Author's Note: Ah, the battle. I loved writing this chapter because (1) Aslan comes back (2) Peter fights the Witch (3) Aceline and Peter make up. I hope you enjoy reading it. If I don't update this week, Happy Early Valentines Day to all of you.
Chapter Thirteen: The Battle and What Happened Before It
As the night rolled on, Aceline had a dream.
No, a nightmare.
Screeches and howls, roars and growls, yells and screams broke through the still, night air. Torches were lit, casting an eerie glow around a stone table. The orange light illuminated the dozens of creatures surrounding it. Standing on top of it was the Witch.
Aceline clucthed her blankets, her hands twisting the material through her fingers...
The Witch held a long knife with a black blade in her hand. Her face was perfectly controlled but her eyes blazed with greed. Her irises stared straight ahead.
Straight at the Lion.
Aslan was walking up the steps that led to the table. His paws made no noise on the stone. Around him, the creatures taunted him.
"Do you want some milk?"
"Not so great are you now?"
"You're about to see who's great."
He made no comment but continued his ascent, dragging the feeling of sadness with him.
Sweat broke out on her body, dampening the sheets...
"Bind him!" Four creatures bound Aslan's legs together. On top of that, they muzzled him.
"Wait," the Witch said. "Let him first be shaved." A dwarf with coarse black hair and beard to match ran forward eagerly. He took his dagger and cut off part of the Lion's mane. He threw it in the air triumphantly.
Second later, or so it seemed, Aslan was lying on the table, Jadis kneeled next to him, running a pale hand through what was left of his mane.
"You know, Aslan," she said, "I expected more from you. Did you actually think by sacrificing yourself you would save that traitor?"
Tears escaped her closed eyes as she realized what was going to happen...
"Understand this: You have given me your life and given me the chance to kill the traitor. There truly is no love in this world." The Witch straightened up, smirking slightly.
"Tonight, the Deep Magic will be appeased!" There were cheers from the creatures. "In that knowledge, despair and die!" Jadis lowered her knife in one fell swoop.
"No!" she yelled, sitting up. But in doing so, she knocked her forehead against someone else's.
"Ow!" she said, rubbing the bruised area. She saw stars for a moment before she focused on the person in front of her.
Edmund.
"Aceline, something terrible has happened!" he said.
"What?" she asked frantically.
"Aslan's dead!" All reason seemed to drop out of the conservation. She scrambled out of bed, grabbing hold of the boy as she slipped her feet into her sandals. As they approached Aslan's tent, Peter came out, taking his position next to Oreius. His face wore a grave expression. He looked straight at his brother as they arrived.
"She's right. He's gone," he said quietly. Aceline cupped her mouth with her hands, tears already flooding her purple eyes. She knew it wasn't like her to cry without warning. She looked down at the ground, ashamed of herself.
But then, she felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders and a pair of lips fall on her head. She looked up to see Peter's blue eyes looking down at her. She choked back a sob and suddenly collasped into his arms. His hand rubbed her back and his lips fell more than once on her head. Aceline looked up from his chest.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"I'm sorry, too," he replied in the same tone. She remembered Aslan's advice.
Do not grieve for me.
She wiped her tears and noticed that Edmund was looking at them, his face registering something close to shock. He quickly looked away when he saw that she was watching him. She pulled away from Peter, her cries quieting. He rubbed her back in a soothing manner. She smiled thankfully at him.
Then she did something that left her blushing after she realized what she had done.
She kissed him.
The color rose in her cheeks and she found herself staring at the ground again.
"What-What are your orders, Sire?" Oreius asked. She looked over at the Centaur. He seemed a bit lost for words. She glanced at Peter out of the corner of her eye. He was flushed as well but he was looking straight at the general.
"We need to put all the swordsmen first. The archers can follow afterwards." Aceline stood between Edmund and Peter. All four of them were staring down at a map of the surrounding area. There were markers that separated the Witch's army from Aslan's. The enemy's was black with a silver wand while the Lion's was gold with a red lion. As she looked down at the drawing, an idea formed in her mind.
"Oreius, do we have any flying creatures?" she asked, looking up at him. He looked back down at her tear-stained face.
"Yes, we do." A smile came on her face. She turned to the brothers, who looked surprised at her sudden mood change.
"We can bomb the Witch's army," she said.
"What?" Peter asked.
"We can bomb the Witch's army," she repeated. Edmund seemed to catch on.
"Just like the Germans did back on London! But we don't have any bombs," he said, looking a bit put out. Aceline shrugged.
"We can use boulders, rocks, anything that can cause them damage." Peter nodded, grinning at the idea. The three turned to Oreius, who didn't have a clue to what was going on. It was obvious that the words 'bomb', 'Germans' and 'London' were as foreign to him as Latin or Greek was to them.
"I shall organize the troops, Your Majesties," he said. "I suggest you get some breakfast before the battle."
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Aceline found that she was the only one following Oreius' suggestion.
They were sitting around the table where Aceline had warned Edmund about eating his toast too quickly. She gulped down her orange juice and looked over at them. The older boy's hands were shaking so badly that he could barely hold his spoon. The younger one was just staring at his plate, his face unnaturally pale. She bit down a sigh as she poured two cups of tea. Peter and Edmund stared at her as she added the sugar. Then she handed each of them a mug.
