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The Witch, the Hag and the Werewolf
0 reviewsSo who is this mysterious Red Lady? We're about to find out.
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THE LION, THE CAT AND THE TURTLES
Chapter Seven:
The Witch, the Hag and the Werewolf
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The Red Lady sighed and toyed with the ruby on her necklace.
Why did everything have to be so difficult? Nearly a week had passed since she first heard reports of that green-skinned creature who had somehow seen through her enchantments and killed two of her werewolves, and that, apparently, had only been the start of those horrible and rude complications the creature was making for her.
Thanks to the green creature, Cair Paravel was now guarded so well, and by so many eyes that not even her stealthiest subjects, aided by her subtlest magics, could get in undetected. Dwarfs and centaurs and magicians, all keeping the castle as impregnable as... well, as her own fortress, really. (The only real difference being that everyone knew where Cair Paravel was, while few people knew that her fortress even existed, much less where it was located.)
And the green creature was still out there. Reports from her spies informed her that he'd pledged his alliance to king Rilian and had vowed to find and probably destroy her, the Red Lady. Normally, she wouldn't have been too concerned about this, because a witch -- especially an immortal and ageless one -- makes many enemies in her long life, and so far she had been able to deal with most of her enemies.
But this green creature... if he was an agent of Aslan, as she suspected, he would probably mean a lot more trouble. That wretched Lion never chose an agent that wasn't far more dangerous than it would seem at first -- from the rumors and stories the Red Lady had heard, you wouldn't have guessed that the four children that first stumbled so helplessly into Narnia during the Hundred-Year Winter would turn out to be four of the most dangerous opponents ever, ancient prophecy or not. And who could forget the two children and the marsh-wiggle from just a few years back? The Red Lady had seen them with her own eyes, however briefly, and they were so weak and pitiful that she could have destroyed them all with a flick of her wrist; and yet they had toppled the mighty underground empire of her sister, the Lady in Green, just hours after they'd entered it.
But then again, the Red Lady thought to herself, my sister always was a bit of an idiot. Going around and turning herself into snakes, as if that ever helped anyone. She giggled as a new thought struck her. I bet she looked incredibly silly when she died, knowing that she'd been defeated by two baby children and a marsh-wiggle. Here she was, having survived for more than a thousand years after the Hundred-Year Winter, plotting in secrecy and just getting ready to take over Narnia... and then: Ooops, dead because of two babies and a frogface!
She laughed heartily at this, imagining the dumbstruck face of her sister in her last moments. Maybe she'd even turned into a snake by then, and the look of a snake in embarrassment and shock had to be something worth seeing. The Red Lady was almost sorry she'd missed that.
Still, she mused as her mirth died, she was my sister, and I am under an obligation of honor to avenge her and preferably see to it that her plans of conquest of all Narnia are honored and carried out. What a drag.
As she thoughtfully stared at the ruby, she saw something that immediately brought her good mood back: Her own reflection, pale and unclear and not at all as good as it would have been in a proper mirror but still easily identified as her, and in glorious red to boot.
She really was pretty, she thought with great satisfaction as she cocked her head and admired the sight. No, she was more than pretty, she was gorgeous. Why, even the fabled Queen Swanwhite from long ago, whom the legends claimed was "so beautiful that if her face were reflected in a pool the image of her face remained for a year and a day" would have appeared as plain and unattractive next to the Red Lady. Not that the Red Lady's reflection ever remained behind her, of course, but whoever believed in those old legends anyway? Queen Swanwhite had died, presumably of old age, long before the Red Lady herself had been born, and not even Jadis, the White Witch, who had been around since the very beginning of Narnia, had seen her in person.
No, the Red Lady suddenly thought, she really couldn't sit around and just admire herself now. There was work to be done, plans to be made, annoying green creatures to be taken care of.
She winked coquettishly to her reflection before tearing herself away from it, instead clutching the ruby and commanding in a loud, clear voice: "I want the captain of the werewolves here. Now. Oh, and he's to bring that old woman, Ylgameth," she added almost as an afterthought.
The ruby glowed for a brief moment, as if in acknowledgement.
Not two minutes later, two people entered her throne room; one was the captain of the werewolves, in his human form, and the other, being pulled along, was an old, white-haired and remarkably ugly woman. She met the Red Lady's eyes immediately, her face filled with barely-hidden contempt -- but at least it also contained some of the proper submission that a weaker person should show when faced with a superior.
"You called us, M'lady," said the werewolf, bowing without letting go of the old woman's hand.
"Yes, I did," said the Red Lady, acknowledging them both with a short nod. "I called you here because you're the most loyal and the brightest of all my werewolves, and I asked you to bring the old woman because I, however much I might dislike most of the idiotic things she say, might need her council."
"M'lady," said the old woman, managing to make it sound almost like an insult. Immediately, she gave a shriek of pain.
"None of your cheek, Ylgameth" said the Red Lady, clutching her ruby and delighting in seeing the ugly old woman doubling over with the agony. "You don't like me and I don't like you, but I'm still the youngest and the last -- and the most beautiful -- of the Narnian Witches, and as such I am your superior, and you will respect me as such. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"
"Perfectly... M'lady...!" Ylgameth managed to say.
