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Disclaimer: If I owned the Chronicles of Narnia, then I probably wouldn't be writing a fanfiction for the Chronicles of Narnia.

Every breath was hitching in her throat. Her lungs felt like they were being ripped apart. But she didn't care, she just ran faster. Her brother was in trouble. And she had to reach him in time.
It started with the faun racing up to her while she was eating lunch at the army's camp. Simply the expression on his face told her that something was horribly wrong. She immediately stood up from her chair, and waited until the faun reached her. When he did, she asked,

"Are my brothers alright?"

The faun shook his head.

"Which one?"

Even as the words came out of her mouth, Lucy knew that they sounded heartless. Like she somehow expected one of her brothers to be fatally wounded, and she didn't care one bit.

"High King Peter, Your Majesty."

Lucy's heart clenched into a painful knot as the words fell off of the faun's lips. For a moment, she stood in stunned silence. Then she darted into action. If Peter was hurt, then she was going to do whatever it took to get to him. Lucy ran to the nearest horse, jumped on, and started galloping as fast as the poor creature would take her. While she was riding, she thought of the last time that she had felt this tightness in her heart. At Beruna. When Edmund had been stabbed by the White Witch. She had thought that not knowing whether the cordial would work or not had been hell. But she was wrong. Hoping that she could reach her brother with the cordial in time was far worse. If she didn't... No. She would not even consider that possibility. She smacked her horse's flank to make him go faster, as she raced over carnage left from the battle. Bloodied bodies, and dead creatures lay all around. It was too late for them. She would not be too late for her brother. She WOULD reach him in time.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was truly only minutes, Lucy could see the small figures dressed in white hurrying between small cots laid out on the ground. As soon as possible, she slid off her horse, and ran to the nearest healer. The young woman had auburn hair, tight features, and green eyes filled with worry for the centaur that she was treating. The poor creature had a gaping hole in his left flank, with teeth marks around the edges. It seemed as if a large animal had bitten into his side and ripped. Lucy tapped the healer on the shoulder. The healer turned around, annoyed.

"Armanius, not right now! I must have told you fifty-oh!"

The young woman broke off her sentence with a small gasp. Suddenly, she was tripping over herself trying to apologize.

"Your Majesty! I am so sorry! I had no idea that it was you! Please forgive me!"

The young Queen's lips curved into a grim smile.

"Nothing to forgive. Now, can you please tell me where my brother is? The High King?"

The healer nodded, gave me hasty directions, curtsied, and turned back to the centaur. Lucy ran towards a small circle of healers surrounding one of hundreds of white cots. As soon as the healers realized who it was, they made a small path for her to walk through. On the cot lay her older brother. He did not look at all Magnificent right now. Bruises framed his face an upper body. His left leg was secured in a hasty splint, and a white bandage, stained red, was wrapped around his forehead. But the most gruesome sight was the deep cut that went from left nipple to navel. Lucy nearly lost her lunch when she saw the injury. In some parts the cut had reached the bone. Peter's breath was coming in quick, gasping breaths. Lucy quickly knely by his side, uncapped her cordial, and poured a small droplet of the blood-red liquid into her brother's mouth. There was an anxious wait that seemed to drag on for an eternity. Then Peter's breathing suddenly became less strained. The large cut closed up, and all that was left was a jagged scar. Lucy breathed a sigh of relief, and stood up, smoothing her skirts. She thought that she should probably help the healer who was fixing up that centaur.

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