed themselves to go faster, but neither could gain on the other. Ron was in last place, far behind, his chainmail clunking with each step.
Suddenly Peter tripped and Harry gained the lead. Moments later he heard Harry yell, "I'm King of the Rock!" Rolling his eyes he got up, Ron finally falling down in exhaustion feet away.
"Man, you guys should see this," shouted Harry. "It's an amazing view. You can see for miles, well at least as far as the valley is. The hill we climbed earlier is blocking the rest of the view."
"Um, Peter?" Harry asked.
"What do you want?" Peter answered, a little defensively.
"Do girls usually climb trees and scream while looking terrified?"
"No. Why would Susan climb a tree?" Peter asked.
"Wolves!" Harry shouted, jumping off the boulder and sprinting towards the stream.
Peter took off leaving Ron alone, trying to get up.
As Harry ran past, Ron muttered, "Bloody hell."
Peter got there first. He instantly stopped. A wolf was looking directly at him. The other was pawing at the tree the girls had climbed up. Susan's legs weren't high enough and she had to keep moving to escape the claws.
"Well well, if it isn't a Son of Adam. You look just as funny as they say."
"G-go away. Leave the girls alone," Peter shakily commanded.
"Likely," grinned the wolf.
Peter took out his sword, his arm suddenly feeling weak and unprepared.
"You didn't use it once, you can't use it now."
"I was a little busy trying to help someone cross the river," Peter hissed back, fear building up.
"You'll always have an excuse. You'll always be a coward!" With that, the wolf jumped towards Peter.
"Peter!" screamed Susan and Lucy.
Harry and Ron saw Peter fall backwards, the mass of grey fur sprawled over him. The grey fur started to arise. The girls gasped, Susan covering her mouth.
"No, please, no," Susan whispered.
Then the grey fur fell limp to the ground next to Peter. Peter was sitting up, his face in shock, holding the bloodied sword.
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