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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

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𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒 drifted over the area as the White Witch and her dark procession made their way through the camp. The witch sat atop of a heavy looking chair that rested upon two sturdy and horizontal laying poles. The improvised throne was carried on the shoulders of four cyclops and their teeth were bared in an inaudible growl as they scowled at the booing thrown their way by the Narnians.

The witch herself looked peaceful, almost bored, while her white dress stood oddly out compared with the vibrant colours of the encampment. A crown made of ice crystals sparkled atop of her head, and Edmund had to suppress a shiver when her light eyes fell on him. A tiny smirk played around her pale lips, but then she focussed on the lion sitting in front of the red pavilion as the cyclops lowered the improvised throne.

The witch rose up from her seat. 'You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan,' she said, and while an uneasy ripple traveled through the Narnians, the lion silenced them by shaking his mane.

'His offense was not against you,' Aslan answered, a dangerous undertone lingering in his voice.

'Have you forgotten the Deep Magic?' the witch asked in a condescending manner and Aslan growled.

'Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, witch. I was there when it was written.'

'Then you should know it well. Every traitor belongs to me.'

Peter boiled with anger, and the fear of losing his younger brother to the White Witch again made him unable to think clearly. He unsheathed his sword, stepped in front of Edmund and raised his sword. 'Try and take him, then.' His blue eyes glinted dangerously but it wavered when the witch simply scoffed at his actions.

'Do you really think you can deny me my right by mere force, little king? Aslan knows that unless I have blood as the law says, all of Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water. That boy will die on the Stone Table.' The witch pointed an accusing finger on Edmund whose eyes grew fearfully wide, and Jadis grinned in triumph.

'Enough,' Aslan growled. 'I shall talk with you alone.'

The lion disappeared into his pavilion and the witch followed with her chin held high. The red flap fell back over the tent opening and some uneasy murmurs arose as the Narnians and the witch's creatures were forced to wait together.

Peter slid his sword back into its sheath and crossed eyes with Edmund who still stood behind him. Susan laid a comforting hand on her younger brother's shoulder, but all waited anxiously for Aslan's return.

However, as time ticked forth, it became evident it would be quite a while until the leaders of the opposite armies would come to an agreement. Some of the Narnians, the Pevensies and Summers slowly started to sit down to spare their legs from the long wait.