The Traitor, The Witch, And The Lovers
by Katie Vieceli

The figure on the bed was white, so white as to be almost indistinguishable from the sheets covering her lower body. Long white hair, stick straight and silky, flowed over her shoulders, coming to rest just above her colorless nipples. Her sculpted face was reposed in sleep, her full red mouth obscene against the alabaster expanse of her face.

A young man was curled up next to her. He was thin and unnaturally flushed, with an ornate opaline collar encircling his neck. He hugged his knees to his chest as he slept, moaning listlessly through his troubled dreams.

As the first rays of weak winter sunlight infiltrated the room, the woman stirred. Her eyelids flickered open, revealing white eyes broken only by the stark black dot of a pupil. She sighed and swung over to straddle her male companion.

"Wake up, fool."

He sat up abruptly, his pupils dilating as he took in her reptilian smirk. One of her hands reached down to encircle his erection, pumping it languidly. He shook his head slightly.

"No...I don't...," he began, breaking off as her hand tightened and her strokes grew more forceful.

"I want to," she replied. Placing her other hand on his chest, she pushed him back onto the bed. A quick, deft maneuver and he was deep inside of her hot body. His hands came up their own accord to grasp her hips as she moved on top of him, undulating and writhing.

He clenched his eyes shut as he neared orgasm. Her passage was hot around him, hellishly hot, he thought. Appropriate. She almost burned him and he cried out at the infernal fire surrounding him.

She laughed cruelly, grinding down on him as she pinched her nipples sharply. Tears squeezed out of his closed eyes as he rolled over, pinning her underneath his body and began to thrust. Anything to relieve this heat, he thought desperately. He'd even play into her hands to get rid of it. He knew she liked it when he took control. It gave her hope that he might still embrace the cruel serpentine nature she had awakened in him oh so long ago with an innocent gift of hot chocolate and Turkish Delight.

Finally, finally he climaxed inside of her, and immediately rolled off, clutching his knees to his chest as he berated himself mentally for giving in, for not simply letting her gain her pleasure. He was weak, immoral, for once she began it he had never been able to simply lay there passive, as he knew he should.

"Poor guilty Edmund," she mocked from beside him, her regal voice cutting through his misery. "You might as well admit you enjoy it and embrace your true nature. You're a sinner, Edmund, a traitor. You belong to me. You always have."

"No...," he groaned miserably.

"Yes. Just give up and become what you can be, what you've always been destined to be. You could be a king, Edmund, a dark sorcerer. It's in you. If you just give up this moral ridiculousness."

When he didn't reply, she slapped him across the face and rose from the bed, her face disdainful. "Get dressed. We're going out to survey the kingdom today."

"Yes, my Queen," he said softly, still feeling the sting of her slap.

The white Queen clapped her hands together and the door at the far end of the room opened. A small, misshapen dwarf entered the room and quickly made his way to the Queen's side.

"Yes, your majesty?"

"Fetch me my travelling robes, and my wand. The human slave and I are going to tour Narnia today, and see if we can find the last of the rebels." The dwarf hastened to procure the items for her. She slipped into the robe that he handed up to her and then took the wand from his gnarled hand.

"The Daughter of Eve and the traitor Faun?"

The queen's eyes flashed at the mention of the Faun. "Yes, both of them. We'll teach them a lesson about sneaking into my castle and stealing my statues. Not to mention using magic to restore him." She ground her teeth as she thought of it. "These breaches would not happen if Fenris Ulf was still alive."

The dwarf noticed her rising anger and broke in soothingly. "But you punished his killer well."

"That is true," she replied thoughtfully, smiling once more as she envisioned the sculpture that graced her throne room, her prize statue. "And today we will recapture the other two and I will have complete control again."

"A great day, your majesty."

Edmund buried his face in the bedding. "Lucy," he whispered desperately, his words thankfully muffled from the Queen's hearing. However, she noticed his movement and her gaze flickered to him.

"Prepare the Son of Adam to accompany me," she snapped to the dwarf, "and then bring him to the throne room."

"Yes, your majesty."

With a flourish of her thick white fur robe, Jadis, the White Witch, Queen of Narnia, stalked from the room.


In the little cavern they called home, she'd let him do things. She'd let him pour her tea for her, let him play his pagan panpipes for her, let him coax off her shirt and tease her nipples with his crooked beard, let him rub his furred thighs against hers.

