Narnia: The Fallen Angel

16 || Meltdown

Quick warning: kind of emotional chapter...and I didn't proof read as usual. (oh well I'm sorry)

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(Crystalline's POV)

It was definitely past midday, and by the looks of the patches I left in the soil from ripping out the grass, I won't be stopping anytime soon. How long have I been sitting in the same spot? I am not even angry anymore; I am annoyed. Whatever they are discussing in Aslan's tent, I hope it involves Jadis' funeral arrangements.

I cringed at how gruesome I was acting. I never got so out of hand like this. It's probably my emotions, I told myself as the thought of my heart came to mind. Bipolar seemed to be a reasonable label on me with my whirling emotions and uncontrollable outbursts. It worries me that I might end up hurting someone I care for; someone like Peter.

The rough sound of a tent flap opening drew me out of my thoughts and turned my attention to Jadis. Whatever anger that was stored away, quickly came rushing back as I stood up along with the camp. Everyone waited in anticipation as the witch sent a glare towards Edmund and I. No words were uttered, but the expression on her face said it all; she was pleased.

Why?

She stepped down the mound and went to her throne just as Aslan made his way out of the tent. He stood by me with a solemn expression on his face and looked to the Pevensies momentarily. I too looked at them, and their anxiety and stress was written all over their faces. They looked at Aslan with expectancy, and a glint of fear as I heard him sigh next to me.

"She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood." Aslan announced to the crowd before us. They all cheered, giving each other hugs and kisses of joy. I, myself was ecstatic, but the chilling sound of her voice breaking the thin air was enough to bring a frown onto my face.

"How do I know your promise will be kept?!" She yelled at Aslan. Immediately, Aslan roared at her, his teeth baring and his mouth wide open. His mane grew and his stance strengthened, as if to show Jadis where she stands; below his feet. Out of fear, she sat down on her thrown silently and the crowd let out another cheer of victory, but I wasn't celebrating.

I looked to Aslan curiously and followed him into his tent, although I got the sense that he wanted to be alone. The sounds of the joyous camp outside of the tent didn't seem to follow us in. It was silent as I watched the lion before me. Aslan wasn't facing me, his head slumping slightly and his tail dragging against the rugs under us.

"Why aren't you celebrating?" I asked him quietly. He didn't respond. Instead, he moved towards me and nestled his face into my abdomen. I knew there were no words to be spoken for a while, so I settled on comforting the mourning lion. I petted his mane, occasionally humming a quiet melody under my breath.

After hours of comforting him I still don't understand his great deal of grief, but I sensed it. It wafted off of him and consumed the air around us. Even the song on the breeze outside was one of mourning. No one could hear it; they were all too busy playing cheerful music and celebrating. They were filling themselves up with the idea that a future king will stay alive, but not on the fact that their true king was in seclusion and drowning in sorrow.

I don't blame them; they are not with the burdens of the past and future. They don't have a prophecy on their backs that can determine whether they live or die. All they have is Narnia, and oh how blessed they are with just that. Hearing Aslan painfully huff, I pulled him away from me and knelt before him. The sight before me terrified me.