Moments in Time
Disclaimer: Copyright J.K. Rowling & C.S. Lewis
VI: Warriors
or
"A person's actions will tell you everything you need to know."
Edmund's life consisted of a series of unlikely events (like stepping through a wardrobe and becoming a King of another world, for instance). Aside from his uncanny habit of surviving things which were widely considered fatal - the White Witch's sword (he, by all means of reality, should be dead had it not been for Lucy's magical cordial), the Giants of Estimoor and dozens and dozens of wars - his life was nothing but predictable. So whilst Edmund endured these unstable moments in his life without as much of a word of complaint (even the blithering Ladies of the Court), he never truly grasped the art of patience one must have to survive these instances. Currently, he could feel the small magnitude of that asset running very thin, very fast.
"It's quite a simple question Lord Berthing, could you please recount your whereabouts in the last couple hours?" Edmund said, the vein above his forehead twitched. His cheeks had turned slightly rosy due to his increasing blood pressure and decreasing tolerance.
"... Well, I, uh ... I'm not quite sure, Sire. Let's see, uh, earlier this evening I was having dinner on the balcony with Lady Gwen and then we, uh, danced for a while by the pool - or was it in the garden? Dear me, I can't quite remember. ... I wasn't paying attention to the scenery per say - not the landscape, anyway, if you catch my drift..." The man wheezed.
Edmund pinched the bridge of his nose and peered at the middle-aged man over his fingers. Aslan give him strength.
"…So, you were not near the courtyard?"
"No, no. We were ... in the South Wing ... we would have stayed there too- (all night)..., had we not heard those awful screams ... I was expecting to hear a very different type of scream tonight as well - from Lady Gwen that is ... such a shame. All my efforts have gone to waste..." Edmund scowled at the man's lack of tact.
"Right. Thank you. You information has been most useful." Edmund said insincerely with a strained smile as he cut the man off before he became too detailed with his transgressions. The bumbling man fumbled with his hat as he bowed to his King. "Next!" Edmund called; the exertion in his voice was palpable and the tension in his neck was as taut as a tight rope.
Edmund thought that it was amusing how Lords (often consumed with fear about being questioned by their Kings) forgot to hold their tongue and unknowingly divulged information they otherwise would not have uttered. In any other scenario, Edmund was positive that Lord Berthing would not have been so forthcoming about his ... folly.
This was, no doubt, going to be a long night for him. He looked over to the easternmost corner where Peter was huddled with their most trusted generals, discussing which night guard had been in near vicinity to the courtyard during their patrol. Patrols around Cair Paravel were always carried out in twos; so it was an easy job, as everyone should, without a doubt, have an alibi. Most of the knights in their army were handpicked for their excellence in both character and swordistry. Edmund did not believe that they would not be the perpetrators of this heinous crime. Edmund envied Peter in that moment.
He, however, did not envy Caspian, for had the worst job of them all - he had been saddled with the Ladies of the Court. Edmund grimaced with sympathy as he looked upon the man who was dealing with women who were fawning around him, reaping his misplaced empathy. Though, better him than them. It was well known in Narnia that Queen Susan the Gentle and King Caspian X were courting. So any affection the women threw at him would be done with the knowledge that they had little to no chance as everyone paled in comparison to the beautiful Queen. But Edmund and Peter were open season and whilst Peter didn't mind the attention too much; Edmund detested it.
"Permission to speak, Sire?" The Knight Mouse, Reepicheep, requested as he somersaulted through the air from the drapes and landed in front of Edmund.
"As ever you would need it," Edmund replied, smirking at the Mouse who always had an opinion on the matter. Edmund nodded his dismissal to the Lord he had been speaking to, turning his full attention onto the loyal Narnian.
"I may be misspeaking Sire ... but I believe that none of the driveling Telmarines gathered here are capable of such dishonour." Repicheep condescended, his whiskers twitching wildly.
Edmund felt a couple of Lords standing at hearing distance bristled at the insult. Wisely, Edmund motioned for Reepicheep to follow him to a more private alcove.
"Do you have intel?" Edmund asked as he bent down as close as he could to the Mouse's height.
