Okay so I hope you enjoy this! Tell me wat you think! Oh and remember James is Edmund's secret name :)

The traitor that has stolen your mind—Traitor by Rebecca Salmon

I wasn't sleeping as peacefully as I probably should have. I couldn't, due to the man that slept on the floor beside my bed. His screams and cries and shouts of pain woke me from my slumber several times during the night. I noticed the other guard was awake and staring at me. It made me rather self-conscious and I turned my eyes back to James. He tossed around, his hands going out and clawing at the ground beside him.

"Please don't! They haven't done anything wrong! Please!" His cries turned into broken sobs and his back arched up as a raw scream tore from his throat. "Joshua, no! Rebecca! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

I reached over; pushing my hand against his shoulder, trying to rouse him from his nightmares, but the other guard grabbed my arm. He was standing by my bed, a sad expression on his face.

"That won't serve much use, I'm afraid." He gestured to James. "Those aren't nightmares, they're night terrors."

I looked down at the writhing body, now violently twisting on the ground. "What's the difference?"

"You can't wake someone from a night terror." He sighed sadly, his eyes fixated on the young man's form. "They have to wake up on their own."

I jumped when James sat up, his eyes seeing something we couldn't, and a blood-curling scream erupted from his throat. I winced, pulling away from the edge of the bed as he slumped back down onto he ground. I glanced at the other bodyguard, looking towards James again. "How long do they last?"

"A few more minutes usually. Come on, let's get some air." He gestured towards the door, and I moved past the writhing body and followed him out.

"Sorry you had to wake to those." He mumbled, his hands in his pockets. "I'm Rackel, by the way."

"Err...Peter and it's fine." I shivered in the cold air as we took a seat on the steps of the cabin. "Not you're fault."

Rackel smiled, turning away to look at the stars above us. "I wouldn't mention this to Edmund though; he would be embarrassed that you heard him."

"Edmund? You mean James?" I felt a suspicious feeling rise in the back of my head, but I pushed it away.

"James, that's what I meant. Sorry, I get them mixed up a lot." He closed his eyes as the screams filled the air. "They look too much alike."

"Agreed." I whispered, drawing my knees to my chest. "Why does he have those? What are they about?"

Rackel glanced at me, his eyes softening. "It's not my story to tell."

Another scream pierced the air and then all fell silent. There was a faint rustle and I glanced over my shoulder to the door. I heard footsteps and shallow breathing, then the door opened and James emerged. He glanced at me, his eyes red from crying and his breathing ragged. He looked away, buttoning the last button on his tunic and jogging down the steps between Rackel and me.

Rackel just stared at his feet, while I called his name. James froze, his shoulders tense as he turned to face me. He tried smiling, but his bloodshot eyes showed no happiness. "Yes?"

"Are you alright?" I whispered as I approached him.

"I'm fine, Peter. I suggest you get some sleep before you have to go to work." He turned away, his black boots scuffing on the ground.

"Where are you going?" I called after him.

"For a ride." He called back, his stride picking up speed.

I jogged up to him, feeling as if I owed him something (for the room and all). He glanced at me from the side of his eyes, but said nothing. I didn't pressure him to say anything, seeing as how he was still very upset. When we reached the stables, I unbolted the door and led out his black horse. He watched me with tired eyes, his breathing now slow and even. I saddled his horse quietly, all the while watching him rest against the stall door.

He looked so old and tired. I eventually led his horse to him, holding the reins as he swung up. He looked down at me and a faint smile appeared on his lips. "Do you want to come with me, Peter?"

"I can't. I'm sorry."

"Why not?"

I sighed, allowing my hand to drop from the horse's lead. "I don't have a horse, nor am I allowed to leave."

He looked at me sadly. "I'll have you back before it's time. You can borrow Philip."

The noble horse, a soft chestnut color, raised his head and looked at me. He smiled, if a horse could smile that is, and nodded his head at me. "It would be a pleasure, sir!"

I smiled, reaching over and stroking the fine horse's mane. "No, no, I can't. I'm deeply sorry, err…Philip?"

The horse nodded and I smiled again, brushing a lock of hair from his face and patting him on the muzzle. James frowned, turning his mount towards me and coming to stand alongside me. He looked down at where I stood then gestured towards the sky. "Peter, look towards the sky, the stars are still visible and the sun still hidden."

