Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: A sorcerer challenged by Aslan. Love and friendship alike are tested by his presence. And the Gentle Queen faces her own challenge when the sorcerer's true colors are unveiled.

A/N: If you have not read the first eight stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, Reflected, and Veiled), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Complications

Thalia resisted the urge to duck her head and fall into step behind Queen Lucy as they approached the Tarkaan's guest quarters. She was not a slender sapling to be bent to and fro by the whims of the wind. Not even a wind as blustering as the Tarkaan Babak. She raised her chin ever so slightly. She was the wife of the High King. And, she glanced at Lucy, she was not alone.

Sekhmet growled low in her throat when two of the Tarkaan's guards unsheathed their scimitars and blocked the way to the chambers that had been set aside for the Tarkaan and his wives. But, Thailia quickly placed a hand against the Jaguar's head, stilling her instinctive reaction. She didn't flinch, though, as she met the contemptuous looks directed at her by the guards. Lucy stepped forward, her eyes flashing dangerously, even as she sweetly asked, "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

The burlier of the two guards, his head shaved smoothed and two golden bands stretched around his left bicep, turned a haughty gaze on her as he rumbled, "Where are the men?"

"As Tarkaan Babak requested, there are no male guards permitted to enter this corridor without previous dispensation." Queen Lucy paused then tilted her head prettily. "That was your concern, was it not?"

A hint of a sneer curl his lip before it vanished. But the condescension dripped from his tone like a sickly honey oozing from the trunk of a tree. "And do you have permission from the barbarian kings to come here?"

Summoning all her courage, Thalia stepped forward. "I am the Princess Consort, wife of the High King. Queen Lucy and I have come to speak with your master."

Lucy's voice took on a touch of steel as she added, "As you are guests under Our roof, you have no authority to stop us since We and Our sister-in-law bring no harm to those you are pledged to protect. If you continue to delay Us rather than announcing Our presence to the Tarkaan, We are certain the sun will be darkened in his eyes because of your actions."

She thought the lumbering man paled slightly but his skin was so dark that it was impossible for her to be certain. But then his dark brows lowered into a glower that nearly rivaled the General's as he responded stiffly, "My master is not to be disturbed."

Thalia took another step forward, ignoring Sekhmet's subtle attempt to catch her by the skirt. She narrowed her eyes, doing her best to imitate the cool disdain the Princess Royal and Queen Susan were so skilled at employing when a flare of temper would not suit. Like frost kissing the stripped branches of a tree, she allowed coolness to creep into her voice. "Then announce Our presence to the Tarkheena Zinat. She will see Us or We shall take offense."

For a long moment, the guards made no move to disengage their swords or to alert the Tarkheena to their presence. Thalia's heart was racing to the point that she thought it a miracle no one else seemed to hear it. Oh, merciful Lion, don't let me have overstepped.

Then the guard grunted and sheathed his sword. His companion mirrored his movements and then silently gestured for a slave to come forward. The sweet-faced boy looked up at them for only a moment then bowed low. "Please this way, O most beauteous of ladies."

They swept into the chamber that had been richly decorated in verdant greens and blues as pure as the northern sky. Tarkheena Zinat reclined lazily on a pile of embroidered cushions. Her dark hair was threaded with gold charms and glittering emeralds and pearls while the dress comprised of thin layers of silk in gold and emerald clung to her body in a way that left little to the imagination. Only the tiny lines at the corners of her eyes betrayed that the Tarkheena was not young. The eyelids caked in gold opened slowly to reveal dark, limpid eyes. "Welcome, O Queen and Concubine."

Thalia's cheeks grew warm but she was unsure of whether the languid tone in which that mockery of a title was uttered had been intended to offend. As embarrassing as it was to be referred to as a . . . concubine, she chose her words with care. "I fear you are mistaken, Tarkheena. I am not a concubine, I am my husband's Consort."

Limpid eyes studied her from beneath thick, dusky lashes before sweeping down her body and then back up again. The Tarkheena's rogued lips parted to reveal milk-white teeth as a low laugh spilled forth. She made no move to sit up as she turned her head slightly to eye the other woman who was seated on a smaller pile of cushions. "What say you, Paniz, to this strange northern custom? Perhaps my lord the Tarkaan shall name you and Shirin as consorts. If you please him enough."

