White Lion

Chapter Five

"I should go first," Beaver said hurriedly, tapping the ice to see where it splintered and where it didn't.

"You've been sneaking second helpings!" Ms. Beaver noted.

Beaver laughed, "You never know which meal could be your last. Especially with your cooking."

We were too worried to laugh.

The howls were getting closer, and the ice started to split.

"Well hello again," Maugrim pounced, his paw resting on Beaver, who fidgeted and squirmed, trying to get away.

"Let him go," I growled, grabbing my sword.

"Oh, Madilyn," Maugrim laughed, "Still as fearless as ever. Your father must be so proud."

My eyes narrowed to slits, "Let. Him. Go."

"No," Maugrim replied, his smirk revealing his fangs.

Peter stepped forward, holding his sword up. The argument went back and forth, Susan telling him to put it down, Beaver telling him to stab Maugrim.

But whatever happened, someone had to do something soon. The waterfall was coming apart.

I got an idea.

I stabbed my sword into a small crack in the ice in multiple different places. The ice began splitting, forcing Maugrim to step away from the beaver and jump to dry land with the rest of his pack.

Peter sensed what had happened and stabbed his sword into a pice of ice, everyone holding onto him to get a grip.

I put my sword back in my sheath and tried to join them, but the waterfall hit me too soon. Unable to see, I could barely get a breath.

A moment later, I was opening my eyes, blinking rapidly and coughing to get the water out of my lungs.

I looked around to see the others had dragged me out of the water.

"That was smart," Peter said, "Breaking the waterfall."

"Smart?" Susan asked, "We all nearly drowned!"

I laughed, "Better than getting mauled by wolves, don't you think?"

"We're nearly there," Beaver started hopping back and forward on his feet with excitement.

I marveled at the colorful tents, at the centaurs and talking beasts running around trying to prepare for battle.

And at the center of it all, I saw a golden lion walking majestically towards us.

I took a few steps forward, putting myself between Aslan and the others.

"Hello, little mouse," he said, tilting his head affectionately.

"Hi, dad," I couldn't stop the tears that poured from my eyes as I ran up to him and pulled him into a hug.

I heard the Pevensies gasp. I hadn't seen my father in years, so I ignored them.

Aslan then welcomed each of them to the camp, sending them all to get changed.

He then walked with me to a small tent beside his. I choked out, "I missed you."

"The time for reunions will come, little mouse," he said, "But first, you must prepare for battle."

I nodded that I understood and watched him walk away. I entered the tent and changed into Narnian clothes, which meant a light blue dress.

Picking up a mirror, I saw that I looked much like my mother. Blonde hair, bright blue eyes, same cocky smile. But I was more like my father.

Meaning I wasn't evil.

I still had my sword sheath over my back, my dagger at my waist, and my necklace around my neck.

Then, I followed Lucy and Susan down to the river at their request. They splashed each other with water, but I didn't move.

Until a heavy, furry mass pinned me to the ground.

"Don't run," Maugrim's voice rang over me, "I would prefer to kill you quickly."

The rest of the wolves circled as Lucy and Susan climbed a tree. I tried to wrestle my way out, but Maugrim had me pinned down so tightly I could barely breathe.

A horn rang out, Sudan's horn.

"Bye bye, princess," Maugrim chuckled, preparing his jaw to snap my neck.

But a roar of fury broke out, and Maugrim was startled enough to release my arm. I grabbed my dagger and sliced his paw, forcing him to let me go.

I readied my sword, as did the other warriors, but Aslan shook his head, "This is Peter's fight."

That meant I couldn't intervene.

I placed my sword back in its sheath, carefully helping Susan and Lucy down from the tree as Peter and Maugrim circled each other.

Eventually, Maugrim leapt forward, straight into Peter's sword. The other wolves scattered, the centaurs running after them to get to the witch's camp.

Aslan knighted Peter, then ran to join the centaurs.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

Peter nodded and followed his sisters up the hill to camp. I decided it was best to continue after them.

Aslan arrived back at camp, Edmund by his side. The siblings wanted to run to their brother, but by the look on Aslan's face, I stopped them.

"Let us talk to him," Susan growled at me.

"Let Aslan talk with him first," I said politely.

They understood and waited for Edmund outside of Aslan's tent. The two left.

"There is no need to talk to your brother of what is past," Aslan said, walking away.

One of the centaurs, Oreius, I believed he was called, started teaching Peter and Edmund to ride.

But the centaur laughed as they failed, and again as Edmund was startled by his talking horse.

"Let me try," I said as the centaurs brought a beautiful black mare towards me.

I had ridden bareback before, and I preferred it. The only reason I used the saddle was because Ms. Macready demanded it.

Oreius nodded and left me to try to teach them to ride, "Swords on horseback are only good if you can ride a horse," I stated.

After a few lessons, I could give them back to the centaurs for horseback battle practice. I joined Susan and Lucy by the archery targets.

Susan shot an arrow at the side of the target, while Lucy's dagger hit the center.

I didn't want to train, I just wanted to enjoy being here. Back home, in Narnia, surrounded by magic and joy. With my dad.

"Are you joining us?" Susan asked.

But before I could answer, something went cold. The air seemed to be made of ice, cold wind was blowing from the north, and I heard the distant sound of drums.

I muttered under my breath, "She's here."