Chapter Text
Chapter one: Pevensey’s?
Reader’s pov until stated otherwise
My fingers elegantly glide over the piano keys as the pice of music drifts through the icy castle softly. Totally absorbed in the melody I feel myself drift away. Away from my home. Away from the spiteful servants. Away from my mom. Away from the pain that weighs so heavily in the very air here that it feels like you can’t breathe.
A knock on my music room door startles both myself and Mr. Paris. I stopped playing the pice as the spell that was drifting me away came to a sudden halt.
Mr. Paris is my tutor… or at least the current one… My mom has a bad habit of killing my tutors. I managed to keep mom from killing him because Mr. Paris is my favorite servant since my nanny Abby whom my mother killed when I was seven. Abby tried to take me away from my mom to somewhere where I could see other people my age… mom didn't like that.
“Enter” Mr. Paris called towards the door. In came a grumpy dwarf with a sneer like smile that could sour dairy, holding a large tray of food. Mr. Paris and I cringed as he tricked his muddy shoes through the room to set the tray down on the table in the back under the biggest window.
A small, “Thank you.” floats from my lips.
Only to be answered with a snide, “As highness wishes.” from the dwarf as he goes back through the door and closes it harshly.
“And I thought you were the one I was supposed to teach some manners.” Mr. Paris says to me with his crooked smile and twinkling eyes.
We laugh and head over to the table to eat our lunch.
“I heard that your mother is going tonight leaving you alone for dinner again tonight.” Comes the slightly gravely voice of Mr. Paris from the other side of the table before he sips his tea. I look up and see his little mischievous smile in his eyes, and can’t help but smile right back at him.
What only Mr. Paris, Tommen, and I know is that I cherish dinners without mom. Those are the only nights where I can sneak down to the cells to bring food down. My mothers prisoners all have such amazing lives and stories to tell me and happily trade them for the food and drinks that I bring with me. Although sometimes we just sit and eat in silent solidarity most times we talk.
(a/n more on Tommen (much) later, just know he’s a good friend)
Mr. Paris and I finish eating, and my lessons a little later than usual because we got into a new piece we were working on.
I reach my arms up high stretching with a sigh.
“Ready to call it a day short stuff?” Mr. Paris asks from the second piano where he is sitting.
Nodding, I hum the bits we have so far. “Dinner should be delivered to my chambers soon.” Mr. Paris and I head towards the north wing, where my room is.
Mr. Paris and I chat about my lessons from today and for tomorrow till we stop at my door. “Good night Highness.” Grins Mr. Paris with an exaggerated bow.
“And a good night to you as well good Sir.” I reply with a similarly exaggerated bow. Making us both laugh. I say with a small smile“Good night Mr. Paris”.
“Good night (y/n).” Came Mr. Paris’s warm reply with a gentle, crooked smile as he opened my door for me.
About a half hour later my food is brought to my room by the same grumpy, and rude dwarf. Again my “enter.” And “thank you” are ignored or only snidely responded to. Not that I care. I’m not even paying attention really…
Listening at the door for the footsteps of the dwarf to go back to the stairs that led to the throne room. “TAP. TAP. TAp. TAp. Tap. Tap. tap. tap. ta-.” His footsteps slowly disappear. Once I’m sure that he is out of hearing range I start backing the food and drink to bring down to the cells with me.
The jam, and cheeses that I had been saving for the next time I go down are safely aded to the bag with the warm toast, berries, hot honey ham, deviled eggs, and everything else that I could fit inside. Carefully sealing the drinks for the trip I take off my shoes. They are too loud.
Tying the drinks together so that they don’t rattle too much I locate my ‘stealth gear’. It’s really just a dark cloak and a simple dark dress but I made them in secret from my mom.
I keep my ‘stealth gear’ in a hidden spot behind a pelt my mom hung in my room when I was small. Earlier that month my favorite wolf, who guarded me around the grounds during strolls in the day, went ‘missing’. Mom killed him and hung his pelt in my room as a reminder that I wasn’t aloud outside… EVER. It took me three months to put it together, a week to come out of my room…she ended up forcing me out of my room, and Tommen convincing me that only more people would get hurt if I didn’t act like I didn't care/notice for me to act like ‘normal’ again.
The sound of bells snap me out of the mournful trance that I had fallen into. I look out to see mom leaving on her sleigh, crown atop head, staff in hand, icy aura and all. She must be doing something secret. I don my ‘stealth gear’, grab the bag with the drinks, and head as stealthily as I can towards the cells.
It’s been longer than usual since I have been able to visit the cells and this time feels even more nerve wrackingly silent and eerie in the castle. Mom has been upset about something as of late that has her on edge. The whole castle has been antsy and now on red alert as of the last week. Extra spies, more hunts for Alslan loyal Narnians, and seemingly even less mercy than before.
My footsteps are nearly soundless, my breathing is as quiet as a mouse, and yet my palms are sweaty, my heart is hammering and sometimes I even realize I’m not breathing.
“YOU!” I stopped dead in my tracks thinking that I got caught. “Go get her majesty's room ready for her return!” I realize that they aren’t talking to me and holding my hand over my mouth I slowly slink into the nearest dark shadow to wait for things to die down… at least enough that I can pass by the back servants doorway, where all the laundry is taken to be cleaned, towards the cells without being caught.
Footsteps come closer to the door. Closer. Closer. Till whoever is on the other side is practically at the door. “GRIP!” Comes a call from farther off. The steps pause and I slink by while they are talking.
“WHAT IS IT NOW GREF! I GOTTA GO TO HER MAJESTIES’S CHAMBERS TO MAKE HER BED!” The close voice SHOUTS.
“DO YOU THINK THAT THAT PEVENSIE BRAT IS GONNA BE DRAGGED ALONG WITH HER MAJESTY? OR WILL SHE JUST KILL HIM?” The far voice shouts again.
“NO! YOU NIM WITTED OGRE FACED IMBECILE!!! SHE NEEDS THE BOY ALIVE TO LURE THE OTHER PEVENSIE’S INTO HER GRASP! THEN SHE’LL KILL THEM ALL!!!” The closer voice snaps back as I scurry around the corner towards the cells.
‘I hope the Pevensies realize that mom needs the boy alive and make it away from here as fast as they can till they can come back for him.’ I think as I continue towards the cells.
I make the last turn to the cells and spot a boy only a little younger than me. “Hello! Mr. Tummus who is our new friend?” I ask softly.
The boy answers me with “Mr. Tummus can’t answer right now.” as I get closer and take off my bag.
“Well he should wake up soon, because…” I take out Mr. Tummus’s favorite jam with a flourish “I brought his favorite tonig-” I drop the jam and it shatters against the floor as I see Mr. Tummus frozen as a statue. I drop to my knees and start to feel myself cry as I look at his fear filled frame. The faun had become a rather good friend over the last few visits and to see him like this is so hard. It always is.
Sound, time, and even the world around me became a staticky blur. Everything except Mr. Tummus’s look of pure terror knowing what was coming for him.