An: So… yeah… it's been forever… And what better time to resurrect the story than Christmas?
Anyway – I wish you all well for the Holiday and enjoy reading! The chapter was betaed by youngandobsessed – thank you so much, dear!
Chapter 15
Kurt stood frozen to the ground, and only after a while did he realize that Pavarotti had been nibbling on his ear to get his attention. He looked at the bird, blinking, as if waking from a dream.
"Are you just going to stand there and do nothing?" the canary asked and Kurt could tell that Pavarotti didn't mean only this moment. This bird was starting to make him feel really uneasy.
Ingolf growled. "I should go back. I wouldn't want my pack to question what we were talking about for so long. Please, take my concerns seriously – who knows if the humans didn't use some kind of magic on you?"
The witchling nodded slowly, both looked at each other, not sure how to say goodbye. Kurt would have loved to just abandon the etiquette and pet the wolf's head, to feel the calm warmth of the bluish fur, but he buried that need deep inside him. Ingolf was no longer a pup and could be offended.
"Take care of yourself, my prince," the wolf continued when they turned to walk back toward the group. "I wish I could just take you from here, but the queen has been in a really foul mood recently and most of the guards think it's your fault."
Just as Kurt suspected; He was befriending the enemy and even – unknowingly – helped him to call Aslan to Narnia. At this point probably only those two humans' heads on a platter would soothe his mother. Kurt cared very little for Sebastian, but...
Blaine noticed the witchling coming back and sent him a comforting smile. Kurt found himself instantly returning it.
Ingolf joined the pack and gazed for a moment at his prince, uneasy to leave him in the midst of their enemies. He didn't have any more time for that, however, as the Narnians parted for the pack to leave. As the other wolves waited, Ingolf took the lead and guided the pack from the camp. The Narnians waited gathered together for a while longer, but when it became clear that the pack was not going to come back and attack, they began to disperse back to their earlier tasks and positions. Kurt saw Blaine hurrying in his direction only to be stopped by Puck. They both engaged in a heated conversation that clearly was about Kurt as they both kept shooting brief glances at him.
Are they discussing my fate now? Kurt thought. Should I start thinking of how to free myself so I can be ready to run away? As hard as he tried to stay calm so he could astutely assess his options, something deep inside him started to crack - small, annoying fracture within the ice walls surrounding his calculating mind. I don't want to die. I want to be safe. I don't want to feel threatened all the time. I don't want to be hated all the time.
A delicate chirping next to his ear brought him back from his thoughts.
"You can't just stay in the camp as you are. He should really decide what to do with you..." Pavarotti chirped.
Kurt curled his fingers into tight fists. "Who? Blaine? The centaur?"
"Aslan, of course," the bird replied. "Would you like to see him?"
Kurt slowly turned his head to stare at the canary, his face horror-stricken and drained of all colour. The witchling half-hoped that Pavarotti was only joking, that maybe he could have more time before the legendary Lion would fancy himself a djinn-meat meal.
"Of c... of course I don't want to see him!" He choked out, realizing that the bird had been serious.
"Are you sure? He always knows the right thing to do."
Kurt groaned. "I already know that killing me is 'the right thing to do' for you all." He wanted so much to just swat the stupid bird off his shoulder...
"You don't know that! I think meeting with Aslan would help you to drop that pessimistic attitude, young djinn!" Pav pouted – something that could be quite a feat if you had only a tiny beak at your disposal to do so – and jumped, flapping his wings to take off.
The witchling flinched and lifted his tied hands as if to catch the bird, but the yellow dot was quick to fly away, leaving him alone. Kurt counted from ten backwards to settle the anger surging through him and looked around, searching for Blaine. It didn't take long – the curly-haired boy stood nearby discussing something with a couple of beavers. The witchling took a step toward him, but was stopped by a rough hand yanking him back. He spun around and was faced with the sight of Sebastian.
"I don't like you," the tall boy said quickly.
The witchling smiled maliciously to cover his distress. "Great. I don't like you either."
"I don't like that you are leading Blaine on and feeding him your lies just to use it later to destroy him."