"Good." The Red Lady let go of the ruby, and watched the old woman steady herself, breathing in relief. "Now that that's out of the way, I have been thinking about this green creature that's been stopping my plans. We don't know much about him, other than that he's apparently capable of seeing through my invisibility enchantments, and a skilled enough fighter to take on three werewolves on its own. Where did he come from, and what does he want?"
"If you would just heed my council, M'lady, we wouldn't need to bother with the green creature," said Ylgameth.
The Red Lady glared at her. "For the very last time," she said (although she knew she had said this 'for the very last time' at least ten times before and would probably say it 'for the very last time' many times after this), "I am not going to call Jadis back to life."
"With all due respect, M'lady," said Ylgameth, with very little actual respect, "Queen Jadis was the first Narnian Witch, and also the oldest and most powerful. She alone had the power to gather all the dark creatures of this world: The cruels, the succubi and the incubi, the wraiths, the efreets, the orknies..."
"I know, I know, you don't have to list them all."
"The point is, only the White Witch could unite them. When she died, the only ones who remained loyal to the Witch Clan were the hags and the werewolves. Even the black dwarfs are refusing to have anything to do with you anymore. Your sister made an attempt, at least, by trying to get the giants back as our allies, and the enslavement of the gnomes and salamanders, but now that she is dead, all her attempts are for naught."
"And good riddance, I say," the Red Lady snorted. "The giants are idiots, the gnomes are cowards and the salamanders are useless. I can't even begin to imagine what my sister saw in them in the first place. We don't need any of them. And besides," she added, glaring at Ylgameth, "I'm not stupid. I know perfectly well that when a witch is called back to life she'll be so furious that she kills everyone around her. It's one thing to trick those Aslan-followers to do it -- and the last time someone tried that, it was a spectacular failure -- but personally I see no reason to waste the lives of perfectly good werewolves and hags, not to mention myself. My sister and I were in full agreement on that, at least."
"And I repeatedly gave your sister the same council when I served her. She was a sensible woman, your sister, and it was on my advice that the attempt to trick our enemy into resurrecting Queen Jadis was made. Back in the days of Miraz the Usurper --"
"Miraz the Usurper has been dead for decades, and so has just about everyone else who was involved in that idiotic plan!" snapped the Red Lady. "Please don't bore me with tedious details of what you did when you worked for my sister. I couldn't care less."
"M'lady..." Ylgameth's voice turned sweet, soothing and pleasant, all hostility and loathing suddenly vanishing. "I beg you to reconsider. After all, we do not have to do the ritual ourselves, we can easily find someone else to do it..."
The Red Lady blinked, suddenly feeling quite light-headed. Of course... what Ylgameth said did make perfect sense. How come she hadn't realized this before?
"I can persuade them into doing anything, M'lady, and we ourselves can just make sure to stay away from their immediate surroundings when the Queen returns. And then, after she calms down she will reunite everyone who once were on her side... on our side... and under her we will restore Narnia to its former glory..."
The Red lady nodded, almost without knowing it. Yes... it all made such perfect sense. Ylgameth was so wise, and kind, and her voice was ever so pleasant to listen to... her advice had to be followed... she had to be obeyed...
...obeyed...
...what?!
With an angry growl, she snapped out of her trance and clutched the ruby again, harder than ever before. "How dare you!" she spat at Ylgameth, who once again was screaming in pain, falling over and writhing in agony on the floor. "How dare you try to -- to -- enchant me with that voice of yours?! If you ever try anything like that again, I will kill you! I don't care how useful your advice has been in the past!"
"And if the Lady doesn't;" snarled the werewolf, who looked like he too was coming out of a trance and was not too happy about having been lured into one in the first place, "I will! We are both her sworn subjects, and we will follow no-one but her! M'lady," he added, glancing up with bloodlust in his eyes. "Permission to teach this uppity hag an extra lesson?"
"Permission denied," said the Red Lady, and after a bit of inner debate loosening the grip on her ruby. "That is, unless she doesn't cooperate perfectly from now on and gives me some sort of useful advice. Well?" she added, looking at Ylgameth, who was still on the floor and gasping.
"M'lady," said the werewolf when it became clear that the hag was too out of breath to speak at the moment. "If you will permit me to say so, the green creature can surely be disposed of quite easily. If we catch him far enough away from Cair Paravel, we can lead a major attack on him. Even he would not be able to fight against fifty werewolves."
"You would do that for me? You're so sweet," the Red Lady cooed. "Of course, you are all completely in my power and I could always order you to go and to exactly that, and you would suffer horrible, horrible pain if you dared resisting me, but it's nice of you to offer to do it of your own free will, all the same." She blew him a kiss. "But I don't think that's the way to go. Besides, who knows when he will be far enough away from the protection of Cair Paravel? For all we know, he could decide to become the king's personal bodyguard or something like that."
"Wait..." said Ylgameth from the floor, struggling to raise herself and failing. "Here's an... idea... for you... All you have to do is... put the green creature... under the same spell that you had... intended for the king."
"I would need a part of him for that, you idiot," said the Red Lady. "A tooth, some skin scrapings, a fingernail... or does he even have fingernails? I'm not sure. But I'd need some small part of him here, with me, for the spell to work. Why do you think I sent the werewolves to Cair Paravel to begin with? They were going to fetch a part of the king -- a strand of hair, or whatever. But since the green creature is at Cair Paravel, and the king is at Cair Paravel, and Cair Paravel is currently impossible to get to for even our most savage warriors or powerful spell-workers, the idea is completely and utterly useless. Thank you for your horribly bad advice."