Lucy sucked in her breath but Thalia did not give her the chance to speak on her behalf. She would answer the challenge on her own strength. Her cheeks burned but from wrath and not embarrassment, still she managed to keep her tone civil as she looked down her nose at the lounging woman who now smirked at her. "I am no man's concubine. I am Princess Consort to the High King and Empress of the Lone Islands. Are you so indolent that you show no respect? For shame."

A flash of anger hardened the Tarkheena's eyes for but a moment before they regained their limpid quality. She raised one slender hand, each finger weighed down by rings of gold and silver, and waved it airily. "My boy has proclaimed that you seek an audience. How may my house serve?"

Using the lessons the Princess Royal and Queen Susan especially had encouraged her in throughout her engagement and the first year of marriage, Thalia swept over to one of the comfortable Narnian chairs and took a seat. She took the time to arrange her skirts so they fell just so. Glancing up, she caught Lucy's laughing gaze and the barest hint of a nod of approval as the queen seated herself as well. And when her attention returned to the insolent Tarkheena, she glimpsed the barest hint of a pleased smile from the younger woman Zinat had addressed as Paniz.

Now, though she allowed Queen Lucy to address the matter. "We and Our Sister the Queen Susan wish to invite you to attend a tea with us in the large conservatory. It is the best way to see-"

The doors set within the left wall slammed open with such force that they shuddered and bounced while a dull roar filled the air, "You think you will be spared the whip? I care not if your back is marred! Tash-blighted little fool!"

Thalia and Lucy leapt to their feet, whirling around to see Tarkaan Babak. The man was thickset and almost as tall as the Princess Royal. His dark face was angular but age and food had softened the sharpness of those lines that were visible above his sapphire beard. A dark fire danced within his eyes and sweat beaded on his lined forehead as the large veins in his neck stood out. He wore only a pair of billowing silk leggings and a layer of fat bulged over the top where muscle had turned soft. But the worst of it was how the little sapling dangled by the arm from his large fist.

Her dark hair was snarled and without adornment while her thin shift was torn on one side, revealing purpling bruises around her neck and her left shoulder. Her head lolled disconcertingly as the Tarkaan shook her like a dog with a stick then threw her halfway across the room so that she collided against the chairs Thalia and Lucy had just abandoned. Thalia bit her lip to keep from crying out. The sapling made no attempt to fight or to shield herself. Instead, she only drew soft, shuddering breaths. The urge to weep on her behalf grew stronger when Thalia met the child's dulled eyes.

With a speed that belied her swollen belly, Paniz threw herself in front of the girl. Touching her forehead to the rug, she cried, "O my master, the High King's sister and wife have come!"

Tarkaan Babak raised his hand as though he would strike the woman carrying his child but then the fire faded from his gaze swifter than it should have if doused naturally. He took two steps away from them and then turned to bow obsequiously to Lucy. "O Queen of Narnia, O delight of my host's eyes, what honor you bring us with your visit." His tone was too calm. It was like the sudden stillness before a massive wind howled and pulled at the trees so hard it felt as though they would be uprooted. Thalia repressed a shiver as the Tarkaan dared to rake her body with his gaze. His tone turned even more servile and honeyed as he smiled at her and then at Lucy once more. "Say I may serve even a single distraction from your toilsome tasks in this place and it shall be a blessing from Tash himself. If I cannot, then know O fair ones that the sun shall be darkened in my eyes until the day I may serve you."

How could he stand there? Flattering them as though he had not just harmed the sapling who still lay listless on the floor. Thalia resisted the urge to draw back from him. His presence felt like it was a blight creeping in to leave cankers and destroy an entire grove if left unchecked. Lucy's typically bright voice was somewhat subdued as she responded, "We and Our Sister the Queen Susan would like your wives to join us for tea in the large conservatory. You arrived in Narnia so late that they have not been able to see all of the wildflowers and Our rose garden is not to be missed. You may of course tour the conservatory with Our brothers prior to the tea."

A frown flickered across the Tarkaan's face but then he smiled and bowed once more. "My wives will be honored to join the royal h- women of the north."

"How wonderful. The tea will be held in a week's time."

With that the Tarkaan agreed and then politely but firmly escorted them to the doors. But his presence did not prevent Thalia from glimpsing how Paniz hovered worriedly over little Shirin while Tarkheena Zinat retained her languid position. She had not even turned her head during the commotion. Gold eyelids opened once more and a mocking tilt curled her rogued lips as the Tarkheena watched them leave.

