Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: Even the bravest warrior sometimes needs help in chasing away the ghosts.

A/N: This story is part of my A Light in the Darkness universe. This story is set between the last chapter and epilogue of ALitD: Obscured. Enjoy!

Chasing Away the Ghosts

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"Protect the archers!"

The shout shook me. Another round of orders, this time less loud but still clear, reached me. "Protect the archers. Send the heavy lancers to drive off the Ettins threatening them. Move a battalion to surround the High King. Now."

Everything shook beneath me. Moving cautiously so as not to trigger an attack, I rolled onto my other side. There was some space between us but I was still close enough to be within striking range should he forget who was friend and who was foe.

Oreius shook his head, eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed lids. Sweat beaded his forehead and his nostrils flared as he clenched his fists. He opened his mouth and a low tormented whisper escaped, "Not the colt. Aslan, not the colt. Have to reach him." He gasped then muttered an order, "Lieutenant, with me. We must reach Wolfsbane."

"Oreius," I whispered.

He didn't hear me. Or, at least, he didn't wake up like I had vainly hoped he would. Instead, he raised one hand and touched the center of his chest where my necklace would have lain while he wore it on campaign. His brow furrowed slightly. "Not now. Don't think of her now. Focus on the colt. Save the colt. Hurry."

He moved more restlessly and I curled my legs up, trying to make myself as small as possible as he started kicking and thrashing again, fighting foes long vanquished. My poor Kentauri. Caught in the throes of battle shock, he would be difficult to reach, especially like this. I needed to be cautious. If he accidentally struck me during this nightmare, he would never forgive himself. His clenched fist was closest. Pressing as close to the mattress as I could, I dragged one of the pillows so it would cushion anything that came at my head and then I slid my hand towards him. "Oreius, wake up. There are no Ettins."

As soon as the tips of my nails brushed against his fist, he yanked away.

I froze, not certain if he was awake or if moving would trigger a very regrettable reaction. "Oreius?"

"Alambiel."

That was easier than I thought it would be. I studied what little I could see of his face. Tension traced lines in his cheek from how hard he was clenching his jaw. "Oreius, are you awake?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he flung the covers back and lunged out of bed. I started to sit up, but he angrily slashed his hand through the air. "Don't move!" Before I could speak, he added in a much softer tone, "I don't want to see you hurt."

I laid back down, still making myself small and non-threatening to avoid triggering his warrior instincts. Oreius didn't seem to notice that I hadn't answered, though. He paced the length of our bedchamber, tail lashing his flanks and fists clenching. He never looked directly at me. All of his attention seemed fixated on a distant sight or sound that I could not perceive. Battle shock still had him in its clinging grasp, then. I had a feeling his response to me hadn't really been a response to me, but to someone else in battle. Peter, probably. At least, the first part. The second part was most likely what Oreius would not consider saying during the heat of battle but he would definitely be thinking it.

At least twenty minutes passed as Oreius paced, still giving orders and reacting to the battles he had fought in the North. I waited for the battle shock to start wearing off, but it didn't seem to be getting better…and he was getting closer to where he kept his weapons.

Yup, it was time for an intervention.

Moving slowly and keeping one eye on the Kentauri, I carefully got out of bed and slowly walked down so I was standing across from Oreius when he turned around. He stood still. A myriad of emotions flickering through his dark eyes despite the impassive look he was fighting to keep in place as he stared at me. Then his expression hardened. "Why have you left your position?"

"Oreius." I took a step closer but stopped when he glared.

"Why did you abandon your post? The Ettins will exploit any weakness in our defenses. Return your post for the duration of your watch and then report to Captain Ardon- No, Ardon is still in the healers' tent…" He looked at me in bewilderment and I stepped forward.

Raising my arms in invitation, I smiled brightly. "Chuisle, you're home."

The confusion in his expression lingered half a breath longer and then it was replaced with hope and relief. "Alambiel?" He closed the distance between us, reaching one hand out to touch my cheek. I smiled wider in response but didn't try to touch him yet. It seemed to be enough. Oreius stepped into my embrace as his arms caught me with crushing strength.

I wrapped my arms around him and pressed a kiss against his shoulder. "Chuisle, you're home."

He lowered his head, brushing his lips against my temple and then my hair, as his hold tightened painfully but I didn't move. I just held him, speaking comforting words to him in Irish, saying anything I could think of to give him the lifeline he needed to pull free of the battle shock.

I don't know how much time passed before Oreius' virtual death grip eased and he took a deep breath. "Did I hurt you?"