"Put a spell... on someone else," said Ylgameth, who was recovering and talking a little more easily now. "Someone inconspicuous... someone you can put under your control and send to Cair Paravel... to get the parts from both the king and the green creature. I can find a woodland creature and enchant it, and then --"
"Thank you, but I think we've had quite enough of your enchantments," said the Red Lady. "I wouldn't trust you to do even the tiniest bit of magic for me, not after what you tried to do to me right now. Still," she added, more thoughtfully, "it wasn't such a bad idea. With some modifications to it, it just might work. Thank you, Ylgameth."
"My pleasure, M'lady," said Ylgameth, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.
"Right. You're both dismissed. Captain, take Ylgameth to a convenient spot -- you know, somewhere where it won't matter if some blood is spilled -- and then rip out her voice box so she won't be able to use her voice against me again," said the Red Lady sweetly.
"My pleasure, M'lady!" the werewolf growled, grabbing the hag with both hands.
"But -- wait!" Ylgameth protested as she was dragged out of the throne room. "I beg you, M'lady, don't do this! How will I ever give you advice again if I can't speak?!"
"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll see to it that you're provided with plenty of ink and parchment," said the Red Lady with a giggle. "You do know how to write, don't you? Bye-bye, now!"
I should have done that five years ago! she thought with an immense feeling of satisfaction as she leant back on her throne and let the giggling fit overpower her.
Ylgameth had really been such a pain ever since she had entered the Red Lady's service five years ago, with her constant whining about how they should resurrect Jadis. But she was the oldest, and wisest, though not by any means the most powerful, of the hags, so she was handy to keep around in case some good advice was ever needed.
Ylgameth didn't realize this, of course, but it would have been the easiest thing in the world for the Red Lady to wipe the hag's mind, make her forget everything about Jadis and her obsession with resurrecting her: The problem was that she couldn't have done it without at the same time removing a good part of her experience and wisdom. No, better to just let her keep her mind and instead remove her voice.
And that had actually been pretty good advice, even if Ylgameth hadn't quite realized how good. After all, very few hags and werewolves knew the real reason why they, unlike all the other former members of Jadis's army, stayed loyal to the dwindling Witch Clan...
It was old magic. Get a small piece of someone -- a strand of hair, a tooth, a fingernail -- and you've got them under your control. And werewolves shedded like mad, and hags needed to cut their nails approximately once a week.
The Red Lady stroked her ruby, almost as if it was a beloved pet, and went back to admiring her pale reflection. A very beautiful and very evil grin had appeared on the reflection's gorgeous face, and its eyes twinkled with mirth and mischief.
"You are so cute when you're scheming," she lovingly told the reflection, being rewarded with the look of mutual adoration.
Yes... she thought gleefully, her thoughts returning to the green creature. Just one small part of him, and then I'll have him in my power. And I think I know just what to do to make things happen... I just need to be patient...
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As the sun rose over Cair Paravel, Leonardo made his last preparations.
A few days of staying in the castle with the king, learning as much as he could about Narnia and its people, had been very interesting as preparations go, but now it was time to go out and actually do something.
It was, to put it bluntly, time to take this show on the road and go hunt a Red Lady.
King Rilian had offered him the use of a horse, but Leo had respectfully declined -- he was used to getting around on foot, and in some strange way it seemed like that weird something he had sensed in the Narnian air from early on was having a profound effect on him. It hadn't been as noticeable to begin with, but as the days had passed, Leo had noticed that he was changing, however slightly.
He'd noticed it first when doing his morning katas on the third day of his stay in the castle. He discovered that the moves came to him even more easily than normal, and a fascinated couple of hours had been spent testing out his newfound abilities. He could hit harder, jump higher, even perform acrobatic stunts that would have put top Olympic-level professionals -- or even Michelangelo -- to shame back in his own world.
After gawking at the perfect somersault Leo had performed down the castle's longest staircase (and landing perfectly on his feet, no less!) the king had explained that it was fairly normal for people from other worlds to experience something like this when they spent some time in Narnia.
Leo tried to not let it show how good he felt about it. All his life he had struggled to be the best he could be, and how he was really getting a taste of how marvelous it felt to fulfill your potential. True, if it was all the doing of the Narnian air, it probably wouldn't last beyond his stay in Narnia... but for a short, glorious time, he could be better than he'd ever been before, with the feeling that he could singlehandedly have taken on half the Foot clan if need be.
Even though he was still desperately hoping for a way to return home to his own family, he had to admit that if he was going to be stuck on his own in a strange country anyway, Narnia was about as good a place as he could have wished for. The people were friendly, he didn't have to live in secrecy, and he had -- for now, at least -- a job where he could put his skills to good use.
"I'm most sorry to see you go, master Leonardo," said king Rilian as he and a few others gathered at the castle gates to see Leonardo off. "You have been an excellent and most pleasant guest to have."
"Even if you do get up at ridiculous hours to do those sword dances of yours," said one of the dwarfs, stifling a yawn. "Then again," he added, "it's my own fault for finding them so interesting, I suppose, or I wouldn't have bothered to get up at the same time to watch."
Leonardo bowed. "I can't thank you all enough for your hospitality," he said. "But I have sworn to find the Red Lady, and so I will."
