A/N: I apologise if I have offended any Peter fans, but I can safely say now, after having spent most of the night planning out the rest of this story that he will change his tune a little. However, as I can't write him this might not help any. Lol. At any rate, back to Edmund now. I have to say, I'm very proud that everyone likes little Bright-spark, and that you're all worried about him. We'll find out soon exactly what did happen, and hopefully what's going to happen to Edmund. Anyone have any ideas?

Enjoy!!

Traitor Arc: Loyalty

It was frightening the care they took with him, he had been bound, yes, but it was merely restricting, not painful. If it wasn't for the fact that he was surrounded on all sides he could have easily enough escaped. But as it stood, over the last two days he had not had the chance, they watched him like hawks. He was wanted healthy; he had been fed, watered, looked after to such a degree that was worrying to him. It was so different to the last time he had been held by those loyal to the witch.

And loyal to the Witch they were, calling her 'Queen', even thought she was dead.

He didn't yet know what their plans for him were. They did not speak to him, only watched, and not knowing, coupled with how well they treated him, was starting to make him afraid. He fought down this fear, refusing to let it show. It was an uneasy time for him. Plagued by the memories of the fight, and all those who had died.

Maxus and Clob were definitely alive, that he knew. Filionus could have died on the way back to Cair. He thought he could remember Philip escaping into the trees, but he couldn't be sure, and the others? It was a heavy guilt that hit him. They wouldn't have died if it wasn't for him. It would perhaps have been better had they died saving him from death, at least then it would have been for a reason. as it was, he remained uninjured, and well enough treated, while his people lay dead and injured.

The image of Bright-spark, most likely among the dead, or if not dead, injured enough to end up that way before he was found, ate at him the most. The wolf had been too young, far too young. He never should have agreed to let him come along.

His subconscious, which had begun to sound suspiciously like Aslan after the battle at Breuna, told him he couldn't have known what would happen, he couldn't blame himself for something so unexpected. But he could, and he would continue to do so. He should have considered the possibility. Never mind that nothing like it had ever happened before, he should have considered it.

At least he could expect Peter to come after him; he only hoped his brother did not rush into this recklessly. And that Peter did not let this incident cloud him against the rest of the Fell creatures. Peter was not a bad sort really, but he did have a tendency to let his worry for his siblings overshadow everything else, and because of what the Witch and her followers had done to him (Edmund), and the fright Susan and Lucy had been put through by Maugrim the wolf, he let that worry and distrust cloud him to seeing the good in any of these creatures.

Eventually he new that Peter would see the good to come from having them, but he doubted it would be any time soon.

It was nearing evening, it was the fourth day and he was now officially quite lost. They had taken him on a rather twisted trail; with barely any rests he was unable to find any familiar landmarks to help him. He could only hope that some of the wolves would join Peter, and that Peter would let them, otherwise he might never be found, and though they were treating him well now, he did not dare to hope he would be so well treated when they reached their destination.

"Rest."

It was one of the very few things that was said to him, that and "Eat" or "drink". He gratefully sank to the ground where he stood, knowing he would not be permitted to find a tree to lean against. They surrounded him at all times, and gave him no chance at escape. But they all remained some distance from him. Which was good thinking on their part as he would probably have stolen one of their weapons and used it to free himself. But it did not help his situation.

The Hag seemed to be the one in charge of this group, she had not spoken to him since before the fight; he had hoped to engage her in conversation so he could find out what was going on, but she remained rather elusive in that department, and Edmund was fast running out if idea's to draw her attention. He waited for the evening meal of hard bread and water. His wrists were bound in front of him for a change, so there was no rigmarole over untying him and retying him again.

He watched the camp around him move, watched how they interacted. There was some talk, but in a language he could not understand, so he was left none the wiser to their plans still. Everyone deferred to the Hag, everything that was done, he noted, was first approved by her. Was she the new leader? Was she trying to be the next White Witch? Was it even possible?

And just why did they want him?

He had ruled out that it had anything to do with his siblings, they would have been heading in the direction of Cair Paravel, or at least a messenger would have been sent with demands, but he had seen none.

He didn't like this, there was a feeling of dread that welled up in him the more he thought about it, and he tried to push it back, refusing to believe it was even a possibility. She was dead. Aslan had killed her. She was dead.

He ate his bread and drank the water, his mind preoccupied by the terrifying thought, his eyes constantly moving, cataloguing everything he could, weighing Peter's chances against them, hoping that it was just his own distraction that was making the odds come out in the wrong favour.

He did not sleep as much as doze, ready to wake in an instant should an opportunity present itself.

x

It was a commotion on the other side of camp that brought him sitting up in a flash, head turned to try and see all he could in the darkness. But there was only a surge of enemy bodies, everything else was blocked. It was not a long confrontation. He saw the Hag motion towards him, smiling in that chilling fashion at him as she did, and a group made their way towards him. He tensed, worried. What could it possibly be?

A body was thrown down beside him, and the fell creatures smiled cruelly before turning away. Edmund's wide eyes were ripped from staring at the body when the Hag stepped closer.

"Perhaps this will curb any ideas of escape." She said.

