There had never been a sleepless night such as this in all of the years that Aramis had lived. The Berunian hills had slowly become covered by soldiers, like a blanket of metal and flesh, and yet, it was hardly midday. This has been decided king before now, and there was no where else that could ever fill this place.
The prospect of battle had played upon Aramis' mind more often than not. His thoughts were not a stranger to battle tactics, but there was where they had to stay. He was unable to fight, as was the disposition of a spirit. Of course, he had known about this for some time. Although, he would not have realised his attachment to the Pevensie's would be so strong, which did complicate his decisions.
It was frightening to see so many lives up for taking. Though they did not know what Jadis had planned, they could be sure it was brutal. Some of them were going to die, that was the truth. That was why Aramis could not stay.
He had joined them that morning, as the sun rose, making sure each and every person was in their place. Whilst he was there, nothing would go wrong. He would not let it. It was also where he would say goodbye, as for many of them, it would be the last.
Susan and Lucy had not joined them by the battlefield, and despite knowing where they would be, it was somewhere in the back of his mind. Instead, Peter and Edmund were the ones who mattered. They were in front of him, concrete and real.
"It has been an honour to serve." Aramis bowed his head, Peter following suite in the customary way. "If you will allow me?"
"Of course." The eldest replied. During his few days in camp, the young king had become aware of the importance of spiritual customs. To deny one, harmed their soul so greatly it was difficult to recover.
Gently, Aramis took Peter's bowed head in his hands, and kissed his forehead. Then, just as softly, he did the same with Edmund.
"Won't you be there?" Edmund questioned, fright filling his voice. His time in Narnia had been cruel, and when reunited, Aramis had been close. Perhaps that was wrong.
"I am afraid I am not allowed to fight, my King..." He regretted the choice, but would never challenge it. "It goes against all that I am."
"Will you find us, when you come back?"
"Of course I will." The star patted down the rogue hairs upon his head. It was a sign of courtesy more than anything else. "Now, I will see your sisters. They must be lonely too."
"Thank you." Peter nodded.
"No, thank you, my king." Aramis would not accept the gratitude, as they should have known by now. "You are fighting for us, and our world. Thank you both."
The journey to the stone table was not as long as one might have thought. Aramis knew the land like the back of his hand, and everything he did was with the upmost confidence. When he arrived there, he saw the girls sleeping beside the body of the most majestic lion to have ever lived.
Aslan had been roughly shaven, and stripped of status. Yet, in death, contentment seemed to find him, which made it all slightly easier to witness. Aramis was glad to not have been there during their so-called 'ceremony'. The girls were brave to have attempted it.
As softly as he could manage, Aramis awoke them. They could not sleep forever, as tempting the offer might have been. Lucy hugged him tightly, to which, it was reciprocated. She was only young, and shouldn't have seen them that way. If it was down to him, then she would have been sheltered from death her whole life. He was too late on that front, but could at least offer her comfort when she needed it.
He offered Susan a hand as she stood, wiping down the front of her dress. It suited her well.
The eldest girl spoke, sighing reluctantly. "We should go."
Lucy shivered, pulling her short cloak closer to her chest. "I'm so cold."
Without hesitation, Aramis removed his own cloak, and wrapped it around the small girl. "Then you may wear this."
"But-"
"Please, my Queen, it is my duty."
Knowing that now was not the time to discuss things as petty as cloaks, Lucy left it where it was. Then, led by Aramis, they turned to leave Aslan. It was the only the right thing to do, especially as there were others who needed them. Wasting time was just a distraction.
Just as they started to walk in the other direction, their gaze off Aslan unfocused, the ground began to shake and rumble. It was so much heavier than an earthquake, but looked local as none of the trees seemed damaged by it. And then, a large cracking noise.
"Susan!" The youngest of them cried out, clinging to her sister in hope of standing tall.
When they turned around, Aslan had disappeared from their sight. All that was there, was the cracked stone table. Empty, and a weight off of Aramis' chest that he could not describe.