"I have to be up before the sun is fully over the horizon."

"I'll have you back before then. If I don't, I'll suffer the beating."

"No, I can't." I dropped my hand from his mane, smiling at the horse once more before turning to leave.

"Peter, please. I wouldn't mind the company," he nervously glanced at the reins in his hands, "I don't want to be alone right now."

I looked back at him, seeing his bloodshot eyes and exhausted structure, and took pity on him. I nodded, releasing the bolt on Philip and allowing the horse to trot up to me. I saddled him with ease, and then swung up onto his back. "You lead."

James did so, pushing his horse into an easy canter and riding west. We weren't even half-way out of the lot when a slave master, half-dressed, came running up, flailing his arms madly.

"Subsisto! Subsisto! Quis es vos effectus!? Subsisto! Subsisto!"

Two more slave owners emerged from the cabins, yanking their shirts on. ""Thief! Thief!"

"Quam operor nos teneo vos es non rapio him?"

"Yeah! You'll nunquam addo him tergum!"

"Ego mos non relinquo meus rex rgis! Quam praesumo vos ingenero ut ego would!" James glared at them.

"Is mos fugio!"

"Sit a amicus of vestri!"

"Vos es a proditor!"

"Silentium! Capio is mancipium me ut flumen, vos would exsisto stultus contemno meus rex rgis quod Ego! Permissum nos unus! Sit subsequens meus to order! Permissum nos unus!" James held up his hands, his sword glinting in the moonlit and for a minute, he looked like a king.

They cursed, spitting on the ground, before turning and walking back into their cabins. We cantered out of the lot, our backs to the slavery camp behind us. I followed James up a trail, my eyes widening as I passed several trees that reached out to me. James bent his head back and laughed as the leaves danced around him, forming a human shape.

"King Edmund! King Edmund!" The small form cried, lifting her hands into the air. (I would guess she was a dryad).

"No, no. I am James, King Edmund's bodyguard. Edmund rests back at camp."

"No! We know our king; do not play such games with us, your Majesty! Come! Come have a feast with us!" Four more dryads joined in on the song. "Come, come, find a place to eat! A feast! A feast! A feast enough for a king!"

He turned to look at me, and then sighed. "I cannot join you, my dear friends. King Edmund sends his love though! Farewell, friends!"

I followed him as he cantered down into the waterbed, his eyes dark. He dismounted, allowing his horse to drink, before plopping down on the muddy bank. I led Philip to the water before sitting down next to him.

For a minute, I just stared. "J-J-James?"

"Yes?" He whispered almost tiredly.

"Why did they call you King Edmund?" I sighed, shaking my head before starting over. "No, why'd the call you King Edmund when they should know what their king looks like?"

"King Edmund and I share similar traits, we are easy to confuse." He picked up a flat stone and threw it against the water's surface. It sunk without skipping. "Especially when they haven't seen their king in several years."

"Anyone in their right mind could see the differences between you and the king." I whispered, tossing my own flat stone into the water. It skipped three times before sinking.

"Hmm, that's what I thought." James mumbled, skipping another stone and watching miserably as it sunk without a skip.

"You're taller by at least half a foot." I smirked, skipping another stone. Three times, sunk. "He's smaller in frame."

"His eyes are brighter than mine, almost golden-brown." James searched for another stone.

"Less muscular." I froze when I realized what I had said, and bent my head to hide my blush.

"He's fought fewer battles than me; I would hope he's less muscular than me." He smirked good-naturedly.

"His voice is..err…less…not quite…ehh…" I sighed, giving up and tossing another stone. Two times, sunk.

"Less masculine? Almost feminine." He smiled. "I know, trust me, I know. "

I laughed, "I feel like I am insulting my king!"

"He's worth insulting." The words were barely audible, but I caught them nevertheless.

"Excuse me? You say such a thing about our king?"

"I'm sorry." He didn't sound sorry at all.

"You don't care for our king, do you?"

"No, not at all." He sighed, throwing the remaining of his stones into the water and laying back on his back.

