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: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?
A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected), 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 Twelve: Judgment
Lucy's lips trembled and a faint sheen of tears was obvious in her blue eyes, but she still held her head high and spoke with confidence. "Kat's been in service as our protector for nearly as long as she has lived in the Cair. Her instincts about people and their intent have always been right in the past. And, I believe her testament that she sincerely believed I was in immediate danger from Count Achan."
Peter watched the faces of those gathered here. Oreius, though he was General, had not spoken up yet. Most likely because he knew his words would have to be viewed as biased due to his past relationship with Kat. Mr. Tumnus spoke up then. "Forgive me for bringing this up, but can we trust anything the Princess Royal says at the moment? She has lost her memory and in the absence of proper context…she is most dangerous, your majesties. She might have lied about the appearance of a knife in order to make herself feel justified about losing control and attacking an unarmed man." The Faun shifted, fiddling with the fringe of his red scarf, before he added, "It is not a pleasant subject, but I fear it must be raised."
"You raise a valid point, Master Tumnus." Peter raised his hand slightly to keep Lucy from leaping to Kat's defense then continued seriously, "However, I was watching her eyes when she spoke of a poisoned dagger. She did not tell an untruth…from her perspective."
Edmund nodded. "She believed what she was saying. Until she was pressed for an answer that her battle shock couldn't comprehend anymore."
"That is something we should be thankful for," Stonebrook stated solemnly. "If the Princess Royal had been able to answer the question in her current state, it would be impossible to determine whether it happened or if it is due to the battle shock. And if due to the battle shock, she would have to be confined to the healers' ward until she showed signs of improvement. Something that I do not believe would be beneficial to her hoped-for recovery."
"But why did she have such a terrible episode?" Susan looked around the room. "Is not battle shock usually preceded by another episode? A warning sign? Other than the nightmares, she was doing as well as could be expected considering she has lost her memory. We removed her knives…there was no reason to assume she would do something like this."
Oreius shifted, his tail lashing his flanks. "She had a severe panic attack yesterday afternoon. One of the worst I've witnessed." His jaw tightened as he ground out, "The ones who tortured her had her hand crushed with a war hammer. She remembered that detail yesterday."
Oh, Kat. What did they do to you? His sisters had turned pale and Thalia's light grip on his shoulder (she preferred to stand behind his chair at these meetings, though sometimes he was able to persuade her to take a chair) tightened. Peter looked down, praying for wisdom. "Then it would have been very easy for someone to trigger her battle shock into taking over."
Edmund sighed. "There was no knife. The guards scoured the entire area." When Lucy opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, Edmund spread his hands. "Kat believed she saw a knife. She imagined it was poisoned and part of a plot to attack you and Susan, Lu. There is no evidence to support her assumption that Count Achan was some sort of assassin. Did you see a blade? Even once, Lu?"
Lucy couldn't even form the words to reply, simply shaking her head and finally digging out a rumpled handkerchief to pat at the tears spilling over. Peter had the fervent wish that they could ignore this, that they could simply go about their day then come back to find this was all a misunderstanding and the count was not dead. But, that was a passing fancy and justice was the same whether for the humblest farmer or the Princess Royal. "Then we must decide if this tragedy was committed willfully or in the midst of a battle shock-influenced attempt to protect the Valiant."
The deafening silence was most telling as to the difficulty of this task.
ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ
"Alambiel, you should sit now, child."
She kept pacing, rubbing her hands against her arms. She was so cold. The image of the man's dead, staring eyes flashed before her and she half-stumbled as she choked back a sob. Murderer. You are nothing more than a murderer.
"Alambiel."
"I can't." She couldn't bring herself to look at Tuulea or Leeta or even the Centauress…she scrounged through her thoughts for a name, feeling the sharp bite of panic rising until she hit upon the name…Caia. Alambiel flinched when Caia shifted.
"You were trying to protect the Queen Lucy as you were trained to do. Their majesties know this." The Centauress kept her voice gentle and calm as she spoke the words Alambiel wished she could believe.
Turning to pace the length of the room once more, Tuulea beckoned her to join her on the settee. This time Alambiel did not resist. She was too desperate for comfort even if she did not deserve it. Monster…murderer. She swallowed hard to keep from dissolving into tears or screaming her denial at her own accusing thoughts…maybe she really was crazy.
Tuulea's kind gaze and the gentle touch to her hand was nearly too much to bear. "You must trust in Aslan, child. He will carry you through this trial as He has in your past."