"Your Highness will have to beg my pardon, as you see, I had my pack scattered around the room, listening for anything of use. I can confidently say that Your Majesty will not be able to find his culprit here." Edmund looked skywards, and suddenly noted the gathering of Mice running from corner to corner, hanging from draping and beams, slyly eavesdropping into private conversations.
Edmund smirked; his spies were so well trained.
"No, need to apologise, Reep. After all, this is what I hired you for." Edmund said, sharing a secretive smile with his Knight.
It wasn't a well-known fact that Edmund had an army of spies; in fact the only ones who were privy to this information were the other monarchs. The Mice were the best of his intel, for they could squeeze into small corners where others couldn't and find out all the dirty, juicy secrets from around the palace; Dagger and his Wolfpack ran their cartel around town and deep into the woods, the Wolves surprisingly had a knack for blending in and the Crows charmed the skies; using their bird's eye view to catch out anything suspicious.
"Quite, Sire. May I suggest that his Majesty is best put to use his resources towards patrols in the woods tonight? If one were to commit such a crime, one would try to hide the evidence - more appropriately, the murder weapon. A knife in the throat was not all that killed the Count. Those gashes on the skin … it looked animalistic, don't you think? What better place hide things than in the woods where no one trespasses?"
"Intuitive thinking Reep! Thank you," Edmund dismissed. The Mouse ran back up the scaffolding again, joining his comrades high up in the air.
"Caspian, a word?" Edmund said, wincing a smile at the ladies who had suddenly stopped talking and turned their attention towards him in unison like a coven of witches waiting to entrance their prey. Edmund shuddered before he grasped the older King by the elbow and pulled him aside.
"Thank you for that." Caspian sighed with palpable relief, the King looked slight hot under the collar. Edmund couldn't blame him, it was late, he was tired and the last thing he wanted to be doing was questioning a round of noblemen, noblewomen and guards about their whereabouts this night. "I'm having absolutely no luck. All I managed to gather was that Lady Grace and Lord Berthing nearly ... well... have you any luck?" Edmund shared a knowing grimace with Caspian.
"Nothing," Edmund admitted, sounding as defeated as Caspian felt. "We're wasting our time here, for all we know, the culprit could have breached our walls and making their merry escape right now. Good Knight Reep suggested that sending patrols into the woods, I say it's a splendid idea. Who's to say that the culprit is still within the castle walls? Gather our best knights Caspian, we're going for a ride."
"Lumos!" Hermione cast a spell. Brilliant white light leaked out of her wand and flooded the dark woods like a beacon. "Ha-ha!" She laughed with glee. She couldn't believe it! Her dream had been real! Aslan had gifted her with a wand. She twirled on the spot for a moment of absolute satisfaction. She then turned to her bag. Sticking her arm deep inside, she fished for books. One by one, she picked out items, Ron's Deluminator (her heart clenched tightly), a vial of dittany, Defense Against the Dark Arts Volume VI, and finally, by luck, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Sticking everything else back into the bag, she used the tip of her wand to shed some light on the book.
With the practiced ease of well-researched know-how, Hermione flicked through the book, landing on the page that she suspected would give her all the answers. She skim read the passage expertly as she looked for the specific words that would prove her hunch.
'In legends, a banshee was a fairy woman who begins to wail if someone was about to die. They were usually seen as an omen of death and a messenger from another world.
A banshee.
Sally was a banshee.
Hermione knew that she was right. The book backed up her intuitive guess but she needed more proof. With all but a scream and a nightmare to go on, she was in no position to corner Sally and call her out as a mythical creature. Hermione was sure that it was unheard of in Narnia. It may even be associated with sorcery and that would be no good for any of them.
A cold breeze slipped through the air and she shivered.
She knew that she really shouldn't be out in the woods alone; but Hermione Granger, the scholar, had to test out her theory in private. And everyone knew that when Hermione Granger had research to do, there was no reasoning with her.
