Selene

The fields had been freshly sowed, the crops were sere and the trees were hemlock, painted in rue as the winter devoured the vegetation, drying the vines. The time was delicate, the fates of men on the brink of disaster, the walls of houses sundering one after the other as the storms grew fiercer, the winds bolder. And yet, these earthly quandaries that had left most in perplexity had not bothered me. For what my heart sought, what it craved, loved dearly and fiercely was beside me in times bleak and bare, times merry and unhappy; he was always present like a godly figure beside me, our hands linked, and—I blush and burn—bodies intertwined.

I remember tackling him once, sending us flying through the long plants of wheat sown in Western Galma. He'd laughed and laughed and laughed! He'd made me mindlessly titter, as we rolled down the steep hill—it led directly into a glassy lake preserved by the gods even in this winter. And we—oh, yes! we crashed into it. The water was warm and we had played like mere children of half our age, throwing and splashing handfuls of the warm liquid at each other.

The time passed pleasantly, the sun sank soon, and the naked eye could not see but the uncertain outlines of the trees that seemed like hovering phantasms.

We played until the moon rose. And tumultuous footfalls reached us in a whirlwind of seconds. It was my father, esteemed and eccentric, his court described him. My heart shrank and thinned to the size of a leaf, and I screamed as the King's men seized me, some toiling with a furnished carriage. The other men, my father's Guard had seized him, forcing him to kneel humbly before the King he had wronged. Oh, was it that terrible to love?

"No! Father, no!" I had screamed. "Ikàso!"

But in the mere blink of an eye, the sword had penetrated through his flesh, its blade protruding out of him, giving me a mocking glint. He fell. And I stilled. To pen my thoughts would be folly, for such devilish fury had possessed my frame then. But I remained quiet, looking up at my father.

"Daughter?"

"Father." I had nodded. And then without protest, I took my seat in the carriage.

I never wept for him.

Galma was mere hours away, the waves sinking enough to provide us humble travellers of the sea, the perfectly curved hills of Fiemàn, our capital. Spectators gathered around the deck, leaning on the railings as the sun beautifully immersed into the water, cutting into a half-circle, and then disappearing altogether to take the astounding painting back into the artist of the sea. The sun was gone, yet its light remained, glowing in the sky prodigiously.

I shivered as the sea wind fanned my cheeks and brought me to the full extent of my senses again. Yet I never noticed when the quiet and grave Kaios stepped beside me. I was only aware of his presence when he wrapped me in his cloak. I smiled in appreciation. He began the conversation.

"Are you nervous?"

I felt a rush of red in my cheeks, automatically understanding what he meant, his tone was perceptible. "Every woman looks forward to her wedding day, Kaios. All her life."

"Selene, that hardly answers my question."

I smiled, leaning closer to him. "Yes. Yes, I am nervous." I swallowed, looking down at my feet. "Was he—was Ikàso going to ask me to—"

"Yes," Kaios replied promptly. "He loved you."

I looked at the serene sea again, the waves had calmed as the temperature steadily dropped. "Your brother was a fool to love me, Kaios. And asinine to think he could hide it from my father."

"Not a day hath passed that my lips didn't call him a fool."

We laughed in unison, and then, "He still refuses to accept me."

"The King is a bigger fool than Ikàso," he replied. "Aviso thinks we should just slit his throat and invade Narnia when she is at her weakest."

I stared at him. "Do you agree?"

He hesitated. "Sel—"

"You don't approve of him," I said in bewilderment. He opened his mouth again, but I, worried I would throw him into the sea, was already walking away. He grabbed my wrist. "Let me go, Kaios," I said, trying to shake him off.

"Will you please just listen? Selene, I—"

"Your Majesty!" came a cry from our left, the taciturn Col came running to us, his face frantic and ruddy with fear. Fear of me. "The King, your Majesty. He—he—"

"Go on," I prompted calmly.

"H—he jumped into the sea, madam," he stuttered after several moments of heavy breathing.

I and Kaios exchanged one glance in consternation before running after Col—he'd already sprinted back into the direction of his appearance. He ran agitatedly, his perturbed emotions palpable. Presently, we reached the far west edge of the ship, beside the curling flight of stairs that led to the cabins below deck. If I was correct, we were standing just above Peter's cabin. The sea in front of us had turned black, showing just hints of early silver. The sea appeared malign to me, drowning my only means of escape. My love! Oh, Hisella!

The sea was calm, an eldritch appearance written over it. I looked at Kaios. And he, without a moment's hesitation, made a leap into the sea. "Kaios!" I screamed, my hands flailing uselessly in the air, catching nothing but the soughing wind.

I glanced down, he hadn't surfaced yet.

I turned to Col—he was shaking. "Fetch my sister and Aviso. Now!"

He ran. And I clutched to my chest, unaware of the thickening circle of anxious onlookers. I only stared at the sea. We were leaving them behind. "The sails! Bring down the sails, by the Lion!"

I bit my tongue, I hadn't meant to call to the Lion.