Thalia's steps did not falter until they had passed the two hulking guards and a child's scream shattered the silence, only somewhat muffled by the closed doors. Every instinct screamed for her to turn back but Lucy's cold hand gripped hers and squeezed. Once they were out of sight, but not out of hearing range, Thalia pressed her hand to her mouth. Tears stung her eyes and she felt ill to her very roots.

The journey back to her quarters was a blur. She heard Lucy's voice murmuring but the words slipped away as though on the breeze. It was not until he came, golden and with an embrace as warm as the sun and as solid as a proud oak, that Thalia could speak through her tears. "Peter, oh, Peter! We must stop him."

"Thalia." Warm kisses peppered across her forehead, eyelids, and cheeks. "Oh Flower, I'm sorry but we cannot interfere. Our hands are tied."

Opening her eyes, she stared at her husband. His concerned face was blurry through her tears but she could hear the frustration hovering in his words. Still, she clung to his tunic. "Peter, what if that were Vedis? He will kill her before he returns to Calormen. She is only a sapling and yet he abuses her so cruelly. And that despicable Tarkheena. They are both blights and must be stopped. Please, Peter, there must be a way to save the sapling before she is cut down before even having the chance to bloom."

Her husband's strong arms came around her, holding her tight against his chest. She felt him rest his cheek against her hair. And then he allowed her to cry. When her tears were at last spent, Thalia still clung to Peter, taking refuge in the shelter of his arms.

"Thalia?"

"Yes?"

She felt the heavy sigh shake his chest before he stated quietly but in the same passionate tones that warned he would not be swayed from his course, "We will find a way to rescue Shirin."

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Leeta had yet to return from her errands, allowing Alambiel to better conceal how much that note had shaken her. Ptah had given her a very unhappy look, twitching his tail in agitation, before he obeyed her command for him to wait in the sitting room with the others while she worked at her desk. The healer's report she was looking over shook. Alambiel took a deep breath as she set the report down and then clasped her hands together, willing the trembling to stop. She was fine. She was not being hunted by the Monster again. This was all just someone's attempt to rattle her. It had been hours since she showed it to Oreius. She was fine. It was a shot in the dark. They could not know that the Monster came from this world or how he had tormented her. Such a letter would disturb anyone. It wasn't him.

"Kat?"

She jumped, her hands flattening against the desk to keep from throwing one of her knives, and then turned her head to see Susan hovering in the doorway. She licked her lips then asked, "What is it?"

Susan watched her with clear concern for the span of two heartbeats before she replied, "Edmund is with Markus and would like us to share what information we have on Merry. He didn't say why."

"I'm sure he'll explain once we get there." Alambiel rose then crossed the room, slipping by Susan, and leading the way to the dungeons. She didn't want Susan asking the question she had glimpsed in her eyes. And she didn't want to slow down enough to risk anyone seeing the way her hands still trembled. The guards opened the last door without question, giving away the fact that Edmund had left instructions for their immediate presence, and this time she did not spy either of Ambassador Terril's nephews lurking about in another attempt to gain a private audience with her and Susan.

Edmund was inside the outer cell, facing Markus. The sorcerer had braced both forearms against the bars. The men glanced at them as they entered and then Edmund's quiet words broke the silence, "What did you find out about Merry's family?"

Markus stiffened. That was interesting. The pounding headache grew in strength and Alambiel resisted the urge to rub her temples as Susan answered, "Merry was an orphan. She was raised by an uncle. We're still looking into some other matters, though."

"You are alive."

She smirked. "Quite. And you are not the first sorcerer to sound surprised by my continued avoidance of a permanent end." She paused, enjoying the mix of confusion and amusement in his eyes, before she added, "At least, you don't seem disappointed by my continued existence."

Edmund cleared his throat. "When did Merry die?"

Alambiel frowned at the odd question but kept her gaze fixed on Markus. The former sorcerer was difficult to read but the change in conversation was disturbing him. She narrowed her eyes as she offered, "Yesterday around an hour before noon."

"That is a lie!" Markus snapped. "Merry died twenty years before Jadis attacked Narnia."

She brushed a hand against Susan's sleeve, stilling the protest that had not doubt sprung to her lips, and then she turned back to Markus. "Describe her."

"What?"

"I said describe her. Describe Merry for me."

