Title: Unknown Soldier
Summary: A soldier lies dying on the field of battle, forgotten by all save his King. Golden Age fic.

Narnia was at peace. Summer came every year, fields prospered richly and fed the many, and Narnians lived without fear. Which left just one vital question: why were we still fighting?

Because peace was a thing that never truly existed. We could fool ourselves into a state of complacency and hide behind a veil of unconcern and relaxation, but there were enemies to be watched. Such was the world that evil existed and wickedness bred, and unfortunately, there were those who acted upon it. Thus, no peace.

We waited in silence, as the sun inched its way across the sky. I stood in the ranks of my King's forces, an insignificant soldier compared to the whole. My King stood at the head of his troops, his pale, young face set in grim lines. Lines that should not have been on such youthful features.

All around us, the forest was silent, as it waited with us.

The battle began with a whisper, as the trees around us rustled in a wind that was not there. They spoke to us in their silvery language, warning us that the enemy approached.

They came shrieking like a horde of demons, but we were ready for them. Their wild charge met our cold steel as we moved forward to meet them. Almost instantly, the sounds of battle and death surrounded me. The clash of swords and shrieks of anger, defiance, and pain filled the air, a symphony of chaos that tried to drown us all out in its misery. The smell of blood soon permeated the air; it was sickening, but all my focus was on killing my enemies, and I forgot to notice.

My vision narrowed, until all I could see were those I fought and killed. Each life I severed was like a blow to the face, until at last the feeling numbed. My mind was shielding me from the horrors of necessary murder. I no longer saw the blood spill or the faces contort in pain. All I could see were obstacles to be removed.

Because if I saw what I was really doing, it might drive me insane. It was the fate of all soldiers who possessed honor.

Time was nothing but a dream during battle. Everything moved at a pace that was both terrifyingly fast and agonizingly slow. Killing was a blur, yet every drop of blood was visible as it fell in slow motion.

It went on for seconds. Years.

Soon, or maybe centuries later, I found myself fighting near my King. He was skilled with a blade, cutting down as many enemies as I had, or more. He gave us courage. He was one of the Four, one of the beacons of hope for Narnia. He fought without wavering, and that sight gave our soldiers the strength and courage they needed to continue fighting.

So it was with horror that I watched him fall.

Even the most expert warriors could fall prey to a trick, and three enemies had converged on my King at once, as he fought a fourth. One had tripped him, and his sword had slipped out of his hand as he fell. Another of the enemies raised his own sword for the death blow, but I was there now, killing the one who had dared think to murder my King. I bought my King time, and in doing so, lost my own.

A sword pierced my body, then another, then something that may have been a spear or a sword or daggers or teeth. I was too full of pain to know. One sword had hit just below my heart, the others striking different vital body parts, I knew. I could feel my life's blood pouring out from the wounds past repair.

I collapsed onto the ground.

Through a haze of agony, I saw my King on his feet, grabbing his sword. With one powerful stroke, he felled all enemies around him, my murderers included, as he yelled a hoarse battle cry. More enemies came to attack, but they were dead within seconds. A kind of frenzy of anger had entered my King, and soon I couldn't see him anymore, as he moved forward to kill all the enemies that stood in his way.

For a moment, I couldn't even feel myself dying. I was too full of relief at knowing that my King was unharmed. As long as he was alive, it didn't matter what happened to me. As long as he survived to carry on the hope for our soldiers, my death would have meaning.

I had to keep telling myself that as the pain increased.

It wasn't long before sounds became muted and dim, and I felt sure that these were my last few seconds. But still I lived, in pain unmatched by anything I had felt before, and I realized the battle was over. That was why all was silent. And we must have won, because if our enemies had taken the field, I would hear them celebrating. They weren't the kind to mourn death, not even the death of their own.

But I couldn't tell, because my sight was slowly beginning to grow dark.

An eternity passed, and still I lived. Why was dying so painful? I had heard that the pain faded as death took a firmer hold, but this was not true. Spasms of agony shook my body, but my mind refused to pass into oblivion. Please, Aslan, I prayed. Let it end quickly.

But the end came ever so slowly.

My mind seemed to be floating and dully I registered some sort of bitterness within me. I would be just another dead on the field, I realized. My death would be no different, because there was no one here to witness my passing. I would die alone. Was that what war was truly about? Dying in pain, with no one to comfort and ease the loneliness?

Then I heard footsteps, and a face entered my vision.

I was almost beyond speaking now. Coldness had touched my near-empty veins, yet a gladness had spread through me as I focused on the face. "My… King," I choked, and blood spattered out of my mouth.

"Shhh," he soothed, but his voice was shaking. "A healer is coming. You'll be alright."

"No," I whispered. He was trying to comfort me, and I was grateful for that. "No time. I… go."

I was slipping away, but I could still see his face. There were tears in his eyes, and that finally gave me the peace that death was supposed to grant. My King, to whom I'd sworn undying loyalty, cared if I died.

Perhaps death might mean something after all.

The last thing I saw was a tear, suspended in my mind's eye as it fell, catching the light of the sun and creating a brightness that enveloped everything, warming away the cold.