After Ophelia had trained with Peter and Edmund the whole day, nightfall had come and the sun began to slowly set in the east, as the Narian warriors gathered around various campfires drinking, laughing, telling stories of battle. Ophelia walked along greeting and enchanting the restless Narians, she knew how long they had waited for the prophecy to be fulfilled, their newfound liveliness and hope persuaded her that there was no way they would lose the battle against the White Witch. She gazed off to the east where she could see the frosted woodland hills that had once been alive with fairies and elves. As a child she remembered swinging around the twisted tree trunks, dancing and laughing as the small fairies tugged at her long black curls and elves whispering their sweet songs. Letting out a sigh, Ophelia made her way to the last campfire. After a few seconds of observation she realized Lucy had decided to entertain her people with stories from the world she came from. Smiling, Ophelia made her way to the front and cuddled up against her longtime friend and fellow general Glenstorm. She listened as Lucy spoke of large houses, and toilets and subways and bombs, things that the Narians never dreamed of, yet to Ophelia they seemed familiar. The warrior turned her gaze to the fire, watching the smoke slither into the sky. Her gaze caught another while looking through the flames, she smiled.
Peter returned Ophelia's smile quickly before returning his attention back to his sisters story. He felt her dark blue eyes lingering in his direction as if she was observing his every move, studying his steady breathing, listening to the frantic speed of his pulse. He tried to find the courage to glance back in her direction, instead he looked up. The last hint of sunlight had finally disappeared and the only light in the sky was the silvery fusion of stars and the moon.
"As entertaining as these stories are Lu, I believe it is time for you and I to go to bed." Susan yawned standing up from her spot next to Edmund at the campfire.
"You to Ed." Peter agreed glancing at his brother.
Before Lucy and Edmund could protest Ophelia arose from her spot and spoke, "I think all four of you should go to bed. As well as the rest of us, tomorrow is a big day."
"But Su, I'm not even tried." Lucy exclaimed in protest as his sister dragged them off to their tent.
"Good night." Susan said nodding in Ophelia's direction.
"Farewell my lady I shall see you in the morning." Edmund said with an over dramatized bow, causing Ophelia to let out a hearty laugh.
"Yes your majesty I am already counting the minutes till your return." She called as the boy began to walk away, only turning around once to send her a playful wink. Peter stared at Ophelia with an expression she deemed as disapproving causing her laughter to subside. It seemed as hours passed as he just stood there looking at her with a critical brow, and unreadable expression.
Clearing his throat the king finally spoke. "Goodnight Ophelia." With a small nod he addressed her and swiftly turned around following his siblings to their tent.
Ophelia watched her friends, her leaders, the kings and queens of Narnia, retreating forms making sure they all entered their tents safely. Letting out a graceful yawn Ophelia put out the fire and made her way to her own tent. She could have sworn her bed felt softer than it ever had in her life.
Ophelia's eyes drifted in and out of conciseness as she heard someone yelling in her room. Her face focused in on Edmund who had been shaking her shoulders violently.
Registering his face Ophelia was confused as to why he in her room at such an early hour.
"What troubles you Edmund? " The young boy did not answer, he merely nodded in a different direction.
Looking up she notice Peter standing at the foot of her bed with a grave expression on his face. Her cheeks tinted a slight pink realizing her indecency in front of the High King. She studied his face, something was wrong.
"What is it your majesty? Has something happened?" She asked pulling the covers tightly around her, partly to hid her lack of clothes, and partly in fear of what he might say, but he didn't speak instead he turned his back to her running his hand through his golden locks. Silence filled the room, no one would speak. Ophelia was growing anxious and slightly frustrated. Obviously they had something to tell her, why could they not just spit it out? Ophelia pushed the silky bed covers away letting her small feet touch the ground. She shivered from the cold radiating from the floor. In nothing but her thin white nightgown Ophelia walked towards Peter placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The King turned around to face her, not knowing how she would react, her worried eyes crushed his spirits.
"Aslan is dead." He whispered with a sympathetic look. He could tell Ophelia was very close to the lion, this would hit her the hardest.
"What?" She said jumping back in shock. She glanced over at Edmund who nodded in conformation. Ophelia could not believe it, she would not believe it, impossible.
"You lie!" She hissed, trying to pretend this was not happening, in the back of her mind she knew the kings would never make something like this up. Peter felt the knot in his stomach tighten when Ophelia looked up at him with helpless eyes. He wish he could do anything to make this moment better.
"Ophelia, please, I'm so sorry." Peter spoke reaching out his hand to comfort her. Ophelia immediately slapped his hand away, turning around to face Edmund. He would never lie to her, for some reason she trusted the young boy to tell her the truth more than the other three Pensives.
"Edmund tell me it isn't true, he lies..." She cried feeling the tears well up in her eyes, as she placed her hands on the young boys shoulders.
"He's gone." He managed to whisper before hugging Ophelia tightly. Horrified Ophelia, placed her chin on his head and rubbed his back in attempt to comfort him. She looked at Peter whose gaze fell to the floor as soon as their eyes met. He was hurt that she would not except his comfort, or his word as the truth. She thought him a liar, but not Edmund. Now he was left alone, without Aslan's guidance, what would he do? Ophelia let out a sigh, slowly letting do of Edmund as she did so. Aslan would want her to be strong for Edmund, for all of the future kings and queens.
