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im-a-wonderling · 1 year

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Bruises, Part 16 ~ Peter Pevensie

Dedicated to @valiantlytransparentwhispers, for being her wonderful self.

Alright, y’all. I’m planning to have the rest of Bruises posted before the new year, so send me all the writing fairies and let’s get crackin’!

Warnings: Nothing I can think of, but let me know if there should be!

Word count: 7.0k

Bruises Masterlist

Before I could stop myself, my hands wrapped around the bars of the door and tugged. It didn’t budge. “Unlock this,” I ordered, turning back to face the creatures.

To their credit, Magdrul and the other advisors didn’t blanch…but the ogre and bear standing guard behind him did. When nobody moved, my heart pounded against my chest like a battering ram. How far was this army willing to follow me? I could only imagine the expectations they had and how spectacularly I was failing them at the moment. Flexing my authority would only work so many times before their goodwill ended and their questions began.

Madgrul turned to the ogre. “You heard Her Excellency. Unlock the door.”

I nearly made a face at the title, but the ogre obeyed, lumbering forward and pulling a ring of keys off of his belt. As he fiddled with the lock, King Edmund got to his feet, wincing as the chains connecting him to the wall clicked and clattered.

As soon as the cell door was open, I lurched forward, rushing over to King Edmund. “What in the world are you doing here?” I said in a low tone, hoping no one else would hear.

King Edmund matched my volume. “They kidnapped my party.”

“What were you even doing in these woods in the first place?”

“The dryads.” King Edmund swallowed, looking afraid. “They’re getting worse. They attacked my party and killed two of my men.”

Anxiety rose up in my throat, nearly choking me. King Edmund’s eyes darted over my shoulder, reminding me that we weren’t alone. I couldn’t express my fears with them listening. I needed King Edmund’s private counsel.

I turned to address the soldiers. “Please, release them and give them food and drink.” For a moment, I worried I’d have to conjure some believable reason why I wanted them to be released, but the ogre seemed to have learned. He went to each Narnian soldier, unlocking their chains one by one.

The fear mixed with hatred on the faces of the half a dozen Narnian soldiers made my stomach sink. I could only imagine what was running through their minds.

But I couldn’t change any of that now.

I watched as the bear and ogre led the Narnian soldiers out of the dungeon, leaving me alone with King Edmund and the advisors. “I require a private room,” I said to Magdrul. “The king and I need to talk.”

Magdrul regarded me, not with suspicion, but with worry. I found myself holding my breath, wondering whether or not he would allow it.

But Magdrul finally lowered his head and said: “I will show you to your chambers.”

I had to squash my surprised response before it left my mouth. Since when did I have chambers?

Keeping my posture straight and not allowing any uncertainty to show on my face, I ensured that the Narnian soldiers were indeed being looked after. Once I’d seen the Narnian soldiers practically stuffing their faces with food, I allowed Magdrul to lead King Edmund and I through the maze of corridors.

For such a small palace, I thought as we walked up a staircase, it sure has some questionable architectural design.

I glanced over at King Edmund, who seemed to get paler and paler the more we climbed.

With a start, I realized he was probably recognizing a lot of this place. He’d been held captive here, and no mysterious entity had removed those memories from him. His memories were pure and untampered with. A flash of envy shot through me, and I quickly scolded myself for it. Now was not the time.

Magdrul stopped outside a large door with harsh etchings on the doorframe. “If you need anything–”

“Thank you, Magdrul,” I said, ushering King Edmund inside. “You’ve been a big help.”

Whatever Magdrul had been about to say, I firmly shut the door before he could get it out. I slumped against the wood, relieved to finally drop my self-assured pretense. “So…” King Edmund stood with an odd look on his face. “It seems we have a lot to talk about.”

I swallowed and looked around the room. The size and grandeur of it seemed to rival that of Peter’s, which didn’t make sense. His rooms were fit for a high king, whereas mine, as the witch’s heir, should’ve been more humble. The ceiling was nearly as high as the ceiling in the witch’s throne room, and the frame of the four-poster bed nearly reached it. The white bedding was fresh, not a hint of damage or dust, so someone must’ve prepared this bed for me.

When they would’ve had the time, I didn’t know.

There was a large wooden table with a meal on it, and a large chest sitting at the foot of the bed. Both were etched with the same carvings on the doorframe. Strange markings that looked to be in another language and sent a chill down my spine.

