I'm not particularly happy with this chapter and it gave me a good bit of trouble to write, but here goes anyway. I still don't own Narnia.
Waking in the terribly cold hours before dawn, Susan stared up at the cloudy sky for a long moment, wondering what had disturbed her sleep. She was certain there must have been some sound that had pulled her from the grasp of her dreams, but she could not recall what it was. She sat up after a moment and looked around. The fire had died down to faintly glowing coals-due more to a lack of sufficient dry fuel than a lack of tending-and the small ravine was terribly dark. She blinked, eyes slowly adjusting and focusing on two figures across the embers from her.
Lucy was keeping watch, a dagger in her hands and a hastily constructed bow she had obviously made herself laying across her knees. Edmund was asleep next to her, leaning against the rocky cliff face. Susan had nearly convinced herself that all was well, and perhaps she had merely been woken by the sound of a stone shifting, when Edmund cried out and turned his head restlessly. To Susan's surprise, Lucy did not try to wake him-though she did put a calming hand on his shoulder.
Susan stood stiffly, shuffling around the fire with the intention of shaking Edmund awake, but Lucy shook her head emphatically before she could. "Don't; I tried to once and he nearly crushed my throat before Trebonius dragged him away." She smiled sadly. "Luckily he didn't remember any of it the next morning."
Susan sat down on his other side, and brushed the sweat damp hair back from his face gently. He desperately needs a haircut, she observed silently. He cried out again, face twisting into a grimace of pain. "What does he dream about?" Susan asked quietly.
Lucy was silent for a moment, staring across the dying fire to where Trebonius and Metelus slept while Susan's guards kept silent watch. "You know he hates it when people fuss over him; he wouldn't tell me when I asked him."
"But you found out anyway?" Assuming anything else would be absurd; Lucy was far too adept at discovering secrets, even Edmund's.
"He left out a good bit of his own story earlier." Lucy's grip on the dagger hilt tightened until her knuckles showed white even in the dim light. "The giant who took me away nearly killed him; he hit him in the chest and the force of the blow threw him against a wall."
Susan shuddered at the thought; she remembered how easily Giant Rumblebuffin had crushed his way through the White Witch's forces at Beruna. And the Northern giants are supposed to be even larger and stronger than those we have in Narnia. It was not a pleasant thought.
"The guards were slaughtered as soon as 'proof' of our crime was discovered and the giants took them out of the city to dispose of their bodies." Lucy's voice shook and Susan hated how little she could do to help her. "I don't know if they thought Edmund was dead or not, but they took him out with the rest. When Trebonius and Metelus found him, he was trapped under the corpses of our guards, half dead himself."
Nausea threatened to overwhelm her. Dear Aslan! Looking at her younger brother's face now, she could understand the reason for such a change in him. And yet, somehow despite everything he had kept fighting; had rescued Lucy, refused to leave Peter, and survived for weeks in the frozen mountains. Susan highly doubted she could have done the same.
"I used the cordial to heal his injuries as soon as we were safely away from the city and I realised how badly he was hurt," Lucy was saying quietly. "But it can do nothing to erase memories or ease nightmares. He won't talk to me about them. I only hope he'll talk to Peter when we get him back."
If, thought Susan and instantly scolded herself. Of course we will! We don't have a choice.
The Eastern sky began to brighten, almost imperceptibly, heralding the coming dawn. Edmund was quiet now; whatever nightmare had troubled him having passed at last. Lucy sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, turning her face towards the East to watch the sunrise. Susan smiled, watching her worried, drawn expression change to one of peace as the sun rose.
"I'm glad you're here, Susan," she said quietly. Watching the sunrise with her, Susan nodded; gentle though she was, she too was glad. Glad that she had a chance to make those who harmed her siblings pay for what they had done.
He wasn't exactly a prisoner, but Peter sometimes felt he might as well have been. The Green Lady had initially been terribly suspicious when he awoke the morning after his ill-fated attempt at escape, claiming to remember nothing of the events, but she was far too conceited to question whether he could have broken her enchantment. Nevertheless, she watched him rather more closely after that, making it nearly impossible for him to keep his promise to Edmund.