"And I don't like that you're leering at him as if he was yours. How long have you been harbouring those creepy feelings toward him?"
Sebastian narrowed his green eyes. "You must think you're really smart and observant, but you aren't the only one. Did you think I wouldn't notice how you concealed your hand in Maugrim's death from your mother's servants? You don't want them to think you are a little traitor, don't you?"
The human boy smirked as Kurt's silence confirmed his suspicions.
"How nice it must be to know that you'll have a nice, soft seat waiting for you in Jadis' castle after you're done here..."
"Don't you dare taunt me like you know everything!" Kurt barked. "Gods, if I didn't know how much it would upset Blaine I would find a way to your tent at night and stab your-"
Sebastian's hand bolted to his sword as if he had been planning to do so all along. "Glad to know I have a legitimate reason to take you down right now!"
He managed only to draw his blade a few inches, because a yellow streak cut between him and Kurt and a canary landed on his hand. Sebastian froze, even though Pavarotti completely ignored him, looking at the witchling.
"Aslan requests to see you," the bird tweeted. Kurt's eyes widened in fear.
Sebastian was quick to notice and his good mood returned. "We shouldn't keep him waiting now, should we?" he said with a syrupy smile. "Let me escort you there immediately, so you don't get lost on your way there."
"On your way where?"
They'd missed that Blaine had finished his conversation and came back to take care of Kurt. The witchling saw his chance and pleadingly looked at the curly-haired boy.
"Aslan summoned me... and I don't know why," he began, hoping that Blaine would understand and take him back to the tent instead.
However, the shorter boy seemed to actually like Pav's idea, because he beamed at the group. "Excellent! Let me go with you all."
Kurt shot him a peeved glare to which Blaine responded with a pat on the arm.
"Hey... Everything will be alright. Aslan agreed before to keep you into the camp – I'm sure he's not going to harm you."
The witchling didn't share his optimism.
They stood waiting in front of Aslan's tent, the fabric covering the entrance flopping steadily in the sea wind.
Blaine finally noticed Kurt's ashen face, but interpreted it incorrectly.
"Are you okay, Kurt? Did that wolf say something that upset you?"
The witchling glared at him, wanting to berate the boy for agreeing to his meeting with Aslan, but Blaine's honest and caring face stopped any rude words from escaping Kurt's mouth.
"I'm great, Blaine. Ingolf was just surprised how you got me into spending a night in a dirty tent since I hate camping trips," he teased instead.
"It should be good news for you then that you won't be staying there too long," Sebastian cut in, resting his hand meaningfully on the hilt of his sword.
"Sebastian!" Blaine looked sharply at his friend and then softly touched Kurt's arm. "He doesn't mean that, Kurt. No one is going to hurt-"
"How do you know that? Unless you plan to literally shadow me all the time, your orders don't really protect me. You might be a king-to-be, but it's only a title!" Kurt said bitingly. The same way I am a Prince, but only Ingolf seems to respect it, he added in his thoughts.
The witchling regretted his words as soon as he felt Blaine's comforting hand retreat. He didn't have time to say anything more though, as the royal tent's fabric rippled and was pushed out of the way as Aslan appeared.
Kurt instantly forgot about Blaine and Sebastian standing next to him, he felt as if he was being speared by the golden eyes of the giant lion. Aslan hadn't said a word yet, but Kurt was already trembling inside, his guard completely up to protect his mind from that gaze.
"I won't need you for this, future Kings of Narnia," Aslan spoke quietly. Kurt caught sight of the sharp teeth in the lion's mouth then and started preparing himself that these were going to be his last moments.
He turned his head to look one last time at Blaine. The curly-haired boy bowed deeply to Aslan and walked away. He smiled encouragingly at Kurt before leaving, but the witchling didn't feel much better because of it.
"Son of Jadis..." Aslan got Kurt's attention once again. "Djinn child, you can come closer."
The witchling took a small step forward. Aslan let out a light growl that resembled a chuckle.
"I won't eat or harm you," The lion declared and moved closer himself. Kurt could feel the breeze of Aslan's exhaled breath.