A doorway stood at the other end of the room, and I could just see a porcelain claw-foot tub big enough to fit Achlosh and Adonis at the same time.

My ‘chambers’ were enormous, and yet I didn’t recognize a single inch of them.

The king and I sat at the table, and while he ate the meal that was probably intended for me, I told him everything that had occurred since he’d left Cair Paravel.

Once I finished my story and he’d finished his food, King Edmund leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin. “So. You and Peter were having a fight when Gonin broke into Cair Paravel, threatened Peter, and transported you away.”

“Yes.”

“And Gonin told you that you’re responsible for at least eleven deaths and tried to kill you for it before Adonis shot and killed him.”

“Yes.”

“And you found out that you were, in fact, a princess, and now you have an army at your disposal.”

“Apparently.”

He let out an amused huff. “And it’s only noon.”

“What do I do?” I asked, completely at a loss. “I’m just a chambermaid, I’m not qualified for this.”

“Well, you’re not and apparently never have been ‘just a chambermaid’.”

I threw my hands in the air. “That doesn’t mean I suddenly know what to do! I still don’t remember anything more about my past, and now suddenly I’m supposed to lead an army?”

King Edmund smiled at me. “If my siblings and I could do it, you can do it.”

His apparent faith in me didn’t make me feel any better. “At least give me some advice.”

“My advice?” King Edmund stroked his chin, deep in thought. “Send out my Narnian party as messengers to my brother, telling him we’re both alive and safe.”

“Will the army even let me send the messengers?”

“They didn’t hesitate to unchain them and provide food when you ordered it.” He shrugged. “I think they’re truthful about following you.”

He was right. They didn’t seem to have any hidden agenda, nor any no plans beyond their commitment to following me. I’d asked them to do things that probably felt counterintuitive, and yet they’d still obeyed.

“And then, after I send the messengers?”

“Sleep.” King Edmund smiled kindly. “No good decisions are made when one is low on sleep, and you look dead on your feet.”

As if it’d been summoned, I yawned a gigantic yawn, my jaw cracking.

Magdrul managed to rustle up a pen and some paper. After talking with King Edmund to figure out the correct message, I wrote six letters, all bearing the same message telling Peter that his brother and I were safe in the witch’s castle with her army, who were not our enemies, and asking him to come as soon as possible for me to explain everything.

Not knowing what the Narnian soldiers thought of me, I asked King Edmund to direct them. They’d follow his instructions sooner than mine, and it was his plan to begin with anyways.

I felt lighter as I watched the messengers leave from the balcony. Soon Peter would know I was safe, and he’d come to the castle and help me figure out what to do. In the meantime, King Edmund was right. I was exhausted. I crawled onto the bed, not even managing to get under the covers before falling asleep.

Gonin’s hands were holding me tight. “When the high king finally catches up with me,” he said, his breath flowing across my cheek, “I’ll tell him that you were crying when I killed you, begging for him to save you.”

“No,” I whimpered, pushing against him as hard as I could, but he just laughed, an oddly distorted sound.

“I will haunt him for the rest of his life!” Gonin crowed, raising his dagger.

Then came the sound of an impact, and Gonin’s body crumpled on top of me. I screamed, squirming out from underneath him.

Once I’d gotten to my feet, I stood there, panting and staring at the dead man at my feet.

“Y/N?”

I turned to look at the place in the clearing where Adonis had been when he’d fired the arrow, but instead of a centaur, there stood a blond man.

“Peter,” I said, going weak with relief.

Peter ran towards me, throwing his arms around me and nearly crushing me against him. “Oh, thank Aslan, you’re alive!”

The feeling of Peter’s arms around me was overwhelming, and unbidden tears welled up in my eyes.

Peter’s life had been threatened in front of me, I’d been stolen away from the safety of Cair Paravel, then I was accused of murder, and I somehow inherited a questionable army. Everything I’d known had been changed and challenged, and yet here I was with Peter in our dreams, a place we’d been together time and again.

I clung to Peter, holding him tight. “I’m okay,” I hiccuped, saying it to myself as much as I was to him. “I’m alright.”

Peter pulled out of the embrace, searching my body as if injuries to my real body would show on my dream body. Once he seemed satisfied in my good health, he glanced over at where Gonin’s body lay. “Is…is this a dream or a memory?” Peter asked tentatively.

