Heart and Home~ Edmund Pevensie

Chapter 15: Home

She smiled at him and he returned it, although his eyes still remained concerned. Amelia sighed to herself, What has happened to us?

Amelia's thoughts were broken as the Witch ascended from her chair and slowly walked up to Aslan. Amelia winced slightly as she felt her raw wrist burn from the chains, but she paid no mind to the pain and focused on Aslan, hoping his presence would burn away her fear.

Amelia could not ignore the Witch's cold look towards Edmund, but remained calm where she was standing, "You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan."

There was silence for a moment and Edmund shifted around on his spot, uncomfortable under all the eyes, "His offense was not against you." Aslan replied, with a voice as smooth as velvet.

"Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built?" the Witch retorted.

"Do not cite the deep magic to me Witch! I was there when it was written, but if you are so aware of it, perhaps you would like to explain the presence of the Silvanus in your midst?" Amelia could feel the tension in the crowd thicken as they glanced at her. She nervously focused on Aslan, hoping he knew what he was doing.

The Witch smiled proudly before she almost curiously pointed out, "Blood for blood. You'll remember well, Aslan, that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property. If you will take him from my hands then I shall take something of yours."

The loud sllliiiiinnnggg of a drawn sword echoed throughout the camp. Amelia's eyes widened as she saw Peter point his weapon towards the Witch. At that moment Amelia remembered what she was. The Silvanus. The protector of the living. She didn't know what that meant yet. She didn't know what she could do, how she could help. But perhaps giving Peter a helping hand was a start?

Amelia focused hard and called all the power within herself, hoping it would listen to her. She willed it to gather into a big ball, right in her heart. To her surprise, she felt it grow. She felt her heart swell as her passion for peace and her will for safety urged her power to expand. She thought to herself, for a moment, What can I do? What does the Silvanus have power over? Then she remembered what the Witch told her in the camp, A gift. A spirit of Nature. Without a second thought she forced her ball of energy into the ground and willed it to gather under the feet of the Witch's comrades.

She knew that the Witch could strike her power dead, but if Peter's bold move was to result in a fight, would the Witch's guards not help her? If she could keep them occupied long enough, Aslan and Peter might be able to kill the Witch... The thought, despite Amelia's hate for the Witch, sent a thrust of pain into Amelia's heart. That was her mother, the woman who she had always longed to meet, the woma- No, she doesn't want me. She is a cruel person. She deserves that fate.

She focused with every ounce of her strength on the ground beneath the ghastly creatures. She felt its life and breath. She felt its will to have peace. She felt its anger towards the Witch. Amelia held onto that anger and forced the power with all her might while the Witch continued to speak, "Do you really think that mere force will deny me my right, little king?"

Amelia smiled as she saw tiny vines start to grow. She continued to hold her focus, remembering the power she felt at the Witch's camp when she caused the onslaught of wind and plants in the Witch's bedroom. Surely that was harder to accomplish than this? The vines pushed up slowly, inch by inch. Peter looked away, slightly ashamed at the Witch's words.

"Aslan knows that unless I have blood, as the law demands, all of Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water." Amelia gasped as the Witch whirled around to face Edmund, "That boy will die! On the stone table!" Amelia's anger caused her concentration to snap right in the middle. Dejectedly, her vines fell to the ground. Dead. Amelia's frustration only grew. She sacrificed so much so that Edmund could get out of the camp so that he would be safe, and now the Witch brought the trouble to the boy when he tried to run away. Not only was she frustrated and angry, but she was, ultimately, terrified. The witch continued, "As is tradition" she turned to Aslan in complete confidence, "You dare not refuse me."