A/N: This chapter is dedicated most appreciatively to MaxRideNut. Thanks so much for everything! You've given me a great springboard.
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It was a typical Narnian autumn rainstorm, and as cool November droplets falling from the eaves pittered gently against the windowpanes, Enna was seated on a hard wooden chair with a large, slightly dusty volume spread out on a scarred scribe's table in the library, perusing it intently. She was twisting a faded crimson pagemark between her scarred fingers, now healed from their blistered burns, and her slapdash plait dangled over her shoulder as she scraped a few escaping curls back from her face and tucked them behind her ear, resting her chin on her hand.
After a while, she became aware of someone watching her. She turned slightly, tilting back on her chair as she looked down an aisle.
"You looking for me?"
Enna started, and went sprawling on the floor as her chair slid out from under her. "Oh!" she exclaimed, staring up at Aramir's soft grey eyes, now looking rather concerned. She took his proffered hand and stumbled to her feet, rubbing at her bruised hip and blushing in embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, really, I didn't mean to startle you," Aramir said, holding out his hands as if afraid she would tip over again. A soft rumble of thunder sounded from outside.
Enna waved him off. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just a bump, that's all." She picked up the chair and set it upright at the table. "Were you watching me?"
"Watching you? No. Observing you, yes."
Enna laughed. "I shan't bore you by exploring the striking similarities between those two terms, my friend."
He smiled in return. "Aye, many thanks."
"What were you observing me for, then?" she asked, brushing her skirts free of dust.
"Wondering what you were reading."
She handed him the volume and continued shaking the dirt off. A silence fell, and she glanced up to see him looking blankly at the gilded cover. "It's a history of Narnia," she said. "I found myself rather curious about it."
"Is it interesting?" Aramir asked, flipping through the pages.
"Oh, aye," Enna replied, taking it back to turn to the spot that the ribbon marked. "Here, it details the great deeds that the four kings and queens did in their youths. I had never heard wind of it from Peter before this. Here, listen—'And thus did the King Peter the Magnificent, Queen Susan the Good, King Edmund the Just, and Queen Lucy the Valiant vanquish the haughty foe and restore peace and justice to the thrones of Narnia.'"
She raised her eyes to his, and he smiled. "Lovely writing."
"Isn't it?" she asked, flipping through the pages. "You ought to read it for yourself."
He came around to look at the words over her shoulder, his hand brushing hers as he tilted the book to see it better. "I'm afraid I can't read."
"You can't?" Enna exclaimed, turning to look at him. "Oh, Aramir, that's simply awful. No one's life is complete until they've read every book they possibly can."
Aramir shrugged, his soft grey eyes on the tome in her hands. "Some might say there are other, more important things in life…"
Enna made a scoffing noise in her throat. "That's rather foolish, in my opinion. Mankind has no purpose in life—the only thing we may do is expand our minds."
A loud crack of thunder made the library windows clatter. Aramir was silent for a few moments, then dropped his hand from where he'd been supporting the book. "You shouldn't say things like that, Enna," he said quietly. "You might just start believing it."
Enna looked up at him, at first unsure of what to say. "Well, what do you think we're here for, then?" she asked finally, unable to keep the challenging tone out of her voice.
He eyed her. "This discussion worked out so well last time we tried, didn't it?"
Enna opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment a she-faun came into the library and bowed low when she caught sight of them. "Lady Enna, there is a man who requests your presence. He awaits you on the Bridge."
Rather grateful for this interruption, Enna curtsied back. "Thank you. I will go to him immediately."
The she-faun nodded and left, and Enna turned to Aramir. "Well, I shall take my leave now."
"Goodbye," he said.
She nodded to him and went out of the cozy library into the hall, where the tall and wide windows stared out at the dark Narnian sky. Flashes of lightning glimmered along the horizon as she hurried along, wondering why in the world the man wanted to meet her on the Bridge, of all places, where the windows had no glass and the wind would be sure to chill their bones.
A few moments passed, and then Enna came upon a man lounging against the wall in the shadow between two windows.
She curtsied, relieved that he had decided to forgo the Bridge. "Hello, I'm Enna Stalresin," she said. "You wished to meet me?"
