Thank (or blame) ScribeofHeroes for this one, she semi-suggested it. It's set between chapters four and five of Dance, Dream, Die. It was going to be a Short Snippet, but it got out of hand. I wrote it and it kept me up past my bedtime; I'm hardly going to own such a troublesome story, now am I?
Ferela found Queen Lucy on the beach shortly after dawn. The Wolf had hunted through the night, keeping around one leg the scrap of the Queen's dress that had torn in her mouth the night before—just before the Queen faded into an insubstantial shadow and vanished. Ferela's howl brought all the Narnian guards, scouts, and even citizens running, but by the time they arrived, the Queen was gone. Ferela ran in a search pattern for hours, occasionally nosing the piece of cloth to keep the scent fresh.
And as the sun cleared the sea's horizon, she caught the Queen's scent again, mixed with something painfully cold and sweet. She howled as she ran, faster and faster. Her eyes caught sight of the Queen at last, laying pale on the sand, still in her torn dress, at the end of one of the trails to Cair Paravel.
When Oreius reached the pair, Ferela stood panting, nudging Queen Lucy with her nose, and begging in a raspy voice for her to stand; stand up. Oreius patted the Wolf's head with gentle fingers as he moved it out of the way, and then knelt beside his queen. He glanced at her feet, swallowing when he saw her shoes worn through, her ankles swollen. He picked her up, glancing all around the beach, and turned back to the trail. Ferela followed. As he climbed he whistled a sharp, piercing note. Moments later Robin landed on his shoulder.
"The Queen, the Queen, the Queen!" the Bird mourned.
"Go fetch the Kings. Sir Edmund hunts in the woods by the Festival Lawn, and King Peter is with the Hounds, following the strange cold scent they found last night. Bring them back to Cair Paravel."
"What do I say, I say?"
"The Queen has been found, and will be with the Healers."
Robin took flight at once, and Ferela ran up beside the Centaur's galloping legs. "A cold scent?" she growled.
"Far from the Festival Lawn. A Pup ran crying to his mother, telling her he smelled something of Christmas feasts and winter, and it hurt his nose. The Hounds had never smelled it either, and their Majesties thought it might possibly be related to the Fauns disappearing."
"Can you smell the Queen?"
Oreius slowed, lifting the small form in his arms to his face. "She smells of sand."
"She smells cold, and sweet, like a wind blowing down from the highest sky."
"You are sure?" Ferela yipped, short and sharp, and Oreius lowered Lucy and began moving again. "They followed the scent to the forest, but stopped there once news came of the Queen's disappearance. It was not your fault," Oreius added sharply, as whine broke through the Wolf's lips. "You could not follow nor grasp her. It was mine, for letting her out of Cair Paravel," he added, in a lower tone. "May Aslan not let her pay for that mistake," he added in a prayer.
Queen Susan met them in the courtyard, steps swift but her face pale. Oreius allowed her a moment, briefly lowering her sister down so Susan could touch her forehead, before saying, "The Healers, Your Majesty," and moving on again. He took her through the halls at his swiftest walk, lowering her into the closest empty bed and stepping back as the Healers swarmed the bedsides.
He did not leave the room.
The Healers wrapped her feet and cared for them, checked her temperature, and shook their heads hopelessly at Queen Susan, who had caught up, Ferela at her side. She shut her eyes, three tears falling down her cheeks, before moving to sit in the comfortable brown chair by the bed. Oreius looked back at Queen Lucy's wan face. There was less of fear written there than there had been carved into Onia's, but just as much exhaustion. And she might wake up afraid, if she reacted as the Fauns did. He stayed.
He was there when King Edmund's steps sounded in the hall, quick and sharp, just before he burst in. Oreius saw him stop short in the door, eyes fixed on Lucy's slipper-clad feet.
He moved to the bed, touching Lucy's forehead, stroking her hair behind her ear, before moving wordlessly to Oreius's side. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but paused as Peter's voice came from down the hallway.