"Pavarotti told me you are troubled."
Kurt choked on a laugh. He was troubled, indeed. His biggest trouble was currently in front of him.
"It doesn't have to be so difficult for you, djinn child. If I wanted you gone from my camp you would be gone by now. Therefore, it means your presence here is something I have allowed."
Kurt glanced quickly at Aslan's eyes. They had even deeper golden colour than Blaine's, but there was a strange resemblance between the two pairs of eyes.
The witchling wanted to say something witty and sarcastic, but couldn't utter a word.
Aslan didn't mind being the only one talking.
"I'd like to thank you personally for healing Blaine's injury, having one of their leaders handicapped would negatively influence the Narnian's morale and it seems your magic didn't have any bad effect on him."
"I- I didn't curse him!" Kurt defended himself. "I know it looks suspicious, healing an enemy, but-"
"I didn't say you tried to do anything to hurt him, I'm merely expressing my gratitude."
Kurt hadn't expected that. Was he supposed to say 'you're welcome' now?
"I only did it because the injury was caused by me. I wanted to be fair."
Aslan's eyes flickered and it bore a resemblance to how Ingolf's eyes would flash when the wolf had been amused by Kurt's antics.
"Why are you adamant on lessening the worth of your actions, djinn child? There was no need for anything to be 'fair' between you two. Even if he was injured by accident you would still use your power to lessen his pain."
Kurt glared. "Don't say this like you know me... And don't call me 'child' when I'm not one anymore, certainly not yours-"
The Aslan's deep roar made Kurt's heart stop for an instant in fear. The ground below him trembled and the witchling fell down since he couldn't control his balance well with his hands tied. When he looked up Aslan was already above him, his silhouette dark with sun light encompassing him from behind.
"Everyone here in Narnia is my child as I was the one who created this land from nothingness."
Kurt gulped. Every cell in his body was screaming to run, hide or at least to grovel in front of this omnipotent creature, but he had inherited his mother arrogance.
"My mother is not from this world. Neither is my father."
Aslan nodded as if Kurt's circumstances were known to him. "No matter which world you were born in, you would still be my child, even if we were to never meet. Moreover, you were still conceived and born in Narnia and as you should protect this land, you should also be given protection."
Kurt felt a shameful blush creeping up his neck, yet again Aslan had made a peaceful declaration toward him instead of attack. The witchling didn't know how he was supposed to react to that.
"So I am not to die? I'm going to warn you that my mother won't care if you make a war hostage of me."
"That wasn't my intention." Aslan replied,
" You are not surprised by Jadis' indifference toward me." Kurt couldn't help but realize.
"I know ice djinns' nature."
"Really?"
"Enough to know that it's not yours."
"But I am an ice djinn." Kurt opposed hesitantly, his mind wondering how he would welcome the news if he wasn't one.
"You also had a father that didn't leave as soon as you were born, as most parents of ice djinns would have."
"So you are saying that while I was born an ice djinn my father influenced me enough to what? To feel sorry for every injured idiot I find? That fatherly hugs made me different from other ice djinns?" Kurt forgot his fear of Aslan for a moment. "They didn't. I still can use ice djinn magic and the only person I care about received my help because of very selfish reasons."
The lion's mouth widened in a strange smile. "You both are so selfish, yet selfless."
Kurt frowned. "Did you mean 'Blaine' by both? What did he say about me?"
"That he wishes to save you. Along with saving Narnia."
Kurt laughed degradingly. "Idealistic idiot. He can't do this."
"Why not?"
"Because it's already been attempted!" Kurt gripped the grass blades tightly, crushing them between his fingers. "R- Someone already tried to sever my connection to my bloodline, but one disagreement and... all of that is always bound to end tragically."
"I already know Rory was a frequent visitor in Jadis' castle." Aslan said. "You don't need to hide his name and the truth about all of this. From what I understand he is still alive and, being s friend of the future king, he can count on help from him."
"I didn't mean that situation." The witchling discarded the crushed bundle of grass and rested his palms on the ground, it seemed to pulse from all the new energy gathered from the spring's arrival. "Rory was really just a middle man." Kurt suddenly looked at Aslan straight. "You know who my father is?"
