Peter's fingers clawed at his throat, desperate for air. This was it. There would be no death in battle, leading his people. There would be no death as High King Peter. No, this was much worse. He was not dying for Narnia like he always thought he would have.

He was just drowning.

It was too much. His head pounded, and his lungs were on fire. He had been underwater too long. He just could not move. He barely had time before he crashed into the water to get a fresh breath. But he knew if he opened his mouth, it was over. The water would rush in. Everything hurt though; every inch of him weakening the longer he stayed underwater.

But he could not keep fighting it any longer. Despite his flailing, he was only sinking faster to the bottom.

At first, it was only one desperate gulp that forced his mouth opened and filled it with water. Once the first mouthful rushed in and with no new air, his mouth opened and water rushed in. He choked and tried to swim up to the surface with more vigor. He could not.

As his vision swirled and contorted, he lost the energy to keep fighting. His limbs felt like molasses, and he could barely muster the strength to keep his eyes open. Sinking to the bottom of the sea, he thought of his siblings. He hoped they knew he loved them with all of his heart.

That was the last thought he had before his eyes shut, and his world went black.

The worst part was not the three of them being attacked when they had ventured outside the castle. Nor was the worst part when they appeared to be losing that battle. The worst part was not even when one of the soldiers attacking them had knocked Peter right off the cliff. Caspian had thought it was at the time.

But the worst part had yet to come.

It was not when, after he cut down the last of their attackers, Edmund barely looked over the edge before he discarded his coat off his shoulders and dove straight off the cliff after Peter.

"Edmund!" Caspian yelled after him. Caspian scrambled to the edge of the cliff. There were water ripples where Edmund had entered the water. Neither of them had resurfaced. This Caspian, wrongly, thought was the worst it would be. The waiting.

Caspian nearly cried out in joy when he saw Edmund and Peter make it to the surface. Caspian could not make out much more than the fact the two of them had resurfaced. Very slowly, they appeared to be moving towards the coast.

Caspian gathered Edmund's discarded jacket and Rhindon, which had fallen out of Peter's hand before he was pushed, and he scrambled down the cliff side.

By the time he scaled down the cliff, Edmund and Peter were in shallow water. When Caspian reached the beach, he saw Edmund dragging Peter's limp form out of the water. Peter was not moving at all. Seeing Edmund dragging Peter made Caspian cringe and almost be sick.

But the truly worst part of it was when Edmund finally got Peter out of the water and laid him on the sand. As Caspian ran over, he saw the sight that would haunt him truly: Peter was not breathing.

Edmund was panting and shaking with effort. It had only taken him a second longer for him to notice Peter's absent breath.

"Peter!" Edmund cried with anguish clinging to his voice. This cannot be happening.

For a moment, Caspian froze in fear. He had only seen twice in his life a man stop breathing. What did the other people do to save him? Or did they not?

Caspian could not allow such thoughts to cloud him further. He needed to act, and act was exactly what he did. Peter and Edmund needed him. That was enough to shake him to action.

He raced to Peter's side, leaning his head near Peter's mouth. There was not a single breath from him.

Without much thought, he used all the lessons Doctor Cornelius had shown him, and his body was moving before he thought of it. He placed his hands on top of one another, noticing the shake in them. He felt for Peter's ribs and placed his clamped hands below them. Then he started pressing down and up on Peter's chest. He kept at an almost rhythmic pace.

Caspian scarcely glanced at Edmund to see him barely moving, staring at the two of them with frantic eyes. Certainly, that was all he could do. It was now in Caspian's hands to save Peter. Caspian did not allow himself to think further on it.

After about a minute of chest compressions, Caspian stopped and then leaned over to Peter's face. Just as he remembered, with a tilt of Peter's head and a pinch of his nose, Caspian blew two breathes into his mouth. Once he did that, he did not hesitate before resuming his compressions.

"Come on, Peter," Caspian pleaded as he pressed down on Peter's chest. "Come on." After some more compressions, Caspian tilted Peter's head back, pinched his nose, and blew air into his mouth.

