Hi everyone.
First of all, I would like to thank everyone who has read my story, with special thanks to those who have taken the time to review. Lady Hannah, your criticism has been a blessing.
I know I have not updated this story in a very long time, and for that I apologize. I also know that this is not the kind of update you were all hoping for, and again, my sincerest apologies.
I will NOT abandon this story. Even as I reread what I have written and wince, I cannot simply delete this story. That said, I wish to do this story - and Arielle, Gariv, and every other character - justice so I will be rewriting it. I have greatly expanded my characters' backgrounds and personalities, and this has changed how they will interact with the other characters. Hence the rewrite.
While I rewrite everything, I will leave this story up for your enjoyment, and as a promise from me that I will finish it.
Sincerely,
Lassie
An excerpt:
Lucy hadn't ever seen General Arielle so angry.
She didn't show it openly of course, but Arielle was stiff in a way that Lucy remembered her mother was when Helen was furious with someone but didn't wish to be obvious about it. Arielle regarded the Witch carefully, brilliant green eyes narrowed on the blonde like a hawk watching it's prey, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
She found it strange really, how despite the outward appearances, Arielle and the Witch were so similar. The way they seemed to command respect in just their bearing, the look of royalty that the finest clothes could not replicate. They wore auras of strength. Lucy could feel it, a power emanating from them that resonated in her very bones. While the Witch's chilled her, grated against her very sense of all that was natural in this world, Arielle's soothed and warmed her, lending her strength and wakening her mind.
The White Witch's entourage came to a halt, and her throne lowered to the ground. As water flows over stone, the Witch stood in a singularly graceful and fluid movement and stepped forward. Depthless and unfeeling black eyes swept over the gathered troops, settling briefly on her and each of her siblings, pausing for but a moment longer upon Edmund. As the Witch looked away, Edmund shuddered. Lucy grasped his hand in a show of comfort.
"I see you have yet another traitor in your midst, dear Arielle." The Witch sneered. Lucy felt a chill slip down her spine at the barely concealed malice in her voice. "A soft spot, I suppose, for shared history?"
Lucy gasped at the Witch's insinuation of Arielle being a traitor. Arielle herself did not react, but mutters and even outright snarls and growls rippled through the troops. Edmund went stiff with barely contained anger.
"Shared history, for those tricked and compelled by you into doing your dirty work?" Arielle replied coolly. "For those you have deceived and abandoned? Yes, there is truth to that. But if you mean to accuse me of treason, Jadis, you seem to have forgotten that I have never acted against Narnia. As for you?" Arielle gave a humorless smile. "It is not treason if you were the one to betray me first, a lesson you learned first hand."
More mutters. The Witch's sneer morphed into something closer to a soundless snarl. "Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built?"
Arielle's expression lost all emotion. Edmund sighed. Confused, Lucy glanced at him. His eyes were locked on his mentor, brown eyes sad. Lucy opened her mouth to whisper to him, to ask what upset him, when Arielle's voice, dead as could be, captured her attention once more. "You know well that I could never forget after what you did. However, as you seem so eager to do how, please, enlighten us."
The false Queen smiled, the cold smile of a predator. "Yes, you do know well that every traitor belongs to me. Your prince's blood belongs to me."
It felt as if someone had punched Lucy in the stomach. This couldn't be true. She'd only just gotten her brother back. The Witch was lying. But Arielle's face held only pain and regret, while a look at her brother revealed naught but resignation. "No." She breathed.
There was a ring of steel on wool as Rhindon cleared it's sheath, and suddenly, Peter stood between them and the Witch. Susan had an arrow notched and drawn, giving her target pause as the minotaur reached for his battleaxe. Lucy palmed her knife and dagger, shooting a warning glare at the Black dwarf edging for his own blade. "Try and take him then!" Peter spat. The blonde trembled with rage, though Rhindon remained steady.
The Witch laughed. "Do you really think that mere force will deny me my right, little King?" Peter bristled at the condescending words and tone. "Unless I have blood as the law demands, all of Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water." The Witch's voice rose until she could be heard by the entire camp. Her hand came up, a pale finger pointing at Edmund. "That boy will die on the Stone Table, as is tradition, and neither you nor your Queen can change this."
Her eyes widened, and her neck cracked as Lucy whipped her head around to stare at Arielle. Queen? Susan stiffened in surprise, as did Peter. Edmund did not react, but Lucy barely noticed. Murmurs and cries of confusion swept through the troops, but she did see General Oreius's lack of surprise that implied he had known.
Arielle closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Stay your weapons, all of you." She ordered, her hazel gaze stern as she looked towards the four Pevensies. Reluctantly, they sheathed their weapons, and the general turned her attention back to the Witch. "I must speak with Jadis. Alone."