“Memory.” Peter’s jaw went slack, and I nodded grimly. “Gonin’s dead. Adonis killed him.”

Peter’s eyes shut, and he whispered a quick: “Oh, thank goodness.” He opened his eyes again and brushed my hair out of my face. “Tell me where you are, and I’ll come find you.”

I winced. “Um…that’s kind of a long story.”

Queen Susan’s voice came seemingly from nowhere, echoing around us as if we stood in her throat. “Peter! Wake up! There’s a messenger!”

Peter’s form started to fade, even as his grip on me tightened. “Tell me where you are.”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” I said gently. “I love you.”

“Y/N, I want you to–” Before the rest of the sentence could leave his mouth, he disappeared completely.

I stared at the grass where he’d stood. Had I always been the first one to wake up from our shared dreams? I must’ve been, because never before had I stood alone in whatever world that began and ended in the confines of my own mind.

Yet despite being freshly alone in the Western Woods, I didn’t feel abandoned or vulnerable.

I felt like I was home.

I stood in front of the mirror beside the gigantic bed.

King Edmund was right, I felt much better after sleeping, but my appearance did not remotely suggest that I could be any sort of leader.

My hair was an absolute mess, not to mention the array of stains on my robe and nightdress. The green I knew came from the grass, and the brown from the dirt. I didn’t even want to think about where the red came from.

No, this needed to be remedied before Peter showed up.

I opened the door to the bedchamber, seeing the cyclops that was posted there. “Excuse me, but could I trouble you for a bath and a change of clothes?”

“There are clothes in the chest in the corner,” came the grunting reply. “I will ask one of the hags to get some bathwater for you.” He lumbered away.

Leaving the door open for his return, I walked over to the chest and pushed open the lid. Upon seeing the contents, I immediately recoiled in disgust.

The witch’s clothes, neatly folded and untouched by time.

But what were the witch’s clothes doing in my room?

I looked around the chamber with new and wide eyes.

These rooms were far too grandiose for a child, even if that child had been a princess. Which meant there was a reason I didn’t recognize them.

This must’ve been where the witch slept every night.

Why ever had Magdrul brought me here? Did he view me as a replacement for the witch? Did he expect me to once again bring an eternal winter to Narnia and enslave the land in fear?

The thoughts were distressing, and I wanted nothing more than to slam the chest shut and never look in it again. But it was either this or continue walking around looking like I’d just spent the night in a fox den.

Reeling in my disgust, I dug through the chest, trying to find the plainest and most inconspicuous garment to wear. Unfortunately, the witch wasn’t much for being inconspicuous. I’d also forgotten how freakishly tall she was. I held up a blue-grey dress, the only one that wasn’t white. The top of the dress would fit me well enough, but the length would be enough to make me trip every which way.

The material was cool against the skin of my fingers, as if a part of the witch’s essence lived on in this dress.

If that wasn’t a bone-quivering thought…

I tried to remind myself of the facts. In the dream, Susan’s voice had said there was a messenger, which meant Peter and I would soon be reunited. Maybe he’d even arrive before the sun set. Soon, all would be well. I just needed to be patient and hold everything together until then.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in!”

Tolna poked her head into the chambers. “You wanted to bathe, Your Excellency?”

Hearing my title in her screechy voice nearly made me shiver. “Yes.”

Tolna nudged the door open, and I saw several hags beside her, all of them holding large pitchers, presumably of water.

I watched the hags troop into the bathroom, dumping the water into the bathtub. While the other hags fussed over the temperature of the water, Tolna approached me. “Show me your wrist. Let’s get that pesky bracelet off.” She expectantly held out a wrinkled hand.

“How did you–”

“I know a magic inhibitor when I see one.” She shook her head. “That nasty man,” she said underneath her breath.

I held out my wrist. “You knew Gonin?”

“Of him,” she corrected, twisting and fumbling with the bracelet, studying it intently.

Too afraid to ask what she knew, I remained silent as Tolna started muttering under her breath. Within seconds, the bracelet started to loosen. Tolna tugged at the clasp, and the bracelet fell away.

The moment the metal no longer touched my skin, I felt my magic arise in my fingertips again. Perhaps it was the brief period without magic or my surroundings or simply my imagination, but I could’ve sworn the sensation felt stronger than ever.

“Thank you,” I told the hag.