She'd slide her hands alng his horns as he moved inside of her, brush his tail with her feet as she came, listen to his bleats as he climaxed inside of her, stutter gone now, everything gone but what he was-a faun, a satyr, sex incarnate.

And oh, his cock, god, that purple, smooth stalk so cleverly hidden behind a fold of fur-for modesty's sake-how wonderful it felt inside of her, pushing up between her milk white thighs into the english rose of her cunt.

She lived for him, her impious bestial lover. He was her everything, sweet and rough, and to hell with what anyone back home would have thought, she wasn't there, she was here in the arms of her Tumnus. And when he whispered her name(sweet, sweet Lucy) she knew it was where she was supposed to be.


It was odd what being in Narnia for nine years did to a person. She could remember the first time she'd seen Mrs. Beaver, how stunned she'd been that there was this beaver her size, larger even. It had taken her breath away. Everything in Narnia had left her speechless.


After nine years, things began to seem mundane even...talking animals were nothing. And she had begun to see them as, well, people. With feelings. She could see Mrs. Beaver now as an individual, a widow.

The beaver was sadder then when she had first met her, harder without her husband to keep her cheerful. Tired with the demands of her children. Yet she always managed to be cheerful, and for this Lucy was grateful.

"Hello, dearie, how's the little one?" Mrs. Beaver waddled into the cavern, her whiskers twitching.

"Good," Lucy replied, rubbing her palm over her swollen belly. "He likes to kick."

Mrs. Beaver chuckled. "Those hooves must hurt...I remember when I was pregnant with my little ones. Where's his daddy?"

"He went out."

"Is that wise?" she whispered.

"It's never wise to go out, but we needed supplies. And the Witch seems to have scaled down her searches. Nine years is a long time." Time enough for a little girl to grow up and grow to love a faun she thought and smiled to herself.

"I don't know, I've heard the Queen-the Witch," she corrected herself, " has a grudge against you. The fact that she blocked the passage back to the land of Spare Oom speaks volumes, love."

"I know, believe me, I know. But Tumnus will be fine...I hope."


The White Witch sat serenely on her throne, one long, slender leg crossed over the other as she let her eyes caress the statue that held the place of honor in her throne room. The stone pair clutched at each other helplessly, their bodies entangled in a mess of marble limbs.

"They thought they were so pure," she said quietly, then cackled. She turned her gaze to the bottom of the statue, where the pair was joined. it was one of her finest achievements, the way she'd frozen them right at the point of climax, their faces contorted in lust and need.

"It wasn't their fault..." Edmund's voice carried softly through the spacious room.

"Not their fault?" the queen repeated mockingly. "I didn't tell them to fuck, fool."

"They were imprisoned together for seven years...they went mad..."

Jadis rose from her throne and crossed over to the statue, running her hand over the cold stone. "Look at her face, Edmund, the way her eyes are half-shut and her mouth is open. The daughter of Eve was begging him to fuck her harder when I enchanted them, begging like a little slut. And your brother was obliging her, ramming his cock into her like she was a bitch in heat."

One pale hand carressed the sculpted cock where it was poised in mid-stroke, feeling the veins that stood out in sharp relief. "Can't you feel it, slave, the raw passion that flows through the stone? Your moral, perfect sister and brother, groping and pawing each other like two animals on the floor of their cell. Sometimes I could hear their moans in my bedroom. I know you could hear them too."

She took her hand away from the marble cock and snaked it down the front of Edmund's loose leggings. "You're hard, fool. Does the thought of your sister and brother fucking turn you on?" She stroked him a few times, then pulled away abruptly, delivering a sharp blow to his stomach. "Go outside and get in my sled."


Edmund crouched in the sled, running his hands over his goose-bump laden arms. Ever since Jadis had slaughtered Aslan, the perpetual winter that gripped Narnia had intensified. Jadis loved it, of course. He was beginning to believe that the witch needed the icy chill to keep the fires of hell in her heart tolerable. Or something like that. He knew he needed it to keep him sane. Every time they...he couldn't say made love...fucked, he felt himself teetering over a precipice.

If he fell over it, he was no better than the Witch, worse even. He was a Son of Adam, a distinguished position to hold in Narnia, a sign of nobility. If he turned, if he embraced the consuming darkness that Jadis offered in her cold embrace, he was turning his back on everything that he had been taught, everything he held dear.

But it was so tempting. He knew the power that the witch held firsthand, and it was incredibly seductive. To rule by her side as her king, to share that power-or what she allowed him to have-was so very alluring. Every time he came, gasping under her, he could feel the edges of it, that amazing feeling of potence.