It had been three days before he had managed to slip away and climb to the battlements, using a silver platter as an improvised mirror to reflect sunlight in a series of flashes. It was a system they had developed for communicating over short distances or when stealth was required; if anyone saw him they might think he was merely taking a walk and would not question him too closely. The main drawback was that if Edmund saw the signals, he would not be able to risk signaling back.
Peter felt rather like a drowning man shouting at a passing ship in the midst of a gale, but he faithfully climbed the battlements every chance he had. Safe. Wait for reinforcements. Stay out. He had early on chosen the wall that faced the mountains as his signal tower and could only hope he wasn't directing his orders in the wrong direction, and that Edmund would not choose to ignore them. Not that Edmund would have much choice regarding staying out of the city; the stable door had been sealed and blocked up with stones the very morning after Edmund and Lucy's escape.
The Lady herself had dropped all pretense of virtue; trusting her enchantment to prevent Peter from lashing out at her as she talked endlessly of the slaughter and havoc she would unleash upon Narnia. Peter found it increasingly difficult, as the days wore on, to smile foolishly in response when she spoke of murdering his people.
Peter's temperament, in contrast to Edmund's, was ill suited to deceit. Peter was the one more suited to leading sieges on cities and charges against armies; taking decisive action against Narnia's enemies. It was Edmund who excelled at working from the shadows, who threw himself so wholeheartedly into any role he was required to play that he often discovered in a week what it might take other spies a month to learn if, by some miracle they were not first found out themselves. The irony of his situation was not lost on Peter as he walked the dangerous line between discovery and madness.
By day he played the role of befuddled idiot and doting suitor; by night he bolted his door, not because it granted him any real safety, but because it created an illusion of control in a world gone mad. If the Lady noticed the stilted quality of his praise for her or the shudder he could not quite suppress when she took his arm, she did not seem to find it cause for concern.
It was a chance to find out as much as he could about her plans and her power itself, and for that alone Peter found himself feeling grateful. Through innocent sounding questions he discovered that, through some magic in the Northern air, speaking the name of a person or object with the proper incantations gave the Lady power to command their will and bend their actions to her own wishes. In that manner, she controlled the wills of her servants, preventing them from speaking and forcing their loyalty to her. It was by this method that she had kept him from escaping, and Peter was not foolish enough to believe she would hesitate to control him in the same manner again if she believed it was necessary.
As days wore into weeks and a month or more dragged slowly by, Peter began to realise that he barely cared now whether the Lady believed his deception or not. She needed him alive to lend legitimacy to her claim on Narnia, she had told him that much, and she could not harm Edmund and Lucy now that they were out of the city. He had nearly made up his mind to confront her, reveal her enchantment as broken and that the only power she now held of him was his name, if for no other reason than to save himself from the necessity of deceiving her longer.
The next day, as if in response to his increasing despair, he looked down from the battlements and saw a great army marching across the valley below. Rank upon rank of horsemen, Centaurs, fauns, satyrs, and all manner of other creatures, even a cluster of giants. Their banners and bright tunics stood out in stark contrast against the bleak landscape-a great golden Lion upon a blood red field-the Narnians had come for their king. Peter smiled grimly; at last this would be work better suited to him.
The King glowered down at the little horse-man who dared to treat with him. He supposed that this general, this Centaur, thought himself imposing with his armour and his weapons and his threats of destruction should the King not heed his terms, but for a giant even a centaur is not particularly awe inspiring.
Orieus himself was less impressed by the King than he expected to be; true, the giant was enormous, but his face appeared cruel and rather foolish despite all his claims of strength and intelligence. The Centaur knew at once that whatever cleverness there had been in the plot it was not a product of the King's own planning.