The man straightened, coming out of the shadows, and Enna fell a few steps back. It was Grigor, with his sly, calculating eyes and thin face, and narrow, bony shoulders that reminded Enna of a waiting buzzard.
She'd recognize her uncle's manservant anywhere.
"Ah, little Miss Enna," Grigor said, smiling and holding out his yellowed hands. "It has been too long…much too long."
Enna stumbled back. "What are you doing here, Grigor?" she asked, trying to sound defiant and failing.
Grigor smiled, showing decaying teeth. "We've missed you somethin' turrible, Miss Enna. Why'd you go and leave us, now?"
Enna did not answer, but fixed Grigor with a rebellious look.
"Yer uncle's gone and worried himself sick o'er you, little Miss," Grigor continued, advancing towards her. "Sent a hun'red ships to a hun'red harbors far as Derforgala and GwenAlarch, he did, in hopes of finding you."
Enna took a step back for every inch Grigor moved towards her, until she was pressed against the wall. "I don't believe you, Grigor, don't lie to me!" Her anxious voice rang out in the hall, echoing up and down.
Grigor smiled. "There, there, little Miss. Why would I lie to you?" He clasped a wrinkled old hand to his bosom. "He's sent a letter out to every prince and king from Galma to the East, asking where you are."
The blood drained rapidly from Enna's head, and she felt her knees grow weak.
"But you needn't worry," he went on in a lower voice, taking her upper arms in a grip that Enna knew only too well could harden into a vise that cracked bones. "Why would I want him to harm you more than he has? Tell me, in all the years I have known you, have I ever willingly put you into harm's way?"
Enna shrank back from his attempted familiarity, the pride born of being a gentleman's daughter rearing up inside her. Of course, she could not think of a specific instance in which Grigor purposefully caused her physical hurt, and she knew that Grigor knew it, as well. She kept her mouth shut.
Grigor smiled again. "I promise, your uncle has absolutely no idea where you are. I shall return to Galma immediately and inform him that you are not in Narnia."
As much as she distrusted Grigor, Enna had known him all her life, and she felt her guard slipping a little. "Really?" she breathed.
"Really," Grigor replied. He dropped his hands from her shoulders and withdrew a scroll of parchment from his pocket, branded by a spot of purple wax and her uncle's seal. "He sent a copy of this missive with each of his messengers, entreating them to deliver it to you if you were found."
Enna took it gingerly. Grigor motioned for her to open it, so she did, slitting the seal with baited breath.
Enna, it read,
I, your father's brother and confidant, was besought by him to care for and love with tenderness his two children. I have done my best to that extent, young Enna, feeding you and clothing you and offering you shelter in the home of your births when I was in full legal right to expel you from it forever.
But how have you repaid me? With insolence, hate, and ill will. I tolerated it while you were young and undisciplined, but now that you are grown, my patience with your antagonism has reached its limit. I know not where you have gone, nor even if you are still alive. But I swear on the grave of the great Gale that I shall find you and bring you back to Galma, where you are to remain, under my supervision and command. I assure you, no matter which course of action you choose to pursue, you will regret ever stepping foot off the island, if it costs me my dying breath.
But if, by some miracle, you have not been disfigured by pirates or hit over the brain with a wayward pulley, I shall perhaps have mercy on you and restore you to a place of honor in the Stalresin household, as my wife. Should you displease me by your spite, however, I shall be most unhappy.
Remember this, Enna, should you think to run yet again from the place where you are.
Your uncle.
Enna looked up from the letter with trembling hands. "I see," she said, forcing a note of cheer into her voice, determined not to let on how absolutely terrified she now was. "How kind of him."
Grigor bowed slightly, and Enna knew that he had no idea what was in the letter. "I shall return to Galma immediately and inform your uncle that you are nowhere near the kingdom of Narnia."
Enna curtsied weakly, and Grigor left, his leering smile lingering in her brain. As soon as he was out of sight around a corner, she took off at a desperate run in the opposite direction, her plait slapping her back and her long skirts wrapping about her legs and getting caught under her feet. Sabsestrin was looking for her! Never in all her nightmares had she imagined this, not this!
She rounded a bend in the corridor at full speed, and ran smack into someone, knocking herself sprawling on the floor, breathing in short, uneven bursts. That someone was Aramir.
And she could tell by the look on his face that he'd heard everything.