I took a minute, skipping my final stones, before laying back beside him, my head turning to face him. I watched as he blinked at me, his eyes closing before opening again to look at me. I just sighed, feeling the cool night air lay a blanket of ice over us, but somehow I couldn't bring myself to remove the blanket.

"Why not? He is a good man."

"He is not worthy." James turned away, yawning. "Not worthy of kingship."

I didn't say anything, just closed my eyes, feeling the mud soak in through the back of my shirt. Neither of us moved and I think James had fallen asleep. I allowed my own self to drift off, my body exhausted from years of hard labor.

When I opened my eyes again, the morning sun beat down on us through the cool of the trees, the morning dew wet against our skin. James slept peacefully, his chest rising and falling with each breath. I didn't move, my body molded to the mud though I didn't care much. I was comfortable and had no intentions of moving anytime soon.

I never really had time to think and when I did, it was thoughts of anger and revenge upon the slave masters. I didn't bother with finding peace or hope for the future, that wouldn't satisfy me. At night, I fell asleep to the sound of crying, groaning, and occasionally the sound of skin sliding against skin as two lovers made love to each other in the cool of the night. In the morning, I awoke to the stench of the dead, blood, and vomit. Lovers laid naked, exposed to the entire room, and yet none of us cared. There was no true act of love here; men raped woman and other men daily.

I had lost my friend to a slave master, my only friend here. The slave master, drunk with wine, had raped my friend and killed him in the morning. I had pulled away from any form of friendship after that, never finding the need to open myself up to someone.

Then James came. I found myself desiring his friendship, his smile and his warm aura. I was scared, even as I lied here away from the slave camp, I was scared. I was scared that I would trust him and love him like a dear friend and then he would leave.

"What are you thinking about?"

I blinked past the haze from staring too long, noticing James was staring at me. A soft smile broke through his features and I was reminded of my friend.

"Nothing." I rolled onto my back, the mud still caked to my cheek.

James sighed, sitting up and shaking his mud-matted hair. "Alright."

"It's late, I should go back."

"You don't have to quite yet. I'll get you there before noon." He stood to his feet, extending his hand towards me.

I declined it, standing to my feet and watching as he unbuttoned his shirt. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Let me get this straight, you can go around shirtless, but I can't?" He smirked, slipping the shirt off his shoulders and wading into the water. "I'm bathing."

I smirked, until I noticed the scars upon his back, several looking as if they had been from a whip. I opened my mouth to ask about them until I decided to leave it alone, wading in after him. "You don't have the muscles I have, so there's really no reason to remove your shirt. Nothing to show off."

"Ha ha, funny." He splashed me, then disappeared beneath the surface.

I backed up towards the shallow part of the bank until I felt a hand grip my ankle and pull me under. I twisted in the grip, grabbing the arm that held my ankle and pulling it off. The arm moved up towards the surface and I yanked it back down, holding my breath as long as I could. The body allowed me to pull it under, his feet touching the rocky bottom at the same time as mine.

Then he pushed off the bottom as powerfully as he could, pulling us both up and breaking the surface. I gasped for air, flicking the fringe out of my face and laughing when he coughed.

"You git!" He smirked, treading water and pushing me underwater again.

I grabbed his waist on my way down, pulling him underwater with me. I felt his hands grip my biceps and he wrestled me, his strength matching mine easily. I felt my hands slip on his bicep and he yanked away, swimming as fast he could in the opposite direction. I broke the surface for air, before diving underwater again, opening my eyes. The water stung somewhat, but I paid no heed. His leg kicked near me (in his desperation to get away) and I grabbed it, yanking it back and watching as he was dragged back towards me. I moved my hands up to his lower thigh, yanking him even closer until I had a good grip on his biceps. I pulled him, back to chest, against me and held him there.

He struggled and fought, his back brushing against my chest, but I didn't release him. Then he stopped fighting and banged his leg back on mine. I pulled him up to the surface, releasing him.

"You win. I forfeit!" He cried as soon as I broke surface. "Aslan, you're a fighter."

"You held your breath for two minutes." I was rather shocked by this. "Impressive."

He smirked, climbing up towards the bank and collapsing in the mud. "Wore me out."

I laughed, pulling myself up next to him and collapsing on my stomach, my head turned towards him. "I'm not much better off."