Aslan nodded and his face contorted into great sadness as the lion closed his eyes. "I know. I wish history would have taken a different turn back then..."
"There are some who are just born to be traitors." Kurt winced. "Betraying even as retribution. And failing without being able to fix everything."
Aslan lowered himself onto the grass to be on the same eye level as Kurt. "How did he meet his end?"
Five years earlier...
"Where are we going dad?"
Kurt didn't like the way his dad was pulling him through the corridor. It hurt and was tearing the sleeve of his new gown.
"I don't want to... daaaad!"
"Hush!" The dark-haired man hissed and walked faster dragging the boy with him.
Kurt looked at the man's eyes. The bright blue-green colouring was the only thing the witchling had inherited from his father.
"Where are we going? It's the middle of the night. Mother said I need to get some sleep before tomorrow."
"We are going for a trip," The man failed at making it sound exciting. "Just us – guys, so your mother can't know about it."
Strangely, they didn't meet any guards or servants on their way, it was as if the whole castle was in a deep asleep.
Kurt's father opened a small door for servants leading to the gardens. A rustle came from the shadows and two foxes jumped in front of the pair.
While the young djinn gasped, surprised, his father wasn't startled.
"Did you have any problems on your way Rory?"
The bigger fox shook his head. "There was a suspicious looking snake on our path, but Sugar dealt with it swiftly." He looked proudly at the other fox.
Kurt knew what 'dealt with' meant.
"Is the castle under attack, dad?" He asked, eyes wide and terrified.
"No, Kurt, everything's fine." The man sighed and spoke again to Rory. "You know the back-up plan, right? You take Kurt and-"
"But your highness!" The female fox whined. "We agreed that you have to escape as well!"
"That's enough!" Kurt shouted at Aslan. "Get out of my head! I am not going to fall for your tricks!"
The lion looked at the witchling with curiosity.
"I didn't do anything, child."
Kurt glared at the lion and his eyes started to fill with a cold glow. "I am just a 'child' to you now then? No matter what my fath...- anyone - is saying I am a djinn." Kurt tensed his hands as he tried to snap the rope around his wrists. The rope cut into his skin, but the witchling didn't feel any pain from it. He felt euphoric, the power travelling along the skin of his forearms – tingling, angry. "And I'm not. Afraid. Of. You!" With the last tug Kurt cried in a sudden pain as the tingling zapped him like a lightning. He felt his hair standing up, electrified.
He looked at his hands. They were covered with frost, but they were also free now – the scraps of the rope had fallen frozen to the ground.
"I did magic... without the vessel?" The witchling couldn't believe his eyes. "I didn't know I could do this..."
"You can't," Aslan interrupted his marvelling. "It's just trying to tempt you."
"Who?" Kurt asked, barely paying attention. He felt so, so powerful.
"Your djinn blood."
The witchling felt it made sense. The magic was swirling enticingly at his fingertips, almost begging him to use it. Why now?
"It never did before."
"You were never so close to rejecting it before."
Kurt chuckled – Aslan was ridiculous. Why would he ever abandon this feeling? Is this how the adult djinns always felt? Is this how his mother felt the whole time? He could certainly understand her hunger for power now.
Aslan shook his head slowly. "I was under the impression you were stronger than this, child."
"I am strong," Kurt argued with a confident smile.
The lion's eyebrows shot up. "Is this how you want to look for Blaine?"
Kurt hesitated, but the power surged through him once again.
"Yes! I want him to adore me with fear."
However, his mind produced a different image for him – the curly-haired boy frowning with worry. Kurt doubled as the power tried to give him even more of his magic, veiling over his memory of Blaine.
Then, a pain attacked his left thigh. The faint tissue of the scar was struggling against the frosty magic travelling through it. With a painful wince Kurt shifted to support his weight with his right leg.
"Any more of that and your body will not withstand this temptation. Let me help you, child," Aslan offered.
"No, no, no!" Kurt clasped his palms over his ears. "Every time someone tries to make me deny my nature it always ends badly!" His face crumpled for a moment. "It will happen all over again..."
