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 Fourteen: Dissent
The man with the squeaky voice watched her with beady eyes. "So you are saying that my client, John Doe, is the one who tortured, raped, and murdered all those runaways-"
Another man jumped to his feet, his thick grey mustache bristling, and shouted, "Objection! The counsel is characterizing the victims."
"I'll rephrase." The man fixed his eyes on her again, seeming fixated on the way she swallowed and didn't look around him at the one who did all of this. "Are you claiming that my client, John Doe, is this 'Monster' you attested to in the report taken by police?"
She nodded. "Yes."
The prosecutor interrupted again. "Your Honor, what is the point of this line of questioning? It seems the defendant's counsel only wants to prolong Miss Alambiel's forced contact with the defendant, ignoring the fact that she is a minor."
She ducked her head, trying not frown as she stared at her wrapped hands. Alambiel was not her last name, but the prosecutor said they would address her that way in order to make the jurors feel more sympathetic than if they knew her name was Alambiel Doe, or sometimes Katerina Alambiel Doe, according to the state of Colorado. An orphan or abandoned child. No one knew save for the fact that she was one of the unwanted. She looked back up as the judge finally questioned, "What is your client's name?"
The Monster leaned forward, leering at them all. "I am the Monster. I am the Taker of Life. I am the Hangman's Axe. And I will kill you, Princess! I will! I will!"
He lunged, struggling against the grip of the bailiffs, as he screamed more threats and obscenities. Then everything shifted and tilted.
She was painting… It was a little silly to run off and finish the mural before she even finished the letter, but she wanted to and he would be happy when she told him. Besides, it didn't take long for her to apply the final touches (even if she had barely waited long enough for it to dry properly to keep the paints from being muddy). She might even have time to slip into the nursery for a bit. Her hand was steady as she added a little more detail to the Centauress. She stepped back, admiring the work. Ah, there was one more spot that could use a bit more definition. She cleaned off the brush then chose a different brush, this one with a narrow fan. Dipping it in a creamy white, she added a stronger line between the Centauress' stocking and the rest of her leg. There was a faint scuff of a boot against marble. She turned her head…
Dead, unseeing eyes stared at her. The count's unnaturally still form had one arm flung out, his hand pointing at a word scrawled in the dirt – Murderer! She clapped her hands over her ears, but it didn't help. Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!
Alambiel jerked upright, gasping. She was half-sitting, half-lying on the settee. The tray of food for the noon meal lay cold and untouched on the low table. The Leopard…no, Ptah was watching her with concern but he wisely said nothing when she stumbled to the bathroom and retched into the basin. She had to talk to…to someone. Someone who would understand that she hadn't meant to… Alambiel retched again, unable to even complete the thought.
Once her stomach finally settled, she cleaned herself up. Smoothing her hair, she tried to at least look a little less insane than everyone no doubt believed. "Ptah?"
"My Lady?" Ochre eyes stared up at her as the Leopard joined her. There was an earnest desire to serve, to help in their depths.
"I need to speak to the General. Where might I find him?"
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Alambiel kept her head high as she traversed the long distance between her quarters and the floors reserved for military use. The whispers grew as she passed more and more soldiers, but she pretended she could not hear them. Just as she pretended that two Tigers had not fallen in behind her when Ptah first led her out of her chambers. The niggling voice that claimed she would be safer hiding inside her chambers was steadfastly and ruthlessly crushed. She could not afford to show more weakness, more insanity. She had to be strong even though she want to hide from the staring eyes and whispering voices.
The soldiers grew thinner in number as they crossed the length of a long hall decorated with various weapons, armor, and banners. There was a sense of history here and she wished she had time to linger, to try to chase down the pieces of memory flitting about always just out of reach. But, she couldn't. Ptah had moved ahead, speaking to a Faun.
Raised voices caught her attention. Alambiel hesitated then she heard the General's rumble. She glanced at Ptah but he was still immersed in conversation. Taking action before her doubts could force her into timidity, Alambiel quietly moved down the side hall. There weren't as many weapons here. Instead, the marble walls were decorated with several large tapestries depicting various creatures and events that made no sense to her. There were three doors, one on either side of the hall and then one at the end. She approached the door at the end of the hall, being careful not to make too much noise.
