Destiny is a funny thing... It will bring two together and just so happen to be the same thing that rips and tears them apart. But it always ensures that those same two are brought together, whether fantasy and reality want it or not. Simply because...
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{ chapter fourteen ~ and 'long' may she reign }
Queen Mila sat patiently, and in silence, as she waited in the small, damp, and dark cell that she had potentially been waiting in, for days. The words of Miraz haunted her mind every time sleep or death tried to take over her.
"I want her alive."
She was honestly surprised she hadn't been killed yet. She had fought, hopefully, amongst the other Narnians before she was grasped by Miraz's Lord, Glozelle. And within his grasp she stood helpless by Miraz as she was forced to watch the remainder of the army, her army being brutally slaughtered. And all their Queen could do was kick and scream.
Mila was tired, but she couldn't sleep, not here, not with Miraz's guards constantly pacing her cell. She was frightened. Worried that death would be brought to her when she slept. When she was at her weakest. Her body ached, the bruises and cuts from the battle still bled and caused her pain. All she could do was think, think about what Peter was doing, how he was breaking the news of her 'death' to Lucy and Edmund. All she could think about was how Edmund would blame himself, and so would Peter. How Lucy would probably feel some sort of regret because she didn't stop her from leaving. The Narnians where probably miserable, they'd lost a Queen. The Pevensies, the poor Pevensies where probably depressed. They'd grown up with Mila, she was family and they thought she was gone. And it was all her stupid fault. Mila has been reckless and stubborn and she'd caused so many people, so much pain.
Creaking metal broke her from her trance. "You look dreadful." A snarky voice came from one of the two guards. Mila rolled her eyes. "Leave me to die already." She mumbled, her body didn't move, her bones and her wounds still aching from the battle, "Miraz wants to see you." They simply stated before hauling her up. Pain shot up her back as she stood, although it only lasted a few seconds before she regained some slight strength. Her sudden strength wasn't enough to put up a fight, but it was certainly enough to stand up to Miraz.
Once again she found herself walking through the horrible dark halls of the castle. Only this time she wasn't fighting for her people, she was walking into the belly of the beast. She was awaiting her doom.
"Ahhh." Miraz clapped his hands together in delight as Mila entered the large room. Miraz's court crowded around, their eyes engraving into her skin as she glared back the the 'king'. "Miraz." She spat, her confidence coming back to her quickly. "That's King Miraz to you." She let out a shallow laugh before gaining some posture and stepping forward, the restraints of the two guards holding her back. "King?" She chuckled again, "Your no King to me Miraz, in fact, your not even King to Telmar. I will not address you as King. You don't deserve such a title." Mila spat. This time Miraz gave a shallow laugh. "You have some guts, Queen Mila. Disobeying you're husband and ending up here, in the enemy's clutch." The young Queen smirked, "How do you know this wasn't our plan all along?" She questioned, she wanted to see if she could trick him. "Why would you allow your whole army to die?" He replied. "Do you really think we'd be stupid enough to send our whole army into your fortress Miraz? Us Narnians are a lot more powerful and smarter than we seem, after all, we've had thirteen hundred years to plan." She smirked, plus she was lying through her teeth, the majority of their army has in fact died. "Maybe you have, maybe you haven't." He simply said. "Now, Queen Mila. I have two options for you." She raised an eyebrow. "Option one, you can remain here with us and become a Lady to Telmar. You will be treated with wealth, you can marry a worthy Lord, and will not be harmed. Or option two-" Mila's chuckle cut him off, "As if I'd betray my Kingdom! My crown! My husband and family! Aslan! I'd rather die than become a Lady of Telmar." She stared the older man right in the face, his snarl growing wider by the minute. "That can be arranged."
Mila could see his grin, she could feel his eyes piercing her skin as the two guards from earlier regripped her arms, "It was lovely meeting you, Queen of Narnia." He called as he watched her get dragged away.
The situation Mila sat in felt familiar. Trumpkin has been in the same situation the day they met. The Telmarines sure liked drowning people. "Are you ready Princess?" A guard asked as he stopped his rowing. "Queen." She corrected. "Why doesn't she seem frightened?" The other mumbled as he tightened the bounds around wrists and ankles. "Aren't you afraid of death?" She took a breath before glancing into the waters, they looked peaceful, almost welcoming. "No, not really." She simply said, a shrug of her shoulders loosened the bounds slightly. "I've died before you know, from the hands of someone much more scarier than Miraz." The two guards looked at one another, "Let's throw her in here." He muttered before grabbing her harshly. "It's not too late to choose option one." Mila forced herself forwards, her weight almost tipping the boat as she knelt at the side. "That's unlikely. If you're not going to throw me in I can do it myself." She shouted. Which frightened the two men as they dropped her into the depths...
The water wrapped her like some sort of blanket as it took her to the rocky depths. Queen Mila landed softly at the bottom of the Narnian waters. She was unusually comfortable as she landed on the soft bed of the river. The bounds on her wrists and ankles grew tighter as the water wrapped quickly around them. Mila didn't bother to struggle, her end had come. Instead, she allowed the water to take her...
Mila held her breath, her vision grew hazy as she lay at the bottom of the river. She watched as the reflection of the Telmar rowing boat left the river. She was left to her thoughts as she watched the beauty of the shimmering waters dance. The wildlife of the waters circled her, she watched them spiral. Mila watched the animals as she thought about her family. They thought she was dead. Well technically she was dying, but she wasn't dead yet. She thought about how upset Peter would be, how she was leaving Edmund, Susan, and Lucy when they needed her the most. How she was simply giving up on the Narnians and Caspian.
Mila wasn't weak, she was a Queen, a Hopeful one. And she now hoped to get out of this situation. She needed to get out. For her family and for her Kingdom. She began moving, worming her body against the tough rocks, her already bruised hands and wrists rubbed harshly against them, bringing pain back to her as she struggled against time for her life. Mila couldn't believe it when the boundings around her wrists snapped. She ferociously untied the ropes from her ankles, wincing at the sight of the bluish, purplish, greenish bruises that stained her skin. Queen Mila could hear her heart pounding as she began kicking her legs to get to the top of the water. Her vision began clouding as she hurried to reach the surface. Panic filled her body as she kicked her legs quickly. Mila closed her eyes as she hoped for potentially the last time.. One thought filled her mind as she did, oh how she wanted to be wrapped up in a blanket with Peter by the fire in Cair Paravel.