“Of course, Your Excellency,” she squawked before signaling to the others. “We’ll leave you to bathe in peace.” She set the bracelet on the table, and led the group out the door, closing it gently behind them.

I remained where I stood, rubbing my wrist where the bracelet used to be, staring thoughtfully at the bathtub.

What a set of circumstances.

Back at Cair Paravel, I’d been the one carrying warm water up to the bathroom for whichever esteemed persons wanted to bathe.

And yet, here was a bath all ready for me, and I’d barely lifted a finger.

With a start, I realized that would be the sort of treatment awaiting me if I ever married Peter and became queen. I wouldn’t have to warm water for my own bath, let alone anyone else’s. I wouldn’t have to make food or scrub dishes dirtied by others in the kitchen.

My role would look very different.

Was I ready for that? I didn’t know.

All the thoughts that were hounding me evaporated as soon as I lowered myself into the warm water.

Here we were, in the middle of summer, and yet I hadn’t felt warm since I stepped foot inside this castle. It was a delicious feeling, and my spirits slowly lifted as I scrubbed the dirt away.

Even pulling on the blue-gray dress couldn’t dampen my spirits.

I was drying my hair with a towel when I heard the first cry.

It must’ve come from one of the hags, for it was a loud, feminine wail.

I ran to the balcony attached to the witch’s bedroom, and my heart fell through the floor as I took in the sight.

In the courtyard below me, the White Witch’s army was scrambling to pack up their tents and get inside the gates. And out in the opening between the treeline and the bridge leading to the castle, a host of Narnians bedecked in red and gold were marching towards the castle.

The host’s numbers far exceeded any ordinary search party. I couldn’t see their expressions from here, but I could see the armor and weapons.

Had my message somehow not reached Peter after all?

No, it must’ve, for how would Peter have known to march on the White Witch’s castle?

I pushed the thought away.

That didn’t matter right now.

What mattered now was stopping bloodshed.

I burst out the door and promptly tripped over the heavy skirts of the dress. Cursing, I held my skirts out of the way as I scrambled to my feet. As if I needed any more proof that dresses were not the right attire if one wanted to get anything done.

As I ran down the stairs as fast as my feet could carry me, I thanked my lucky stars that all the ice inside the palace had long melted. I didn’t even want to know how many times over I would’ve tripped and fallen on my face.

The White Witch’s army was creating a stampede in their efforts to make it inside the walls of the palace. Multiple hags were screaming now, and the sound nearly split my ears. One of the cyclops was dragging a chest of axes behind him when he nearly tripped on a ghoul running past.

As I ran for the gates, I caught sight of a young minotaur, barely as tall as my waist, with curly hair piled by her horns. I watched as the little minotaur dropped a doll and paused, clearly debating whether or not to run back towards danger to retrieve the doll.

“Goria!”

Achlosh scooped up the little minotaur and ran towards the castle with her in his arms. Was that his daughter? I didn’t dwell on it, continuing towards the gates.

Magdrul—who’d seemingly materialized from thin air—stepped in my way. “It’s not safe!”

I tried to go around him, but Adonis stood in my way, and it was impossible to step around him. “They won’t hurt me,” I said in a rush, trying to make them understand, “but they will hurt the others. Please, I have to get out there.”

“Leaders don’t lead on the battlefield!” Adonis cried, looking terrified at the very idea. “They stay where it’s safe.”

“Not if they can save lives!” I didn’t wait for the response before ducking through Adonis’s legs and running towards the gates.

But before I could get there, the last of the army made it into the safety of the courtyard, and two giants swooped in to close the gates and began blocking them.

“Open the gates!” I shouted, and the giants shot alarmed looks at each other, clearly conflicted between the danger awaiting out the gates and their loyalty to me. “I’m the queen’s heir, and I am now the leader of this army. Now,” I glared fiercely, “open the gates!”

A moment passed where both giants seemed to consider my words before they unblocked the gates and let it swing open.

I ran across the bridge, towards the Narnian lines, frantically waving my hands. “Stop!”

A sudden commotion made me glance over my shoulder.

The White Witch’s army clearly wasn’t going to stand and watch as I put myself in harm’s way. The creatures, whom moments before had been racing to safety, now started filing out after me, preparing to protect me.

“Stay back! Please!” I cried, but they didn’t listen.

I spun to see that the Narnian line had almost reached me.