"They could really use you in the army, you know." He smirked, his breath coming out in ragged, shallow breaths. "You look for openings and use strength to conquer their weaknesses…"

He started to go on, but I interrupted him with a laugh. He shot me a confused look and I just smiled. "You got all of this out of swimming?"

He nodded and I laughed again, reaching over and yanking on a piece of his hair. "You're strange."

He laughed, wincing only briefly when I yanked his hair. "I suppose, but seriously. After we free you, you should seriously consider joining the Narnian army. We could really use soldiers like you."

I frowned suddenly, pushing myself up on my elbows and resting my head in my hands. I took a deep breath then looked at James again. "I know we've only known each other for two days now, but…can I ask something of you, if it's not too tedious?"

He rolled over onto his back, looking at me with honest concern. "What is it?"

"If you're given the chance…or if King Edmund is given the chance to free one slave, you know, just in case it's part of an agreement or something…could you free my sister?" I looked down at my shaking hands, sighing deeply and holding my breath.

James inhaled deeply, pushing a hand through his hair. "Yes, I can promise you that."

"Thank you." I crossed my arms on the ground and laid my head against them to hide the tears. "Thank you so much, James."

He said nothing, just reached over and laid a hand against my shoulder. "Do you trust me now, Peter?"

I started to cry openly, rolling over onto my side to show him the tears flowing down my cheeks. "Yes, yes, yes. I trust you. I trust you."

He smiled gently. "Then why are you crying?"

"I trust you. I can trust someone…and it doesn't feel wrong or misplaced. I trust you." I whispered, my eyes boring into his.

"Trust Aslan and what he will do through me, but don't trust me." His eyes were suddenly troubled and he sat up, his mouth going slack.

"What?" I looked up at him, confused and slightly fearful.

"Never mind." He turned to offer me that moonlit smile, his eyes dark. "We should go back now."

I nodded, standing to my feet and walking to where the horses stood, my hand clasping over the reins. I swung up onto the horse's back, waiting for James to do the same after he grabbed his shirt and buttoned it up. We rode off towards the camp and I felt the happiness leave slowly. I had been happy back there, truly happy. Now, I was walking back to the very land I dread.

I could run, I knew I could, but Lucy was back there. I wouldn't leave Lucy alone. We cantered back, slaves upturning their eyes toward us and gasping. Some pointed and others whispered amongst themselves. I looked down at my silk trousers and swallowed.

"James?"

He looked over his shoulder towards me. "Yes?"

"I should probably change back."

"Ah, yes." He cantered towards the stable, dropping our horses off and leading me back to his cabin.

He waited outside while I changed and then walked with me to a slave owner. The owner narrowed his eyes, frowning as I stuck to James' side. He pulled the whip to his side, unraveling it so it touched the ground.

"Give him no beating, I requested his presence."

The owner nodded, and then pushed me rather roughly out towards the field and I stumbled to my spot, dropping to my knees and working the soil. I looked up to James, seeing his sad expression.

"James!"

He tore his eyes away from me and looked to the horizon. Rackel smirked, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him up the sloped land. "What do you think about a spar? Just a quick one?"

James smirked, mumbling something back that I couldn't hear. When they were at the northern end of the field, they stepped away from each other and unsheathed their swords. I saw several slaves momentarily pause in their work, before quickly returning to it, still sneaking occasional glances to where James and Rackel stood.

I worked with my eyes trained on them, watching as James pulled out a second sword. He circled Rackel, his eyes fixated on his opponent, then he attacked, a wide swing to the center with his left sword. Rackel blocked, bouncing back before sprinting forward and bringing his sword crashing down. James crossed his swords in front of his face, pushing his opponent backwards and bringing both swords down on Rackel's one. Rackel faltered, stumbling backwards as he blocked every blow. James never tired, his swords showing no mercy. Rackel suddenly went for an opening and it all happened too quickly. James sheathed his left sword, moving aside so the sword went between his arm and his body, clamping his arm against his side so the sword was trapped, then used his free hand to twist Rackel's wrist, causing him to drop his sword. James loosened his hold on the sword, grabbing the handel and whipping it around so it faced Rackel. He held both swords criss-crossed at his opponent's neck.

