Daggers of Ice

Chapter 29

The Northern Lands.

Arianna.

The first thing she became aware of was the water that ran over her skin, so calm and soothing. The water held her buoyant, her thin gown pooled around her body – clinging to slender legs, her hair floating in tendrils around her face.

She remembered stumbling through the forests, the dark branches cutting at her skin as she struggled with Edmund's weight after glimpsing one of Corradyn's scouts. She recalled seeing the gold and crimson tents at the edge of the frozen lake, something akin to relief washing through her when she saw the crest of Narnia. She had staggered through the door of the largest tent, never before so glad to see the Pevensie siblings.

Her eyes shot open.

"Edmund?"

"He is with his family, my Queen," it was Faelar's voice that met her in the vast silence, his dulcet tones cast back at them, echoing in the cavern. "You are in your castle."

She pressed a hand to her forehead, sitting up slowly.

She felt as if her limbs were weighed down with stones, her head pounding. Water rushed off her limbs as she steadied herself, the metal of the bath cool beneath her fingertips. Her skin did not register the icy temperature of the room, though she looked across to see Faelar dressed in his finest blue tunic, hemmed with white fur, a thick cloak thrown over his shoulders.

"How do you feel?" His voice was soft, almost caring.

But it was a strange question, she did not answer straight away.

Did he question her sanity? Or her health? Or the way her heart seemed to ache with each shuddering breath?

He must have known what she was thinking for he rephrased the question. "Are you injured still, my lady?"

"I am well," she cast her gaze to him one more, aware that there was not a mark on her golden-brown skin. For like the naiad's, she had been healed by the water. It was a part of her, and she a part of it. She could feel the drops that hung, suspended in the air, around her. Just as like it could take life, it could give it also. "Tell me, what has happened."

His sapphire eyes traced her body, reassuring himself of her condition, before they rested upon her shining orbs. So brilliant, so bright. She knew they had never shone with so much life before, even though she had been teetering on the brink of death. "I did what you asked. I brought the Narnians here to fight the sorcerer. Though I do believe that High King Peter's only intention was to retrieve his brother from either you or Corradyn; whoever actually had him."

Her head pounded.

"And what now? Edmund has been returned to him. Will he go back to Cair Paravel and let us face Corradyn alone?" She pressed a hand to her head, loathe to leave the sanctuary of her chambers and become the Ice Queen once more. She had enjoyed being with Edmund, free of the responsibilities. But she knew she was needed, she would not let her people, or the north, perish beneath the rage of Corradyn's fire.

"I do not know, my Queen."

She glanced at hi sharply. "Enough with the formality, Faelar. Tell me true. Tell me what you have learnt of the Pevensie siblings and where they would stand. You have never lied to me or shied from the truth, do not start now."

She saw something flicker across his eyes, something strange that she could not place. But she knew it was not negative, nor was it directed at her. "King Peter is true and noble, he will do anything to protect his family and his subjects – but he is not as wise as King Edmund, given the chance he would have stormed Corradyn's castle unprepared. He would have thought he was doing the right thing in rescuing his brother had I not intervened on your orders."

She nodded slowly, her thoughts turning over and over in her mind. Little she had seen or heard would disagree with his statements.

"High Queen Susan is difficult to understand, for she seemed to care only for the parties and frivolities of monarchy, leaving everything else to her siblings, save for being the perfect hostess. She is known as the Gentle Queen for no reason. Whilst in her younger years she may have gone into war fearlessly she is the diplomat now, and she could be persuaded to see reason."

Arianna was only mildly surprised he did not mention her beauty, for Arianna had seen the beautiful queen herself – perhaps the most beautiful woman in all of Narnia. But Faelar was not like most other men, he valued many things above superficial beauty. Then she watched that foreign emotion flicker through his eyes once more.

"Queen Lucy will be either to easiest or the most difficult to persuade to your side, Ari. She is courageous and strong and fiercely protective of her friends and siblings, especially Edmund. She is a warrior at heart, Ari, just like you. And you will need her on your side if the Narnians are to stand with us; for she is held dear by all."

She looks at those tapestries.

She knew who she was.

Arianna regarded him for a few moments at length, a smirk tugging on the corner of her lips. But she suppressed the urge to tease him; there were more pressing matters at hand. "I must rise, Faelar. There is much to be done."

She would take back the advantage.

They had seen her at her weakest.

That would not be how they remembered her.

...

Where the Northern Lands Meet the Western Woods.

Peter.

The sound of the jingling bells were like an echo from a long-forgotten dream, or perhaps a nightmare. They rang throughout the campsite, cutting through the laughter and merriment of the Narnians, echoing throughout his own grand tent strewn with crimson and gold cushions, upon which Susan and Lucy sat, who turned as one.

It was as if a sudden hush had fallen over them, and Edmund was half out of his chair, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Peter's fists clenched and Asura had drawn her own sword, all staring intently as the tent flap rippled open and a faun was standing there, panting heavily, his eyes wide with something akin to fear.

"My King and Queens, the White Witch approaches."