“Stop!” I cried, but neither side stopped their advances. “Everything’s fine, there’s no reason to fight!” Not one creature on either side showed any hesitation. Any other time, I would’ve admired the dedication, but right now, I was about to get caught in the middle of a battle.

Desperation coursed through me as I started to imagine the clash that was about to happen.

Neither side would back down, and I knew the White Witch’s army, the lives I was now responsible for, would be wiped out completely.

A familiar tickle in my fingertips grabbed my attention.

My magic.

I could feel it trickling forward, responding to my panic, ready to be used.

The time had come.

Instead of pushing it down or ignoring it, I seized it and pulled on it as hard as I could.

Ripples of power radiated from my body, causing cries to come from all around me as the very ground underneath my feet began to shake and rumble, as if some sleeping giant had been awakened. Cries sound from all around me as all the creatures tried to catch their footing. But the frontline of both armies crashed to the ground.

“STOP!” I roared.

A profound silence fell as hundreds of creatures stared at me, half in awe, half in fear as the shaking ceased.

The Narnian army parted to reveal a man, dressed in a full suit of armor. I knew it was Peter, but my breath still caught in my throat when the man reached up to pull the helmet off his head, revealing his expression.

He looked horrified.

I suddenly realized what this looked like from his perspective.

The last time he’d seen me, I was disappearing with my abuser from the safety of the palace walls.

Now, I stood in front of the White Witch’s army, on the bridge leading up to her castle, dressed in her clothes, using magic.

But when Peter’s hand moved to grip the hilt of his sword, a sudden rush of anger shot through me. He’d come prepared for war. This wasn’t a misunderstanding, this was his plan. To wage war on the remnants of the White Witch’s army and whisk me back to the safety of his castle, like some damsel in distress.

I swallowed the anger, pushing it aside.

Inside, all I wanted to do was plead with Peter to listen to me, to turn his army around and return to Cair Paravel, but I couldn’t.

Because right now, we weren’t Peter and Y/N.

We were High King Peter the Magnificent and Her Excellency, Lady Y/N, daughter of Leda.

I had everyones’ attention, and I was not going to waste it.

“I request an audience with the high king.” I wasn’t sure if my magic was amplifying the sound of my voice, or my voice was truly as steady and far reaching as it sounded on its own merit.

The army in front of me and the army behind both started muttering, everyone clearly having opinions about my request.

Peter remained motionless, his face stone cold.

Nobody moved as the two of us stared at each other from opposite sides of the battlefield. I didn’t move, refusing to show weakness in front of everyone, but unbeknownst to all, I was holding my breath.

The grim set of Peter’s face didn’t bode well for me, and I was sure he was on the verge of refusing when something behind me seemed to catch his eye.

I risked a momentary glance over my shoulder to see King Edmund coming up behind me.

Some part of Peter seemed to deflate at the sight of his brother, unharmed. He made to come towards us, but Queen Susan, who’d come up behind him, gripped his arm.

With that little motion, I knew what side Queen Susan was on.

Peter seemed to collect himself. “Your request is granted,” he boomed. “In an hour, we will meet on the bridge, each with three accompaniments.” I nodded, to show my agreement, and with that one motion, the Narnian army started to retreat.

I turned to head back to the witch’s castle, hiding my shaking hands in my skirts.

“They’ll likely set up a tent,” King Edmund said out of the side of his mouth as he walked beside me. “Peter will most certainly bring Susan. I didn’t see Lucy, so she’s probably back at Cair Paravel, since all four of us aren’t supposed to be away from the castle at one time. The other two accompaniments are probably going to be whatever generals he brought with him.”

“Will you come with me?” I asked.

King Edmund nodded. “We should also bring Adonis, if he’s willing. They know him, and his presence should give them pause. Hopefully, pause enough for us to get a word in.”

I nodded numbly.

“As for the third accompaniment–”

“I want Magdrul there.”

King Edmund looked hesitant. “I don’t know how Pete will react to that,” he said slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully, “considering Magdrul’s relationship with Maugrim.”

I shook my head. “I don’t care. I want Magdrul there.”

King Edmund didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded. “Okay.” We reached the gates, and I tried to continue on shaky legs, despite all the looks I was receiving from the army around me. “And Y/N?” I stopped, and glanced over my shoulder to see the slight smile on King Edmund’s face. “Nice magic trick.”