"In the room with the other Fauns?"
"I can smell her, Your Majesty," came a Leopard's growl, and Peter entered a moment later, still pulling off his gloves.
"How is she?" he asked, going straight to the bed.
"She hasn't woken up," Susan answered, her voice almost a whisper. She reached out one hand and ran it up and down Lucy's arm.
"Your Majesties," Oreius interposed, as quietly as he was able.
"Tell me you have something, Oreius." Peter turned, eyes steady on the General's face.
"I do not know. Ferela was the first to reach the Queen, and I the second. Other than our own, there were no footprints on the beach."
"Ferela said she vanished last night," Susan remembered, her voice trembling a little. Her hand moved from Lucy's arm to her face, stroking her cheek.
"I believe they are taken by magic, Your Majesties. Also, Ferela said the Queen smelled cold and sweet." He looked to the Wolf, laying by Susan's side.
"Cold and sweet?" Edmund asked sharply. Oreius nodded.
"We send out the Hounds, the Wolves, any Beasts with sharp noses," Peter thought out loud, looking at Edmund and then Orieus to double check. "If the monster kidnaps by magic, it will be much easier to destroy it than to prevent it taking another victim. Particularly since Lucy seemed to want to go."
"She did not want to," Ferela growled. "She held tight, till her entire body went still, and her will went with it. I saw it in the White Queen's most broken servants. They had nothing left but her will."
"So best to destroy the monster, and hope to Aslan that frees the prey. If it smells cold, all the Narnians should go equipped with torches."
"Well thought of, King Edmund. Also, the monster takes them at night and leaves them in the morning—we should have Owls, and any other willing birds, looking for anything out of the ordinary as far as they can tonight."
"I'll take the Beasts; Ed, you take the Birds? Right. Su—"
"I'll stay with Lucy, of course." Susan attempted a smile, but it looked haunted.
"We'll come back as often as we can," Peter promised, his hand reaching out to Lucy's head. "We'll follow the trail till we find whatever makes this cold and sweet scent."
"I'll join you, Your Majesties. Ferela, stay with the Queens?"
Ferela, who had been getting to her feet, turned her head to view the Queens with a slight whine. Oreius frowned, and the Wolf crouched, tail tucked under her. "Come," the Centaur commanded. Once they were in the hall, and the door had been shut, he looked down at the Wolf.
"Waiting is sometimes the hardest part," he said, his voice quiet. "Queen Susan will need someone to wait with her, someone who does not feel obliged to talk all the time, and who she also trusts to keep her safe."
"I did not keep her sister safe," Ferela snarled. "And I have the nose to hunt with!"
"You did what you could with what Aslan gave you. I will not allow that to be your defeat. Go back to the Queens, and keep them safe." Ferela bowed her head. "I need your nose here," Oreius added, and Ferela looked up. "At any time through the day, if the scent gets stronger—see if you can follow it. See if it tells us anything. The Healers say the Fauns' hooves grow more damaged each night, though their bodies do not leave the beds. I want to know when anything else changes. But none of the Healers smell like you do. Stay here, guard the Queens, and use your Aslan-given senses to try to learn more."
Ferela nodded, one sharp, swift nod, and turned to open the door, turning the knob with her teeth. Oreius caught a brief moment of Queen Susan telling Lucy about breakfast that morning before the door closed again, and he took a deep breath.
He followed the trail into the forest throughout that day, losing it often, But they finally caught a break when a Koala told them the scent often went up into the treetops when it vanished on the ground.
They tracked the scent farther and farther, always leaving word of their direction, and Oreius hoped the hunt would end before nightfall.
It didn't. But they were close, so close.
Which is why the message from Ferela hit him so hard. She sent him word that the room had filled briefly with a sweet, cold scent and the faint notes of a pipe, before the scent and sound faded completely.
Oreius knew his Queen was in the hands of the monster once again, and all he could do was continue the hunt.