𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 || peter pevensie [2]

chapter three ~ what remains

Nimueh knew of the three Ancient Places of Narnia. The Dryads of Firesong had told her the origin stories of each, and whenever she had been called to the country, her help had always been needed at one of the three.

Cair Paravel was one of those Places. Leaving it would be hard, but there was nothing left for her there. Nothing but heartbreak and memories of a life she could never get back. The only thing for her to do was to travel to the next Place and hope she could find her purpose once more.

Slinging the bow and quiver across her chest, Nimueh headed away from the cliff side of the castle and down to where a beach had formed at the very edge of the forest. Across a wide channel was another beach and a forest on what she presumed to be the mainland of Narnia. Fixing her clothes to her quiver by the sleeves of her blouse and curling her hair back up into a bun, Nimueh waded into the water, bracing herself against the current. The water was warm, pleasant even, but she could only focus on keeping her clothes above the surface.

It was a struggle. Every few minutes, a wave of water would push her further towards the open sea, and whilst fighting to keep her back up, it took her far longer to get across the channel. As she dragged herself out of the water and into the trees, she held her breath and listened. The breeze rustled the tops of the tree, but nothing else seemed to be alive. And that scared her.

Nimueh slipped the dress from her shoulders. She hung it over a tree branch and untied her clothes from her quiver. Once dressed, she bound her leather armour as tightly as she could and laced up her boots. Intent on using her dress as an additional blanket, she wrapped it in rope, looped it across her chest and put on her cloak.

She would head southwest towards the Stone Table, the next of the Ancient Places in Narnia. It was the most sacred of them all and she got the feeling that there would be those who had called upon her. Unfortunately, she would have to travel all the way to Beruna in order to cross the river safely, and loop back east to where the Stone Table hopefully still stood.

The first few hours of the journey, Nimueh spent with an arrow on her string, her shoulders tense. As great a warrior as her reputation gave her credit for, she felt naked without her blades. Her archery had never been particularly strong and she hated that she was having to rely on it to keep her alive, especially when she had no idea what was going on.

♚

The sight of Beruna made Nimueh feel sick. Hundreds upon hundreds of men traipsed across the gravel, chopping and carrying wood across the pebbled shores. Sweat staining their clothes and brows, the red sunset painting them in a devilish light. There were soldiers too, in blue and black armour, the likes of which Nimueh had never seen before. She kept deep within the shadows of the trees, and waited.

As the sky grew increasingly dark, the workmen and soldiers started to retreat into the wooden carriages, and Nimueh shifted closer to the edge of the trees. When a particularly frail-looking man came a little too close to where she was hidden, she took hold of the back of his shirt and wrenched him into the trees. Pulling up her hood and loading her bow, Nimueh aimed the arrow right between his eyes and slowly shook her head. The man shuffled further and further backwards, too frightened to even breathe. Nimueh glanced over her shoulder. There were men staring into the forest, but none of them ventured in. Exchanging a few nervous looks, they hurried away and scrambled into the carriages.

Nimueh didn't move until all of the carriages within earshot had rolled away. The man, whose face was half-hidden in shadow, was shaking. When she stepped forwards, he let out a small cry and backed into a tree.