"I wish you would at least agree to let me, or some of my knights, go along with you," said the king wistfully.
"Begging your pardon, your majesty, but it's all in the best interest of the country that you stay here," said Puddleglum. "What with the witches and the werewolves and Aslan knows what else out there, it's the duty of the king to stay where it's safe, or at least as safe as any place can be in this world. The land and the king are one, so they say. We shall all simply have to take it on good faith that the castle doesn't collapse or we don't suddenly run out of food and starve to death or that your majesty doesn't get sick and die. It's all as likely to happen as it is to not happen, I shouldn't wonder, but at least you're in a good position avoid being mauled by wild animals or having a tree fall on you -- or meeting that witch, whoever she may be."
"Puddleglum," the king laughed, "a mother hen would have accused you of being too overprotective."
"You are the only king we have, your majesty, and if anything were to happen to you --"
"Be that as it may," Leo interrupted, really not feeling like hearing yet another of the marsh-wiggle's prophecies of doom, "I'm sure your knights are valiant and skilled, your majesty, but I have a sneaking suspicion that they'll be needed here."
"I shouldn't wonder," Puddleglum muttered.
"You should, at the very least, take a guide along," the king insisted. "You have been pouring over maps and listened to tales of all the different places, for certain, but it's always better to have someone along who knows the land firsthand."
There was a small shifting around in the small crowd as Moorwin took a few steps forward. The centauress had originally just intended to stay at Cair Paravel for the night, after the big royal banquet, but somehow the stay had extended to several days, and since most -- particularly king Rilian himself -- seemed to enjoy her company, nobody had complained.
"Your majesty," she said. "I would be honored to be Leonardo's guide, if he would care to have me. I have, with my father, travelled far and wide in Narnia, and I know the land well enough. Besides, I was planning on returning to the woods before long anyway."
The king nodded -- and somehow Leo got the feeling that he'd been waiting for this. "That is a fine suggestion, lady Moorwin," he said seriously, and the centauress looked down and blushed, obviously pleased at being called 'lady.' "Won't you take her, master Leonardo? I'm sure she'll be of great help. Centaurs are not only excellent trackers, but they have great wisdom and knowledge of the land as well."
Leo suppressed a grin. It seemed like the king really didn't want to send him off alone... he'd probably arranged this entire thing with Moorwin from beforehand and told her to wait until the moment of departure to make her suggestion, so that Leo couldn't easily refuse her without appearing to be rude. Smart, king Rilian... very smart.
Still, when he thought about it, Moorwin wasn't the worst travelling companion he could have...
He bowed again. "How can I refuse such a request? I'd be glad to have you along, Moorwin. Only..." he hesitated a bit. "I hope you won't be terribly offended if I said I preferred to walk instead of ride."
Moorwin laughed, as did quite a few others. "Absolutely no offense taken."
"It's settled, then," said king Rilian with great satisfaction. "Durbin, please fetch the equipment and provisions for Lady Moorwin? I did have it prepared, just in case," he added as the dwarf ran off to do as he was asked.
"Just in case," Moorwin agreed, exchanging looks with the king and blushing a little again.
Leo decided not to comment.
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To be continued....
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Author's Notes: If this story was a comic series, this chapter would have had the words "BIG 'RED LADY' ISSUE" on the cover, since we found out so much about her here -- she's the younger sister of the Lady in the Green Kirtle (in this story most commonly referred to as simply The Lady in Green), the villainess of The Silver Chair.
(She is also getting more and more fun to write, which is the main reason why she ended up dominating this chapter. She's so completely in love with herself, and so childish that she's almost cute... but, as shown here, she shouldn't be underestimated.)
Some people believe, based on the information about the resurrection of witches in Prince Caspian, that the Lady in Green is actually the same person as the White Witch, called back to life. This theory is at least partly supported by the fact that in they're both played by the same actress in the BBC TV series. However, for some reason I can't quite believe it; they strike me as very different individuals. So for the purpose of this story, the White Witch was, eventually, the Head of the Narnian Witch Clan (more on this Clan later) and the Lady in Green was, as is theorized by the owls in The Silver Chair another witch much like the White one, but younger, not quite as powerful, and subordinate to her. Both she and the Red Lady were present among all the evil creatures in the Witch's army, and they were among the few survivors who fled after the army was defeated and the Witch was killed.
After that, they more or less lived in hiding, although the Lady in Green did make certain attempts at a comeback, the biggest and in the end most disastrous (for her) being chronicled in, yes, The Silver Chair.
Of course, since the White Witch and the Lady in Green were not the same, I needed to at least explain why nobody had brought the White Witch back if it was so possible... But I think I managed to give an at least semi-plausible reason here: Anyone who tried would effectively have ended up dead. In Prince Caspian, where Nikabrik the dwarf together with the unnamed hag and werewolf discuss bringing her back -- or rather, trying to trick Caspian into bringing her back -- that would effectively have meant the end of Caspian and company if they had agreed to it. Lucky that Caspian wasn't too keen on bringing back the biggest tyrant in Narnia anyway...
Finally, Ylgameth the hag is original to this story and is not the same hag as the one from Prince Caspian -- that hag is dead -- but according to this story, Ylgameth was the "mastermind" behind the plan. Look out for more appearances by her later in the fic, because even with a destroyed voice box she won't stop plotting and scheming.