Besides, for a girl who had faced a troll when she was twelve; who had solved the challenges set by Professors of Hogwarts to help Harry stop Quirrell; who had solved that a Basilisk that was the monster of Slytherin; who had fearlessly used her time-turner to outwit a werewolf and save an endangered animal and supposed dangerous murderer; who stood by her best friend as he fought his way through the trials of the Tri-Wizard Tournament; who had created a rebellion against a Ministry employee who tried to take over Hogwarts; who had bravely fought Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries; who had fought in the First (and Second) Battle of Hogwarts; who had given up her parents and her education (which she had, at one point in her life, deemed more important than death) to go on a quest to find Horcruxes with her best friends - with no real lead to begin with; and for a girl who had since then endured so much pain, physically and emotionally ... the threat of a common thug in the woods of Narnia sounded like child's play.
So here she was, in the middle of the night, deep in the Western Woods, reading a book. Ron and Harry would howl with glee if they knew. They would not let her live down how far she was be willing to go to read a book in private. She had, quite literally, climbed out of the large window by her bedside once she was sure that the Kader men were either asleep or going about their own business.
Having confirmed her initial theory and concluding that she needed to gather more substantiation; she decided to trial the strength of her new wand. This, she reasoned, was perhaps the only time she could practice and train without the risk of being discovered. Hermione conjured some bluebell flames and set them on the ground, illuminating the area around her providing more obscure cover than a bright white light radar that 'Lumos' produced.
'There,' she thought with satisfaction as she transfigured a decently sized log into a dummy, akin to the ones they practiced with at Hogwarts. Now she could really get to work.
In a subsequent quick-fire of spells, Hermione attacked the unassuming, immobile dummy she'd transfigured out of a log. "Incarcerous! ... Levicorpus! ... Relashio! ... Stupefy! ... Expeliarmus! Petrificus Totalus! Confringo! Bombarda!" Hermione gasped and hit the ground as the dummy exploded and rained down with wooden splinters around her. She pulled herself up into sitting position and gazed at the position where the dummy had been with longing.
She missed her friends. She missed Hogwarts. She missed simplicity that had come with school life. Sure, it hadn't all been rainbows and daisies, but more like mass murderers and an evil overlord trying to kill Harry every year; but it had been home, it had been her family. Attacking a conjured practice dummy wasn't the same as battling one that the Room of Requirements provided, one that was mobile, that was slightly more threatening and posed a challenge. To be surrounded by Dumbledore's Army, side by side, fighting for a better future...
Sniffing and wiping a lone tear with slight aggression, Hermione sighed. It would not do her well to sit around and mope, she needed to move past her old life and create a new one here. Harry and Ron were not around anymore, she needed to move on. Hermione thought about the Kader family, how kind they had been to her, taking her in as if she was one of their own. Using that memory, she pulled herself up to full height and chanted:
"Expecto Patronum." Thin wisps of silvery light flew from her wand, but it was incorporeal. Strengthening her thoughts Hermione thought of how proud Harry and Ron would be to see her fight for a new cause, of them in the Gryffindor common room, drinking looted Butterbeer (that Harry and Ron had talked her into having, despite her heavy disapproval), having a laugh with Ginny about the rumours of Harry's hippogriff tattoo...
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" She tried again, using the feeling of happiness rather than just a memory as Harry had taught her. Hermione smiled as an animal leaped out of her wand. She gasped when it turned around to look at her. It wasn't an otter, no her guardian had changed. In front of her was the outline of a Lion, Aslan. Hermione grinned as she walked closer, her Patronus didn't have the same warmth that the real Aslan exuded, but she felt protected nonetheless. She stroked the outline of her Patronus, but the guardian was not looking at her. It was looking past her.
Hermione turned around and found the object that had caught her Patronus' attention.
All colour drained from her face.
Edmund couldn't help the smile that formed on his face as he rode his horse. Riding was his favourite pastime, aside from dueling that was. The way the wind whipped against his face, the smell that overloaded his senses from the surrounding woods - it was as addictive as a drug. Caspian drew up close behind him, not quite able to keep up with Edmund's pace; and had they just been on a leisure ride, Edmund would have taunted him and challenged him - but now was not the time. Sure, riding a dumb beast was not the same as riding Phillip - oh how he missed his friend - but the thrill of a chase had yet to leave Edmund. It was exhilarating.
"See anything?" Caspian asked from behind.
"No!" Edmund called back. The Just King had the best sense of sight around this part of the woods; after all, it legally belonged to him and during the Golden Ages of Narnia. Edmund knew every nook and cranny and ever since he returned, he had been making an effort to familiarise himself with his land that had, not surprisingly, changed over the last millennia.
