ENTANGLED

Previously, on Entangled:

Princess Andrantiel, from a small kingdom named Celestine, came to Narnia to ask for help against the war threat of the Tarkaans. Peter answered the call, but the decision brought Narnia ill fate. Somehow, the broken piece of the White Witch's blade found its way to the hands of the Tarkaans, fusing itself among the blades used in the battle. As a result of this, the wound caused by the blades couldn't be healed, and Narnia fell into the darkness.

Knowing the horror she had caused, Andrantiel decided to break her ancestors' deepest secrets to save Narnia. The existence of the Herbs of Mistari, a legendary herb that was rumored to be able to heal anything, had not been proved, but Andrantiel convinced Peter that they could find it in the heart of the Unnamed Woods. Led by an ancient manuscript, it was easy to find the unidentified forest, but to conquer it was a different matter.

In the woods, Andrantiel, Peter, and four of their knights were ambushed by the forest's army. The whole forest was alive by itself, turning against them, so it seemed that there was no way they could win if not for Aslan, who appeared out of nowhere and restored the peace of the woods. After the mayhem, the Herbs of Mistari was waiting for them, spreading all over the heart of the forest. It brought out hope, but one that was short-lived, because then Andrantiel realized that Peter had also been wounded by the wicked blade.

Andrantiel forced Peter to get first aid on his wounds by crushing the herbs, but without proper handling it wasn't quite as efficient.

Upon their arrival in Narnia, the wounds finally took its toll on the High King. However, Andrantiel's problem didn't stop there, because apart from the whole Narnians, Celestine's finest knights were also greeting them, leaving Andrantiel wondering whether she could escape from her father this time around.

Chapter Twenty One: Waiting for the Anvil to Fall

Andrantiel almost couldn't conceal her astonishment. She knew that convincing Lord Alfgard of Celestine, her father's most trusted knight, that she was needed in Narnia – that all of them Celestines were, actually – in Narnia was a hard task. He did, at the very least, share the same principles and sulky expression as the King of Celestine.

However, being a daughter of the King also gave Andrantiel the advantage of a lifetime experience on how to handle the knight, who was, after all, still relatively less complicated than her father.

But none of the things above could prevent her from being caught off guard by what the Lord actually said right after she approached him and his fellow knights, who all bore the most grave expression she had ever encountered.

"Greetings, My Lady," Lord Alfgard had said. "Your King and Queen of Celestine wished me to express their disapproval upon the Princess' doing a few nights ago, which they see as some rash action."

Andrantiel remembered, and her jaw tightened upon hearing so.

"And what was it they wished me to do?" she replied with the coldest tone she could muster.

Lord Alfgard looked slightly alarmed.

"They would very much had preferred it if you had taken some more aid with you."

Andrantiel remembered just standing there, stunned, until she finally noticed another group of Celestines among the knights she had limited her sight upon: their finest potion makers.

Now, a few days later, she still couldn't restrain her lips from forming some smiles whenever she recalled the scene. It was, after all, an extraordinarily rare event for her father to actually come around.

She felt she could give the old man of hers some tight hugs which she hadn't done since she stopped being called 'little princess'.

Andrantiel turned to the regal corridor where the chambers of kings were, feeling slightly uneasy. She hadn't set her feet there ever since their return from the Unnamed Woods, and if Andrantiel would ever dare to admit it, she actually did her best to stay away. She had sent her best healers to aid the two kings these last few days while she got busy – pretended to be busy – helping Susan and Lucy attend to everybody else.

Originally, she planned to keep on doing it, until one of her eldest and most trusted healers – whom she respected deeply – pointed out that it wasn't the best way to proceed.

Andrantiel sighed. Nothing good can come out of this, she thought, playing with some loose bandage she had in the basket she was holding. And it isn't like Peter still needs the Mistari. She wondered why she still carried the full healing equipment with her, because after a few days of Mistari treatment, the wounds that were caused by the enchanted blade had sealed, and the main objective of the healers these days was only to restore the spirits of the previously wounded knights.

But she couldn't avoid Peter forever. Sooner or later she had to give him her side of the story, and Andrantiel hated the fact that she acknowledged this.

How clever are those people who say that ignorance is bliss.

To her surprise, her anxieties were forgotten for a while as she strode into the room.

She had imagined the chamber of the High King to be many things, but she was left in awe nevertheless. It was majestic, of course, but only came across so when she had consciously pondered about it in her head.

The word that first sprung up to describe the chamber was "peaceful".

It was dominated by earthen colors: brown, hazel, and ivory. Nothing stood out, neither the wooden furniture had been exquisitely carved by Narnia's best carpenters, Andrantiel was sure, nor the touch of gold on the rims of the paintings inside the room. It was all blended together, and viewing the chamber as a whole, it reminded her slightly of Narnian forests. The smell was something else, but the feeling of serenity couldn't possibly be mistaken.

The lighting also supported this look, as the lamps were mostly dim except for some few. One lamp highlighted a particular area of the room that Andrantiel guessed to be where Peter had been reviewing some parchment or doing his reading. Many huge pillows were placed on top of one another on one spot, with many papers full of writings and diagrams scattered all around them, leaving a hole in the middle, presumably for Peter to sit on.

There was only one other lamp that also burnt strongly, and it was the lamp that was placed on the bedside table. Andrantiel let out another sigh of relief when she saw that the bed – a large, canopied one – was empty. The sheet was left jumbled with an opened book on top of it.

Andrantiel was really looking forward to the prospect of prolonging her 'cat-and-mouse' game with Peter when someone burst her bubble out of the blue.

It was the faun who served as the guard of the chamber. He bowed to Andrantiel. "Your Majesty is waiting at the balcony, Milady."

The Princess scolded the completely innocent faun in her mind. How dared he bring her crashing back to reality?

More than reluctant, she stepped onto the terrace. And there Peter was, standing with his back to her with the endless view of Narnia spread out in front of him.

"Peter," she called softly.

The King turned, beckoning her to join him. Andrantiel did and followed his gaze downward.

Far away below them was the recovering Narnia. Centaurs were back into their training, banging their swords into each other. The bears carried some wood logs with some beavers who tackled the branches, and they were talking animatedly. The rats were too small to be seen from so high above, but Andrantiel knew that it was they who were flocking around two dryads. A group of knights stood behind them; one put his elbow on another's shoulder while the other was laughing.

Everybody seemed to be having a great time, and Andrantiel couldn't help but smile. Who wouldn't, when the sun had risen again and it was so beautiful outside?

"I don't know where I should begin to express my gratitude."

If only she could bask in the gratitude that Peter showed without the debt of explanation-

But Peter was no fool. He was never a fool.

Andrantiel stood as stiff as steel, waiting for the anvil to fall.

"But to whom?" Peter paused only for a second. "Andra," Andrantiel flinched at the emphasis of her name, "Is it really you that the Tarkaan lord wants? Princess Andrantiel of the small kingdom Celestine, or something else entirely?"

Author's note:

Hey all, I'm still here. Still alive, LoL.

As of right now, I'm feeling bad because I've been lagging this story for such a long time (Dec 05)! It's not my intention! My original plan was to finish this long before the arrival of 'Prince Caspian', but what can I say? Some things can't always go your way.

However, I am aware that by publishing the very first chapter of this fic, it is only right that I finish it. So here I am (despite the 'hell week' I'm gonna have - wish me luck!!) Expect the final two chapters in a few weeks!

Thank you all for reading! And thank you again to Miss Pookamonga, you're such an awesome beta reader!