Edmund looked at her coldly. "You would use one of my own to ensure my cooperation?" he asked her.

"I would." She smiled again. "And you will cooperate, won't you?"

Edmund glanced back once again to the body, and the slight breathing he could see, and closed his eyes. He would. He nodded slightly, but his brain quickly kicked into gear, and took the opportunity as it stood. "What do you want me for anyway?"

The Hag shook her head in disappointment. "I had hoped you were much cleverer than this, little king. I will not tell you, for you must figure it out on your own."

Edmund grit his teeth, infuriating was the word he could use to describe this Hag, she was toying with him, and he could not think of a way to stop it. "It's the Witch isn't it." He stated.

She turned away from him, but he knew that the chilling smile was back. "Now you are beginning to see." She walked away.

Edmund looked after her. The Witch? Dear Aslan, surely he could not be right in thinking... No. She was dead, Aslan had killed her. She was not coming back.

"Edmund... Sire?"

Edmund looked down, and felt such an intense relief go through him that it took his breath away for an instant. "Spark!" but that relief soon gave way to quiet anger. "What did you think you were doing? I called for a retreat!"

Bright-Spark shifted just enough so that Edmund could see his whole face, he did not stand, and as such did not garner any attention from the surrounding guards. "And I did retreat, to the forest, with Philip."

"Philip's alive?" Edmund breathed.

Bright-spark nodded. "He's waiting there for the others to come back."

"And why are you not with him?" Edmund wanted to know, holding back the urge to pull the young wolf into a hug, lest he decide to strangle him for putting himself in danger.

"Well," Bright-spark lowered his voice to the barest of whispers; Edmund had to strain to hear it. "Philip and I decided that it would be no use everyone getting there only to lose you if they (he motioned with his nose to the group around them) decided to go over a river or something. Even with my mother and uncles helping them they would lose your scent. So I showed Philip a mark I could use that they could follow, and he stayed behind to tell them what it was. I followed because I'm smaller, and less easy to spot and catch."

Bright-spark gave him such a proud look, proud of his plan, that crumbled a little when Edmund just looked at him, and gestured minutely to the camp. The wolf lowered his head slightly, ears drooping just a touch, the equivalent of a blush. "Well... I had a reason." He said defensively.

Edmund just looked at him, knowing his question was very obvious.

When Bright-spark met his eyes next, it was with an adult look, and determined. "I lost you this morning, and it took me until now to find you again. What if something had happened? I can't be part of your guard if your dead you know!" he bared his teeth in displeasure at the thought. "So I decided to get captured, at least this way I can stay with you, and protect you, be able to leave the marks and not lose you again."

The worst part was, it made sense, and Edmund could not stay mad when eager blue grey eyes turned to him, an a furry white tipped tail brushed against his arm. Finally he just shook his head and smiled. "Spark, what am I going to do with you?" he asked in fond exasperation.

Bright-spark grinned at him, tail beginning to twitch a little. "Make me one of your guards?" he asked hopefully.

Edmund stifled a laugh behind one of his hands so as not to draw any unwanted attention from the guards. Bright-spark was irrepressible. "If we get out of this little adventure alive Spark, consider it done. Though you're really going to have to learn to follow orders."

"Philip said you'd say that, and he told me to tell you that--" Bright-spark paused for a moment, before doing a rather passable impression of Philip. "'We talking animals know better than to trust a human when it comes to instincts. King Edmund has no sense of self preservation, so it's up to us to look after him.'"

Edmund rolled his eyes. How like Philip. "Stubborn is the word I'd use, for both of you."

Bright-spark grinned again. "We're born with it Sire."

"Edmund." Edmund corrected.

Bright-spark shifted again, resting his head on Edmunds thigh, looking up at him. "They haven't hurt you?" he asked.

Edmund shook his head. "No. They're treating me rather too well really. You? Were you injured in the fight? Or just now?"

Bright-spark shook his head slightly. "Unless you count my stepping on a thorn earlier today looking for you, injured. It did hurt though. A lot. But it's ok now. They didn't try to actually hurt anyone so long as we didn't fight them or try to get near to you. That's when Philip and I went into the forest to hide." The wolf suddenly seemed to be struck by a thought, and raised his head to look at Edmund properly. "You're not angry with me are you?"

Edmund smiled a little, here was the little wolf he had taken a liking too. "No Spark, I'm not angry. I'm actually quite relieved to see you. I had thought you were dead." He reached out and awkwardly rubbed Bright-sparks ears, no easy task bound together as they were. "Now all we can do is wait."

Bright-spark rested his head once again on Edmunds leg and closed his eyes. Edmund continued to stroke his fur. He was the only non wolf allowed to take such liberties. The following days until Peter reached them were going to be hard, Edmund could feel it now.

So I didn't kill Bright-spark. I mean really, how many of you actually thought I would, after admitting to love him so much. He not quite as kiddish in this chapter, but he is 8 months old, and heading into adulthood. Poor Edmund though, just what has he gotten himself into this time? And where are they going? That Hag's a nasty piece of work.

Please review, I really really appreciate it.