Thank you for all the lovely reviews; they absolutely make my day! Our story is drawing to a close very soon; this chapter sees something of a resolution, more or less...And then there will definitely be one possibly two more chapters after this. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, it feels a little rushed, but I am a little rushed today so I will post as is for now and possibly revise later.

The two cloaked figures were surprisingly quick on their feet, or rather tails, and the cave was much too small for Peter and his guards to take full advantage of their superior numbers. Before Peter quite knew what was happening a satyr and one of the talking dogs lay on the floor, bleeding and still. The two figures slithered back, blood dripping from their daggers as they laughed from beneath their hoods. Peter ducked as one of them slashed at his throat; to his left he saw Orieus lash out with his front hooves, catching the other figure in the chest and throwing him back against the wall.

But the two cloaked figures were not the only danger; the sickly coloured vines began snaking through the air, threatening to wrap around anyone not quick enough to avoid them. Peter plunged his sword into the other cloaked figure's chest and the creature shrieked and dropped, writhing to the floor. He struck out, nearly blinded by the confusion of the dim lighting and cramped quarters. His sword struck the vines which tried to snare him but seemed to do them no harm. The force of the blow numbed his arm and nothing else seemed to happen.

Briefly, through the chaos, he saw Edmund stir. His brother opened his eyes, blinking at the confusion before his face clouded with pain. Peter thought he could see blood staining his brother's shirt. "Edmund!" He dodged a mass of vines, trying to make his way across the short distance that separated him from Edmund. Lucy slipped past him, small and quick enough to reach Edmund's side without mishap.

Then, everything stopped. The vines froze; seeming to lose their power of motion in a single second. Peter's guards lowered their weapons and looked about them, panting and confused. Peter himself felt a sudden tremor of fear as a deafening sound tore through the suddenly still air; it was the roar of a Lion.

He dropped to his knees when he saw Aslan, suddenly filled with shame at his doubt. The Lion bent his head and looked into Peter's eyes. "Why have you doubted Me, Son of Adam?"

"I'm sorry Aslan, when you didn't answer my prayers I thought-" Peter stared at the blank floor. "I thought you had abandoned us."

"My son, My answers to you will not always be spoken. It was I who led Lucy to this place, it was I who gave your brother strength when he was most in need of it, and it was I who have watched over you and guided your steps. Do you now trust in Me?"

Peter nodded silently, not daring to look up. "And now, Peter, your brother has need of you." Peter stood shakily, still not daring to look at Aslan and crossed the cave to kneel beside Lucy; she was crying. Edmund's face was far too pale and Peter saw that he had been right, blood stained the whole front of his brother's shirt and coated the vines that still bound him.

"Edmund?" Peter shook his shoulder. "Eddie?" Edmund blinked, eyes unfocused and stared at Peter blankly. "Come on, let's get you out of here." Peter slashed at the vines with his sword; nothing happened. He tried again, but still the vines did not break.

"Peter, just wait." It surprised him to realise it was Edmund who had spoken. "They'll let me go, just…wait a minute." He closed his eyes, breathing shallow and Peter wanted to scream in frustration.

"Lucy, the cordial, quickly!" Lucy shook her head, silent tears streaming down her face.

"I can't, Edmund made me promise to wait. They won't let him go if we heal him." Peter turned, despairing to Aslan, but the great Lion merely nodded, his eyes sad.

Edmund coughed, blood staining his lips. He opened his eyes weakly and smiled. "It's good to see you, Pete. Took you long enough." He coughed again.

"Why won't you let Lucy heal you, you idiot?" Peter was crying, and he didn't care who saw. The world beyond their desperate huddle seemed very far away and unimportant.

"Aslan told me what I must do." Edmund's voice was growing slowly weaker. "The Witch wasn't real, Pete, it's this place, the vines. They'll let me go once I'm not useful to them anymore."

Not useful? "Edmund!" Peter shook his shoulder desperately, feeling the vines begin to loosen their hold as he did so. A moment later Edmund closed his eyes, his breathing almost inaudible. Peter slashed at the vines again and again, bloodying his hands on the stones. He threw away his sword and pulled at them, trying desperately to break them. At last they crumbled in his hands, suddenly turning to dust and Peter found himself catching Edmund as his brother slumped forward with the vines no longer there to support him. He laid him on the stone floor, terror threatening to overcome him as his brother's blood soaked his hands.

"Lucy!" But Lucy was already uncapping her bottle of precious cordial. Her hands shook as tipped a few drops into Edmund's mouth. They waited, holding their breath as nothing happened. Come on, come on, please Edmund, Peter begged silently and still nothing happened.

"Peter." Aslan's voice surprised him; he was so focused on Edmund that he had nearly forgotten the Lion's presence. "What do you fear most, Son of Adam?"

"Aslan, please, won't you help Edmund?" Lucy turned her tear-filled eyes towards the Lion.

Aslan growled softly. "Peace, Lucy, this is Peter's battle now. Tell me, Son of Adam, what do you fear?"

"This," Peter answered quietly as he brushed his brother's unruly hair back, listening to his breathing slowly fading. "Being too late, failing one of my siblings, failing Narnia."

"It is well answered, and now, you must let that fear go."

