Caspian stared at the carvings on the wall.
He traced his fingers over the figures, taking in the timeline of the golden age.
His eyes then shifted to that of Aria's when she was high queen.
Her paintings stopped at a figure of herself and Caspian sighed.
Peter's last words was a haunting chant in his head.
It is indeed his own people who had taken her life but Aria herself had said she had lived longer than she should have.
It wasn't his fault but Caspian couldn't shake off the guilt knowing that she died at the hands of a Telmarine.
The boy heard footsteps behind him and flinched at the sudden voice.
"Are you glad of that magic horn now? The kings and queens have failed us. Your army is half dead. And those that aren't will be soon enough".
Caspian turned around. His eyes fell on the dwarf that stood before him and the boy frowned.
"What do you want? Congratulations?", Caspian retorted.
"You want your uncle's blood. So do we. You want his throne. We can get it for you", Nikabrik spoke.
The dwarf turned around and walked deeper into the how.
Caspian fidgeted in his spot.
Temptation was a dangerous thing and at that moment, Caspian was more than just tempted.
He glanced at the paintings once before following Nikabrik into the room with the Stone table.
"You tried one ancient power. It failed. But there is a greater power. One that kept even Aslan at bay for a near hundred years", the dwarf spoke, his voice dripping with malice.
Caspian heard movement from behind.
He drew his sword and turned to look at the intruder.
"Who's there?".
Two cloaked figures walked out of the shadows towards him and the boy sensed a feeling of deja vu.
"I am hunger. I am thirst. I can fast a hundred years and not die. I can lie a hundred nights on the ice and not freeze. Show me your enemies", the two figures spoke and Caspian inched back slowly.
"You were the ones at the woods that night. I thought you were dead", Caspian mumbled, his sword still pointed at the two.
He feared they had come back for Aria.
They threw their hoods off and Caspian almost reeled back at the sight of the werewolf and hag that stood before him.
"There are more of us. We carry out the wishes of one. What you hate so will we. No one hates better than us".
Caspian shuddered at their raspy voices.
His eyes narrowed at the hag.
"You can guarantee Miraz's death?", the boy asked.
It is true that they were indeed creatures of dark magic and they poised a threat to Aria.
But it was only because Miraz had ordered them to do so.
What was the price he had paid for asking them so?
Was it the power that Aria holds?
What was it that they needed now?
"And more", the hag replied.
Caspian relaxed his grip on his sword but held it pointing towards them.
"You can guarantee that Aria will not be hurt?".
"The spirit will stay. Your enemies will fall", they replied and Caspian put away his sword.
He looked at Nikabrik and the dwarf nodded.
"Let the circle be drawn".
•••○•••
Aria walked back into the how with Edmund.
Her arm ached slightly, not having tended to her wounds but she knew it would be alright in a day or two.
She inspected the cloth wrapped around her arm.
It was a nasty brown red and Aria frowned at the sight.
Edmund picked at the cloth, shaking his head in disapproval.
He grabbed Aria's hand, determined to get her wound seen to when the girl suddenly stopped in her tracks.
Aria wrapped her hands around herself, a chill running down her spine.
She looked around her.
The cold was not normal.
It was almost inhumane.
A certain power behind it.
And Aria's heart dropped.
The girl rushed through the dark, torch lit hallways.
She didn't know where she was supposed to go but she was not looking forward to what she was about to see.
"Aria!", Edmund called out.
"What's wrong?", he grabbed the girl by the arm, making her stop.
Her eyes darted around, not knowing what to say.
There had been only one time when she had felt the same shiver that shook her whole body.
That made her heart drop.
When she was looking into the coal black eyes of the white witch.
"Caspian", Aria mumbled.
She looked up at the boy and set off again.
Edmund followed close behind without any questions.
"Aria!".
The girl snapped around to see Edmund running in the direction of the stone table.
Aria stumbled into the room, her eyes shifting from Edmund fighting a hooded figure to a towering ice wall.
Aria's breath hitched in her throat.
The white witch stood in the ice wall, her hand extended out and gaining colour as she came to life.
Aria felt an icy terror blossom in her chest and expand, making it harder to breathe.
Her gaze shifted from one person to another before landing on Caspian who stood with his arm extended.
Aria swallowed, pushing away the momentary fear she had and made her way to the boy.
She stopped midway when Peter pushed Caspian away, taking the spot where the boy had been.
Peter drew his sword and glared at the witch.
Jadis drew away in surprise but her frown was quickly replaced with an enticing smile.
"Peter dear, I have missed you. Come, just one drop", she spoke.
Peter stood rooted to his spot.
His eyes were almost entranced by the witch, the temptation washing over him as easily as water would.
His sword lowered slightly and his feet shuffled slightly closer.
But suddenly, it wasn't the white irises he was looking into.
But bright brown ones.
His sword arm was pushed back and arms enveloped him, two hands resting on his back.
Peter sunk into the warm embrace, his head settling in the crook of their neck.
And he felt himself being turned around, his back now facing the witch.
A loud scream pierced the air and the sound of falling ice echoed in the room.
Peter flinched, raising his arm above him to shield from the ice.
He glanced up to see Edmund standing where previously the ice wall stood, a sword in his hand.
"I know. You had it sorted", Edmund stated.
Peter swallowed, taking in his surroundings.
Guilt stabbed him like a knife as he thought about how easy it had been for him to give in.
His eyes then shifted to the girl next to him.
Her eyes rested on the broken ice, her chest rising and falling very quickly.
Aria looked up at Peter and the boy stared back, not knowing what to say.
Her eyes shifted to their hands.
Peter hadn't realised that he had a firm grip on her wrist.
And he didn't want to let go.
He looked back up at the girl and when she refused to meet his gaze, Peter let her go.
Aria sighed.
She had hoped the boy would embrace her, would bring her closer, would say something.
She expected anything other than for him to let go.
She brought her hands to her chest and glanced once at the boy before walking out of the room.