He kept repeating this over and over again. He could not lose Peter, not after they had finally started getting along. Not after everything they had been through to save Narnia. It would be too much to bear to lose him now.

"Please, breathe," Edmund begged as he held onto Peter's hand. Tears glistened down Edmund's cheeks. Caspian kept pressing down on his chest and giving him breaths.

Just as it seemed to not be working at all, Peter started coughing, water spitting out of his mouth. Gently, they nudged him on his side as he coughed up the remaining water. His breathing was shallow; his eyes barely open.

"Peter!" Caspian's excitement overtook him. It had worked. He took a breath of relief until he saw how much Peter was shivering. Peter kept coughing, despite clearing his lungs. It seemed to be taking every bit of energy out of him.

"It's alright, Pete," Edmund reassured quietly as he gently tried to cradle Peter upright to help his breathing. "Just breathe."

Caspian was amazed to see the switch in Edmund. Only moments ago, he was a distressed brother to now the brother who was taking control and taking care of the other. Peter was leaning heavily into Edmund's chest. He was wheezing and shivering. His skin still held a bluish tint. He will freeze to death, Caspian realized before shrugging off his jacket.

Carefully, and with Edmund's shifts of Peter's almost limp form, he wrapped his jacket around Peter's shoulders, bringing the coat close around Peter's neck. A whimper escaped Peter's throat that made both Edmund and Caspian freeze.

Edmund just wrapped his arms tighter around Peter, whispering words of comfort that Caspian could not hear. The only reason he knew Peter had heard them at all was because he attempted a slurred and mumbled response to Edmund.

Caspian looked around the cliff side where they had been attacked from. Where those soldiers had come from, Caspian did not know nor did he want to stay and find out. His eyes slid to the clouds above, darkened and black.

"We need to find shelter," Caspian announced, looking warily at Peter. "That storm will be here before we know it. We will need to move him."

For a moment, the panic seized Edmund again. Caspian saw it return: the face of the scared younger brother who just nearly lost his brother. Caspian thought for certain the panic would stay, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

Edmund's eyes darted around, almost calculating as he agreed with a nod. His eyebrows furrowed with effort, and after a few seconds, he said, "If I remember correctly, there should be a cove nearby. There might be a grotto we can use."

Caspian could admit that both Peter and Edmund impressed him with many of their qualities. One of those qualities was that the two knew almost every inch of their country. Was that just something that would happen when he becomes King? He did not ponder the question longer.

"Be careful with him," Edmund warned as he gently nudged Peter to be more propped up. Peter groaned in discomfort but made no other sound other than his breathing. Caspian typed Rhindon and Edmund's coat around his waist.

With much care, Edmund wrapped his arms under Peter's arms and around his torso as Caspian took a hold of his legs. The two of them very delicately lifted him off the ground. To that, he groaned softly.

Only taking a few steps did Caspian realize that this was going to be a lot harder than he thought. They struggled most of the way until finally they rounded the side of the beach.

A grotto! Just as Edmund had thought! He nearly dropped Peter in his amazement. Caspian was openly impressed, only saying, "Gosh, Edmund, is there a part of Narnia you do not know?"

Edmund made not a sound until they were safely tucked into the small cave.

As gingerly as they could, they leaned Peter against the stone wall, to make it easiest for him to keep breathing. The distant thunder crashed, and Caspian heard the wind howling against the cove's eroded walls.

This was going to be a long night.

With the crashing thunder overhead and the roaring of the waves, Edmund was starting to become worried about the safety of their position as the storm rumbled against the cave. When he looked at Peter though, he knew it really did not matter. It would have to hold until they were found or until Peter was well enough to be moved.

Edmund had struggled to make a fire with some sticks and rocks. He eventually managed to do it, much to his and Caspian's relief. Their attention returned back to Peter. He still was trembling and had not regained consciousness since he began breathing again. Edmund went over to him, placing his hand on his face. It was cold. Way too cold.