"Sire, we see something ahead!" Crash the Crow harped from above; he circled back around with his flock. "By th' mane and bless m' wings! Is that Aslan?"
"Wait!" Edmund suddenly said, leaning back on his saddle, pulling on the reins as he slowed down his steed. Dagger and his pack, who had been slightly ahead of them, had stopped.
"What's going on?" Caspian asked Eloy, his protector, who was the Beta in Dagger's pack. The wolves, for some reason, looked afraid and apprehensive. Something both Kings had never witnessed before in their guardians.
"There's something in the woods." Eloy barked to his King.
"It smells of death," Dagger said forebodingly.
"But they say it's Aslan," Caspian spoke with confusion.
The wolves' ears twitched in unison, standing upright.
"What do you hear?" Edmund asked, swiftly dismounting his horse and pulling out both of his finest swords. Caspian and their Knights quickly followed suit.
"Footsteps." Dagger growled, bowing into a defensive position, preparing to jump onto whatever was heading their way. Edmund gripped tighter onto his swords, his knuckles turned white with anticipation. Edmund and Caspian walked in front of their subjects, ready to draw first blood as finally the sound of footsteps fell on their human ears. The Crows flew ahead, trying to catch sight of what was headed in their direction.
Edmund frowned at the speed at which the footsteps were falling; something extremely fast was coming towards them.
A twig snapped under her foot and shattered the eerie silence.
Hermione froze, her heart pounding violently in her chest and ears. Her breath hitched as she stared at the monster front of her. Her Patronus disappeared in wisps of silvery light, having done its job of alerting her of the danger.
The monster, at first glance she'd believed, was Fluffy – the three-headed-dog, but that was before she'd spotted that the second and third heads that closely resembled a dragon's and goat's. The enormous mound of spikes and horns began to unfurl as the beast lifted its considerable mass into the air on four powerful feline limbs. It arched its back and stretched. Bulging muscles quivered and slid back and forth beneath the translucent decaying skin. Two gigantic leathery wings, ribbed with long clawed digits, extended in a show of power, blocking out what little light of the cold grey sky remained. The beast turned in the direction of the sound and six blazing eyes locked onto her, chilling her soul.
A small gasp escaped her lips as she instinctively began to stagger backwards in a blind panic. Her body grew numb and her legs buckled like jelly. The left outer head was reptilian, covered with scales and bony plates, reminding her of the Hungarian Horntail. Thick sharp horns adorned both heads, and the jaws were filled with uniform hooked teeth, perfect for shearing and tearing. These were heads of brute force and mindless animal blood lust. But the centre head was the one that filled her with the most terror. Cold, calculating blood-red eyes betraying a deep intelligence within; and for a moment she felt as though she was staring straight at Voldemort, but it couldn't be ...
The outer heads hissed and snarled with animal frenzy, the mammalian one let out a deep, low growling rumble, not of instinct, but of raw emotion.
The beast took a few casual steps forwards, padding silently on the muddy ground. It paused, raising all three heads and sniffed the air. The outer heads snapped with fury and frustration but were somehow held back by the snarling middle head.
Cautiously, on wobbly feet, she took slow steps back, one by one, as she attempted to create distance from the creature. It was smiling sinisterly at her. Fear clutched her heart. She was wrong. She hadn't faced the worst horrors at Hogwarts. This was worse; much worse, Fluffy seemed like a commonly trained housedog compared to this beast.
It was crippling fear that stole the scream that so desperately wanted to escape her throat.
The monster crept closer, menacingly following her step for step, and so Hermione did what any sane person would do: she turned around and ran.
Blood pounded in her ears, growing louder and faster as though it was palpitating to the beat of a drum.
Every step she took thundered loudly in her ears. The snap of the twigs underneath her feet seemed like a clash of thunder. The swoosh of the wind against her face felt like as harsh as the winter weather. Tears, caused by the whipping wind or perhaps from her undulated terror, ran down her cheeks.
Through all these effects, the woods remained silent and suddenly, she found herself back in the woods with Harry and Ron running away from Snatchers.