"Where's Aslan?" Lucy whimpered, eyes wide.
The three tentatively walked towards the table, unsure of how they were supposed to react. Susan seemed angry. "What have they done?"
It was like a pavilion, the space where the stone table was, with columns at each corner. Although, now it was more of a mausoleum. Then, they saw the light change, and shine directly through two of the columns. Aslan stepped into it, and revealed his form. He was just as beautiful as he had been, and more than majestic.
Aramis fell onto his knee, kneeling and bowing his head.
"Aslan!" The two girls exclaimed as they ran to him with glee. It was heartwarming to see how much they cared for the leader of Narnia, but Aramis still did not move, however glad he was.
"But we saw the knife." Susan stammered. "The Witch."
"If the Witch knew the true meaning of sacrifice, she might have interpreted the deep magic differently." Aslan spoke softly, and as softly as he did, it made them more relaxed. "That when a willing victim who has committed no treachery is killed in a traitors stead, the stone table will crack, and even death itself will turn backwards."
They breathed, a silence came over them. All of the tension from that night seemed to dissipate in his presence, making everything a lot easier to understand.
"You may stand, Aramis." Aslan relieved him from his courtesy. "We know each other better than to kneel."
Finally, the spirit was able to greet his friend, and understand his new power, and energy. Their foreheads touched, and he stroked the new mane. "It is good to have you back, my old friend."
Again, panicked, Susan spoke up. "We sent the news that you were dead."
Aramis agreed. "Peter and Edmund have gone to war."
Bravely drawing her dagger, Lucy stated, proudly. "We have to help them."
With a warm chuckle, Aslan replied. "We will, dear one, but not alone. Climb on my back. We have far to go and little time to get there. And you may want to cover your ears."
With a great roar, it was certain that Aslan was home. Aramis laughed, losing decorum for a small moment. He just couldn't remember being happier.
The Narnian moors were large, and stretched over most of the land. They had seemed larger, however, in winter when everything was one shade: white. On Aslan's back, it was much quicker.
They were lucky to have an ally like him.
"Where are we going?" Susan wondered as the air drifted through her hair.
Aramis could tell the route they were travelling was a treacherous one in the past. The Witch's palace was close by. That had to be it, but Aslan would give nothing away. "Hang on." Was what he said, and that was all.
Oddly enough, Aramis had guessed right, and the ice palace was exactly where they were supposed to be. For so long, he had avoided it, so it felt wrong to be entering now of his own free will.
It was cold, even in spring, and held an air of hatred that Aramis could not ignore. But he wasn't supposed to be paying attention to that of all things. It was meant to be a mission to save their people.
There was a room, close to the entrance, which was designed to hold every statue made by Jadis' staff. They would transfer there automatically, immediately after creation. Everyone knew that they weren't statues, not really. They were creatures, and people, who needed to be rescued more than anything else.
When she saw the state of them, Lucy gasped, and was clearly afraid. Whilst Aramis was solemn, refusing to show any sort of negativity, Susan showed an upset grimace.
He apologised, sadly. "It is not a sight I wished you ever to see."
There was only so much that he could shield them from, and it wasn't fair to try further. Especially when Lucy found someone she had longed to see. A friend of hers, one that had been lost to the Witch.
She was tentative when approaching the statue of Mr Tumnus, unsure of what she was supposed to do. Lucy wasn't even aware if he was alive or dead beneath the stone. He just was there, and that was all.
Softly, Aramis spoke. "Do you know him?"
"He's my friend." She replied, her voice cracking. Within moments of that, she started to cry into her sisters chest. Susan kissed her forehead, and Aramis took her hand, in hope that he might offer some comfort.
When Aslan approached them, they wished something might happen from his greatness. He blew a cold, thin air onto the stone. It cracked.
The scarf that had been locked in place, stiff as a board, began to drop. Colour burst back into it, and the pop of red was life renewed into the palace. It was like he had picked up exactly where he had left off- a tear trickling down his face.
