𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘 || peter pevensie [3]

chapter four ~ the beginning of the end

"You don't have to do this. You know you can still back out, tell them that I forced you to say those things and they'll believe you."

"You've told me that a thousand times," Aliona huffed, but Maria knew that the stress wasn't directed towards her, that it masked something else. "And I've told you a thousand times, we're in this together, until the very end."

"Quiet!" A short, sharp command rang through the damp, stone dungeon tunnel. "Hands where I can see them."

They obeyed, and a hard-faced Elites came forward with a length of rough rope for Maria's wrists to be bound. Aliona, being an Elite, had the luxury of silver chains with leather padded cuffs. Another Elite with white-blonde hair appeared with a pile of silks in her arms. Aliona had requested that Maria also be allowed the Elite's right to choose the clothes in which she would die. Maria thought the only reason they had agreed was because of her mother.

As they stood still in the low light, Maria and Aliona were carefully stripped of their standardized prisoner robes and redressed for the ceremony. Maria had chosen something similar to what the dryads had made for her on her first visit to Narnia; a dusty pink silk gown, with flowers scattered on the skirt, and a golden loop around her neck to hold up the front of the dress. She had been allowed to keep the ring and the pendant on the chord necklace, a possible attempt to show the Elites' 'mercy'. She pulled it off, slid the ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand, and retied the chord. She made sure that the Firesong emblem was tucked in next to her heart.

In the distance, the sound of metal gates slamming open echoed through the tunnel down to the dungeon cells. Aliona began to cry, little sobs that shook her body as Maria finished lacing up the back of her dress. The guard with the rope stepped forward and made to take hold of Maria's wrists but she slapped his hands away. Ignoring the other Elites around them who set their hands on their weapons, she turned Aliona around to face her.

"I know you're afraid, but you mustn't cry. They want to humiliate us, make us beg for our lives, so that no one dares to speak against them again. But we can't give them what they want. We have to be brave."

Aliona sniffed loudly and nodded. "I think I can do that."

"I know you can. You're one of the bravest people I have ever know. I'm so proud of you," Maria said, and pulled the girl into a hug. "We cannot fear the inevitable."

When she pulled away, the Elites could not bind their hands fast enough. The rope irritated the papery skin of Maria's wrists, but she held her head high, every nerve in her body steady. Aliona dried her tears on her bare arms and tossed her silvery-white hair from her face.

At the order of the Elite wardens, the two young women began the slow walk to their end. Maria shuffled, bare-foot, over the cold, stone floor to where it bled into a dirt path littered with small, sharp rocks, and the light from the outside filtered into the tunnel. Having been out of the sunlight for neither knew how long, both Maria and Aliona squinted but couldn't raise their hands to shield their eyes.

Led by the rope, Maria stepped up onto the platform which had been built in the middle of the town square. The chains that held Aliona clinked softly behind her. The young women were forced to their knees, their heads lifted roughly by the executioners, so that they were forced to stare over the crowd of people who had gathered to watch. There were a few Elite towards the back, but most were People, faces Maria recognised, eyes filled with sorrow.

Maria was surprised when her hands were untied, but it wasn't as if she could run, nor did she want to. Aliona's chains, too, fell heavy on the wooden stage. In her prereferral vision, she could see the Elite desperately trying not to shake as she stared with ferocity at the few of her kind watching. Maria reached out her right hand towards the young Elite and hoped to Aslan that the executioners would let them have this, at the very least.

More footsteps over the platform, and a harsh-voiced Elite began reading out the charges, but Maria soon blanked out her words. She stared out at the crowd, defiantly locking eyes with several Elite men and women. Just like her mother, just like her father, she would keep her dignity until the end.

And, inevitably, her thoughts came to rest on the young man that she loved. His strange hair and his determined eyes. How she had longed to see him again, how she had held on to just enough hope that it might happen. How, now, that hope was gone.

Only when she felt the cool metal of a blade against her throat did she fully return to her senses. Of all the battles she had fought, of all the times when she had been able to fight back, she thought this moment would terrify her more than anything. But she already knew what it felt like to lose everything. What was her life compared to a kingdom; a home; a family?

A pain seared through her and she took it in silence. She felt the hot liquid run down her neck, her body falling forwards when her hair was let free of the executioner's gasp.

But she never let go of Aliona's hand. Not as she felt herself slipping away.

Not as she strained to stay conscious to hear the gunshot that marked the end for her only friend in this world. The friend who had left behind everything, condemned herself to death so that the future might be better.

As Aliona's lifeless body dropped next to hers, Maria finally let her eyes close.

It was done.

➳

Peter watched Lucy as she sat cross-legged on the concrete floor, sketchbook in hand, pencilling a blossoming tree at the end of the train station platform. He sat on a bench a few feet away with his brother, Edmund. Neither of them had spoken for a while.

Just as he always did, Peter closed his eyes every time a train went past, letting the breeze that followed fill his mind with images of white sand and blue skies. And then the image faulted, like wireless static.

Peter opened his eyes and glanced at Edmund, an cold sliver of anxiety slipped down his throat to his stomach.

"What's wrong?" Edmund asked.

Peter looked away, biting the inside of his lip. "Something terrible has happened."

"Nothing's even happened yet, Pete. Everything's going to be fine."

"Not here," Peter whispered, unable to solidly place the feeling. "Somewhere...else."

Edmund placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. He looked as if he were about to say something but quickly decided against it. Peter knew his thoughts had gone to the Lady of the Island, and that neither of them dared hope that this whole endeavour might lead them to meet her once again.

He looked at his watch. The train was due imminently. Peter could hear it in the distance. Calling over to Lucy, the two brother's stood, hitching their bags up onto their shoulders.

"Is this our train?" Lucy asked, frowning.

"I think so," Peter replied, mirroring his sister's expression.

But the train was approaching too hard, too fast. The three Pevensies exchanged nervous glances and Peter felt Lucy's hand slip into his.

"It's okay, Lu," he said, but had little hope of convincing her when he wasn't even sure himself. Edmund offered his hand and she took it.

The Pevensies clung to each other tightly, the wind whipping at their cheeks as the train came crashing towards the station.