Orieus recognised the Green Lady immediately from Phillip's description, and studied her with more interest than he did the King. He saw at once that she was a witch; wondered how anyone could take her for anything else. She had the same look in her eyes that had always been in the White Witch's, and for all her smiles and courtesy she could not hope to hide that malicious gleam in her green eyes. Orieus gritted his teeth and stamped his hooves, wanting nothing more than to behead her with a single swing of his sword, but he restrained himself with difficulty and reluctantly observed the courtesies of diplomatic behaviour. Or rather, he bowed shortly and proceeded immediately to present his terms for the giants' surrender considering it courtesy enough that he had not yet killed them all for daring to threaten his sovereigns.
"Your highness," he addressed the King, though the words tasted bitter as he spoke them. "I have come by order of Queen Susan of Narnia to accept your surrender, should you agree to our terms. First, that the High King Peter be returned to us unharmed and immediately. Second, that for your insolence and audacity in attacking our royals you and your kingdom shall pay tribute to the royal court of Narnia of an amount to be later agreed upon. Third, that the witch known as the Green Lady be immediately released into our custody to await her execution at the High King's pleasure."
For a moment after Orieus finished speaking there was dead silence in the hall. Then the King laughed. No one else laughed or even seemed to breathe for it was terribly plain that the King, for all his laughter, was terribly angry.
"You presume to make demands of me, little horse-man? And in my own city, my own castle, no less!" He beckoned to the Lady who approached and stood at the right hand of this throne, though she barely reached the middle of his calf even standing. "This gracious Lady whom you have so lightly called a witch will speak with you now, I have not the patience to do so."
The Lady stepped forward with a truly charming smile that faded somewhat when Orieus did not react to it. "Dear general; can we not come to some more agreeable arrangement? Your High King is content, why should you not be as well?"
Orieus met her gaze impassively, expression like stone; he was familiar enough with the whiles of witches not to fall easily prey to them. "Perhaps if I could confirm the High King's wellbeing I would be more inclined to believe your reports of his contentment."
"Dear general," she tilted her head to one side and a slight hiss crept into her voice. "It seems to me that you are not in a position to make demands. You are at our mercy here, your soldiers cannot help you, and this fortress cannot be breached by the rabble clamouring at our gates; if we so wished it we could kill you now and throw your head back over the walls. How then would you lead your army? How then would you stand before and make demands for the life of your King?"
"If I die here it is the will of Aslan, but you will meet our demands or we will raze this castle to the ground."
The Lady laughed. "I rather like you, general. Very well, you shall not die, but rather, bear this message back to your Queen Susan. The Lady of the Green Kirtle and the King of the Giants salute the Queen of Narnia and command her to withdraw. No harm shall come to the High King but we shall not treat with nor surrender to invaders and tyrants. You have overthrown the rightful Queen of Narnia and murdered her in her own land; for these crimes and the crimes against the giants' King, Narnia must answer. Will you tell that for me, dear Centaur?"
"I will bear your message," conceded Orieus stiffly with a slight bow. "But know this, witch, I have faced your like before; though you may prevail for a time, those who are greater than you will cut you down and all your scheming shall come to naught." He turned and walked away, back perfectly straight and hooves almost silent even on the polished marble floor. Watching him go, the Lady shuddered, for she had often heard from her mother of the prophetic nature of Centaurs. She did not doubt that her doom would come upon her, but even in the face of realisation she smiled; before it did so her mother would be avenged and the High King would deliver his kingdom to her whether he willed it or not. First your siblings, then your kingdom, and when I have taken all else from you then at last I will take your life. Her smile broadened as she turned to seek him out.
I really despise the Green Lady...
Anyway, a note on the length of this story; I have two more chapters already written, which will be posted in the next few days, after that there will probably be three maybe four more chapters to wrap things up. Thank you for sticking with me through the longest story I have ever written! I love reading your reviews and hearing what you think, so if you are able to please leave a review on this chapter.
Cheers,
A
This chapter has now been looked over by my amazing beta PaintingMusic14, who has made it far more grammatically presentable than it previously was! Yay!