Before Aslan could respond, they both heard the Narnians arrive, alerted by Kurt's shouting. The witchling sensed that Blaine inevitably would be among them, he would definitely be frightened by Kurt's current appearance – frosted skin and hair - and despite what Kurt had said earlier, he couldn't let Blaine see him now.
He glanced fleetingly at Aslan, who surprisingly hadn't readied himself to pounce at him.
"Child... it can be stopped."
Kurt's face contorted from his inner battle. "I... I want-"
However, his djinn side felt too threatened by the incoming group and with a last intake of breath Kurt sprinted away, running down the hill opposite of the camp – toward the north.
Aslan sighed in disappointment and then turned to face the arriving group.
"What happened? Where is he?" Puck growled.
"He ran to the north-east, into the Owlwood," Aslan answered calmly. "He probably thought he would have a chance hiding in the forest."
Puck laughed viciously. "He thought wrong then." He waved to the others. "Let's go. Don't kill him, but we better tie him with something stronger!"
"Just don't hurt him!" Blaine reminded them. He was clearly upset, he was expecting for things to get better once Kurt talked to Aslan.
"Blaine..." The lion stopped Blaine while the others rushed toward the forest.
The boy turned around, sighing with impatience, but did not dare defy Aslan.
"Kurt ran toward north – his djinn blood drove him back to the palace. You should be able to catch to him easily, he is not in the best shape at present."
Blaine's eyes widened. "But you told the others-" He shook his head. "Nevermind... Thank you."
"One more thing." Aslan's voice deterred him again. "He is not himself at the moment. If he attacks you with all of his power you'll need to choose between fighting or running away from him. We need you alive."
Blaine nodded quickly and ran north.
The grass suddenly was stabbing at Kurt's feet, even through the soles of his shoes. The sun irritated his skin and the flowery fragrances made him cough. His body moved like a puppet on a string - erratically, brokenly.
While running down the hill he cared more for speed than cautiousness. One missed step and he tumbled, his left leg unable to balance his weight. He rolled down the slope and pain pierced him every time his wound hit the ground. When he finally rolled to the bottom of the hill he had to shake his head to clear his mind.
Why are you even running? You are not welcomed at the castle anymore, said a voice in his head.
You just need to prove you are strong and loyal, the power whispered.
"How do I do that?" Kurt asked aloud.
"Kurt! Thank God!" He heard instead of an answer. Blaine jogged down the hill. Kurt was surprised he was alone, but his body instantly used that fact to his advantage. He surged forward toward the breathless Blaine with the speed of a serpent.
"Kurt, wha-" Before Blaine could say anything more the witchling jumped at him and pushed him to the ground. Blaine's back hit the ground heavily and Kurt landed on top of him, his weight compressing the boy's stomach.
"Hello, cutie," Kurt smiled wickedly as Blaine grunted in pain and took in the witchling's eerie appearance.
"Kurt? What happened to you?"
Kurt sat comfortably on the body underneath him.
"Everything's great. And it will be even better after I deliver you to the queen."
"What are you talking about?"
Kurt leaned toward Blaine's face. "You thought I was just going to hop onto your side that easily, just cause you're easy to look at?"
The boy shook his head, frowning. "This isn't you talking Kurt. We can get through this, just-"
Kurt interrupted him with a loud laugh. "Such a coward - you'd do anything to avoid fighting."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't be able to," Kurt quickly shot his hand at Blaine's sword.
With his first movement he unsheathed the weapon – with the next he slammed the blade into the ground inches from Blaine's head. Then, before the boy could react he angled the fixed blade to rest on Blaine's neck.
"you are really bad at this, but don't blame yourself – you are only human," Kurt's smile widened unnaturally.
"Are you... Are you going to kill me?"
"Perhaps... Or perhaps I could take you to the queen, to the palace."
"You wouldn't-"
Blaine yelped as Kurt grabbed his jaw strongly while his other hand gripped the handle of the sword, its blade uncomfortably grazing the boy's neck. The witchling's fingers were painfully cold and Blaine could hear the cracking of the frost spreading over his face.