Without looking back and with the precision of a trained Auror, Hermione cast some non-verbal spells, instinctually knowing that they would meet their target. Her pace, however, did not slow. She glanced over her shoulder to confirm that it had hit her mark, but all she could see was darkness. Glinting red eyes that belonged to the beast was not present. A thrill of adrenaline passed through her, and a small grace of victory filled her. She had managed to outrun it. And then, just as swiftly, the smile disappeared. How could she have outrun the beast? With its mass and wings, it should have caught her the second she started her escape. Her pace stuttered and dread slowly started to creep in. She turned back around and shrieked as something attacked her from the side.
Hermione coughed and wheezed as the wind left her lungs, leaving her feeling breathless. But even that was the least of her worries as she blinked away the disorientated tears in her eyes; fearing the crimson eyes that she would be staring into.
...They were calculating grey.
Hermione inhaled sharply. This was no monster, it was a wolf – and it looked ready to eat her. Could this night get any worse?
"You, girl!" The Wolf spoke.
Hermione blinked blearily at it, all rational thoughts having left her. That's right. She was in Narnia … where the animals could talk. It would have been wrong for her to roll her eyes at what a parody her life was at that moment, so she controlled her urge.
"Let me handle her," someone commanded from the shadows. The voice was gruff, deep and sounded human; but in Narnia you never knew what you would run into as Hermione was having the misfortune of finding out tonight. However, the voice did sound familiar.
The Wolf seemed to listen to whoever it was and all of a sudden Hermione found herself being hoisted through the air, being tugged painfully by the elbow before being thrust against the trunk of a tree. She would have moved and fought back had she not found a sharp sword against her neck. She eyed it wearily before looking at the owner.
The instant she looked into the familiar pair of paler grey eyes, that were catching the moonlight reflection off the sword, Hermione knew who her captor was. The Just King growled at her, baring his teeth menacingly, imitating his pet wolf, - which seemed extremely intimidating under the moon's glare.
"King Edmund," she gasped, straining her neck away from the sharp sword.
The King faltered slightly in his stance as he realised who he was dealing with, he blinked owlishly once, twice and then:
"Miss Granger?" He asked with recognition, though his grip on his sword tightened warningly, letting her know that she was still in danger.
"Edmund, you know her?" Caspian said from beside him, not connecting Hermione's last name to the girl who he had met a couple weeks back.
"What are you doing here?" He snarled; distrust flooding through his voice, his sword was a hair's breath away from making an incision on her skin.
"We need to get out of here!" Hermione tried to warn, not answering his question. There was no time!
"Don't evade the question. Were you the one in the castle tonight?" He interrogated.
"No, you need to understand, we really need to leave!" Hermione tried again, the desperation in her voice grew by the second.
"My Lord, I ... I can bare witness to the fact that Hermione was not in the castle this evening. She was with my family, at home." Hermione, restricted by the sword, could not turn her head to see her rescuer but she recognised the voice.
"Oliver!" She gasped.
"... But as for what she is going here - I cannot tell you." There was a hard inflection in his tone and Hermione winced, knowing that she was in trouble for disobeying house rules.
"I - you - we need to leave!"
"You keep repeating that, but you haven't explained why," Edmund said though his sword had moved away from her neck. At least she was no longer in danger of being decapitated ... only the threat of a three-headed monster remained.
"Because-"
"Sire!"
Edmund and Hermione turned. Edmund paled considerably; which was a mean feat - as the King, though slightly olive by the Narnian summer was still as pale as the moon in comparison to other Telmarines. Hermione picked up her discarded wand from the ground and hid it in her sleeve with the dexterity and sleight-of-hand a muggle magician would be proud of.
"Because of that." She deadpanned.
"Jadis' saggy tits," Edmund muttered under his breath. Hermione used to reacting to Harry's and Ron's swears, cast him a look of disapproval.
"Ed-" Caspian said, as he stepped away from the beast with apprehension. "Please tell me that this is one of yours." Edmund was known amongst his fellow monarchs for hiring the deadliest and usually considered dark Animals as his agents.
"I'm afraid that I can't, Caspian," was the weak reply. Their eyes widened comically as the dragon opened its mouth. "Oh, hell."
