Fauns dancing around fires. Griffins soaring high. Unicorns galloping across wide fields and centaurs battling giants.
These are things Amelia Cromwell sees every day.
She doesn't know how they happen or why she sees them but every time she looks...
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Amelia and Edmund sat in silence as the day slowly progressed. The midday sunlight had turned into a last ray of warmth while the sun started to fade. The clearing by the welding area had a greyish hue to it from all the ash that encircled them. It made the environment all the more depressing.
Edmund was shuffling around on the floor behind her, trying to change his position to ease his aching back. Amelia could understand his discomfort; the rough bark of the tree that separated them scratched her back no matter how small of a move she made. Their bounds that secured them to the barrel-shaped sapling were so tight that the tree was encircled by their shoulder blades- the rope pulled them so far back that Amelia could constantly feel Edmund's own shoulders rocking as he tried to adjust himself.
The sound of crunching leaves broke the silence as the witch's dwarf escort- she had heard some of the trolls refer to him as 'Ginarrbrik'- entered the small clearing. He saw Edmund squirming uncomfortably and smiled a sickly-sweet grin.
"Is our little Prince uncomfortable?" As he spoke his next words he shoved his sleeve full of dragging cotton tuffs in Edmund's face, "Does he want his pillow fluff?"
Amelia grew uneasy as the dwarf continued to encircle them. Edmund's grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly. She could see him gaze at Ginarrbrik with a weary look out of the corner of her eye.
The dwarf continued to taunt Edmund, "Special treatment for the special boy!" Amelia let out a slight growl as he got up into Edmund's face, his odour travelling its way up her nose. Her face crinkled in disgust as the smell of burning wood and decaying carcasses overwhelmed her, "Isn't that what you wanted?"
To Amelia's relief, the dwarf backed away slightly before he came around to her side of the tree, his eyes full of anger and resentment, "Puny little human boy, you are worth nothing. A traitor you are and so you shall fall by her majesty's hand at the Stone Table, as the law states." The dwarf's words hung in the air as Amelia looked at him defiantly. She felt powerless as she strained against her bonds and tried to yell profanities at him, but to no avail.
"The traitor and his accomplice, the Narnian who is lost in her own country. The pathetic result of what should've been an explosion of power on the fields of Aslan." To her surprise, he drew his dagger and held it against her neck. Amelia's heart pounded in her ears and she tried not to more for fear of getting her throat slit. Edmund was angrily shuffling behind her, "A weak little Narnian who is about as special as a human." Amelia grunted at him but only muffled sounds escaped the cloth in her mouth. A deep anger was building up inside her at the dwarf's words, but he also spurred a river of confusion, A Narnian who is lost in her own country? The words made about as little sense as magic wardrobes to her.
The dwarf stalked off and silence fell once more. Edmund gave her hand a light squeeze and she returned it. She was comforted by his presence, though she knew there was little they could do to escape. All their hopes lay with Aslan and their friends who were across the country.