He looked at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Then he dragged his hands down his face. "Merry was a Nymph, not bound to a Tree. She was of a height with Queen Susan with long silver hair that fell to the ground. She delighted in archery. Only the battle of wits involved in her role as ambassador would bring a greater spark to her dark eyes. She always looked sweet, her heart-shaped face and soft words tricked many of her diplomatic counterparts into underestimating her."

"You loved her."

That won Markus' undivided attention. His eyes widened and the softness that had appeared when he spoke of the elder Merry vanished. "No." Markus shook his head again, shoving away from the bars. "No, I only enjoyed watching her interactions with the world around her. She was different from what I knew."

There was something else. She knew there was something else. She rubbed her temple, wishing the throbbing would cease at least long enough for her to put the puzzle together. She was close to seeing the last crucial pieces, she was certain of it. Markus was speaking again, explaining about his Merry, how he had failed her. The bars wavered. Alambiel blinked rapidly then took a step closer to the bars. Markus' words caught her attention just then. "Wait. How much time passed between when Merry was betrayed and when you saw her dying?"

"Eight months, I think."

"Of course." She turned away from the bars, which had started wavering again. Her headache was growing worse. She'd have to take something for it later.

"Kat?" Susan's voice echoed slightly. Trick of the dungeons. "Kat, are you all right?"

"Of course," she repeated. "Our Merry must be the daughter. It makes far more sense than them just sharing the same name. The coloring is different but there are other physical similarities. Traits are more likely to be carried through a family line." She shook her head slightly then pressed her hand to her temple. She might have to take something sooner than later.

She spun back to Markus and wished she hadn't as the entire cell turned on its side. She closed her eyes. Edmund and Susan were speaking but the words were nonsense. When she opened her eyes again, the cell was in its proper position and Markus was directly in front of her. She ignored the worry in his gaze. "If your Merry was the mother of our Merry, I think I know who the father was. It wouldn't make sense if it wasn't. It was-"

Everything flopped on its side again. Alambiel put out a hand, trying to brace herself but the bars jumped out of her grasp and her fingers closed on naught but air. Her stomach flopped and darkness ringed her vision. The pain in her head was multiplying. A distant roaring filled her ears and she could barely discern voices shouting something in the midst of the roaring. And then everything went black.

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Markus watched as Lew's Daughter blanched and then crumpled. Crouching down, he shoved his arms through the bars so he could brush her hair back and press his fingers against her neck. Her pulse was erratic and her breathing shallow. "She needs a healer."

The dark-haired king knelt by her head. "Kat?" When she did not respond, he turned to the guards. "Lieutenant Alaois, carry the Princess Royal back to her quarters and send a message for one of the healers to meet you there."

Queen Susan stepped forward to meet the brown-furred Satyr as he entered the outer cell. "I will go with you. We have to let Oreius know something's happened."

Markus didn't realize he had failed to withdraw his hands until the Satyr cast him a black look. He pulled his hands back but remained crouched as the Satyr carefully lifted Lew's Daughter into his arms and then carried her out with the Gentle Queen following in his wake. He turned to look at the Just, who also remained crouched. "I hope you realize that I have done nothing to her."

"And I hope you realize that your swift attempt to deny participation only makes you seem suspect."

He smirked at the wry tone then nodded. "Aye. But, sometimes it is best to preempt uncomfortable questions." The smirk faded as his gaze was drawn to the door once more. "She is the only person who has believed me since the day I surrendered to Narnian custody. I hope she recovers."

"She rallies from predicaments all the time. I wouldn't worry."

Markus chuckled as he rose to his full height. "Yes, that is another trait she shares with you and your brother, escaping impossible odds. Aslan is merciful to you."

The Just gave him a measuring look as he also stood. "If you knew anything, you would share the information."

It was not a question. Markus dipped his head slightly. "I shall attempt to recall anything that might prove helpful."

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Queen Susan was waiting when Oreius entered his chambers. She started up from her seat but he only offered the most perfunctory of bows. "My wife?"

"Alithia is with her."

Moving swiftly toward the bedchamber door, Oreius still paused when the Gentle's soft query reached his ears. "Oreius, shall I wait?"

"No. Thank you, My Queen, but I do not how long this will take and I do not wish to detain you."

"Very well. Please let us know if you and Kat need anything."

"I will, My Queen."