"We need to get him warmer," Edmund announced, even though he was not sure what actually to do. He racked his mind for information from all of those years with Lady Wan showing him how to perform survival aid for when Peter and he were on expeditions or in battle. His brain would not give him the answers he sought. He hoped this was the right answer.

Gently, Edmund started taking off the articles of clothing that were most damp on Peter. Caspian had taken off shirt, and they replaced Peter's with his dry shirt. They covered Peter's lower half with Edmund's coat after they moved him a bit closer to the fire.

For a while, the two of them just sat in silence, the only sounds came from outside and their shaky breaths.

The silence was not broken until Edmund looked at Caspian, saying, "What you did for Peter—The way you saved him was amazing."

Caspian blushed before awkwardly scratching his head. He shook his head, replying, "I care about Peter. We are friends. Of course, I would save him." Caspian only paused briefly before admitting, "I owe a lot to him." They both looked at Peter. "He did so much for Narnia—you all did." Amusement almost entered Caspian's face when he added, "Besides, I am not the one who jumped off the cliff after him."

"But you saved him," Edmund said. His control over his emotions was coming to a testing point. He leaned closer to Peter. "I have never been so terrified." He chuckled with no humor in it. "Ruled by his side for fifteen years, seen him almost die plenty of times, but this was different." Edmund's voice trailed off before he softly added, "Another lifetime ago, I suppose."

Caspian was absolutely silent. He did not look like he was expecting more of an explanation, but Edmund wanted to give it.

"Back in England, we were relatively safe there. We did not have to constantly worry about each other's safeties, and when we returned there, Peter and I were not as we are here. We were not on the same page, and we fought too often." This time, Edmund's emotions got the best of him. Tears slipped out; his face scrunched with effort. "And when I saw him lying there, not breathing, I just kept thinking that I would lose him—my best friend—without ever getting the chance to tell him I was sorry for fighting with him or how much I love him."

Caspian was quiet for a while before he spoke. "When he wakes up, you will have that chance," Caspian reassured.

Edmund could not voice an agreement or a disagreement. His tears just flowed down his face. Caspian came closer to him; a delicacy around him that was not always there.

"Edmund, I cannot imagine what you are going through. I was petrified myself when I saw him too, but he is your brother, and seeing him like that, anyone would have reacted as you did."

Edmund just nodded quietly, unable to really put much use of neither his voice nor his brain to response anyway. Caspian seemed to understand. He wrapped his arm around Edmund's shoulders, pulling him close. Edmund leaned into his comforting gesture, able to breathe calmly, just for a few minutes before Caspian asked a fateful question.

"Do you think anyone knows where we are?" Caspian asked openly.

"I think Aslan does," Edmund replied not unkindly.

"Shouldn't he—I do not mean any disrespect, but shouldn't he be helping us then?" Caspian inquired.

Edmund chuckled sadly, remembering a time long before he had ever met Caspian. "When we ruled, the four of us often debated on this," he had to smile, remembering how Lucy insisted that Aslan always knew what happened, Susan thought he only did when he was Narnia, and Peter was not sure; he just knew Aslan helped when he needed it.

Edmund was certain Aslan always knew about what happened. Aslan had known every single thing that happened with the White Witch when Edmund was with her. Edmund never dared to ask him directly, but he saw it in the way Aslan looked at him when they were on top that hill all those years ago. Edmund still could remember it like it was yesterday.

"The answer we came to was that if Aslan was not here when we needed help, then it wasn't beyond us to solve our own problems," Edmund answered before realizing the last part of their conclusion. His eyes flickered to Peter, and with a weight and a fear building against his chest and shoulders, Edmund continued, "Or it's already too late for him to help."

A weighted silence filled the cave, and Caspian's face seemed to break as he looked over at Peter with worry. A hollowness struck Edmund's chest.

"Peter will be alright," Caspian tried to reassure him even with his emotions thick in his voice. "He is the strongest person I know." All Edmund could do was hope Peter's strength was enough this time.