"No. We're both all right."

He nodded against my hair, but made no effort to let go or to move away. I was perfectly happy to keep standing there as long as he needed me to…although the marble was a bit cold. I kissed the crook of his neck. "Which battle?"

"I don't know." He let go of me and stepped away, a look of weary torment appearing as he added, "I don't know. There were so many battles that it is difficult to separate the details for all but a few of the most distinctive ones. One, two, maybe five battles falling together as I failed in all of my tasks."

The despair I heard underneath those words tore at my heart. "Shh, don't say that. Don't even think it." I reached for him, resting my hand against his arm, as I continued, "None of that is true. That's just the nightmare talking. You brought Peter home. You brought the army home. You brought yourself home. You did not fail in your tasks."

"How many were left in the North killed or consumed by Giants?" Oreius pulled away, flicking his tail. He shook his head. "I failed them."

"You would never stand for Peter to talk like that," I pointed out. I followed him into the bath and watched as he poured water into the bowl on the washstand and splashed his face, neck and chest. "Oreius, it was war. You know better than anyone that none can predict who will come home and who will not during a war, especially on such a long campaign. You are not Aslan, my love, and you do not know all things. No matter how much you like to convince the kings and your soldiers otherwise."

I smiled when Oreius glanced at me, but my humor didn't reach him. He just shook his head and continued splashing, trying to wake himself up or, more likely, trying to wash away the remembered guilt. Oh my poor Kentauri.

I wished I knew for certain whether he needed me to distract him or to listen as he talked or simply to be there with him. Studying the circles under his eyes and how pale he looked, I had a terrible feeling that Oreius had been hiding his nightmares from me until tonight. How often in the last four days since his return, had he been without true sleep? Decision made, I held my hand out to him. "Come lie down with me, Husband."

For a long moment, I thought he wasn't going to accept the offer but then he sighed and finished drying off. He took my hand in a very light grasp and I knew he was attempting to make up for any bruises he felt he had left earlier. I tightened my grip on his hand and tugged. After coaxing him back into bed, I sat behind him and began gently massaging his neck. It was full of knots and I knew my touch helped.

By the time I had worked down his neck and started massaging his shoulders, the Kentauri finally broke his silence. "I failed you more often than you know."

"You came home and you brought my mother's necklace back. You didn't fail, Kentauri." I pressed a little harder on a particularly stubborn knot. "Although, I don't understand how you even manage to move with this many knots in your shoulders. Is your back worse?"

"I almost didn't."

I hesitated slightly then resumed the rhythm. I kept anything that he might misconstrue as a hint of disappointment or censure out of my voice as I asked, "Almost didn't what? Move?"

"No. Come back to you. There were times when I charged into battle, knowing I would likely die and be unable to keep my vow to you."

"Oreius." I stopped then reached out and touched his jaw, making him look at me. "Oreius, I know war. I know battle. You speak of a promise not to be foolish and suicidal. In war, we must at times take risks that might result in our failure to return home to our loved ones. I know this. You know this. Do not bear guilt over such decisions. I am quite certain that you took those risks only when there was no alternative and I know you still fought for me, to come home to me. I know, Oreius. I know this is true with all my heart. Do you deny it?"

He grasped my hand and then pressed a fervent kiss to my fingers. "No. I do not deny it."

"Then don't apologize for it." Leaning in, I feathered a kiss across his mouth. Peeking up at him through my lashes, I added, "Just remember that you are home with me. We are together again and not even Giants could keep us apart."

That won me a glimmer of a smile. He touched my hair, pulling a lock forward and kissing it, before he allowed it to slip through his fingers. I started to lean back only for him to cup the back of my head, holding me still. I arched an eyebrow at him and he smiled a little wider. "It is most difficult, Wife, to know when I am dreaming or not right now. Perhaps… Perhaps you might be amenable to proving that you are not in fact a dream I have conjured as comfort while I yet sleep in a cold and lonely tent in the frozen North?"

I giggled. "Oh you're good. I mean, it would be my delight to prove to you that I am real and you are really home safe in my arms."

He caught me in a kiss that left me breathless and completely ignorant of the lingering cold of a Yule night. As much as I enjoyed having my husband back from his campaign, I could only pray that the warmth of our love would help chase away the lingering ghosts that had followed my warrior home from his long campaign.

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For the soldiers who sacrifice so much to protect those who cannot fight for themselves. May you always come home to love.

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A/N: Please Read and Review!