I don't own any characters other than Delaney. All other characters, plot, and fictitious lands are property of their respective owners.

"Take all my mistakes. Throw them away. Destroy them for my sake."

Relient K : Less is More

13

Delaney opened one eye and looked around. There were pools of light nearby and wonderful warmth by her shoulder. She snuggled closer and something wet and smelly dragged across her cheek.

"Ulgh, dog breath," Delaney mumbled.

"She called me a dog!"

Someone yawned and a young voice answered, "Well, you were licking her."

Delaney opened her other eye and waited for her world to come back into focus. It was either very late, or very early. Torches had been lit along the walls, lighting up the infirmary. It was a wreck. Furniture was smashed and scattered, supplies were strewn about the floor. She looked over and Grim was on the cot with her, his furry body up by her bare shoulders, lending her heat. A Tiger cub was curled up under her arm, swatting happily at her curls. Peter was the only other person in the room. Even the bad-tempered centaur was missing.

Peter went to the door and opened it. "She's awake, Grim. Now, go." The Wolf nuzzled Delaney briefly before he left the room, his tail between his legs. Peter shut the door and stood against it. He regarded her with steady blue eyes, his face completely blank.

"What happened?" Delaney asked, her voice a dry croak.

"I would prefer if you could tell me." Peter's voice was monotone.

Delaney opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. If she told the truth, she was going to have the entire Telmarine delegation down on her head. "I can't remember all of it, King Peter. I think…" Delaney sighed. She wasn't about to lie to Peter. He'd been nothing but kind to her, and if he was considering Lady Grace, the kindest thing Delaney could do in return would be to warn him she was out of her mind. "I think I made an enemy out of Lady Grace."

Peter's face softened slightly. Only slightly. "Thank you for telling me the truth. I was curious as to whether or not her threats would stick to you. But I wasn't talking about your run in with Grace. I was referring to what's on your back."

Delaney looked down and belatedly realized she wasn't wearing a shirt. Someone had stitched her up again and her chest and ribs were bound with bandages, so it wasn't a modesty issue that made her suddenly gasp and turn red. She hid her face in her hands as Peter came closer and sat on the edge of the cot. The Tiger cub crawled into Delaney's lap, purring loudly to try and comfort her.

"I would never have guessed that you were a tattoo junkie. And I must admit, we had a pretty hard time making yours out." Peter gently touched her back and Delaney went rigid. "Let's start with number five, shall we?"

Delaney shook like a leaf. "I can't. I can't, please don't."

He waited, his hand resting at that point where the first jagged line of lettering crossed her back. "Number five," he repeated.

"Do not scream," she whispered. "Strength is in silence."

"Number four," Peter said quietly.

"Never cry. Tears show weakness. The weak are annihilated."

"Three." Peter's voice was rough.

"Agony is life. Embrace it or be destroyed by it."

"Two."

Delaney was struggling to breathe. "King Peter, please."

"Number two, Delaney."

"To acknowledge pain is to acknowledge failure."

"Number one." Delaney was silent. She shook her head, her eyes terrified. Peter traced the marks on her back that peeked out of the bandage and quoted. "Number one. Failures will be punished."

Delaney's punishment was all over her back.

Terrible, puckered scars twisted madly over the pale skin. Half of the ugly black list that had been crudely tattooed into her skin was unreadable, disrupted by the angry purple gashes. There were small circular scars dotting around her spin, sinking into the skin, leaving craters.

"Do you know what it did to Lucy when she saw this?" Peter asked. His voice was gentle but his face was still livid. "She was sick. The hole in your side she handled without blinking. The blood, it didn't faze her at all. But this…who did this to you, Delaney?"

"I did it to myself." Delaney's voice had lost all emotion. It was void.

Peter went to the other side of the cot so he could look at her. "You expect me to believe that you lashed yourself? That you were so angry you beat your own back bloody?"

"I was weak," Delaney said. "I cried. I screamed. I failed."

Peter closed his eyes against the ugliness in her words. "So that list, those five rules to live or die by, that's your personal mantra, is it?"

Delaney snarled and jumped out of the cot, scaring the Tiger cub to death. Her body rejected the movement and she immediately crashed to the floor, still weak from the blood loss. "Not mine!" she screamed at Peter. "Never mine."

"Then who, Delaney?" Peter helped her back up and put her on the cot. She was shaking, her brown eyes full of tears, though not one fell. "Tell me who did this to you!"

"Da! My da did it! He's an army captain, Peter, and I made him look weak. I cried. I got hurt and I cried!" Delaney looked frantic to make him understand. "He has four sons, and not one of them cried. I couldn't stop! He had to make me stop…"

Peter was staring at the floor with an intensity that frightened her. Delaney tried to control her suddenly constricted throat and burning eyes. She had given up a secret. The secret, and she was ashamed of herself.

"How," Peter said suddenly. "How did he make these…marks?"

"He…he hit us."

Peter turned his heavy, blue gaze off the floor and redirected it at Delaney. "With what?"

Delaney was breathing heavily. "Belt mostly."

"And these?" He touched a circular scar near her spine and she jerked.

"Cigar."

Peter's stomach twisted at the thought of what Delaney's father had done to her. He only nodded. He stood up and walked to the door. "I'm so sorry, Peter. I can tell you're angry and I'm sorry."

He froze, hand on the doorknob. "I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at the person who brainwashed you into thinking that you deserved to be treated this way. Your father should be very thankful that he is in a different world from me, and doubly thankful that he's beyond Edmund's reach. As it is, Ed's going to need some time to get control of himself. He was thrown out of the infirmary after he… redecorated in here."

Delaney looked around. That explained the broken furniture and the mess.

"He's gone out with the Western Patrol for a few days to cool off."

"You mean he's gone?" Delaney's voice hitched up an octave.

Peter turned back to look at her. "That worries you?"

"It's my fault." Delaney covered her eyes. The Tiger cub crawled back into her lap and Delaney hugged him with all that she was worth, policy be damned. The cub allowed it.

Peter shook his head. "We needed to get him away from Lady Rose, anyhow. Although the official story is that we've sent him away from you. Troublemaker that you are." He smiled half-heartedly. "This is your home now, Delaney. You never have to go back to that place."

"King Peter, I have to go back." Delaney was looking at Peter like he was mad. "My brothers are there. If I'm not there, he turns on them. I have to go home."

"Then I'm happy for your sake that there is no way out of Narnia." Peter left and Delaney curled up on the cot. The Tiger cub purred loudly in her ear, and the soothing noise put her back to sleep. The Lion kept her bad dreams away.

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