𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 || Edmund Pevensie

Prologue

" I'm not going to die. Not today. "

OLIVIA TWIRLED and danced to the enchanting rhythm, her movements perfectly synchronized with the two towering trees. She weaved her arms with the lively dwarfs, gracefully skipping from side to side, spinning and pirouetting joyfully. Her laughter, infectious and melodic, filled the air, echoing through the crowd of magical creatures who surrounded her.

At that moment, nothing else mattered but Olivia, the swaying trees, the enchanting music, and the resounding applause and cheers from the magical folks. The night embraced them all while the moon beamed down as if eager to join the festivities. These were the moments that would forever be etched in Olivia's memory when she allowed herself to let go and find solace in the purest form of joy.

Despite the ongoing war and the looming threat of the White Witch, the Narnian dances remained a beacon of cheerfulness. In these gatherings, the animals could momentarily forget about the dangers that plagued their land and celebrate the very essence of their existence.

Each Narnian song possessed its own unique dance and rhythm, prompting constant changes in steps and dance partners. The crowd formed a circle around the roaring fire; their hands interlocked as they swirled in unison. With a sudden halt to the music, the crowd erupted in applause and wide smiles. Tumnus, the faun, raised his flute to his lips, and a new melody filled the air, reigniting the fervour of the dance.

Times were undeniably difficult for the Narnians, and both Aslan and Queen Olivia understood that patience was their only ally. There were no prophecies to challenge, no immediate solutions to defeat Jadis. The animals' trust in one another was gradually waning as safe havens dwindled. They had already lost the Minotaurs, the dwarfs, the Cyclops, the giants, and even the wolves. Each loss chipped away at their faith, leaving them disheartened and vulnerable.

Yet, within that fleeting moment of happiness, even the darkest of creatures would have melted. All worries and troubles dissolved into the night, leaving only pure elation and genuine laughter. The spirited dances and jubilant cheers bridged gaps between the most ancient of foes, reminding all of the enduring traditions that brought them together.

But then, a shift occurred. The wind, once a gentle breeze, grew in strength with each passing second. The creatures, one by one, ceased their dances, their gazes scanning the surroundings. The trees reverted to statues, standing silent and motionless. The animals sensed that even the trees themselves were being taken away from them.

Amidst the stillness, Olivia alone continued to dance. Her chestnut hair whipped around her face as a gust of wind tugged at her dress. It was only when the fire extinguished that her feet stilled, her body turning towards the now empty hearth. Her furrowed eyebrows conveyed a deep analysis of the scene before her.

Beside her, Piple, the badger, appeared, his eyes fixed on the scene as well. They both pondered the sudden cessation of the wind, which had extinguished the once blazing fire. In the absence of the usually easy-to-find dwarfs and minotaurs, realization pierced through Olivia's mind. The celebration was meant to be peaceful, devoid of regret and animosity.

"Return to the camp. Warn Aslan. She is coming," Olivia instructed Oreius, the centaur, standing steadfast by her side. He nodded, raising his sword with loyalty to his queen.

"The camp!" echoed the crowd, following the centaur general, leaving Olivia and Piple alone. The queen wasted no time, adjusting her bag firmly on her shoulders.

"Your Majesty, aren't you coming too?" Piple's voice trembled, her front paws clasped together in nervousness. It wasn't that Olivia appeared angry or dismissive, but Piple's natural anxiety made her apprehensive to address the queen directly.

"I could say the same, Piple," Olivia replied, retrieving her bow and arrows from the trunk of a fallen tree. 

" But... I cannot leave your majesty to die! " Piple exclaimed, bringing her paws to her chest. 

" I am not going to die. Not today. " Olivia replied. An idea sparked within her.

"Listen closely," Olivia began, stepping closer to Piple. The badger leaned in, curious about the queen's intentions. "Take my crown to Aslan. Inform him that I embark on a quest. He will understand," she continued, removing the crown from her head and gently placing it in Piple's paws. "Please, I request this as your queen."

Piple sighed, her eyes fixed on the crown before nodding resolutely. She carefully cradled the crown, using the fabric at hand to protect it on her journey back to the camp.

"Be safe," Olivia said, placing her hand on Piple's delicate shoulder.

"You too, my queen."

With a shared understanding, the two companions bid each other farewell. Olivia ventured deep into the woods, her determination guiding her path, while Piple retraced her steps toward the camp.

"Future kings and queens, it is finally our time to come together," Olivia whispered to herself, her voice carried away by the rustling wind.