CHAPTER 45
Cair Paravel.
Lucy.
Lucy threw her head back and laughed as Mr. Tumnus spun her about, his long scarf trailing around them. Perhaps she shouldn't have taken that honeyed wine from the lovely flute-playing faun.
But she didn't mind the way her nerves were humming pleasantly. For it was a night of celebrations and fun. For Narnia was safe once more.
She laughed again, twirling around on her own until she fell into someone's arms.
Someone she knew.
She smiled up into Faelar's face, only mildly surprised by the flush in his cheeks.
Though he'd not touched any alcohol all night, she knew. She'd been watching.
She laughed and took his hands. "Dance with me."
It wasn't a question. And he would not have said no anyway.
And so they danced, the pretty young queen in her vibrant dress of sky blue, and the northman in his demure greys and whites.
"What do you think of this peace, your Majesty?" he murmured softly in her ear. "Do you think it will last?"
She thought of Edmund and Arianna. About the Ice Queen's sacrifice for Narnia. For her love.
She moved closer to him, boldly. Almost brazen. Though with all the dancing couples, no one seemed to notice. Though she doubted she would care if they had.
She rested her head on his chest, listening to the deep and even sound of his breathing.
"Yes, it will most definitely last."
Was she talking about Arianna and Edmund? Or the peace? Or them, the young queen and the former Ice Queen's right-hand man?
All three, she decide with a content smile as they swayed gently together.
…
Edmund.
He was smiling, she knew he was, despite the fact her head was tucked tightly under his chin as they twirled about the dance floor. It was as if she were flying and neither could she take the smile off her face.
Arianna of Charn laughed as he dipped her backwards, those warm chocolate eyes twinkling merrily. He twirled her outwards once more and she caught her reflection in one of the many tall windows. The Ice Queen and the Dark King. How very fitting.
She laughed once more, sweeping out her white skirts in an elegant curtsey as the song wound to an end. Around them laughter and smiles flowed as easily as the faun's wine.
"Everyone's watching us." Were they waiting for her to try to kill him? For her to slip up?
Her people.
His people.
Their people.
The frost-fae and the northmen among the smiling faces of the dryads and fauns and centaurs.
She had given them a home.
Edmund laughed and pulled her even closer. "Let them watch." And then he kissed her, that blessed warmth spreading through her. To her shock she heard cheering; there was no animosity for the woman who'd once sought to kill their regents. "Come walk with me, Arianna of Charn."
And so they left the ballroom with its glittering lights and silk dresses. The music floated around them as they made their way down the grand stairs that swept into the gardens. The beautiful sprawling gardens that overlooked the sea.
The garden where they'd first met; when he'd pinned her to the tree and take her daggers from her.
The same daggers that were hidden on the inside of her thigh, beneath the lovely dress that the snow-fae had made for her. Eirwen's gift to her.
She wondered idly if any of the snow-fae were dancing, or id the northern dryads had joined the festivities. Of the dwarves she didn't have to worry, for she'd seen most of them drinking themselves under the table on honeyed wine.
Her thoughts were drawn back to Edmund as he drew her down onto one of the stone benches, brushing her hair out of her face lightly.
There was a soft smile on his face, so charming when coupled with the slight tilt of his silver crown. Her fingers itched to push it into place, but she knew it would end up askew not five minutes later. They sat in silence as the sounds of the night flowed over them, as well as the whispered conversations of couples that were hidden from view.
She didn't notice it, not really. Not when she was looking into the dark pools that were his eyes. she was content. She was happy. She could allow herself to feel, when for so long she'd repressed everything.
There was no threat of the witch taking over her mind.
Never again.
"You know, I had thought that the White Witch was going to make me a king," he said softly, startling Ari from her thoughts. "I never thought I'd be the one to make her daughter a true queen."
Ari's mouth popped open, staring at him.
"Please tell me you'll say yes…"
And then she launched herself at him, knocking him off the stone bench in a tangle of white silk and black tunic. "Yes, dear Aslan yes." And then she was kissing him, soft peppering kisses across his jaw and cheeks.
"I don't ever want to lose you." His thumb caressed her cheek, his breath blossoming over her face. And those eyes, those beautiful eyes that she'd seen so long ago, that stared down at her with so much trust. So much love.
"You never will." And then she kissed him, warmth blooming from within her very soul. Like a flower that had finally seen the spring after a long, harsh winter.
…
Peter.
Peter's breath caught as soon as he caught sight of her. For she looked more alive than he'd ever seen her before, dressed in a deep sapphire dress, her pale blue hair let loose down her back. The sparkling pigment around her eyes could never hope to compete with the vibrancy of those ocean blue eyes.
Then she grinned and he knew it was her, despite the dress. Despite the fact that the last time he had seen her, she had been floating to the bottom of an icy pool. Unsure if she was ever to wake again.
"Shoo, little dryad," she waved her fingers at the dryad who had been chattering away in his ear. About how beautiful the Holly Queen Myriel looked in her red gown, or was it about the fae-queen who had been dancing circled around one of the faun's? He couldn't care less as Asura sat on the armrest of his throne. "I have important matters to discuss with the High King."
"Thank Aslan you're here," he said with a light laugh, despite the tightness in his chest. "I've been going mental up here."
Asura raised a dark blue brow. "Don't tell me that High King Peter the Magnificent isn't flirting with the ladies?"
Before Peter could answer, a passing Susan laughed. "He's been moping up there all night. I hope you knock some sense into him."
And then she was off, on the arm of a spritely faun who was complimenting her on the cut of her violet gown.
"Moping?" Asura snorted and Peter couldn't deny that he'd missed the Captain of his Guard. "have all the dryads been trying to coax you into dancing? Peter, imagine how many hearts you're breaking!"
She was joking, he knew, but he squirmed uncontrollably.
Then she sighed, a soft smile on her face. And Peter followed her gaze to where Arianna and Edmund had entered, hand in hand and smiling. "It seems your roles have been reversed. Perhaps we should start calling you the Dark King. For you're the one up here, while Edmund is down there, dancing and having fun. It's a celebration, Peter, what are you doing? Narnia has been saved from both Corradyn and the White Witch." She paused, her brows furrowing. "You're not still worried about Arianna are you?"
Peter shakes his head. No, he could not mistrust the woman who'd sacrificed herself for Narnia, the one who brought such life into his brother's eyes. Aslan trusted her and that was enough for him.
It was something in the back of his mind. Something about a game of hide and seek and Spare Oom.
He banished his thoughts and stood, extending a hand to the naiad. "Will you dance with me Asura?"
Her eyes widened slightly, before she grinned. "About time you asked."
