~By the Lion's Mane~ >A Narnian Fanfiction<

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

 One morning, I settled down to practice on my own. I mounted Anduril and practiced battle maneuvers with him, wheeling around on the field, slashing my sword at imaginary enemies. Suddenly, the quiet spring morning was interrupted by the harsh sound of some kind of horn. Then from the center of camp I heard a gruff voice calling, "Make way, make way! Make way for the true Queen of Narnia!" The name sent chills down my spine. Andy snorted. Without any direction from me, he flew down the hill towards the middle of camp.

When we arrived, there was silence except from the sound of the White Witch's slaves and the few soldiers she'd brought with her. They were hideous creatures, and the hulking form of a minotaur lumbered by. The Witch herself was in a chair carried by several Cyclops slaves. She spoke sharply, and they gently set it on the ground. She stood, tall and harshly, cruelly beautiful, as she waited for the Great Lion. As I watched, I trembled with white-hot anger. It blinded my reason and took over my body, and I slowly drew my sword from its sheath. Now was my chance to avenge Bauchan, to make her pay for what she had done to him and to me.

I pushed through the crowd slowly but purposefully, trying to get to her. But a strong hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned and saw Peter standing behind me. He didn't meet my eyes, instead keeping his on Jadis, but he shook his head. My breathing still labored, I slowly put away my sword, still trembling with hate.

At this moment, Aslan stepped forward. The Witch didn't waste any time. She glanced at where Edmund stood next to Peter and Lucy and Susan and me.

She spoke, her voice cutting through the expectant silence like a blade. "You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan."

I exchanged a quick glance with the others as the other Narnians murmured.

"His offense was not against you," Aslan said, his rich voice soothing to us.

"Have you forgotten the laws on which Narnia was built?" the Witch spat.

Aslan snarled at her, his golden eyes narrowing. "Do not cite the Deep Magic at me, Witch! I was there when it was written," he rumbled menacingly.

Jadis gave a small smile. "Then you'll remember well that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property."

I felt my eyes widen as I looked at Peter. He had the same expression on his face as me, and so did his other siblings.

He drew his sword with a flash and pointed it at her. "Try and take him then!" he challenged.

One of Jadis' followers, an armored Minotaur, held his wicked axe aloft with a growl.

"Peter!" I whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder as he had done to me only a few moments before. He merely shrugged it off.

Jadis was unconcerned. "Do you really think that mere force will deny me my right?" she asked. Her tone was careless, as if Peter's threat was only slightly amusing to her.

Peter clenched his jaw and didn't reply.

"Silly little king," Jadis said with a smile of ice. She turned back to Aslan, dismissing Peter altogether.

"As Aslan knows, unless I have blood as the Law demands, all of Narnia will be overturned, and perish in fire and water," she announced to the entire congregation. Everyone broke out in fearful murmurs, wondering what was to be done.

"That boy," Jadis said, pointing at Edmund, "will die on the Stone Table!"

I looked to Edmund and saw that he was looking back and forth between Aslan and Jadis and his brother. He was afraid. Jadis saw this and added, softer and with a smile, "As is tradition."

"You dare not refuse me!" she threatened at Aslan again.

"Enough," he commanded, and all was silent, waiting for his verdict. "I shall talk with you alone," he said almost inaudibly to the Witch, and motioned her inside his scarlet tent.

What seemed like forever passed. I went and joined the Pevensies where they were sitting on the short grass. Edmund sat quietly with his legs folded up in front of him, his chin resting on his knees. He just stared at the grass.

Susan and Lucy tried to comfort him, hugging him and saying, "Don't worry Ed, Aslan won't let her have you. He can't."

Peter paced back and forth, his face red with frustration. I just chewed my lip, and watched Edmund. He looked so vulnerable and miserable. Nothing like the boy who had been such a pain in the neck earlier. My views toward him softened a little.

"Edmund," I spoke up, and they all looked at me. Edmund's eyes left the patch of grass he had been burning a whole into and scanned my face. "You'll be fine, Edmund. Aslan won't let the Witch have you. Not after all the trouble we've gone through to get you back. And without you, the Prophecy won't be fulfilled. Aslan will think of something. I don't know what, but he won't let her have you back."

His eyes lingered on me for a moment more, and then went back to the grass. I sighed. Well, I tried. Susan and Lucy went back to comforting him. "She's right Edmund; we can't do it without you..."

Just then, Aslan and the Witch emerged from the striped tent, and all rose to their feet again. The Witch wore a blank expression, but as she walked back to her throne and slaves, her gaze lingered on Edmund. However, Aslan's expression seemed... sad.

I could feel everyone holding their breath, wondering what had been decided inside the tent. "She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood," he announced to the anxious camp.

Cheers went up all around, and Lucy and Susan leaped up and hugged Edmund. Peter looked vastly relieved, and also went to join the hug. I smiled, watching the warm display.

But then the Witch shouted, "How do I know your promise will be kept?"

Aslan's mouth curled into a snarl, exposing huge white teeth. He roared, making my eardrums nearly burst. It was one of those sounds you feel inside of you. The Witch sat abruptly, and her troop made their way out of camp to the raucous laughter of the mocking Narnians. I turned back to watch Aslan, and was surprised to see his head low, looking at the ground. He turned slowly away from the crowd, lifting his golden eyes to meet mine once. I was shocked to see how sorrowful they were. I wanted to go to him, but he had already turned and slowly made his way back to his tent, his long golden tail drooping behind him.

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The rest of the afternoon was passed without much event. Everyone was in a jovial mood, smiling and cheering and boasting of how Aslan sure put the Witch in her place. But not me. I knew something had been bothering Aslan. I was up on the hill overlooking the camp when I heard someone call my name. I turned and saw Peter coming up to my boulder.

"Rose," he said again, "What are you doing up here? Why aren't you down in the camp? Are you worrying that I might beat you again in practice tomorrow?" he joked as he sat next to me.

I smiled. This was how it was with Peter. He was always pleasant and friendly to me. Susan and Lucy were the same, and it felt like we were almost like sisters now. Why couldn't Edmund be so nice?

I sighed before answering. "No, that's not it. It's just... Did you notice how Aslan looked after he came out of the tent? Something's not right with him."

Peter frowned and thought for a moment. "Well, I did notice he looked a little unhappy. But who knows; we could just be making a mountain out of a molehill," he grinned at me again. I smiled back, pulling on a tendril of my long red hair. He's probably right, of course. Aslan is a mysterious person anyway...