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

Chapter 9

The sunrise is soft on the horizon as we reach a cliff edge looking out over the terrain. The beavers had us up and walking before dawn, not wanting to stay put anywhere for too long. I'd had perhaps a few hours of fitful sleep, and for a reason I couldn't explain, I had been acutely aware of Peter's presence beside me. Even now, as I walk a few paces behind him, I can't help but notice the way the sunlight gilds his hair or the strong set of his shoulders.

What's wrong with me?

Our group stops, and I gaze at a sight I've never seen before. I had never walked this far before and to see the great frozen river at sunrise, to see all the way to the southern coast, it's breathtaking.

"Now, Aslan's camp is near the stone table, just across the frozen river." Mr. Beaver explains.

"River?" Peter asks sceptically.

"I hear the river's been frozen for a hundred years." I offer breathlessly.

"The river hasn't flowed since the witch began the endless winter." Mrs. Beaver explains.

"But it's so far." Peter sighs.

"It's the world, dear. Did you expect it to be small?" Mrs. Beaver smiles softly.

If only they knew how wide this world truly was. If only they knew what lay across the sea to the south.

We set off down the mountain to a great plain. Now, this was dangerous; we had to make it from one side to the other without any cover and without being spotted.

The Beavers move quickly on four legs, light enough to hardly make a dent in the snow. I can tell the Pevensies aren't used to walking so far in the snow, and their steps seem laborious as we continue our trek. I'm not as quick as the beavers, but I keep pace ahead of the humans.

Mr. Beaver pesters the group to hurry more than once, humour clear in his voice.

I hear Peter pipe up, "If he tells us to hurry up one more time, I'm going to turn him into a big, fluffy hat."

I look back with a laugh as Peter hoists Lucy onto his back. He looks up at me, flicking the hair out of his eyes and grins. I smile back but quickly turn my head as I feel a blush creep onto my cheeks.

Mr. Beaver hurries us again and I can't help but roll my eyes until Mrs. Beaver cries out, "No! Behind you, it's her!"

I snap my head back sharply, only for a moment, before stumbling forward into a run. I can hear the Pevensies break into a run behind me, Lucy crying out in fear. The Beavers are shouting, and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as my feet beat the frozen earth.

I knew this was dangerous, I knew it was a risk but this couldn't be the end. It couldn't end this way.

I knew Jadis' reindeer, they're quick as lightning when pushed. I know she's closing in, and my stomach flips with nausea. The treeline rears up to meet us, and the beavers keep running deeper into the woods.

Suddenly Mr. Beaver makes a sharp turn and disappears. I follow quickly and press myself into the tiny alcove they've found. The snow bank is well camouflaged. I can only hope well enough. Peter, Susan and Lucy barrel in behind me, pressing in close.

Perhaps sheer terror is written on my face because Peter, keeping one arm wrapped around his youngest sister, clasps my hand firmly. I look down at our entwined fingers and then back at him, wondering if he felt the same little spark I did.

Not the time for delusions.

I reprimand myself but squeeze his hand in return. Our collective breathing sounds too loud in my ears. Too harsh. Too noticeable.