A Prison of Ice and Fear || Peter Pevensie x OC || Narnia

Chapter 2

The woods are dim as snow drifts softly across the sky. The bare trees coated in white powder and brilliant blue icicles. The skin of my fingertips is red with chill, my fur-lined gloves stuffed deep in the pockets of my white fur coat.

When all falls quiet in the wood, I let the tendrils of my magic unfurl, twisting and twining through the cold winter air. The gold of my magic is pale, more akin to a light, almost white, colour. The trees lean towards my magic, pulling it towards themselves. I feel my muscles loosen and my nerves smooth as the magic flows through my veins.

Suddenly a twig snaps. My magic recoils, pulling back to me with a whiplike snap.

I sprint on silent feet across the snow to hide behind a powder-covered log. Pulling up the hood of my white coat, I'm virtually invisible. My eyes dart through the trees seeking out the sound.

A small creature couldn't have made a sound that large. It had to have been a dwarf, or perhaps a small faun. My eyes catch on the soft glowing light of the lamppost.

There.

Someone wanders around the base of the post, their body language strange...almost curious. I sneak closer, staying low to the ground, my coat swishing lightly across the snow. I press myself against a solid birch, the wet cold of the snow soaking into my gown. The figure turns; she's small, only about the size of a full-grown dwarf, her face rounded and jovial with youth. A strange creature indeed. 

The little female turns away from me, taking in her surroundings. I was tempted to move closer, desperate to reach out and touch her. Just as I was about to break through the tree line a faun rounds the corner.

Both he and the girl scream and startle, stumbling away from each other. I pressed my lips together, silencing my breath while I watch their exchange.

The girl presses herself against the lamp post as if its thin base could shield her. Her palpable fear turns to that familiar curiosity as she carefully walks forward. Snow crunching under her small shoes. Her clothing seems strange and impractical for Narnia.

Some Narnians wear next to nothing, of course, like the faun now watching the girl from around the tree. His chest is bare, and a bright red scarf is slung around his neck. His legs, like all other fauns, are goat-like and covered in hair. He seems young, considering his horns only just poke through his shaggy crop of hair, and the hair on his chin is short and well-kept.

The girl starts to speak, and I strain to hear.

"Were you hiding from me?" She asks, her voice soft and light.

The faun stammers some response about not wanting to scare her. He seems totally on edge, as though trying to assure himself of something. Find figurative ground to stand on. Clearly he was just as confused as I on who, or what, this female was.

"If you don't mind my asking, what are you?" The female asks cautiously, though I could sense a hint of humour in her voice.

Fauns are incredibly common, especially in these parts.

How can she not know?

"Well, I," the male hesitates, taken aback. "Well, I'm a faun. And what are you?" He asks in return. "You must be some kind of...beardless dwarf."

"I'm not a dwarf, I'm a girl!" The girl laughs. "And actually, I'm tallest in my class."

"Do you mean to say that you're a daughter of Eve?" The faun asks quickly.

My breath catches in my throat, it can't be. The girl mutters some response about her mother but is cut off by the faun.

"Yes, but you are, in fact, human?"