I ducked my head and continued my way up to my room.

I shut the door and promptly sank onto the floor, propping myself with my hands, trying to take a deep breath.

********

“It’s been an hour,” King Edmund said on my right. “Let’s go.”

I tried to walk, I really did. But as I stared at the tent entrance on the bridge, my heart began to beat out of my chest, borderline painful, and my feet seemed rooted to the ground. I gulped, desperately trying to pull myself together.

Come on, Y/N. You have work to do. You asked for this meeting, so go and join it!

A hand gently squeezed my left hand, and I looked to see Adonis beside me. “You can do this,” he said quietly. “Stop thinking about what you have to do and start thinking about who you’re doing it for.”

I didn’t dare turn to look at the army that stood at my back. An army of creatures that had been led astray by an evil person and had subsequently been branded with a reputation.

Much like myself.

Spurred on, I found myself walking forward, King Edmund, Adonis, and Magdrul falling into step beside me.

Much sooner than I would’ve liked, we arrived at the tent. Before I even had a chance to take a breath, Adonis and Magdrul wordlessly held back the curtains, allowing me to enter first.

Peter was already there, sitting in a seat on one side of the large table in the center of the tent. Queen Susan sat at his side, and behind him stood the centaur I recognized as General Oreius—who’d fought at Peter’s side in the great battle—and Mr. Tumnus.

I took the seat directly across from Peter, and

Peter didn’t look up as I took the seat directly across from him. King Edmund sat down beside me while Magdrul and Adonis remained standing. My eyes traced Peter’s form, taking note of his armor, the golden crown placed solidly on his head, and his eyes trained on the table.

Mr. Tumnus and General Oreius didn’t say anything. Queen Susan didn’t say anything. And Peter didn’t say anything.

They all just sat there, staring at me with varying amounts of stony suspicion.

King Edmund’s foot nudged mine underneath the table, and I took a deep breath. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Well, when you clearly have no scruples about using your magic,” Queen Susan said coolly, “we didn’t have much choice.” A pang shot through my chest, and it took great effort to conceal my expression. The queen pursed her lips. “What do you want?”

I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves. “I want to negotiate a peace treaty.”

Sounds of disbelief filled the tent, coming from both in front of me and behind me. Queen Susan sat back in her chair, frowning. General Oreius’s expression bordered on outrage while Mr. Tumnus looked afraid, of what I didn’t want to think about. I didn’t want to look at Magdrul or Adonis, fully aware that I hadn’t told them that this was my plan and not sure I wanted to know what they thought of it. So I kept my attention on Peter.

Unfortunately, his guise didn’t shift.

Queen Susan recovered first. “Why would we negotiate with an army of killers? Betrayers? Kidnappers?” she asked, eyebrows drawing together in the unmistakable nature of anger.

“King Edmund and the rest of his party are unharmed,” I protested.

“They’re not the only ones they kidnapped,” General Oreius muttered. It took me a second to realize who he was referring to.

“I am unharmed as well.”

“Philanthropic kidnappers then,” Queen Susan snapped. So much for being the gentle queen.

“They didn’t—“ I bit my tongue, realizing my shoulders were getting closer and closer to touching my ears. I forced them to relax. “I want peace. What’s your counteroffer?”

The queen glanced at Peter, but Peter didn’t say anything.

I’d seen Peter in tenuous situations before. When we’d returned to Cair Paravel to find that the witch’s army had attacked, he’d been so confident in the meeting that followed. Or when he’d arrived at the library to see Prince Relalo and I, surrounded by soldiers, and immediately taken charge of the situation.

So why was he now refusing to talk at all? Why was he letting Queen Susan take the lead?

“A full surrender,” Queen Susan finally said. “We are willing to pardon you, Lady Y/N. But for their allegiance to the White Witch, the rest of the army faces death or life imprisonment.” Magdrul growled under his breath, and Queen Susan appeared on the verge of growling back.

I swallowed hard.

I’d known a peace treaty would not be easily won, but this? This was unthinkable.

“Well?” Queen Susan prompted.

“There must be another way,” I said softly, not even entirely sure if I’d meant to say it out loud.

“There isn’t.” Queen Susan took a deep breath. “These creatures have caused unspeakable pain to this land, and the wrongs must be righted.”

It took all my effort not to glance behind me at Magdrul, to reach for him the way I would’ve as a child, to sink my hand into his white fur for comfort.