Edmund grabbed Hermione and threw her underneath him as they all dove for cover when the dragonhead breathed fire. Their chests brushed against one another's as they heaved for air that had been winded from their lungs. Hermione blushed as she found herself flushed against her King's body. Her breasts brushed against his cold chainmail but his warmth seeped through her thin clothes.
"Thanks," she whispered as she looked into his obsidian eyes. She frowned; she could have sworn that they had been a pale grey shade a moment ago. The King nodded, his expression was guarded and incomprehensible as he rolled himself off her and pulled her up with him.
"Stay behind this tree," he ordered as he pointed to the large oak tree that he had held her up against earlier.
"I can take care of myself," She replied haughtily, refusing to follow an order.
There was, perhaps, a time when Hermione blindly followed the words of those who were stationed above her with powers of the authority; but that was before Umbridge. She, like many other young adults, grew in character, knowing her strengths and weaknesses and knew what her limits were. She would be damned if she sat behind a tree like a damsel in distress. She was a Gryffindor, through and through, bravery was practically ingrained into every fiber of her being – that, and Harry's terrible influence on her.
"You don't have a sword," he growled at her, annoyed. She found herself pleasantly surprised that he had not used the time old excuse of 'you're a girl', she was pretty sure that she would have smacked him hard if he had.
"Then, give me one of yours," she stated, not backing down, eyeing the two nearly identical swords in his hand. He looked at her with surprise and Hermione belatedly realised that it probably wasn't proper to ask a King to part with his effects. 'I-" she started backtracking; but, surprisingly, he wordlessly handed her his sword, the one that thankfully had a guard she could slip her fingers into for a firmer hold. His fingers remained clasped over hers for longer than they should have been and she found herself to be the one who was stunned. He looked at her and for a moment it looked as though he was finally starting to understand her; though his expression, was otherwise, extremely circumspect. But then he smirked and when his fingers let hers go, as her arm dropped the heavy sword dragged on the ground. She responded by standing taller, proudly sticking her nose in the air.
"Stay behind me and don't draw attention to yourself." He directed, a hint of a smirk still remained, but she found herself nodding along anyway. She mentally rolled her eyes; swords would not even scratch the dragon's hide. It was why the material was used for the best Quidditch and Dueling gear. As soon as he turned away, she puller out her wand and swiftly muttered a feather-light charm on the sword.
Hidden behind the King's towering frame, Hermione had the opportunity to filter her thoughts. What creature were they dealing with? Its DNA was most curious; Hermione had never heard of a mutant with a lion, goat and dragon head. Dragons were sensitive to loud noises and spells. Hermione remembered seeing the handlers tame the Hungarian Horntail after Harry's First Task. They had attacked it with a flurry of offensive spells that would normally tear apart any other target. She then remembered the white dragon at Gringotts, it had been scared into flight with a simple 'Bombarda'. But how was she to cast without alerting those around her? And what of the lion and goat? Think, Hermione, think.
"Was this the Aslan you saw?" Edmund berated his spy, as he ducked from another blaze of fire. The Crow cawed in an apology from above. "Go! Get out of here before it decides to have to for late dinner." Edmund told the small birds, his worry shining through his exasperation.
"We will alert the High King, Your Majesty." Crash squawked as he flew away.
"Edmund, this is futile," Caspian said, as he joined him and Hermione, taking cover behind a tree. "We won't be able to get close enough to make a strike!"
"You need a distraction," Hermione whispered, before repeating herself slightly louder. Hadn't that been how Harry had beaten the basilisk?
"I will not be risking one of my men as bait." Edmund hissed, though silently acknowledged that it might be their only choice. He considered her idea, it was a good suggestion but what was the best way to execute it...?
"Then let me."
Edmund made a grab for her, but being the lithe little thing she was, she dodged and ran towards the beast.
"Has she no sense of self-preservation?" Caspian gaped with disquiet as he peered around the tree, knowing that the girl was as good as dead.
Edmund glowered furiously and stepped out from behind the tree, running in her direction and frowning as he watched her wave his sword around like a hand fan (which was remarkable considering it was made of solid Dwarf Steel), trying to capture the monster's attention.
"Edmund!" Caspian called out with concern, realising too late that his shout was deadly. The beast turned away from attacking a few knights and towards Edmund and Hermione, who were suddenly and unanticipatedly trapped in the clearing with no place to hide.