"I wonder if I would have enough power to just freeze your body like this," Kurt wondered aloud.
"Kurt, please..."
"You believed me so easily..." Kurt continued his musing. "No second guessing, no suspicion... Are all humans in the end so gullible? Or was Jadis as lucky with my father as I was with you?"
"Your... father?" Blaine tried to focus on what Kurt was rambling about.
"She swayed him so easily, the second time even after he had learnt about her true nature. She made him a traitor – should I make you a traitor as well?" Kurt's eyes bore into Blaine's, but his usual playful curiosity was replaced by a cold, calculative inquisitiveness.
"I think... that's my decision if I would betray anyone or not," Blaine quipped.
"Really?" Kurt smiled. "So far you were doing everything you could so we could be together. I could give that to you. I could give you anything..." The witchling slid down Blaine's body. Observing Blaine's face he gyrated slightly his hips and with a triumph he noticed that the boy shifted uncomfortably underneath him.
"I don't even need to convince you that much," He mocked the shorter boy as his hand cupped his jaw, he let go of it and shifted to rest on Blaine's chest, its expanse moving up and down with every breath.
Kurt closed his eyes. "So warm... I remember Father's was the same..."
Blaine swallowed. The Kurt above him was almost an entirely different creature, but at that moment the expression on the witchling's face went back to his vulnerable self.
"Kurt, this warmth already belongs to you..." Blaine said trying to find in Kurt's eyes a glimpse of something – recognition, coming back to his senses... "It's me that wants to offer you everything."
He reached to Kurt's cheek and despite the sting of the frost, he cupped his shimmery face.
"Take back your hand or I'll cut your head off!" Kurt quickly threatened.
Not retracting his hand Blaine made an attempt to lift himself on his elbows. The sword still cut into his skin, but moved up, alongside him.
"Did Aslan say anything mean to you?" He asked. Kurt laughed at his sincerity.
"He thinks he knows me better than I know myself. Thinks that I could be something I'm not."
"And this is what you are?"
Kurt knew Blaine meant his current appearance and behaviour.
"What do I look like?" He asked suddenly, curious.
Blaine trailed his eyes around Kurt's face, neck, arms... The witchling felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold that was possessing his body.
"You look like your skin is covered with ice crystals... Your eyes are glowing..."
"Does it look good?"
Blaine hesitated. "You are beautiful, but... I preferred when I could touch you without getting frostbite," He admitted, his eyes apologising.
Kurt frowned. "I heard when I was little that my father would have blue arms from holding me. He still would hold me, though, and later I learned to keep the cold inside."
The witchling shook his head quickly. "I know what you are doing – you and Aslan. You are trying to somehow prove that I am better than what you see, but guess what!" Kurt leaned forward again, though he did let go of the sword hilt. "No matter how you or my dad would try I won't miraculously be human instead of a djinn. There is no goodness or... compassion or whatever in my heart – is that clear?"
"...okay," Blaine whispered, trying to put together the puzzle from Kurt's erratic speech. "But there is still something in you. Something that makes you care for me, Rory, even that wolf earlier – I saw how genuinely happy you were to see him. And you have this longing look whenever you mention your dad-"
Blaine stopped, seeing Kurt inhale violently.
"It's not a longing – it's regret. I... He's dead because he tried take me away from my mother, my kin... Because he desperately tried to see me as human."
"Why human? Kurt... Your dad... who was he?"
The man smiled sadly at the female fox and her words. "Please don't call me 'your highness' anymore – especially according to the last prophecy it will become someone else's job."
"We also agreed that the prophecy doesn't matter, Edmund!" Rory pleaded. "But we need you to organize us until the new humans arrive - and lead if they never do."
Edmund chuckled darkly. "I have no idea why. At least half of the resistance is better at fighting than I am."
"Is that why we are taking the djinn as well? He is indeed already good at fighting."
"Use his name when you speak about my son," Edmund corrected sternly. "I'm taking him, because, frankly, he's the single thing that went right during my stay at the castle. Jadis is more and more adamant on teaching him dark djinn magic and I won't allow her to corrupt him any longer."