THE LION, THE CAT AND THE TURTLES
Chapter Seven:
The Witch, the Hag and the Werewolf
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The Red Lady sighed and toyed with the ruby on her necklace.
Why did everything have to be so difficult? Nearly a week had passed since she first heard reports of that green-skinned creature who had somehow seen through her enchantments and killed two of her werewolves, and that, apparently, had only been the start of those horrible and rude complications the creature was making for her.
Thanks to the green creature, Cair Paravel was now guarded so well, and by so many eyes that not even her stealthiest subjects, aided by her subtlest magics, could get in undetected. Dwarfs and centaurs and magicians, all keeping the castle as impregnable as... well, as her own fortress, really. (The only real difference being that everyone knew where Cair Paravel was, while few people knew that her fortress even existed, much less where it was located.)
And the green creature was still out there. Reports from her spies informed her that he'd pledged his alliance to king Rilian and had vowed to find and probably destroy her, the Red Lady. Normally, she wouldn't have been too concerned about this, because a witch -- especially an immortal and ageless one -- makes many enemies in her long life, and so far she had been able to deal with most of her enemies.
But this green creature... if he was an agent of Aslan, as she suspected, he would probably mean a lot more trouble. That wretched Lion never chose an agent that wasn't far more dangerous than it would seem at first -- from the rumors and stories the Red Lady had heard, you wouldn't have guessed that the four children that first stumbled so helplessly into Narnia during the Hundred-Year Winter would turn out to be four of the most dangerous opponents ever, ancient prophecy or not. And who could forget the two children and the marsh-wiggle from just a few years back? The Red Lady had seen them with her own eyes, however briefly, and they were so weak and pitiful that she could have destroyed them all with a flick of her wrist; and yet they had toppled the mighty underground empire of her sister, the Lady in Green, just hours after they'd entered it.
But then again, the Red Lady thought to herself, my sister always was a bit of an idiot. Going around and turning herself into snakes, as if that ever helped anyone. She giggled as a new thought struck her. I bet she looked incredibly silly when she died, knowing that she'd been defeated by two baby children and a marsh-wiggle. Here she was, having survived for more than a thousand years after the Hundred-Year Winter, plotting in secrecy and just getting ready to take over Narnia... and then: Ooops, dead because of two babies and a frogface!
She laughed heartily at this, imagining the dumbstruck face of her sister in her last moments. Maybe she'd even turned into a snake by then, and the look of a snake in embarrassment and shock had to be something worth seeing. The Red Lady was almost sorry she'd missed that.
Still, she mused as her mirth died, she was my sister, and I am under an obligation of honor to avenge her and preferably see to it that her plans of conquest of all Narnia are honored and carried out. What a drag.
As she thoughtfully stared at the ruby, she saw something that immediately brought her good mood back: Her own reflection, pale and unclear and not at all as good as it would have been in a proper mirror but still easily identified as her, and in glorious red to boot.
She really was pretty, she thought with great satisfaction as she cocked her head and admired the sight. No, she was more than pretty, she was gorgeous. Why, even the fabled Queen Swanwhite from long ago, whom the legends claimed was "so beautiful that if her face were reflected in a pool the image of her face remained for a year and a day" would have appeared as plain and unattractive next to the Red Lady. Not that the Red Lady's reflection ever remained behind her, of course, but whoever believed in those old legends anyway? Queen Swanwhite had died, presumably of old age, long before the Red Lady herself had been born, and not even Jadis, the White Witch, who had been around since the very beginning of Narnia, had seen her in person.
No, the Red Lady suddenly thought, she really couldn't sit around and just admire herself now. There was work to be done, plans to be made, annoying green creatures to be taken care of.
She winked coquettishly to her reflection before tearing herself away from it, instead clutching the ruby and commanding in a loud, clear voice: "I want the captain of the werewolves here. Now. Oh, and he's to bring that old woman, Ylgameth," she added almost as an afterthought.
The ruby glowed for a brief moment, as if in acknowledgement.
Not two minutes later, two people entered her throne room; one was the captain of the werewolves, in his human form, and the other, being pulled along, was an old, white-haired and remarkably ugly woman. She met the Red Lady's eyes immediately, her face filled with barely-hidden contempt -- but at least it also contained some of the proper submission that a weaker person should show when faced with a superior.
"You called us, M'lady," said the werewolf, bowing without letting go of the old woman's hand.
"Yes, I did," said the Red Lady, acknowledging them both with a short nod. "I called you here because you're the most loyal and the brightest of all my werewolves, and I asked you to bring the old woman because I, however much I might dislike most of the idiotic things she say, might need her council."
"M'lady," said the old woman, managing to make it sound almost like an insult. Immediately, she gave a shriek of pain.
"None of your cheek, Ylgameth" said the Red Lady, clutching her ruby and delighting in seeing the ugly old woman doubling over with the agony. "You don't like me and I don't like you, but I'm still the youngest and the last -- and the most beautiful -- of the Narnian Witches, and as such I am your superior, and you will respect me as such. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"
"Perfectly... M'lady...!" Ylgameth managed to say.
"Good." The Red Lady let go of the ruby, and watched the old woman steady herself, breathing in relief. "Now that that's out of the way, I have been thinking about this green creature that's been stopping my plans. We don't know much about him, other than that he's apparently capable of seeing through my invisibility enchantments, and a skilled enough fighter to take on three werewolves on its own. Where did he come from, and what does he want?"