"I must change, I shall meet you in your chambers. Call upon Glenstorm and Orieus as well." Ophelia demanded looking Peter dead in the eye. He nodded and bolted out the tent, hesitating for a moment at the exit. Edmund flashed Ophelia a forced smile before following his brother. Ophelia dressed quickly, pulling on her black leggings and cream colored tunic that flowed all the way down to her knees. She buckled the small leather belt around her waist and attached her sword to her side. Ophelia half ran while forcing her boots on as she went out the tent.
"It has been conformed Aslan is dead." Orieus said looking at King Peter with serious eyes. Peter paced the tent thinking of what it is he should do, he knew battle was inevitable. Could he lead the Narian's into battle? He had only trained for a few days, how could he possibly be ready? What if they failed? What if he led them to their deaths? He shuddered at the thought. Interrupting was Ophelia, cursing as she burst through the entrance of the tent.
"Damn us all to hell, what are we to do! Aslan is dead, the White Witch approaches with an enormous army..." Ophelia cried walking into the tent in despair.
"Ophelia have you forgotten, we have the Sons of Adam on our side, we cannot lose!" Orieus replied, the faith in his new king evident in his voice.
Ophelia snorted glancing over at Peter who looked at her with a curious expression.
"You mean him? Ha! He is a child Orieus! He has no experience in battle, he has only trained two days, how on earth is going to lead an army against the most powerful witch of our age!" Ophelia yelled at the centaur. She had known Orieus a long time, he had trained her in the art of sword fighting when she was young on Aslan's orders. He had always been a mentor to her, but at this moment she saw him as a fool. Peter felt the anger rising inside his chest at Ophelia's rude words. She had no faith in him.
"How dare you! Where is your respect for your King? And do not forget you are the same age as he. Do you not have faith in Aslan's will?" Orieus roared back at her.
"Aslan's dead! Do you think he willed that?" Ophelia asked lowering her voice a bit, looking Orieus dead in the eye. The centaur looked away, glancing at Glenstorm hoping Ophelia's life long friend would interrupt.
"Ophelia please see reason." Glenstorm practically whispered from the corner where he had been standing next to Edmund. Ophelia wheeled around, her black curls cutting through the air before landing on her back once more. Glenstorm and Ophelia held a strong gaze for what seemed like hours, before a sigh left Ophelia's chest.
"How will we attack?" Ophelia sighed turning around to face Peter. The look on her face was hard as a rock. He would have been intimated if he was not so upset with her.
Peter walked over to the table where the map was, studying it for a few moments.
"Is there cliffs along this valley?" Peter asked looking Orieus.
"Yes my lord. There is a ravine, and at top there are some cliffs."
"And the White Witch approaches from the South, meaning she would be in the valley if we were to be on the ravine. This would give of us the advantage of the cliffs, we would have the archers stationed up here." Peter said pointing at the jagged rocks on the map that represented the cliffs. Orieus smiled at the king.
"Brilliant!" Edmund shouted in approval.
"That is an excellent strategy your majesty!" Glenstorm agreed studying the map.
"Are you serious?" Ophelia intruded, her hands placed on her hips glaring at all the men who stood around the map.
"Is there a problem?" Peter asked looking Ophelia dead in the eye. He had just had about enough of her.
"I have seen this ravine, the witch's army outnumbers our's greatly, they could easily force us back into the cliff's and then what? Where are we to go, they would have the advantage compressing us into a small space!"Ophelia pointed out.
"It is risk we will have to take." Peter spat focusing his attention on the map.
"You are fine with leading the Narians to there death?" Ophelia spat back, taking a step closer to Peter.
"What do you propose we do then?" Peter said crossing his arms defensively around his chest.
Ophelia placed her hands on the map and began pointing out her own plan to everyone. "We should attack from behind, they won't be expecting it. Most of the witch's army has as much brain as a rock, they will never see it coming. I have used this strategy many times in the past and it has never failed me. Glenstorm, I know you can vouch for that."
Peter considered her words for a few moments before shaking his head. "No."
"NO?" Ophelia mocked, demanding and explanation.
"No. The advantage of the archers is to vital to pass up. Besides, you said it yourself the witch's army is enormous, if we attack on an open field, even if from behind, they could easily surround us." Peter answered in an annoyed tone. Orieus, Glenstorm and Edmund nodded in agreement.
Ophelia's cheeks blazed with rage. "Excuse me? Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can just barge in here pushing your own orders into action? You have no experience whatsoever. I am the High General of the Narian army, I know what is best for my soliders!"
Peter could not stand another word from this girl, his fists shook with frustration, it took everything he had not to slap her across the face.
"You will do as I say like it or not." He yelled losing control of his temper. His chest heaved with rage as he met her gaze with just as much anger in as she in his eyes.
"What did you just say to me? I shall not!" She tested, moving closer to Peter, lifting her head up to meet his gaze. She could feel his hot breath on her pale face.
"As future High King of Narnia, I command you to listen to me!" He screamed in her face. Ophelia could not believe the nerve of this young man. He was arrogant, rude, inexperienced, she would not stand for it, but she had to because he was king and because she promised Aslan.
Ophelia was trembling with hate, but also fear. Never had anyone dared to talk to her the way Peter just had. No one had ever raised their voice or looked at her with such menacing eyes. She finally broke the king's gaze and walked out of the tent with no response.
Edmund looked down at his feet not knowing how to address the awkward tension that still lingered in the room. He knew they would need Ophelia to win this battle, she had more skill then anyone else in the army. As if reading his mind, Glenstorm relieved the silence.
"She will come around, just give it a while." The centaur said sending a sympathetic look in Peter and Orieus' direction.
"We don't have a while." Peter spoke before turning his attention back to the battle to come.
Glenstorm forced a smile before leaving the tent to find Ophelia.