Kurt couldn't believe what he was hearing. Resistance? Fighting? Going against his mother?
"Dad, what's going on? Are these the Narnian traitors? We should get the guards to capture them!"
Rory hissed at the boy. "Edmund, he's already corrupted. You shouldn't concern yourself with him – we all know Jadis only used you to create a kin, her ally, to control Narnia even further."
Edmund squeezed Kurt's hand. "I was there with him while he was growing up and despite the lack of blood connection we still developed a father-son relationship. If one's character is a part of the person then he is at least part human, if only because of my role in his life!"
Sugar was the first to speak and her words astonished both Rory and Kurt. "If Edmund says that this boy is his son then I have no choice but to protect him with my life, as you should too, Rory."
It was hard to guess if the female fox spoke with honesty and conviction, but Rory nodded at her words.
Edmund's eyes glazed with tears. "I don't deserve such loyalty. But I'll take it as we have to move quickly."
Kurt jogged as he was pulled through the garden, the moonlit shadows of the stone creatures creeping toward them. He tried to make his father let him go, but the man only held him tighter, as if knowing that the boy was not going to just go with them of his own free will.
"Dad, let's go back!" Kurt begged.
"Kurt, this is for the best. I noticed how you didn't like hurting these prisoners that Jadis orders you to change into stone."
"Then I'll do my best to change and be obedient! Please! If we try to leave mother will be angry!"
"Kurt..." Edmund halted and put his hands on the boy's shoulders. "I don't want you to listen to her!"
The witchling watched his father's determined face with confusion. It was strange to observe Edmund all these years. When Kurt had been little his dad would just play with him when Mother wasn't around, but as soon as she would come into to the room he would become indifferent. Later the man would become more and more involved into Kurt's life and would offer his opinion more often as if he was waking up from a long dream.
And now he – a powerless human – went against the most powerful ice djinn in Narnia.
"Edmund!" Rory hissed. "We need to move. You can talk later."
"Of course. Kurt – don't let go of my hand." Edmund squeezed Kurt's hand warmly and ushered him to move.
His father's hand was warm, unlike Jadis'. Kurt longed for that heat and squeezed back, wondering what it would be like if the air around him felt as warm as his hand instead of the chilling winter one...
They reached a turn around the castle walls when Sugar suddenly stopped and tensed, preparing for the leap.
Before she could move, though, a light shone onto her and her rich orange fur turned to grey stone.
Kurt gasped, seeing the familiar spell at work for the first time so close to him. Edmund gripped Kurt's hands so hard that the boy knew he would have bruises from it.
Rory rushed toward the petrified Sugar, but was forced to jump back, mere inches from the sharp pole targeting him.
From behind the corner Jadis showed herself – beautiful and terrible in the faint lighting of the moon. Rory growled at her, but he was clearly terrified, hiding his bushy tail between his legs.
"I noticed your feeling towards me have faded, Edmund," She said. "You still, however, were safe in my castle, so I'm surprised you decided to join this stupid rebellion."
"What really has faded was your spell over me," Edmund protested with a trembling voice.
"So there was never any love in our union?"
"There was love, but directed at a different person."
Jadis looked suddenly at Kurt as if only now noticing the small, lean young djinn. She smiled.
"What is he doing here? Surely these dirty Narnians don't need an untrained ice djinn?"
Edmund shifted, trying to shield his son from the Queen's gaze.
"Or did you tried to just selfishly take him from me - my blood, my ki-"
"Stop that!" The man cried. His face was steadily spasming, all hope leaving him. "You always behave like he is only your child! I now know that you changed me back from stone to human form only to provide you with an heir, but that doesn't change that he is still Kurt, son of Edmund."
Jadis laughed. "You say that as if it was something to be proud of! Son of a traitor king!"
"That still makes him a more valid ruler to Narnia than you!"