Queen Susan, and all the true Narnians by extension, had every right to be as aggressive and unforgiving as they were. They’d been deprived of their freedom for so long, and to gain it back, they’d had to fight with all their strength on a battlefield not far from here.

The wounds ran deep.

My eyes slid over to Peter, who was dutifully staring at the table. Look at me, I wanted to beg. See? It’s me. It’s Y/N, your Y/N. You can trust me.

Queen Susan’s eyes softened, as if she could hear my thoughts. “Y/N, let go. Accept the pardon, and allow us to deal with this.”

An inkling of irritation sparked in me. She was speaking to me like I was a child. I didn’t have much experience with leading armies and peace treaties, but that didn’t mean that I needed to step aside…right?

“Which crimes of mine are you willing to pardon?” I asked suddenly.

Queen Susan’s brows lowered in confusion. “What?”

“You said you’re willing to pardon me. I’m curious what exactly you’re pardoning me for.”

She threw a glance at General Oreius, who shifted his weight. “We would pardon you for your temporary alignment with the remnants of the White Witch’s army, who, may I remind you, are enemies of Narnia.”

I rested my eyes on Peter, who had yet to look up from the table. “I have committed more crimes than that.”

Queen Susan shot another look at Peter, and from her expression, I knew Peter’d told her about the memory. I waited for the tidal wave of shame to come, and it did…just not as powerfully as I’d thought. The queen cleared her throat. “Yes, well, that is not relevant.” Clearly she was trying to skim over this, especially considering Mr. Tumnus’s and General Oreius’s presence.

But I’d fought too hard for the truth to let it be glossed over. “In my past, I have committed more than ‘a temporary alignment’ with what you perceive to be the wrong side. I’ve committed war crimes. Murders.”

Peter’s head jerked up. “Murders?” he blurted. “More than one?”

Finally, he was looking at me, fearfully, but directly. Resisting the urge to squirm, I held his gaze. “I know of at least eleven.”

The queen, faun, and centaur all looked shocked, but that was nothing compared to Peter’s reaction.

It was as if I’d cracked him open, similar to an egg about to be made into an omelet. I couldn’t be thankful I was no longer looking at his guarded expression, for his fear and horror were terrible things to behold. I felt something inside me start to quake a bit. If I thought the way he’d looked at me in his bathroom was bad, it was nothing compared to now.

Distantly, I wondered if this is what the White Witch had seen when dueling with Peter on the battlefield.

Peter turned his head slightly to look at his sister, and when she looked back at him, he gave her the most miniscule of nods.

“Well,” Queen Susan said with great effort as Peter returned his gaze to the table, “you were a child. We understand you might have been, urm…led in the wrong direction.”

I balled my hands into fists below the table, trying to channel my fear. “You’re willing to pardon me for the murders?” I pressed.

Peter shifted, plainly uncomfortable.

“Yes,” Queen Susan said hesitantly, looking like she’d rather say anything but yes.

“All eleven of them?”

Queen Susan swallowed. “Yes.”

“Then why aren’t you willing to pardon the army?”

“Because–” Queen Susan began in a shrill voice.

“Because they’re killers and betrayers?” I leaned forward. “I’m a killer. And King Edmund was a traitor.”

Queen Susan leapt to her feet, quiet fury burning on his face. “How dare you–”

“She’s right,” King Edmund said quietly, and Queen Susan’s head whipped to look at him. “I was a traitor, and I was crowned a king.”

“So if you’ve forgiven him,” I gestured to King Edmund, “and you’re willing to forgive me,” I placed a hand on my chest, “and you’re agreed that they were philanthropic kidnappers, then why won’t you pardon them as well?”

Queen Susan opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out.

It was my turn to not speak, to wait while the queen mustered up something to say. When she didn’t, I merely raised my eyebrows, refusing to give her an out.

“King Peter?” she said finally.

All attention turned to the high king, who was clenching his jaw tightly, his gaze trained not on me, not on his brother, but at some arbitrary point somewhere slightly above my head. “The offer still stands,” he said softly. “The only pardon we will authorize is Lady Y/N’s.”

Somehow his gentility only made me angry. “Why are you willing to overlook my crimes under the assumption that the White Witch had a hand in my actions, yet you won’t extend the same grace to them?”

