𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ✯ 𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑒 ✓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

A cloud shifted in front of the sun and the encampment suddenly looked very gloom and sombre; the vibrant colours of the tents dimmed by the shadows.

Rosaleen sat cross-legged next to Peter, their knees almost touching as they absentmindedly stared at their own hands. Every once in a while, Peter's eyes traveled to Edmund who tried to stay calm as the lion and the witch discussed his fate, but the raven-haired boy's breathing was shallow. Peter wanted to say something, to tell Edmund it was going to be alright, until a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Something moved behind the tent opening, and the Narnians and the teenagers quickly climbed back on their feet as the White Witch strode out of the pavilion. A smug smile played around her lips and her eyes glinted as they looked Edmund up and down, and he swallowed in nervosity. Without saying anything, though, she set course towards her seat and turned around to face Aslan who had stepped out of the tent as well.

The lion's amber-coloured eyes, shining like two small suns, observed Edmund for a moment and Lucy reached for her brother's hand in an instinct, both of their heartbeats raised painfully. Then, Aslan focussed upon the rest of the Narnians.

'She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood.'

Cheers erupted everywhere and Edmund let out a choked laugh in relief as Peter clapped him on his shoulder, an equal wide smile on their faces.

'How do I know your promise will be kept?' the witch asked the lion. Her cold voice sliced through the air with the sharpness of a scythe, and the jubilating crowd silenced in an instance.

Aslan took a deep breath and bared his sharp fangs as he let out a deafening roar that thundered over the area with the intensity of a storm.

The White Witch almost tripped over her dress as she quickly sat down in her improvised throne, and the Narnians burst out in an exuberant manner once more while the dark procession of the witch left the camp with as much dignity as they could muster.

Lucy hugged Edmund tight but as she glanced at Aslan, she noticed he looked rather downcast despite the good news. She frowned as the lion sadly padded back into his pavilion, his golden ears hanging low, but Lucy's attention was drawn back to the Narnians as they cheered for Edmund and his safety, and she thought of it no more.

✶••━━━━━━••✶

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 in a blink of an eye. Though Peter and Alexander had talked to Aslan about the possibility of the White Witch and her army attacking during the night (as that was what the Germans did back at home), the lion had told them not to worry about that; and the next morning, the company found out why.

The sun had only just begun to peak above the horizon when Peter and Edmund stormed inside the Summers' tent, causing both of the siblings to jolt awake instantly.

'What's happening?' Alexander mumbled before a realisation dawned upon him and while a metallic ring travelled through the air, he unsheathed his swords. 'Are we under attack?'

'No,' Peter answered grimly, 'but it wouldn't be long. Aslan is dead.'

Alexander dropped his swords while Rosaleen climbed out of her bed, her eyes wide in shock. 'What?'

'Lucy and Susan sent us a message via the dryads not too long ago. Aslan took Edmund's place; the White Witch killed him at the Stone Table, and with him gone, she's planning to take over Narnia once more.'

Rosaleen's gaze fell upon Edmund who bit on his lip in guilt but his brown eyes sparkled in determination. He refused to let Aslan's sacrifice be in vain.