"If you would just heed my council, M'lady, we wouldn't need to bother with the green creature," said Ylgameth.
The Red Lady glared at her. "For the very last time," she said (although she knew she had said this 'for the very last time' at least ten times before and would probably say it 'for the very last time' many times after this), "I am not going to call Jadis back to life."
"With all due respect, M'lady," said Ylgameth, with very little actual respect, "Queen Jadis was the first Narnian Witch, and also the oldest and most powerful. She alone had the power to gather all the dark creatures of this world: The cruels, the succubi and the incubi, the wraiths, the efreets, the orknies..."
"I know, I know, you don't have to list them all."
"The point is, only the White Witch could unite them. When she died, the only ones who remained loyal to the Witch Clan were the hags and the werewolves. Even the black dwarfs are refusing to have anything to do with you anymore. Your sister made an attempt, at least, by trying to get the giants back as our allies, and the enslavement of the gnomes and salamanders, but now that she is dead, all her attempts are for naught."
"And good riddance, I say," the Red Lady snorted. "The giants are idiots, the gnomes are cowards and the salamanders are useless. I can't even begin to imagine what my sister saw in them in the first place. We don't need any of them. And besides," she added, glaring at Ylgameth, "I'm not stupid. I know perfectly well that when a witch is called back to life she'll be so furious that she kills everyone around her. It's one thing to trick those Aslan-followers to do it -- and the last time someone tried that, it was a spectacular failure -- but personally I see no reason to waste the lives of perfectly good werewolves and hags, not to mention myself. My sister and I were in full agreement on that, at least."
"And I repeatedly gave your sister the same council when I served her. She was a sensible woman, your sister, and it was on my advice that the attempt to trick our enemy into resurrecting Queen Jadis was made. Back in the days of Miraz the Usurper --"
"Miraz the Usurper has been dead for decades, and so has just about everyone else who was involved in that idiotic plan!" snapped the Red Lady. "Please don't bore me with tedious details of what you did when you worked for my sister. I couldn't care less."
"M'lady..." Ylgameth's voice turned sweet, soothing and pleasant, all hostility and loathing suddenly vanishing. "I beg you to reconsider. After all, we do not have to do the ritual ourselves, we can easily find someone else to do it..."
The Red Lady blinked, suddenly feeling quite light-headed. Of course... what Ylgameth said did make perfect sense. How come she hadn't realized this before?
"I can persuade them into doing anything, M'lady, and we ourselves can just make sure to stay away from their immediate surroundings when the Queen returns. And then, after she calms down she will reunite everyone who once were on her side... on our side... and under her we will restore Narnia to its former glory..."
The Red lady nodded, almost without knowing it. Yes... it all made such perfect sense. Ylgameth was so wise, and kind, and her voice was ever so pleasant to listen to... her advice had to be followed... she had to be obeyed...
...obeyed...
...what?!
With an angry growl, she snapped out of her trance and clutched the ruby again, harder than ever before. "How dare you!" she spat at Ylgameth, who once again was screaming in pain, falling over and writhing in agony on the floor. "How dare you try to -- to -- enchant me with that voice of yours?! If you ever try anything like that again, I will kill you! I don't care how useful your advice has been in the past!"
"And if the Lady doesn't;" snarled the werewolf, who looked like he too was coming out of a trance and was not too happy about having been lured into one in the first place, "I will! We are both her sworn subjects, and we will follow no-one but her! M'lady," he added, glancing up with bloodlust in his eyes. "Permission to teach this uppity hag an extra lesson?"
"Permission denied," said the Red Lady, and after a bit of inner debate loosening the grip on her ruby. "That is, unless she doesn't cooperate perfectly from now on and gives me some sort of useful advice. Well?" she added, looking at Ylgameth, who was still on the floor and gasping.
"M'lady," said the werewolf when it became clear that the hag was too out of breath to speak at the moment. "If you will permit me to say so, the green creature can surely be disposed of quite easily. If we catch him far enough away from Cair Paravel, we can lead a major attack on him. Even he would not be able to fight against fifty werewolves."
"You would do that for me? You're so sweet," the Red Lady cooed. "Of course, you are all completely in my power and I could always order you to go and to exactly that, and you would suffer horrible, horrible pain if you dared resisting me, but it's nice of you to offer to do it of your own free will, all the same." She blew him a kiss. "But I don't think that's the way to go. Besides, who knows when he will be far enough away from the protection of Cair Paravel? For all we know, he could decide to become the king's personal bodyguard or something like that."
"Wait..." said Ylgameth from the floor, struggling to raise herself and failing. "Here's an... idea... for you... All you have to do is... put the green creature... under the same spell that you had... intended for the king."
"I would need a part of him for that, you idiot," said the Red Lady. "A tooth, some skin scrapings, a fingernail... or does he even have fingernails? I'm not sure. But I'd need some small part of him here, with me, for the spell to work. Why do you think I sent the werewolves to Cair Paravel to begin with? They were going to fetch a part of the king -- a strand of hair, or whatever. But since the green creature is at Cair Paravel, and the king is at Cair Paravel, and Cair Paravel is currently impossible to get to for even our most savage warriors or powerful spell-workers, the idea is completely and utterly useless. Thank you for your horribly bad advice."
