Chapter Text
I trudged through the thick, biting snow, my breath clouding the air like phantom whispers. The night clung to me, heavy and oppressive, as if the very darkness of Narnia sought to pull me into its depths. Each step was a battle against the drifts, and yet the deeper ache was not in my legs but in my chest. What if Lucy was right? What if the White Witch really was a monster? The weight of my decision pressed on me like a vice, gnawing at my thoughts.
I had abandoned my siblings. At first, it had felt exhilarating, the thought of proving myself to someone so powerful, so regal. The Witch had promised me everything—power, a throne, respect, and, most temptingly, freedom from always being in Peter’s shadow. But now, with the cold seeping into my bones and the eerie silence of the woods surrounding me, doubt crept in like a parasite.
What if she was lying? What if she wasn’t the queen she claimed to be? The stories Lucy had told—about her cruelty, her hunger for power—were hard to dismiss now. What if she really did want to kill us? The thought sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
The beaver’s dam was long behind me, as was the warmth of the fire and the safety of my siblings. Peter, always so self-righteous, would call me a traitor if he knew. Susan would give me that look, the one that screamed disappointment without her ever saying a word. And Lucy… Lucy would cry. The image of her tear-streaked face tightened the knot in my stomach.
But it wasn’t too late, was it? I could turn back. I could find them, warn them, and beg for forgiveness. I stopped, my hand gripping a low-hanging branch to steady myself as the idea took root. I could—
A piercing howl shattered the stillness of the forest, cutting through my thoughts like a blade. Wolves. My heart leapt into my throat, and all thoughts of turning back vanished. She’d know if I betrayed her. The Witch would know, and she’d send her creatures after me. There was no escape now.
I pressed on, the snow crunching beneath my boots, the distant howls driving me forward. The Witch’s castle rose in the distance, a dark silhouette against the pale landscape. Its jagged towers reached toward the sky like claws, and a foreboding chill seemed to emanate from its very stones.
By the time I reached the gates, my legs were trembling, whether from the cold or fear, I couldn’t tell. The massive doors loomed before me, flanked by statues of snarling beasts frozen in eternal aggression. I hesitated, my fist hovering over the door, before finally summoning the courage to knock.
The sound echoed, hollow and ominous, but the doors creaked open far sooner than I expected. My breath caught as I stared into the eyes of the one who had answered.
She wasn’t the Witch. She was… younger. A girl, maybe a year or two younger than me, though her presence made her seem ageless. Her hair was stark white, cascading down her back like snowdrifts, and her skin was pale, almost translucent, as if the cold itself had shaped her. But it was her eyes that unnerved me the most—grey and lifeless, like storm clouds drained of their fury.
She said nothing at first, only tilted her head as she studied me, her expression unreadable.
“You’re not the queen,” I blurted out, the words escaping before I could stop them.
Her lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, as if amused by my observation. “And you’re not as clever as I was told… You’re late.” she said, her voice soft but cutting.
I froze, unsure whether to approach or back away. “I—I wasn’t aware I had a schedule.”
She tilted her head, studying me like one might examine a particularly unremarkable insect. “Clearly. And yet, here you are. The infamous traitor.”
The word hit me like a slap. “I’m not a traitor!” I snapped, louder than I intended.
Her lips curled into a faint smirk. “No? Then what would you call selling out your siblings to the Witch? A favor?”
Heat rose to my cheeks, though I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or shame. “I didn’t sell them out. I—I came here to help. The Witch said—”
She stood abruptly, and the movement was so sudden and graceful that it felt almost inhuman. “The Witch says a lot of things. You’d do well to remember that.”
I swallowed hard, my eyes darting to the door behind her. “I’m here to see her. She’s expecting me.”
“Is she now?” The girl stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter. “She’ll see you when she’s ready”
I faltered, caught off guard by her words, but eventually stepped inside. The castle was no warmer than the outside, its icy walls gleaming like a glacier. Statues lined the halls, grotesque figures frozen in expressions of terror. A shiver ran through me as I realized they weren’t just statues.
“Follow me.”
Reluctantly, I did as she said, though every instinct screamed at me to run in the opposite direction. She led me down a series of corridors, each one colder and darker than the last. By the time we reached what I could only assume was a dungeon, my teeth were chattering.
She unlocked a cell and gestured for me to step inside.
“Wait,” I stammered. “I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” she interrupted, her tone icy. “Welcome to your new accommodations, Edmund Pevensie.”
The door slammed shut behind me, the sound reverberating through the stone walls.
I slumped against the wall, my mind racing. I’d been a fool to come here. A complete, unredeemable fool.
“Psst.”
The voice was barely audible, but I turned toward the source anyway. In the corner of the cell, hidden in the shadows, was a familiar face.
“Tumnus?” I whispered.
The faun nodded, his expression grim. “What have you done, Edmund?”
I didn’t have an answer.
Hours passed. Time felt strange in the cold, unrelenting dark. Then, finally, the Witch came to see me. She was just as I remembered: beautiful, terrifying, and utterly commanding.
She didn’t speak right away, just stared at me with those piercing eyes that made me feel like she could see every cowardly thought in my head.
“You’ve disappointed me,” she said at last, her voice as cold as the room around us.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. What could I say?
“I gave you a simple task,” she continued, “and you failed.”
“I—I didn’t mean to—”
She held up a hand, silencing me. “But you can still prove your worth.”
Before I could ask what she meant, the door opened again, and Aria stepped inside.
“You’ll accompany her,” the Witch said, gesturing to her daughter. “Find your siblings. Bring them to me. Or don’t bother coming back.”
The carriage ride was silent, save for the occasional creak of the wheels over uneven ice. Aria sat next to me, her posture relaxed but her eyes watchful.
I stared out the window, guilt and dread twisting in my stomach. How had it come to this? How had I become the kind of person who put his own family in danger?
“You’re awfully quiet,” Aria said, breaking the silence.
I didn’t look at her. “What’s there to say?”
“Plenty,” she replied, her tone almost teasing. “But I suppose regret does have a way of stealing words.”
Her comment stung, but I didn’t rise to the bait. I couldn’t afford to.
The journey stretched on, and with every passing moment, the weight of what I’d done pressed heavier on my chest. I’d made a deal with the devil, and now my family might pay the price.