A past she could not remember. A name the Narnians all counted as very important but it meant nothing to her. How could something that meant nothing comfort her? But she held her tongue and did not ask the question that would no doubt turn even Tuulea against her. Murderer.
She jumped to her feet and whirled to face the door when the knock sounded. Her breathing was too fast. She needed to calm down. She needed to breathe. Leeta gave her a wide berth as she went to open the door and both Caia and Tuulea were watching her warily. Alambiel took a deep breath and another and another until she could take a steady step forward. Leeta glanced over her shoulder. "The council is ready to see you now, my Lady."
This was it. Alambiel had a sudden vision of a small dark cell and nearly stumbled again but this time she righted herself before it was too noticeable. Show no weakness. Don't let them see how afraid you are, don't let them see that you just might be as crazy as they fear. She shivered as a high-pitched, mocking laugh echoed through her thoughts. Murderer.
Time seemed to stand still until she found herself standing in the middle of a room, eyes watching her. Some looked at her with pity, others with suspicion and a touch of fear, and one looked at her with a gaze so impassive she might as well have been non-existent. The General looked away, focusing on the Four and Alambiel forced herself to do the same. She shouldn't wonder why he despised her enough to not even show emotion, she knew…she was a murderer.
The High King cleared his throat, drawing Alambiel's attention. "It is with regret that this council assembled to determine whether a dear friend has committed willful murder."
The younger, darker king focused on her. Something his gaze sparked a sense of kinship. Once a traitor, now a judge. The thought fled before she could find the memory it should have accompanied. "Count Achan was unarmed when you attacked him. There was no sign of any weapon, not even a boot knife, on his body. However, We have decided that you saw a knife and believed Our Sister, the Queen Lucy, was in danger when you attacked Count Achan. Narnia's laws make provisions for soldiers who commit acts of violence while under the influence of battle shock. Furthermore, it is clear to Us that you, Alambiel, Lew's Daughter, were particularly susceptible to a severe occurrence of battle shock due to a particularly traumatizing memory you recovered yesterday."
Her eyes flickered to the General. He had told them how weak she was… Murderer. She stamped down on the urge to flinch as King Edmund continued, "It is, therefore, the finding of this council that you did not commit willful murder and you shall not stand trial for this tragic accident. However, additional precautions shall be put in place so that you and those around you may remain safe."
Murderer. Prisoner. Untrustworthy. Alambiel bowed her head in silent acquiescence. She did not want to be placed in a cell again. She could not stand to be trapped in a cell again.
ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ
Peter sighed as he crossed his arms behind his head. "I don't want you to be alone with Kat." As soon as the hairbrush stilled in her nut-brown locks, he knew he needed to explain further. Thalia didn't turn around as he broke the heavy silence. "I ordered Lucy and Susan not to be alone with Kat. I am asking you, Flower. Please, don't be alone with her. It's too dangerous right now. If Kat becomes lost to the battle shock again and attacks someone…it would break my heart for it to be you or the girls. I'm sure it would break Kat's heart too once…if she recovered her sensibilities. But, I would not be able to forgive her for it."
His bride turned slightly to look at him as she lay the brush down on her dressing table then rose and approached the bed. "If that is what will soothe your heart and mind, I will do as you request." He lowered an arm and lifted the light sheet, allowing Thalia to slide in next to him. She pressed against his side as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I worry that we are isolating the Princess Royal too much. The General removed all hints of their courtship and now…I fear she feels very isolated."
He brought his arm up to hug her closer. "I know. I'm worried about it too, but I can't risk you and my sisters. We'll figure something out, something where we can help her while keeping you three safe." He rubbed his thumb against the smooth skin of Thalia's upper arm then turned his head to press a kiss against her forehead.
She surprised a chuckle out of him when her hand slid across his abdomen to lightly brush over his bruise. Her light green eyes were filled with a mix of mischief and something far more passionate. "Is your bruise terribly debilitating, my dear Peter?"
"Well, perhaps a kiss or two will aid in my recovery, lady." He grinned as Thalia giggled then he silenced her with a kiss. One arm looped around his neck while her other hand grasped at his hair as their kiss gained fervency. Wrapping his arms more tightly around her, Peter silently thanked Aslan that with his bride he could cease to be the High King, for a night at least.
ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ
A/N: Please Read and Review! I'm not sure if I'll be posting tomorrow or this weekend, so if not, I wish all my readers celebrating Independence Day tomorrow a safe and wonderful holiday weekend. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. And have a happy Independence Day!