"Drink it. It'll calm your nerves," she told them as she made one for herself. They obediently drank, looking at her over the rims of their mugs. She, however, looked down as she sipped her own.
"I'm fighting, you know," Aceline said, lowering her cup. "With the swordsmen."
"Aceline," Peter began.
"Peter," she said patiently, "Stop treating me as if I were a little girl. If you haven't noticed, I'm the same age as you and you're leading the battle!"
"I know that!" he said hastily. "I just don't want to see you get hurt." She was unnaturally touched by his good intentions.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'll fight with the archers." Peter looked imensely relieved. He smiled at her and she gave him one back. They finally noticed they were staring at each other too long when Edmund cleared his throat.
"It's time," he said, standing up and walking away. His brother followed suit.
"I'm sorry I'm such a worrier, Aceline," he said, rubbing the back of his head.
"That's alright," she said. "With three younger siblings, you have that right. Oh, and Peter?"
"Yes?" he asked.
"Call me Ace." He grinned at her.
"Alright, Ace."
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"Why does armor have to be so uncomfortable?" Edmund complained.
The three of them were standing outside Aceline's tent, clad in armor. She had tied her long hair back in a knot at the nape of her neck so her helmet would fit on. She smiled gravely at him, touching the sword at her side.
"You'll be thankful when it protects you from getting hurt," she said. He simply shrugged and belted his sword to his waist. She shared a look with Peter. They were both perplexed at Edmund's distant attitude.
"Er...Aceline, Edmund, you should go with the archers," Peter said awkwardly. His brother nodded, clapping him on the back as he passed.
"Be careful, Peter," she whispered, hugging him. This was difficult since she had a quiver of arrows thrown across her back. The boy wrapped his arms around her waist.
"You too," he said.
The next few things that happened she couldn't explain.
She couldn't explain why he kissed her.
She couldn't explain why she blushed.
She couldn't explain why she suddenly felt happy.
She couldn't explain why she nearly skipped her way to the archers.
But what she could explain is that she had a crush on Peter.
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"For Narnia and for Aslan!" she heard Peter yell, his sword in the air. Aceline clutched her bow tightly, wishing the boy the luck. The flying beasts had already attacked, weakening most of the Witch's archers. She gave a shuddering breath as the sound of sword against sword reached her ears.
"He shall be alright," a voice said behind her. She turned around and was surprised to see Reulel looking at her.
"Who will be alright?" she asked casually.
"The Son of Adam you seem to like. Peter, I think his name was," he said, smiling.
"I do not like him," she hissed, her face reddening.
"Yes you do." She turned her back on him, making it clear that she didn't want to pursue the topic. Behind her, she heard him chuckling, "Humans."
A horn sounded in the air.
"That's the signal!" Reulel shouted. "Come on!" She followed him, her armor clanking noisily. They stopped on a small cliff that looked over the field. The soldiers were coming from their left, the Witch's army right behind them. Aceline saw Peter with his sword up at the back of the troops.
"Aim!" She turned her attention to Edmund, who had his sword lifted up, pointing straight at the enemy. She fixed an arrow on her bow, her face paling.
"Fire!" he yelled, lowering his sword. She let go of the arrow and saw it hit a Dwarf in the center of his chest. She could only spare ten seconds of guilt for what she had done when she repeated the movement.
"Stop!" someone bellowed. Aceline looked around wildly and saw Peter looking at Oreius and a Rhino, who were charging straight at the Witch. She realized what was going to happen before it happened. The Rhino went down first, for a reason that she couldn't see. Oreius swung his sword at Jadis, who easily dodged it. She held her wand and quite suddenly, she touched the Centaur's armor.
There was a flash of light and he had been turned to stone, his sword raised to attack.
"No!" she yelled. Out of nowhere, something sharp pierced her left arm. She gasped and looked down at her arm. A crude arrow stuck out of her arm. Biting her lip, she wrenched it out. She threw it down on the ground as another arrow pierced the grass. Aceline looked in the direction from where the second arrow had come from. Her eyes met those of a Dwarf. She remembered him from her dream.
He had been the one who had cut Aslan's mane.
Powered by her memory, she fixed an arrow on her bow. She aimed straight at the Dwarf and released her arrow. She was pleased to hear him gasp as it struck his right leg. She turned back to try and help kill part of the Witch's army when something knocked her down. She looked up and saw a Minotaur towering over her. She dodged his blow as he swung his ax down.
Her arrows were useless by now. They were all bent and her bow had been broken. She unsheathed her sword and battled with the Minotaur.
"Battles aren't for Daughters of Eve," he said mockingly.
"Well, you can't do anything about that," she said. He taunted her until she finally cracked. She swung her sword and his head rolled on the ground. The Minotaur wasn't the last she killed. Despite her anger, guilt filled her as well.
"Edmund!" She whirled around and felt her stomach drop. Edmund was on the ground, clutching his stomach as Jadis threw down the remains of her wand on the ground.
"No!" she yelled. Everything passed by quickly after that. She remembered Peter charging at the Witch and the clang as the swords connected. She remembered no one attacking at her.
But most of all, she remembered the Lion's roar.
Her eyes turned in the direction of the sound. A tear escaped each of her eyes. One was the last of her grief and sorrow. The other was the beginning of her joy and happiness. A smile formed on her face as He appeared.
Aslan stopped on the cliff, shook his mane, opened his mouth and roared.
Like my cliffy? Hate it? Tell me what you think!