"I don't know how." Edmund coughed, blood running from the corner of his mouth and Peter at last felt despair replace his fear. The cordial hadn't worked; he had finally been too late. "I failed him, Aslan."

"Yes." The Lion's voice held no reprimand however. "Everyone fails those the love and this was not of your doing Peter. Let go of your fear; you can never know what would have happened if you had been here sooner, you can only know what will happen now."

"And what will happen, Aslan?" Peter was terribly aware that Edmund had stopped breathing but he could not tear his eyes away from those of the Lion. Aslan bent and touched Peter's forehead with His nose.

"That depends upon you, High King. Trust yourself not to fail."

Peter bowed his head and took a deep breath, struggling to see through his grief and hurt, to find some part of himself which was still confident and untouched by the pain he felt. He remembered the last time he had held his dying brother at the Fields of Beruna; he had believed himself to be too late that day as well, but somehow Edmund had survived. Somehow Peter had not failed. He would not fail now; he could not.

"Lucy, try the cordial again." He was surprised when his voice didn't shake; this was his last, desperate hope but suddenly he didn't feel afraid anymore. It would work; it had to.

Lucy stared at him, her eyes red. "P-Peter, he's not breathing. It didn't work."

"Just try again! Please Lucy," he added more gently. "It will work, please just try."

Choking back tears Lucy once more placed a few of the precious drops in her brother's mouth. This time the effect was almost instantaneous. Edmund coughed, half choking on the blood still filling his mouth, and took a deep, shuddering breath. His eyes fluttered open and took in the worried face of his siblings and then, impossibly, he smiled.

"Why is it that you two are always hovering?" His voice was still terribly weak but it was such an Edmund thing to say that Peter almost wanted to laugh. He pulled Edmund into a fierce hug and pulled Lucy into the embrace with his other arm. They were all laughing and crying and a great cheer arose from Peter's guards when they saw that Edmund was alive. No one quite remembered afterwards when Aslan left. One moment He was there, looking down at the Kings and the Queen with great love in His golden eyes and the next He was gone.

Edmund stood shakily after a moment, with Peter's help, and stumbled across the room to the cluster of guards. Peter thought he was looking for Philip, but a moment later, to every one's astonishment, not least of all Orieus, Edmund had thrown his arms around the centaur and hugged him. Orieus gave Peter a slightly panicked look over Edmund's head as he clumsily returned the embrace.

"I'm glad you're alive, Orieus," Edmund said, looking slightly sheepish as he stepped back. "I thought you were dead while I was asleep." The centaur nodded, still looking rather confused and Peter shrugged in answer to his questioning look.

"Ed, what happened to the Witch? The guards here mentioned her I think, but no one has found her yet." Peter swore silently to himself that if the Witch was to be found he would kill her himself.

Edmund shook his head, still unsteadily. "She wasn't real."

"We both saw her." Peter found himself wondering in Edmund was still dazed from whatever dreams had haunted him. "Besides, someone wounded you."

"It was the vines, there's a book, I'll show you when we get home." He rested his head wearily against Peter's shoulder. "Speaking of home, can we please get out of here now?" The cordial may have healed the knife wound but he was still exhausted and weakened; he wanted nothing more than to return to his own room and sleep for a week, undisturbed by nightmares.

Peter exchanged a doubtful glance with Lucy. "It's a long ride back, are you sure you feel up to it?"

His brother shrugged. "I trust that between you and Philip one of you can make sure I don't fall to my death on the way home."

Philip snorted and tossed his mane. "I should say so, I'm not likely to let you out of my sight anytime soon after what happened this time. Didn't I warn you that trouble follows you wherever you go?"

Edmund stumbled often as they began the slow climb through the cramped tunnel. By the time they reached the cave entrance Peter was practically carrying him as he stumbled along, eyes half closed and his whole body shaking with fatigue. Peter nearly insisted that they turn back and wait out the rest of the night at least, but the desperation etched on Edmund's face as he struggled on silenced him. Peter knew that nothing short of unconsciousness would keep Edmund from returning home at once.

They were barely nearing the foot of the mountains when Edmund slumped forward on Philip's back and would have fallen if Peter had not been riding close enough to catch him. Cursing, Peter called for the troupe to halt as he struggled to keep Edmund from falling while keeping his own balance. It always came as a surprise when he realised that Edmund was now nearly as tall as he was himself and he could no longer support him as easily as he once could.

For a moment both brothers were dangerously close to falling and in the end, it was Orieus who kept them from disaster. The centaur lifted Edmund from Philip's back as easily as if he were still a child and carried him as he had once before on the night Edmund was rescued from the Witch's camp.

Peter thought he saw a glimmer of tears in the centaur's eyes and he realised suddenly just how much Edmund meant to their stern general. We will talk brother, soon, and then you will at last see how much you mean to all of us. His own eyes burned as they turned towards Cair Paravel. Thank you, Aslan, for my brother's life. Thank you for returning Narnia's shield to us, and let no one forget his value.

So...Everything that's happening at this point is definitely real, hooray! That means Orieus is alive, Peter and Edmund are reunited and the Witch was essentially the physical embodiment of one of Edmund's worst fears. I promise there is some nice fluff coming up soon, so keep reading!

Cheers,

A