The General had stopped speaking by the time she reached the door. Alambiel raised her hand to knock but froze just before her knuckles brushed the solid oak. Another voice was speaking, his fervency, his concern etched into every word. "Are we certain these measures are enough? Dame Sepphora is lost to the battle shock and she has already killed once. Will these measures prevent her from doing so again or are they only going to be able to curtail the damage?"
Another voice, this one a tenor, interjected into the tenseness roiling out from behind the closed door. "Peridan, we cannot treat her as a prisoner. She may not be- That is to say, she is not herself; however, she is still the Princess Royal and the Four have already spoken on the matter. Guarded, not imprisoned."
"Not herself? Did you see what she did to an unarmed stranger, Cletus? Who's to say she will not do the same to a fellow Narnian? She is still a murderer. What makes the situation worse is how many innocents may run up to her, unaware that someone who had been a protector or even friend to them once might now kill them in the midst of a battle shock delusion. I have young children who might encounter that very scenario should they approach her."
Alambiel clapped her hand over her mouth and backed away from the door. Tears threatened, but she couldn't allow them to escape. Spinning around, she charged back up the hall. Ignoring Ptah's call, she fled the justifiable accusation. But, it still haunted her. Murderer…the charge would never cease, be it in the waking world or that formed of dreams. Her dreams were wrong about one thing – the madman was not the real monster…she was. And she would never cease to be a monster.
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Oreius clenched his jaw. His head told him that Peridan was reacting as a sire seeking to protect his foals from a new threat, but his heart… His heart yet rebelled at how Alambiel was being painted as a threat. The words disparaged her and everything she had given so much to attain. It was as if her sacrifices were being discounted and all for one incident. "Alambiel acted in defense of Queen Lucy; battle shock or not, she was responding to her training."
"Training?" Peridan stepped forward then swept his arm to the side, jabbing one finger at the window. "Look out there, Oreius, look out there at the children who are currently playing in the gardens not far from where the Queens are with their ladies. What if one of them ran up to the Queens? Can you say how Dame Sepphora will react?"
Oreius frowned. "You truly believe that the same mare who has spent so much time looking after foals and ensuring their protection would attack them even in the midst of battle shock?" If Alambiel ever learned Peridan suspected her capable of inflicting such harm to foals, innocent foals… It would break her heart.
"She doesn't remember any of that, Oreius!" Peridan ran his hand through his hair. "I have to consider the possibility that… Cletus! Would you permit your son near Dame Sepphora at this juncture, after witnessing how precarious her grip on reality is?"
The Faun glanced at Oreius then looked away. "No. I won't risk my family either."
Clenching his fists, Oreius slammed his hoof against the floor. He ignored the cautioning glance from Ardon. He had had enough of standing by and allowing Alambiel to be disparaged. He was still her shield. "I am not telling you to risk your families. If you wish to keep your wives and little ones out of Alambiel's path until she remembers and has sufficiently recovered from the battle shock, then that is your decision. However, I will not stand by and allow anyone in this army to ridicule, undermine, and slander everything Alambiel has done for Narnia and for many of us who are her friends. The Four ruled that she is not to be treated as a prisoner. These extra measures, the guards both on foot and on wing, the limitations on where she will be allowed to venture without being guided somewhere else, and the further restrictions on what we are allowed to tell her will be pushing her perilously close to her breaking point as it is."
He scanned the room, making sure to hold Peridan's gaze as he continued, "Any one of us as the swordmasters of Cair Paravel would present as great a potential danger were our places exchanged with hers. I still do not believe Alambiel will harm the foals she encounters, it is too deeply ingrained in her to protect them and you know as well as I that it would take a very severe episode of battle shock to pull a soldier into attacking anyone and everyone, but there are safeguards in place. Until such time as it is proven otherwise, those safeguards will neither increase nor decrease." Much as he despised having to place her under such a heavy guard, Oreius could not change the High King's orders. "The guards are well-aware that they are tasked with a dual duty of protecting others from an outburst and protecting the Princess Royal from any misguided and overzealous attempts to incapacitate her."
Peridan shook his head. "I fear this is folly and you have allowed the fact that you were courting her to influence you to leniency, Oreius. But, I also pray that I am wrong this time."
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A/N: Please Read and Review! So, who will be right? Peridan? Oreius? Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one!