The air was quiet around them, all of us unsure of how a spar went when one was defeated. Then both men laughed, James offering the sword back to Rackel. Rackel smirked, mumbling something, and James laughed, patting him on the back.

The whip caught me by surprise and I flinched away, my hand automatically going to defend me. It came down again, cutting into my flesh, and I bit my lip in pain. I realized now that I hadn't been working, just watching, and they had spotted me slacking off. Another time and I was crying, pulling away from them as my back bled.

"Don't pull away, you dumb slave!" Another time, then another.

They pulled away after the sixth time and shoved my face to the ground. I laid there a second, before I sat back on my heels, my hands working the soil again as tears rolled down my cheeks. I looked up to see James frozen in place at the end of the field, his dark eyes staring at me, jaw slack. Then there was anger, pure rage, in his eyes.

A whip came down on me once again, I was slacking again. I kept my eyes on James the entire time, my body writhing in pain as the whip kept coming down. Then I saw the rage turn into blind fury as James made his way towards where I sat.

"Release him!"

The slave master paused, eyebrow raising as James came to stand beside him. "What gives you the authority! You are not king!"

James froze again, his eyes looking down at me, then up to the slave master again. "I am the king's servant."

"Just as low in status as him, I believe."

"No, no he's not! He is above you! Bow to him! Bow to him!" A slave a few feet behind the master cried, his eyes on the situation before him.

"Shut up!" The master turned, his whip uncoiling and slashing the boy in the face.

The boy cried out, blood running from the cut on his forehead. He held a hand to it to keep the blood from running into his eyes. The cut was deep, and the boy sobbed brokenly.

There was the sound of a sword sliding against its cover. We all looked up to see James' sword extended towards the slave master, an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Put your sword down." The master hissed. "I wouldn't want the precious king's servant getting hurt."

James, still a teenager, growled with anger, his hand curling into a fist. To say we were shocked was an understatement, when James punched the man square in the jaw. He pulled back, his hand uncurling. The slave master looked down at the blood in his hands, my own eyes widening.

"You filthy vermin!" He spit the blood on the ground, his lip split open. The whip pulled back, hissing in the air, before cracking down on James with a snap.

James yelped, pulling back. His hand going to his shoulder, where a fresh cut was laid against his collarbone. Another hiss of air and James stumbled back, his cheek split open.

"Stop him! Stop him!" Slave masters from around the field ran towards us, their arms flailing. "Stop this! Stop this!"

The master didn't listen, but instead brought his whip down again and again on James. I stood to my feet, unsure of what I could do. James was on the ground again, slashes marking his body. Blood poured out freely through the cuts, his eyes screwed closed in pain. The master raised his hand to deliver yet another blow, but two other masters grabbed his arms, yanking him back.

"You fool! He is the king's servant! How dare you lay a hand on him!"

"I'm sorry, sir." An owner helped him to his feet, holding him up.

"He punched me, the vermin! Behead him! Behead him! Off with his head!" The enraged owner struggled against the hold.

A horn was blown, our signal for dinner usually. Except it wasn't dinner time. The slaves crowded toward the room, their eyes trained on the scene playing out before them. I didn't follow the slaves, but instead stood rooted to my spot.

"Control yourself!" They hissed at the master.

"You! Half-breed! Take him to his cabin! Bandage him!" A gruff owner called to me, gesturing to James.

"Of course! Send his lover!" The angered master screamed.

"Stop speaking non-sense!"

"Oi! Quis iens in hic!"

I watched as the other slave masters emerged from the cabins (the ones that didn't speak English usually worked later in the night).

The yelling faded out as I came to stand by James, my arm going around his waist and helping him towards his cabin. I heard the commotion behind us, but paid no heed to it. James limped beside me, his blood soaking through his shirt and smearing against my side. When I reached his cabin, I helped him lay on his bed.

"Stay here. I'm going to get some bandages."

I pulled away from his bedside, my hand clenching at my side. They had harmed James, struck an innocent man. I stopped at the doorway, turning to look back at him.

Aslan, he's my friend, please don't let harm come to him.


A/N: So I put a litle fluff in with the swimming scene...If you're unsure about anything, or have questions on anything please message me. I hope you enjoy :)