Minutes passed. Minutes! And there wasn't the slightest sign of either Peter or Kaios. I felt Fey slip an arm around me. But my heart was still hammering ferociously in my chest. "Who was the guard on duty?" I asked her, my eyes never left the sea.

"Col," she replied.

"Flay him."

They had already descended platforms down, metal chains bound them to the ship. But what was the use? – Oh, when there was no one to save!

"Please," I whispered. And the water suddenly splashed silver. Two heads bobbed out of the water, the waves pushing them towards the ship. "Go! Go!" I screamed at the men.

The moments passed in a frenzy and presently, I was on my knees beside Peter. He was blue and unbreathing. Kaios had been helped into a blanket. He dropped beside the King as well, and I watched him blankly as the Felana rubbed my arm.

He was beginning the compressions our healers had taught us when were mere children.

But I doubted they would work on a corpse.

"He wanted to die," Kaios said, pinching Peter's nose to breathe into his mouth. "Didn't let me bring him to the surface," he continued his tale in fragments as he began the compressions again. "Come on, you royal fool," he said in time with his compressions.

But Peter didn't breathe.

"We should send his body back, as a warning of what is to come," Aviso said.

"You sound like Tromin," said someone from the crowd. "The King is inviting war to our country! Breaking peace and for what?"

"Come on, come on, come on!" Kaios was yelling in the face of the dead King.

"Our King is not a coward like Amir!" Aviso shouted back.

"He murdered his brother!" the voice replied.

"And he rose to power! Unlike you worthless servants that don't know how to behave in the presence of royalty!"

"Come on!" Kaios shouted again.

"Amir was a fool!"

"Come on!"

"Tromin is not a real King!"

"SHUT UP!" my voice rose above the clamour of shouts. Everyone stilled except Kaios. Felana stood and went away. I only watched my King. "He's dead," I declared. "Tvar can fly him to Narnia, or maybe he'll come across their ship. I'm going to go flay Col."

"Come on!" Kaios was still shouting.

"Kaios!" I said. "He's dead."

Exhausted, he leant away from the King's body, still motionless and blue. "His brother will burn this country to ash."

"Send him," I said and stood up.

And just when I turned my back, a cough broke the absolute silence. And I whirled around. "Impossible," was all I whispered when the High King coughed out water from his lungs, the drained colour now returning to his face.

He hadn't even opened his eyes, and as I blinked mine, he was sat against the railing, Kaios's neck in his arms, delicately held, delicately broken. "Don't kill him," I said, slowly stepping towards the flustered King and calm Kaios.

"Stay away!" Peter growled. "Or I swear I'll snap his neck."

"Peter, he saved your life."

"STAY AWAY!"

I froze, everyone else was as still as a statue as well.

"My brother," he said with a gasp. "I want my brother. Now! Edmund!" he yelled, glancing around, searching the faces for his brother. "Ed! Eddie!" Tears fell. "Susan? Susan! No…Please…Lucy! Please! Where are they?" he asked me. "Where are my siblings?"

"Safe," said my sister's voice from behind me. Peter blinked, his grip on Kaios' neck loosening. "They're safe, Peter. In Narnia."

"Please. I just want to go home. I want to go home!"

He released Kaios. Felana stopped him from attacking the King with a silent gesture.

"Let me go home!" he begged as Felana prodded me with an elbow.

"What?"

"You can soothe him," she said.

"I'd much rather just cut his tongue out."

Peter had huddled against the railing, rocking with his knees pressed to his chest like a child, chanting his siblings' names in a cycle. "Please let me go home. Aslan, please."

I turned to Aviso and nodded.

Then I looked at Col, shaking like a frightened cat in one corner. "You," I said, "should come with me."

He was ruddy, pink as a new-born, honeyed ramparts falling, curling like vines around his neck. Aviso had been uncongenial, disagreeing that the King should live, but a lively glare from me—and he'd retreated back to his humble den. With the King made peaceful with Sorontia, I had gladly dragged a whimpering Col to the oarsmen's chambers. He had begged, prayed, whined, screamed, whimpered, and then sucked in his last breath after the torture—he was now a floating piece of Carrion for the coastal birds. After that, I had come here—here and nowhere else.

"Peter?" I whispered to him.

He remained prone.

"You know that I love you," I said, kissing his closed eyes. "When I am, I love you. We're almost there," I said, lying down on the bed beside him.

The landscape of the small island, Galma, was slowly towering above the ship, its lanterns shining through the morning fog. Fiemàn is the capital of Galma, its trade centre, and located in the middle Western Galma. In the next hour, we docked at its harbours.

OOOO

Author's note: Well, how many of you can sympathise with her now?

Oh, and if anyone is interested in a Narnian Geography lesson, visit my bio. It'll help with the coming chapters. :-)

Response to P: Hopefully, this made 'who she is' clearer? Somebody does have to help Peter. But he doesn't know how soon that help will arrive or will it at all...?

With love,
~Pacifia