“We have no reason to pardon them,” Peter said, raising his voice as well, but still not looking at me. “Pardoning them doesn’t offer us any advantage.”

“Advantage?” I repeated hoarsely. “How about unity in Narnia? How about finally healing the wounds of this land? Is that not enough?” Peter’s eyes slid to my face again, and I knew what I needed to say next. “I don’t want either of us to lead a battle that results in more graves being dug.”

Peter inhaled sharply, and I knew we were remembering the same conversation, many nights ago, on the turret back at Cair Paravel. There have been many graves dug in result of battles I lead, he’d said. Does the end truly justify the means?

Judging by the haunted look in his face, I’d struck a nerve.

But Queen Susan had regained her composure. “All the Narnian hostages have been returned, and considering my brother,” she threw a dirty look at King Edmund, “is aiding you, no threat upon his life would be believed. Simply put, you have no bargaining power here. Our army exceeds yours in might and numbers.”

I nearly groaned aloud, for she was right. They could attack us outright or even starve us out without much effort on their part.

King Edmund got to his feet, drawing all eyes. “We’re at an impasse,” he said calmly. “Perhaps we should take the night to mull over what’s been said and meet again after the sun rises.”

Again, Queen Susan looked to her unresponsive older brother before letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine. We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning.”

Peter immediately rose to his feet and left the tent. I watched him go, a pit in my stomach.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this conversation had perhaps stretched us too far.

Queen Susan took time getting up from her chair. “Y/N,” she said, and trepidation glided through my gut as I waited for her to continue. She let out a sigh. “Can’t you just surrender? It would be better for everyone involved, it’d be better for Peter.”

“It would be easier,” I conceded. “But I doubt the witch’s army would say it was better.”

She shook her head before following Peter.

Once General Oreius and Mr. Tumnus had left, I slouched, resting my forehead on the wooden table, feeling completely drained.

“You did really well,” King Edmund said from beside me.

Adonis’s voice came from somewhere behind me. “He’s right. You held your ground and made good points.”

“It didn’t make a difference,” I mumbled, before sitting up again to look at my confidantes. “They’re never going to agree to peace.”

“It seems bleak now,” King Edmund said soothingly. “But it’ll be better tomorrow.”

Better? I wanted to scoff. They’d heard the whole conversation, they’d seen Peter’s expression and Queen Susan’s indignation. How could they possibly think that the Narnians would settle for anything less than complete annihilation of every creature standing in the courtyard to my back?

Had I done the right thing in fighting for the witch’s army? Or was I biting off more than a traumatized chambermaid could chew?

Numbly, I got up and exited the tent.

Walking to the witch’s army was somehow more harrowing than walking into the tent in the first place, because I could see the faces of the witch’s army.

Some looked grim. Others looked angry. Still more looked scared.

I waited for the questions, preparing to try and talk my way out of this. But none of them said a thing. They simply watched me, waiting.

Here they were, on the verge of uncertain doom, and their loyalty to me still did not waver.

I was about to pull King Edmund aside and ask for advice on what to say when I caught sight of Goria. She was nestled in Achlosh’s arms, clinging to her doll and watching me with wide eyes.

A soul-deep ache erupted in me.

Was I much older than she when the White Witch sent me on a mission to kill Gonin and his party? Were the other Narnians prepared to tear her from Achlosh’s safe arms much the same way the Witch had probably torn me from my mother’s?

The ache turned to hot anger.

I had been an innocent, and the Witch exploited me for her own gain. How many of the creatures before me had been innocents too? How many of them would have actually done the things they did without her influence?

King Edmund was the one who’d experienced the Witch’s manipulation, and he was on my side. Peter and his sisters had not been tempted. They’d been whisked away to Aslan and started on their paths of goodness under his supervision.

They could not possibly understand.

But I did.

Just like that, a fire lit in my stomach.

However difficult or short-lived my leadership would be, these creatures were my people, in more ways than one. And now it was time for me to step up.

“Listen to me,” I said, my voice carrying. “You have given me the honor of leading you, and I will not betray that. I will not allow for any mistreatment of you. I will stand by you until the end, whatever and whenever that may be.”

The army exchanged looks, their faces lifting.

I lifted my chin higher. “I will find a way towards peace. You have my word.”

The army cheered, grinning at me and clapping each other on the back.

But where they clearly felt better, my nerves had only worsened.

********

Part 17

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