The King and Witch stilled.
Hermione screamed as a sweep of fire caught her side. Edmund was immediately beside her, using his shield to deflect the rest of the flames. But that had been enough of a distraction, for Oliver had used this opportunity to jump from the tree that he had climbed and onto the beast's back. He attacked the lion's eyes, gauging his sword into the bloody depths of its sockets. The animal howled, now blinded in one eye and then the other. Caspian immediately followed suit, swinging from a vine and found himself atop the goat; soon, the second head was blinded. The beast thrashed around, the last head flailed, throwing short bursts of flames in all directions, trying to throw Caspian and Oliver off its back. The other Knights and Animals joined in the pursuit, now attacking the right side of the blinded beast with reckless abandon whilst Caspian struggled to reach the third head.
Edmund looked down at the whimpering girl beside him, and a fire grew in his eyes. He picked up his abandoned swords and stalked towards the monster with purpose. (It would only be later, as he sat in the confines of his solar, that Edmund would wonder why, in that moment, had his second best sword had felt as light as a feather.) Just as Caspian blinded the third head, Edmund spun fiercely and cast the fatal blow piercing into the monster's heart with a roar. In his fervour, he and everyone else missed the small, but powerful, ball of red light that hurtled towards the beast's heart at the same time. The animal let out a scream and disintegrated with a puff of black smoke. Caspian and Oliver let out a yelp as they hurtled towards the ground; the Wolf pack flattened themselves against the ground to break their fall.
"Sorcery," Dagger growled from beside him, looking at the spot where the large footprints of the beast remained as the only evidence of its existence. Edmund frowned darkly. What in Aslan's mane was going on in Narnia?
He turned his head, and remembered about Hermione, he met her eyes and walked back towards her.
"That was a foolish thing to do!" Edmund berated as he knelt beside her.
"But it worked," she wheezed, coughing as she rested her head back on the ground, a small smile forming on her face despite the pain.
"Yes, I suppose it did." Edmund spared a smile. Hermione latently thought how nice he looked with a smile. It brightened his face, making him seem more youthful.
"Hermione!" Oliver and Derrick were by her side now. "What in Aslan's name were you thinking?" They asked together, eerily mimicking their twin brothers.
"She wasn't," Caspian replied as he joined the group. "Best we get her back to the castle, Ed. That needs to be looked at by a healer." Caspian nodded towards the bleeding gash on Hermione's side where the fire had burned through her clothes and scorched her skin.
"She'll ride with me," Edmund said, with a no-nonsense tone. Oliver and Derrick looked at him with surprise. "Can you stand?" He asked Hermione, ignoring the look he was receiving from Caspian.
Hermione nodded, letting out a small gasp of pain as she took Oliver's outstretched hand, pulling herself up. She winced, as she leant into Oliver's hold, her side was agonisingly tender.
The King stood by his horse, holding onto the stirrups to help Hermione onto the horse but the brunette witch simply walked past him, slipping her foot into the stirrup and threw her leg over the animal with practiced ease. She'd had horse riding lessons as a young girl; that was one of the most privileged parts of her upbringing before Hogwarts. Hermione remained oblivious to the stunned looks she received from the men around her as her eyes were closed in pain. Caspian shot Edmund an amused smile as the King lowered his raised eyebrow before he hoisted himself up to sit in front of her.
The other riders followed suit, feeling lethargic and fragmented as they prepared for the ride home, just as the sun was coming up.
Edmund snapped his reins against the horse and they were off.
Hermione, who had been struggling to keep her eyes open, was taken back by the speed at which the King took pace, she gripped his waist out of fear of falling off. She remained incognizant to the sudden tenseness in the King's body throughout then entire journey.
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A.N./ Wow! You guys are amazing! I had five reviews for the last chapter so thank you to my stars: Royal Lemur, AliceinWonderland13, LiTori, Comic Critic and Utrix. Thank you so much, also, to all of those people who have Followed and Favourited my story so far! You guys are the best. :)
I hope you all are enjoying the pace of this story and the direction it is headed in. Let me know if any of you have any ideas on what might be happening in Narnia right now ... I wonder if someone has a theory that matches my plot ...