"Put a spell... on someone else," said Ylgameth, who was recovering and talking a little more easily now. "Someone inconspicuous... someone you can put under your control and send to Cair Paravel... to get the parts from both the king and the green creature. I can find a woodland creature and enchant it, and then --"
"Thank you, but I think we've had quite enough of your enchantments," said the Red Lady. "I wouldn't trust you to do even the tiniest bit of magic for me, not after what you tried to do to me right now. Still," she added, more thoughtfully, "it wasn't such a bad idea. With some modifications to it, it just might work. Thank you, Ylgameth."
"My pleasure, M'lady," said Ylgameth, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.
"Right. You're both dismissed. Captain, take Ylgameth to a convenient spot -- you know, somewhere where it won't matter if some blood is spilled -- and then rip out her voice box so she won't be able to use her voice against me again," said the Red Lady sweetly.
"My pleasure, M'lady!" the werewolf growled, grabbing the hag with both hands.
"But -- wait!" Ylgameth protested as she was dragged out of the throne room. "I beg you, M'lady, don't do this! How will I ever give you advice again if I can't speak?!"
"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll see to it that you're provided with plenty of ink and parchment," said the Red Lady with a giggle. "You do know how to write, don't you? Bye-bye, now!"
I should have done that five years ago! she thought with an immense feeling of satisfaction as she leant back on her throne and let the giggling fit overpower her.
Ylgameth had really been such a pain ever since she had entered the Red Lady's service five years ago, with her constant whining about how they should resurrect Jadis. But she was the oldest, and wisest, though not by any means the most powerful, of the hags, so she was handy to keep around in case some good advice was ever needed.
Ylgameth didn't realize this, of course, but it would have been the easiest thing in the world for the Red Lady to wipe the hag's mind, make her forget everything about Jadis and her obsession with resurrecting her: The problem was that she couldn't have done it without at the same time removing a good part of her experience and wisdom. No, better to just let her keep her mind and instead remove her voice.
And that had actually been pretty good advice, even if Ylgameth hadn't quite realized how good. After all, very few hags and werewolves knew the real reason why they, unlike all the other former members of Jadis's army, stayed loyal to the dwindling Witch Clan...
It was old magic. Get a small piece of someone -- a strand of hair, a tooth, a fingernail -- and you've got them under your control. And werewolves shedded like mad, and hags needed to cut their nails approximately once a week.
The Red Lady stroked her ruby, almost as if it was a beloved pet, and went back to admiring her pale reflection. A very beautiful and very evil grin had appeared on the reflection's gorgeous face, and its eyes twinkled with mirth and mischief.
"You are so cute when you're scheming," she lovingly told the reflection, being rewarded with the look of mutual adoration.
Yes... she thought gleefully, her thoughts returning to the green creature. Just one small part of him, and then I'll have him in my power. And I think I know just what to do to make things happen... I just need to be patient...
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As the sun rose over Cair Paravel, Leonardo made his last preparations.
A few days of staying in the castle with the king, learning as much as he could about Narnia and its people, had been very interesting as preparations go, but now it was time to go out and actually do something.
It was, to put it bluntly, time to take this show on the road and go hunt a Red Lady.
King Rilian had offered him the use of a horse, but Leo had respectfully declined -- he was used to getting around on foot, and in some strange way it seemed like that weird something he had sensed in the Narnian air from early on was having a profound effect on him. It hadn't been as noticeable to begin with, but as the days had passed, Leo had noticed that he was changing, however slightly.
He'd noticed it first when doing his morning katas on the third day of his stay in the castle. He discovered that the moves came to him even more easily than normal, and a fascinated couple of hours had been spent testing out his newfound abilities. He could hit harder, jump higher, even perform acrobatic stunts that would have put top Olympic-level professionals -- or even Michelangelo -- to shame back in his own world.
After gawking at the perfect somersault Leo had performed down the castle's longest staircase (and landing perfectly on his feet, no less!) the king had explained that it was fairly normal for people from other worlds to experience something like this when they spent some time in Narnia.
Leo tried to not let it show how good he felt about it. All his life he had struggled to be the best he could be, and how he was really getting a taste of how marvelous it felt to fulfill your potential. True, if it was all the doing of the Narnian air, it probably wouldn't last beyond his stay in Narnia... but for a short, glorious time, he could be better than he'd ever been before, with the feeling that he could singlehandedly have taken on half the Foot clan if need be.
Even though he was still desperately hoping for a way to return home to his own family, he had to admit that if he was going to be stuck on his own in a strange country anyway, Narnia was about as good a place as he could have wished for. The people were friendly, he didn't have to live in secrecy, and he had -- for now, at least -- a job where he could put his skills to good use.
"I'm most sorry to see you go, master Leonardo," said king Rilian as he and a few others gathered at the castle gates to see Leonardo off. "You have been an excellent and most pleasant guest to have."
"Even if you do get up at ridiculous hours to do those sword dances of yours," said one of the dwarfs, stifling a yawn. "Then again," he added, "it's my own fault for finding them so interesting, I suppose, or I wouldn't have bothered to get up at the same time to watch."
Leonardo bowed. "I can't thank you all enough for your hospitality," he said. "But I have sworn to find the Red Lady, and so I will."
