Daggers of Ice

Chapter 31

Where the Northern Lands Meet the Western Woods.

Arianna.

Edmund watched with trepidation as Arianna stepped through the tent, Peter close behind her. There was a look upon his brother's face that he couldn't quite identify. Maybe something akin to a grudging respect.

And then he saw it, the hairline cut above his brother's brow, a razor thin line. But he zeroed in on it; Arianna hadn't struck his brother...had she?

Those who had accompanied her looked unworried, their stances casual despite the unease of the Narnians at their presence. The hulking black Minotaur was watching his queen with scrutiny, his hand never straying far from his battle axe.

The werewolf at his side kept his golden eyes flickering from place to place.

Edmund did not question that they would willingly give their lives to protect Arianna.

That was something eh would never question again.

"It would please me greatly if you joined me tonight," Ari's voice was calm, but when her eyes met his something akin to lightning jolted through him at the sparkling in her emerald eyes. "A feast is to be held, in honour of my safe return and of course to celebrate our new alliance."

"You think us fools?" Peter scoffed. "All know of the enchantment that lies upon your castle. Once inside we could not leave."

Arianna laughed; a clear sound like tinkling bells that filled the air drawing all eyes to her. "High King Peter, the enchantments have removed for over a moon cycle. Have you not noticed that your men move freely as they please? Perhaps your brother would join me for a walk and test it for himself?"

She was making Pete uncomfortable and was doing it deliberately; he could see the smirk that threatened to appear at the corner of her mouth, her eyes mocking. Peter would not allow them to be seen together, truly together, by his people – but he himself would never walk willingly with Arianna of Charn. Did he imagine the wink she sent his way? He quelled the blush that threatened to rise, turning his gaze to stony faced Oreius. The general's gaze was riveted to the pale skinned centaur who had accompanied Arianna.

It was Lucy who saved the situation, stepping forward with a charming little smile and a sweeping curtsy. "I would accompany you, Your Majesty."

She held out her arm, which Arianna took with her own smile – picture perfect.

...

Asura.

Asura turned away from the queens who had walked a little way off, movement in the corner of her eye drawing her attention. The naiad's hand flew to the hilt of her sword on instinct until she recognised one of the guards under her command – a faun.

But it was not he that caught her attention, it was the limp figure he held in his arms. Obviously a woman, clad in clothes that had once been a lovely crimson but had been torn and coated with dirt and grime, with a tumble of beautiful chestnut locks that caught the light as the faun approached.

...

Lucy.

Lucy did not hesitate as they stepped onto the frozen lake – she did not doubt Arianna's word that she had removed the enchantment. "How did you convince Peter to ally himself with you?"

She glanced sidelong at the queen who was but a year older than herself.

"I knocked some sense into him."

Lucy's eyes narrowed. She did not think that Queen Arianna was one to make jokes lightly. Then she remembered the small droplet of blood that had run down Peter's temple, a small crimson drop. "You...fought Peter?"

"He challenged me." She said it simply, as if she were merely commenting on the weather. "The crossing of blades is the most honest form of communication."

Lucy shook her head, her auburn hair catching the light.

Arianna walked a dangerous path.

She could see why Edmund liked her.

"Why does that Fire Sorcerer want you? You cannot betray us."

She watched as Arianna turned to her; eyes glittering like ice and it was almost as if the White Witch had manifested within her once more. But it was a reaction; honest and true and it told Lucy everything she needed to know before Arianna opened her mouth. "Corradyn will die by my hand, Valiant Queen, I promise you this. He will feel the icy kiss of winter as his last breath leaves his lips."

Lucy could see the glint of the ice-like daggers strapped to her belt. Dwarven created, she'd heard Edmund tell Peter. A wound created by those blades could not be healed by magical means.

"Don't break his heart."

Arianna blinked, taken aback.

Lucy could have laughed; for the woman, in that moment, looked every bit the young woman she truly was despite her power and prowess. Despite her reputation – both deserved and not.

"I can promise nothing. But I will try not to."

It was later that night, when they sat in their tents by the torchlight that she looked up at Peter. At the ever-present frown upon his face and the tiny cut.

She would not offer to heal that.

"Pete, you should trust her," Lucy said softly as they stared into the flames that crackled heartily as the sky bled into night, the first of the stars appearing as the high King fastened his cloak to his back with the golden brooch. "She means us no harm, not any more. Whatever it is she feels for Edmund is true."

"I will try," Peter said at length, looking at himself in the reflection in the mirror before him. "But I cannot simply forget the lives she has taken."

"You have taken just as many Pete."

"It's not the same." She watched as he shook his head, gnawing on her lip. He needed to see that she was no longer a threat. Perhaps he would see at the feast. "I can't forget Lu, not when she looks so much like her."

...

Unknown.

Violet eyes fluttered open. Full lips opened in a gasp, a pink tongue darting out to moisten them. She pressed a hand to her forehead, which burned unnaturally high.

"So you're finally awake," it was the other king's voice that drifted to her from the shadows. The dark king.

Cool water flowed down her throat.

She saw his eyes, dark and mysterious and could easily tell why the Ice Queen was so enamoured with him. Why she had chosen to stop her conquering of Narnia. Even if he was not as pure and noble as his brother. He was fair, he was just.

He was not easily fooled.

"Who are you?" His dark gaze was piercing, as if he could tear through her body and soul.

"Your Majesty," he did not react to her beautiful, melodious voice, instead his lips curled upwards.

"Who are you and why do you wear the leathers of those who follow the Sorcerer of the Flame?"

She could not swallow for the blade pressed to her throat.