Risking rudeness, Oreius hurriedly opened the door and entered the chamber. Alambiel was in their bed and as pale as the pillows propping her up, but still she scowled. "Don't be ridiculous."

Alithia flicked her tail as she continued measuring out some sort of solution. "You admitted that you didn't eat today. And exactly how many times did you faint?"

"None at all." Oreius scowled and his wife scowled right back at him. "And don't you start, Kentauri. I don't faint. I'm too dignified to faint." A flash of irritation entered her eyes as Alithia laughed and even Oreius suddenly found it impossible to hide his own grin. "Fine. I'll rephrase. I'm too stubborn to faint."

"Or at least admit it," Alithia muttered as she cast him a glance. Her gaze flicked to the teacup and he offered the slightest nod. He would have to help her with taking care of the obstinate mare.

Oreius approached the bed then reached out to place his hand against Alambiel's cheek. She did not feel too warm but there was a definite pallor to her skin. "You are sick."

"Amn't."

"Is that even proper language for the Princess Royal to use?"

"Alithia. Not helping." Alambiel didn't turn her head to look at the healer though as she added, "And I am not going to stay in bed all day tomorrow. I have duties that need to be taken care of, some of them are quite pressing."

Oreius looked over his shoulder at the Centauress. "Does she need to stay in bed?"

"Yes."

"No."

He flicked his tail as he crossed his arms. "Alambiel, you are going to rest tomorrow. Right now, your only duty is to take care of yourself."

Alambiel huffed, "There is no reason. You're both overreacting."

"Leeta found you unconscious thrice in the last four days, including this morn. You need to rest or you will collapse again."

"What?" Oreius' brow furrowed as he stared at his wife who was rather pointedly avoiding meeting his gaze. "And you did not tell me?"

"I barely saw you last week. A bout of dizziness is nothing to be alarmed over."

"Alambiel."

"Yes, Oreius?"

He took a deep breath. "By the Lion, you are most vexing, Wife."

Alambiel turned to face him but then she somehow blanched even further. He caught her by the shoulders when she would have slumped. As he helped her to ease back against the pillows, her hands came up. They were trembling. He could hear Alithia moving around but his attention remained focused on Alambiel. She offered him a wan smile. "Okay, maybe I should sleep in tomorrow."

"You are not getting out of this bed until Alithia agrees." He could hear the softer steps of the Centauress and reached back with his right hand. A teacup was pressed into his waiting grasp and then he carefully brought it around to press against Alambiel's lips. She was ill since she drank half its contents before grimacing and pushing it away.

But she still attempted to protest. "Oreius, you are both being overcautious and paranoid. There's nothing wrong with me. I just didn't eat enough today. A little rest and a good meal tomorrow and I'll be fine." Alambiel's eyelids drooped before she rallied. Then a pout appeared as her eyelids drooped again. "Cheater."

"I know," he whispered as the drug took effect, lulling Alambiel into much needed rest. He rearranged the pillows so she was lying down instead of being propped up. Oreius pulled the coverlet up and then stepped back from the bed. He prayed that she was right, that this was truly nothing but the sly threats in the letters mocked his attempt to find a mundane explanation.

"Have you told her about the marks to Merry's back?"

"No." The word came out harsher than he meant and he shook his head. "Forgive me, that was unnecessary. But," he caught and held Alithia's gaze as he handed her the teacup, "you cannot tell Alambiel about that detail. She is fragile. If she learned that someone was leaving the same marks as her Monster gave to her, I do not know if I could keep her from shattering. What happened last autumn must not happen again. I do not think Alambiel would survive being so broken again."

The Centauress nodded, sympathy in her grey eyes. He followed her as she moved away from the bed to put up her supplies. The concern was too great to be ignored and he whispered, "Alithia, has she been poisoned?"

"I do not know." Alithia glanced at the bed then turned back to him. "It is possible but her symptoms could represent many things. And I am wondering if her collapse was caused by something else." She raised her eyebrows. "Have you noticed anything else about Alambiel that has changed recently? Besides the lack of appetite and fainting?"

He shook his head. "I didn't even know she was collapsing due to something other than a panic attack." The Centauress gave him an odd look. "What is it? What do you think it is, Alithia?"

Alithia smiled. "You've been married three months, Oreius. The symptoms are still those that could represent anything but . . . Alambiel might be expecting."

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A/N: Please Read and Review! Sooooo, what did y'all think?