#7 Brody

A/N: Again, sorry if it's a bit short. You'd think the teachers would be kind to us during the holidays. But noooo…so I've been dealing with an onslaught of essays. Thanks for the reviews, as always.

The door to Rose's room creaked open, and she turned on her heel with a smile, expecting Lucy. The two of them had planned to go down to dinner together, along with Susan…but it wasn't Lucy who stood in the doorway. It was the young man from her nightmares.

Brody.

He smiled smugly over at her as he advanced. His walk was a cocky swagger, and Rose despised his arrogance. So he might be a sorcerer, but that didn't mean he'd already won. She hated how he acted like she was prey and he was the predator.

"Rose Finley. You've only grown lovelier over the years – but you don't know who I am, do you?"

She tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed.

"I know exactly who you are. You're Brody. You wanted to become the Protector, but Peter wouldn't let you…in which case, I'm also guessing that you're here to kill me."

There was a tense silence as the two eyed each other off. Rose was afraid of this young man – if her nightmares were to become reality, then he was capable of a lot…but in her nightmares, he hadn't killed her. He had made her watch as he'd murdered the Pevensies one by one.

Lucy chose that moment to hurry in through the doorway. She saw Brody and her eyes widened with horror. She stumbled back towards the door, but Brody was too fast. He whirled around and grabbed Lucy by the wrist, pulling her forwards.

"Come on, Rose. You're the Protector, aren't you? So protect her."

If only it had been one of the others. Edmund and Peter were warriors; Susan was an archer. But little Lucy – she couldn't defend herself against a threat this great. Her dagger would be nothing compared to Brody's power. Lucy struggled in the sorcerer's grasp, but he only twisted her wrist behind her back so that she yelped in pain.

"Let her go, Brody!" exclaimed Rose. Although Lucy was the one in pain, it was hurting her emotionally to see her friend caught up in this situation. This was between she and Brody, and Lucy should never have been involved.

Lucy's free hand groped for her dagger, and she attempted to stab the sorcerer with her puny weapon. Brody just laughed at her efforts, grabbing the dagger from her grasp and releasing her wrist before lunging at her. Lucy darted to the side, throwing herself away from Brody, but the dagger still managed to scrape across her side. Lucy cried out in pain as she crumpled to the floor.

Brody turned his attention back on Rose, tossing Lucy's dagger aside. Out of the corner of her eye, Rose watched in concern as Lucy reached for her dagger with blood-spattered fingers. She hoped that the young Queen would have more sense than to attack Brody with the weapon.

The sorcerer smirked as he advanced towards Rose, but she snatched up her sword from her bedside table – she always kept it there, and right now she was immensely grateful for that – and pointed it directly at him.

"Get back," she snarled, but despite the fact she possessed a weapon, she still felt like a cornered animal. Lucy was nowhere in sight; Rose could only pray that her friend had gone to warn others about Brody – hopefully Peter and Edmund. They'd know what to do.

Brody chuckled darkly. "You think I'm afraid of your little sword, Rose? You actually think you pose a threat to me?"

"Then why do you want me dead?" snapped Rose, gripping the hilt of her sword so tight that her knuckles were starting to turn white, "Unless it's out of pure jealousy that I'm the Protector and you're not."

Brody continued to move towards her, apparently undeterred by Rose's sword. She was beginning to feel apprehensive now. Tournaments were one thing – but this was no tournament. This was a threat more deadly than anything she'd ever encountered and she had no idea how to defeat it. How was she supposed to protect the Kings and Queens, if she couldn't even protect herself?

Rose could see the magic forming on his fingertips, and he appeared completely over-confident as he strode slowly towards her, savouring his imminent victory.

"Whoever said I wanted you dead, my dear?"

Then he unleashed the magic, and Rose dropped her sword and screamed piercingly.

Edmund took the stairs two at a time. He felt his grip slipping on the hilt of his sword – his hands were sweating he was growing so worried. He didn't have time to wait for Peter…besides, someone had to tend to Lucy. Edmund felt the fear searing his nerves, threatening to overwhelm him – fear for Rose.

When he reached the corridor, he stopped and slowed his steps. He fumbled almost blindly along the wall in the half-darkness. He could hear a young man's voice, taunting and cruel. He knew this must be Brody.

"What a pathetic waste," he sneered, "You're supposed to be a Protector? I don't what Peter was thinking."

Edmund moved so that he stood outside the doorway of Rose's room, and what he saw made white-hot hatred roar through him. A blond young man stood over Rose with his hands on his hips. Rose lay on the ground, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to breathe. She was shaking violently.

"Get away from her!"

Edmund strode across the room with his sword pointed directly at Brody. The sorcerer turned, surprised – but his expression turned to one of malicious delight when he saw Edmund standing there. Behind him, Rose clambered slowly to her feet.

"King Edmund," Brody bowed mockingly, "I haven't met you before. It's a pleasure."

Edmund didn't know what to say. His eyes narrowed and he kept his weapon trained on Brody. The young man had been imprisoned before by non-magical soldiers; so what was stopping Edmund from accomplishing the same feat?

Brody's grin was malevolent as he lifted his chin, his eyes glittering.

"Oh, there is darkness in you, isn't there?" He mused, "You try so hard to conceal it, to fight it…but there's no denying the truth about yourself."

Edmund squared his jaw.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Brody's smile widened and he raised his eyebrows. "I think you do."

Rose was glancing from Brody to Edmund, worry deep within her eyes. Edmund tensed, his entire frame stiffening at Brody's comment. He hated this sorcerer more than anyone right now, more than he'd even hated the White Witch. Maybe it was because it felt like Brody could see right through him.

"I'm not like you," snarled Edmund, unable to keep a lid on his temper.

Brody simply shrugged. "Not yet."

He turned around to deal with Rose, but the Protector simply slammed her fist into his face. He staggered backwards, surprised, his eyes widening with shock as he noticed the droplets of blood that had spattered onto his hand.

"You can't fight worth a damn," Rose said, her voice cold and hard, "Your magic can't protect you from everything."

Angry now, the sorcerer stepped forward with gritted teeth. Rose stood her ground, lifting her chin and smiling – daring him to try. It quickly became clear that what Rose had said about him not being able to fight was wrong when he backhanded her across the face. As Rose reeled, Brody kicked her feet out from underneath her and she fell heavily.

The sorcerer revelled in the sheer power he held, the smug expression plastered back on his face as he looked from Edmund to Rose. He stepped back into the shadows.

"You haven't seen the last of me. I'll be back – you can count on it."

Then he vanished, the shadows seeming to consume him. After a few tense moments of uncertainty, Edmund hurried across the room and helped Rose to her feet. Her lip was bleeding and there would probably be a bruise where Brody had struck her, but otherwise she appeared to be fine.

"Lucy…" she murmured.

Edmund nodded fervently. "Lucy will be fine, Rose. What…what did he do to you? I heard you scream…"

Rose screwed her eyes shut, and Edmund was sorry for having asked.

"He made me see things…feel things…that couldn't possibly be real…"

She trailed off, and the next moment she had her arms around Edmund's neck, her head buried in his shoulder and she embraced him fiercely. Her frame was wracked with sobs, and Edmund awkwardly lifted a hand to stroke her hair. Right now, he was fighting with every fibre of his being not to kiss her – or worse, tell her how he really felt.

This moment was perfect, and he just wanted it to last. Rose was distressed and just needed a friend to lean on…and for now, Edmund was content with that.