"I wish you would at least agree to let me, or some of my knights, go along with you," said the king wistfully.
"Begging your pardon, your majesty, but it's all in the best interest of the country that you stay here," said Puddleglum. "What with the witches and the werewolves and Aslan knows what else out there, it's the duty of the king to stay where it's safe, or at least as safe as any place can be in this world. The land and the king are one, so they say. We shall all simply have to take it on good faith that the castle doesn't collapse or we don't suddenly run out of food and starve to death or that your majesty doesn't get sick and die. It's all as likely to happen as it is to not happen, I shouldn't wonder, but at least you're in a good position avoid being mauled by wild animals or having a tree fall on you -- or meeting that witch, whoever she may be."
"Puddleglum," the king laughed, "a mother hen would have accused you of being too overprotective."
"You are the only king we have, your majesty, and if anything were to happen to you --"
"Be that as it may," Leo interrupted, really not feeling like hearing yet another of the marsh-wiggle's prophecies of doom, "I'm sure your knights are valiant and skilled, your majesty, but I have a sneaking suspicion that they'll be needed here."
"I shouldn't wonder," Puddleglum muttered.
"You should, at the very least, take a guide along," the king insisted. "You have been pouring over maps and listened to tales of all the different places, for certain, but it's always better to have someone along who knows the land firsthand."
There was a small shifting around in the small crowd as Moorwin took a few steps forward. The centauress had originally just intended to stay at Cair Paravel for the night, after the big royal banquet, but somehow the stay had extended to several days, and since most -- particularly king Rilian himself -- seemed to enjoy her company, nobody had complained.
"Your majesty," she said. "I would be honored to be Leonardo's guide, if he would care to have me. I have, with my father, travelled far and wide in Narnia, and I know the land well enough. Besides, I was planning on returning to the woods before long anyway."
The king nodded -- and somehow Leo got the feeling that he'd been waiting for this. "That is a fine suggestion, lady Moorwin," he said seriously, and the centauress looked down and blushed, obviously pleased at being called 'lady.' "Won't you take her, master Leonardo? I'm sure she'll be of great help. Centaurs are not only excellent trackers, but they have great wisdom and knowledge of the land as well."
Leo suppressed a grin. It seemed like the king really didn't want to send him off alone... he'd probably arranged this entire thing with Moorwin from beforehand and told her to wait until the moment of departure to make her suggestion, so that Leo couldn't easily refuse her without appearing to be rude. Smart, king Rilian... very smart.
Still, when he thought about it, Moorwin wasn't the worst travelling companion he could have...
He bowed again. "How can I refuse such a request? I'd be glad to have you along, Moorwin. Only..." he hesitated a bit. "I hope you won't be terribly offended if I said I preferred to walk instead of ride."
Moorwin laughed, as did quite a few others. "Absolutely no offense taken."
"It's settled, then," said king Rilian with great satisfaction. "Durbin, please fetch the equipment and provisions for Lady Moorwin? I did have it prepared, just in case," he added as the dwarf ran off to do as he was asked.
"Just in case," Moorwin agreed, exchanging looks with the king and blushing a little again.
Leo decided not to comment.
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To be continued....
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Author's Notes: If this story was a comic series, this chapter would have had the words "BIG 'RED LADY' ISSUE" on the cover, since we found out so much about her here -- she's the younger sister of the Lady in the Green Kirtle (in this story most commonly referred to as simply The Lady in Green), the villainess of The Silver Chair.
(She is also getting more and more fun to write, which is the main reason why she ended up dominating this chapter. She's so completely in love with herself, and so childish that she's almost cute... but, as shown here, she shouldn't be underestimated.)
Some people believe, based on the information about the resurrection of witches in Prince Caspian, that the Lady in Green is actually the same person as the White Witch, called back to life. This theory is at least partly supported by the fact that in they're both played by the same actress in the BBC TV series. However, for some reason I can't quite believe it; they strike me as very different individuals. So for the purpose of this story, the White Witch was, eventually, the Head of the Narnian Witch Clan (more on this Clan later) and the Lady in Green was, as is theorized by the owls in The Silver Chair another witch much like the White one, but younger, not quite as powerful, and subordinate to her. Both she and the Red Lady were present among all the evil creatures in the Witch's army, and they were among the few survivors who fled after the army was defeated and the Witch was killed.
After that, they more or less lived in hiding, although the Lady in Green did make certain attempts at a comeback, the biggest and in the end most disastrous (for her) being chronicled in, yes, The Silver Chair.
Of course, since the White Witch and the Lady in Green were not the same, I needed to at least explain why nobody had brought the White Witch back if it was so possible... But I think I managed to give an at least semi-plausible reason here: Anyone who tried would effectively have ended up dead. In Prince Caspian, where Nikabrik the dwarf together with the unnamed hag and werewolf discuss bringing her back -- or rather, trying to trick Caspian into bringing her back -- that would effectively have meant the end of Caspian and company if they had agreed to it. Lucky that Caspian wasn't too keen on bringing back the biggest tyrant in Narnia anyway...
Finally, Ylgameth the hag is original to this story and is not the same hag as the one from Prince Caspian -- that hag is dead -- but according to this story, Ylgameth was the "mastermind" behind the plan. Look out for more appearances by her later in the fic, because even with a destroyed voice box she won't stop plotting and scheming.
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