Edmund was panting. The impending end that was nearing him just fuelled the little courage he had left. He could hear the quiet steps of guarding wolves surrounding them, but he couldn't care less - he had just used his last chance to declare that he wasn't just a stupid puppet... Edmund felt Kurt plastering himself to his father's side and that alone brought a relief to the man's heart. No one ever had taught him how to be a father, but he hoped he'd done a decent job at it and that even after he was gone Kurt would still have some of their memories saved in his mind, his soul. He wished he could be there when Kurt would free himself from the djinn magic binding him and-
His thoughts faded. His flesh, body, skin hardened.
"Dad!" Kurt cried, feeling his father's warmth disappearing inside the stone.
"I should have done it as soon as I got pregnant," Jadis smirked as she retrieved her wand. Its tip chipped Edmund's arm.
Kurt rubbed the stone figure, barely believing what he had just witnessed.
"Change him back," He asked meekly.
Jadis pretended to not hear his plea.
"Go back to your room, Kurt. I will be starting a rough training regime with you tomorrow."
"Change him back!" The young djinn's voice was more confident now and the Queen heard a powerful undertone in it.
"You can be powerful in the future, Kurt, and to do so you need my help, not some weakling of a father. Believe me – I did you a favour by stopping him from taking you away."
Kurt cast a glance at the stone figure again, his mother's words awakening feelings of guilt in him.
"Will I be able to change others from stone back to their living form?"
Jadis frowned.
"When you become powerful you will see that there is no need for you to do that..."
She stepped toward Edmund. Kurt, seeing her cold, ruthless face wrapped his hands around his father's still arm.
"No... no... please don't..."
The Queen made a small wave and two wolves closed their jaws on Kurt's hips, steering him off Edmund.
"Mother..."
Kurt's word held no meaning to the Queen. She brought up her wand up again and swung it horizontally. The staff hit the stone figure hard, the sculpture tilted with an ominous crack.
For Kurt time slowed down, torturing him with the sight of the figure toppling to the ground, crashing onto the frozen earth.
The boy quickly turned away, but couldn't shield himself from the shuttering sound when the rock hit the ground.
He wasn't sure how he was suddenly back in his room, alone. He felt like his head was empty, except there was something rhythmically hitting him from inside his mind.
Kurt tried to escape into sleep, but he couldn't even close his eyes – they were still wide open in shock.
His distress could be blamed on not noticing that he wasn't actually alone in his room as the heavy, furry creature leapt onto his bed and Kurt opened his mouth, ready to shout.
"Don't you dare!" Rory hissed and the witchling clasped his lips together.
"You can speak, as long as you are quiet," The fox generously allowed, seeing the trembling of the thin line of Kurt's mouth.
"What are you doing here?" The boy breathed out.
"The Queen put a lot of guards out there looking for me, so I decided to hid in the least likely place they would dare to search." Rory looked at Kurt studiously. "I hope you are not going to call for guards?"
Kurt lay down on the bed and turned away from the fox.
"I'm not going to do anything."
He felt the bed dip a bit as Rory moved near him.
"Listen... I'm sorry about your dad. His highn- Edmund was important to me as well. And I lost... I lost Sugar out there and I feel like such a coward for running away and-"
"Stop that right now," Kurt interrupted as he turned back to face the fox. "You can stay here – I honestly don't care about making things easier for my mother – but only if we agree to not talk about this night. Ever."
"Okay," Rory nodded and made himself more comfortable on Kurt's bed – kneading the duvet and curling his tail around himself. Kurt frowned.
"Who said you can sleep on my bed?"
"Your bed is enormous. You could fit a whole family of foxes and a centaur on here and you'd still have plenty of space for yourself."
Kurt sighed and looked up to the ceiling, trying to ignore the annoying creature. He felt its gaze like an itch that couldn't be scratched away.
"You don't have to hold back the tears," Rory spoke again after the uncomfortable silence.
"You are not crying either," Kurt replied, growing more and more upset.
"I'm an adult – besides, Sugar is still in one-" The fox stopped himself remembering their deal.
Kurt bit on his lower lip, thinking.
"Djinns shouldn't cry because of humans," He said finally.
Onto Blaine's cheek dropped a tear. Another one was travelling down Kurt's face, melting the frost on its path.
Next chapter: family affairs