He should kill himself. Or better yet, he should displease the witch and have her kill him. He should rebel against her, refuse to follow her. He couldn't. The witch was right. The sight of the obscene staue had excited him. Seeing Peter, who had always ridiculed him, fucking his sister was so damn erotic it made his cock jump just to think of it. He had heard those illicit moans in the Witch's bedroom. He had lain awake, one guilty hand slipping down to stroke his erection as he pictured Susan with her legs open and her hair plastered to her sweaty face as she rode his brother to her climax.

"I've received word from my spies that the traitor faun is in the forest," Jadis said as she emerged from the castle with a sweep of her cloak. The dwarf followed at a respectful distance, holding his ever present whip. Edmund shuddered as he remembered its sting.

The Queen kicked him aside as she mounted the sled. A quick flick of the whip across the horses' backs and they were on their way.


Lucy looked up quickly as her door swung open with a loud slam. Her eyes widened as she saw Tumnus stumbling into the room.

"What's wrong?" she cried as she ran to his side, steadying him.

"The...Witch...the W-witch is coming."

"Oh, god, oh, no..." Lucy looked wildly around the cave. "We have to leave."

"No time," the faun said shortly. He reached out and ran his hand over her belly slowly. "There's no time. I'm sorry, Lucy. I was a very thoughtless faun."

Lucy tried to smile as tears rolled down her face. ", it's not your fault. We needed supplies..." She threw her arms around him tightly. "I love you, " she whispered and pressed her lips to his in a desperate kiss.

"I-Love you too, sweet. ny lovely daughter of Eve," he said fiercely, clutching her to him.

"How touching..." The pair looked up to see the Witch framed in the doorway, a smirk plastered across her alabaster face. "How domestic...and how absolutely disgusting. Don't you agree, Edmund?" She turned to the silent man standing behind her. "What should we do with this pair of unnatural lovers?"

At the sound of her brother's name, Lucy's gaze flew to his face. He was staring at her pregnant stomach with a look of betrayal.

"Edmund..." Lucy whispered, her voice pleading.

"Lucy, how could you?" he finally managed to choke out, his voice laced with anger and disgust.

"Edmund, please...I love him," she sobbed, crumpling when he continued to stare at her with hard eyes.

Jadis slipped her arms around Edmund's waist as she continued to whisper in his ear. "Do you remember how they called you traitor, Edmund, when you accepted candy from me? Now look at her, her belly swollen with his seed, her skin stretched by the fruit of her unholy love." She chuckled and her tongue flickered out, grazing his earlobe.

It felt like falling.

He growled and grabbed her shoulders, kissing her deeply, his tongue searching her mouth. "Welcome home, Edmund," she whispered into his mouth when he broke the kiss. "I knew you'd fall someday."

She moved away from him and turned her gaze to the pair huddled on the floor. "What should we do to them? They're so precious together. It would make a wonderful statue." She tapped her wand against her hand, an evil smile starting.

"No..." Lucy moaned, hiding her face in Tumnus' shoulder as she continued to sob. "Please, baby..."

"Oh, yes, the bastard," Jadis mused she turned her wand over in her hands. "what shall we do with him? Perhaps I should wait and keep him in my personal collection...raise him with all the love and caring I have?" When Lucy gasped in horror, she smiled sweetly. "What, don't you think I'd make a good mother?"

She raised the wand, but then stopped abruptly, turning to Edmund once again. "I'll let you have the honor." She held out the wand to him, her gaze never leaving his face.

He took the wand from her, his eyes blank, his face cold. He looked at the couple on the floor and he sneered. The wand raised once and the faun and the woman were changed instantly into stone, their cowering forms immortalised in smooth marble. He dropped the wand and fell to his knees, clutching his head.

"It's cold here..." he said slowly. "It's dark."

The White Witch laughed exultantly. "Oh, love, my poor little fool, it's always dark when your heart is black. Always cold when your soul is gone." She kneeled next to him and pulled him back against her, stroking his hair softly as she continued to grin with satisfaction. "You'll learn to love the cold as much I do, Edmund. You've fallen, slave, fallen so far it's breathtaking. But wait, just wait. What's at the bottom is so disgusting, so loathsome. You'll love it...I'll show you."

He shivered as she caressed him, closing his eyes against the sight of her bright red mouth swooping down to kiss him...consume him.


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