With a gasp for breath, he fell. If it hadn't been for Lucy, he would have hit the floor. But she caught him.
Upon looking up, they smiled at each other with a certain contentment.
"Susan, this is..."
She exclaimed, before her sister had even finished speaking. "Mr Tumnus!"
Susan joined in the hug, feeling a sense of closeness to him that he hadn't before. Lucy then turned to the tall, black-haired man beside them. "And this is-"
"Your-" the faun began to kneel, head bowing, like Aramis would to Aslan. But it was not a fair comparison, as Aramis thought himself nothing compared to Aslan.
"Please, don't." He waved his hand to shake off any sort of responsibility. "Any friend of Lucy's is a friend of mine, Tumnus." He offered a smile, and the shake of his hand. "Aramis is all I will accept."
In a moment or so, Aslan re-emerged, with many Narnian's following suite. "Come, we must hurry and search the castle. Peter will need everyone we can find."
Of course, Aslan was right, and they did their best to reach the battlefield in as little time as possible. So many things could have happened, and it couldn't be certain if Peter and Edmund were still alive. Time was a precarious thing.
Aslan was the first to emerge upon the cliff top, soon followed by Aramis, and the Pevensie girls. The lion roared, heavily, and each powerful movement below seemed to slow as they looked to him. It was another battle fleet completely, and renewed their chances by a whole.
Aramis searched for the two fighting Pevensie's, and found that he could not see Edmund. Peter was fighting, blatantly, but Edmund must have been obscured. It frightened Aramis, so he raced with Aslan.
That was when he saw Edmund.
The boy was lying on the grass, alone, coated in chainmail and gasping. He had been wounded, not so close to the heart as to his lungs, and bleeding gently from the inside out. Aramis could not leave him like that, and with no regard for his white robes, he tended to his new friend.
Edmund was rid of his helmet and chainmail as he needed the weight off of his chest to make it easier to breathe. It was the only thing that gave him the chance to survive. There was a welling in his chest, a pit, growing stronger.
"Do not worry, my king." Aramis offered, as some sort of consolation. He wanted to help, but he wasn't as reliable as he wished to be. "I can save you."
The spirit closed his eyes, allowing that darkness to overcome his mind. He would have to pluck out the deepest of thoughts to work his miracle.
Opening his palms, he allowed them to face the sky. His soul was alive, awake, and correctly aligned.
A golden mist emerged from the tips of his fingers, drifting upwards like a helium balloon might. Soon, it created a bubble, twisting and contorting to shield the two boys. His siblings went to interfere upon seeing the condition he was in, but they were held back by Aslan.
Aramis would not benefit from someone distracting him.
"Just breathe with me, please, Edmund." He said, his teeth almost gritted. "I need you to breathe with me."
The golden dust soon shot up into the sky, and straight back down into his olive hands. It danced, like starlight, upon his fingertips, waltzing, and dwelling, instead of attacking. It was too calm and peaceful on its own. When it was directed by the right person, the wonders it could do.
Aramis watched it for only a second, it was all he had time for. Then, he placed his hands over Edmund's heart, and allowed it to flow through into him.
Then, his siblings were allowed to sit with him. There was nothing they could interfere with.
There was a quiet moment where they weren't sure exactly what was happening. Edmund wasn't breathing. Aramis wasn't moving.
But there was a gasp. Edmund was breathing, and spluttering, but mostly breathing.
Aramis had done all that he could, and all that he was needed for. The Pevensie's were crying, and hugging, and because the battle was over, the spirit left them to stay together on the Berunian battle field. When they wanted him once more, he would be there, but he would not interfere now.
Edmund was alive, and finally, Aramis felt like he had partaken in his duty.
• - - •
2510
• - - •
Disclaimer!!!!
I do not own these characters. I do not own the Narnia series. I do not own the actors, or the characters. The only thing I own is my adaptation of the story, and my original character.