Author's Note: Sorry that it's been a while since I've updated. I have a good excuse, really. My family and I have moved to France for the next three months due to my Dad's change in jobs. Anyway, thanks for your patience!

Warning: This one's a little gorier than it's predecessors.

Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure you're clear on who I own and who I don't.

Chapter 25- Turning Tables & Turning Tides

Caspian watched the two Queens rush about like the maternal beings they truly were. The years they'd spent as monarchs of Narnia, he saw, had not hardened their hearts toward the pain that came their way, but rather softened them.

These two women were the essence of strength. Not timid and dainty like some women of the Telmarine court, yet not manly or independent like others. They had an air of womanliness about them. Maternal instinct matched by bravery and love, hearts devoted to those around them and dependent without being needy. Their hearts were beautiful things and he only hoped that one day his own wife would possess such qualities.

The prince chuckled as he watched the women set about preparing the sick bay for treatment of any of the six that were expected at any point in the next few hours. It was a bit of a dry chuckle, seeing as it was terribly overshadowed by worry, but a chuckle nonetheless. One that served to take his mind off of all that could go wrong, if only for a moment.

Susan was rushing to and fro, making sure there were plenty of roughly made pillows and oddly sewn blankets. The exile of the Narnians hadn't exactly given many creatures the chance to expand their homemaking skills, so these were the extent of their luxurious bedclothes.

The eldest queen, at present, had also seen fit to gather some mens and mouse clothing, to replace any that had been bloodied or dirtied by the trip, as well as a clean dress for the High Queen. Dirty clothes would not do for wounded bodies, she'd said moments before, muttering under her breath.

At Lucy's request, she ran off to issue orders to a few badger women to warm more water, bring more soap, and bring plenty of new cloths.

Speaking of the youngest monarch, Lucy was rushing around muttering medical terms under her breath that even Caspian, with his well accomplished education, did not understand. Her right hand fingered her cordial and she drew it away only to help her left in preparing something- or to run it through her hair the way he'd seen Peter and Isaiah do when they were nervous.

She had prepared the bedding and scrubbed down as much of the surrounding stone as possible. Caspian was sure she would have made it shine if she had been able to. Now the sleeves of her dress were rolled up and her hands had been washed vigorously, until they were pink with agitation. Her hair was tied back in two plaits that were wrapped around one another at the nape of her neck and she wore a long white apron that covered almost the whole front of her dress.

She'd forced Caspian to wash is own hands, sending him back twice before she was satisfied. Lucy had also required Susan to wear similiar garments as she herself displayed and Susan did so without protest. It appeared she was used to such direction.

"Lacerations deeper than three centimeters need sutures, just to be safe. The ingredients to the Naiad disinfecting balm are..." Caspian heard her talking to herself as she passed by, glancing at him again to see if he was to her satisfaction.

It was at times like these that he could see in her eyes her true age, that she wasn't the young girl she appeared to be. Of course, it was likely in part the Narnian air that caused her to look a bit more like her true age. Even to the Narnians that did not see her now, she looked older than a mere eleven years, though none would guess her true age.

Susan came rushing in with a bucket of water balanced on one hip, water sloshing onto her white apron and lavender dress and an armful of cloths in the other. Caspian leapt onto his feet and took the bucket of water from her. She nodded gratefully at him, lips still pressed tightly together.

"Over there, Caspian, between the closest two beds." Lucy instructed.

Caspian carried the water bucket with ease to the indicated location. Lucy took the washcloths from Susan with a small smile and set them on a nearby wooden bedside table and began to fold them. Susan rolled up her apron into her lap and used one of the cloths to wipe up the mess of water she'd made.

"Sorry, Lu." she whispered as she kneeled and wiped it up.

"It's fine, Su. You're doing great." The younger kindly encouraged.

Caspian found it odd that it seemed the two switched places when it came to matters of war or injuries. Often it was Susan that chided her little sister or directed her in what was appropriate and what to do- always with love, of course. She was always lifting up the younger or helping her get through.

But when it came to these matters, the Warrior Queen stepped forward as the Gentle stepped back, knowing it was her younger sister's expertise and gladly relinquishing the role. It was then that Lucy gave Susan directions in what was required and moved about as if she were in charge, which he supposed she was.

When pressed like this, it was also a chance to see another side of their characters. When Susan was stressed, her lips would close tight and she would hardly speak- only to apologize or to give orders. If it wasn't necessary, she didn't open her mouth.

Lucy was also quieter than usual, she offered no idle chatter, but set to work in getting done what was needed to be done. She quizzed herself over all she knew medically and prayed to Aslan, breaking only to give orders to the others or give encouragement where she saw it was needed.

Just then three badgers carrying buckets nearly as big as themselves entered the stone room. They stopped with shocked expressions forming as they stared at the Gentle Queen on her knees scrubbing the floor. Caspian chucked to himself, silently glad that none had witnessed Lucy's sanitization of the room. They would have been horrified. However, Lucy trusted the job to none but herself.

Caspian greeted the three with a smile and thanks to them for their hard work. Taking a bucket from the smallest She-Badger, he directed the rest as to where to put theirs.

Susan stood soon afterward and began to help her sister fold the cloths as Caspian seated himself again.

"Bring two more pitchers of water for drinking, in addition to the three we have already. Our Kings will also be parched and exhausted from their mission." Lucy told another She-Badger, who bowed her head and exited without an audible response.

Caspian continued to watch the two sisters.

Aslan, keep the six of them safe and bring them back quickly. The queens are worried for them, as am I. Put their hearts to rest and help us to remember always that our hope is in you alone.

Edmund followed his eldest brother as the three dashed through the wood. They'd finally lost the Telmarine soldiers sent after them and were nearing the How. It should only be a matter of minutes before the firelight would be within sight.

Glancing down, he jerked his right arm to push Davina's head up near his shoulder. He did this for two reasons: 1. He wanted to avoid giving her any new injuries by being whacked in the face by branches, like the many scraping his own face. 2. He desperately needed to be sure that his sister-in-law was still alive.

Tilting slightly to his left while running was no easy accomplishment while he, Isaiah, and Peter continued to push through the wooded area, but he managed to get her head up on his right shoulder. Knowing he couldn't free an arm to check her pulse, he instead put his ear to her mouth, listening intently over the sounds of cruching branches for breath.

He felt the warmth of her breath tickle his ear and felt his heart soar. She was alright, for now. But her breath was weak, which worried him. He'd also heard a slight gurgling noise, but realized it was likely the nearby creeek hindering his hearing. Her limp body fell back into his arms, no longer propped up by his shoulder.

Peter looked back for the hundredth time, concern evident in every feature. He was worried about his wife, who'd collapsed not long after they'd made their escape into the forest. But he couldn't look back for long, because he was both leading the way and carrying another fallen soldier.

"She's still breathing, Pete." he said, loud enough that he knew both of his brothers could hear him. Even from this angle, Ed could see his eldest brother relax slightly, without even slowing in his pace. He could only imagine how the news had soothed Isaiah.

He knew his brothers well. And well enough that he knew their only true solace would come when they were back at the How and all was well. He could only pray that all would be well.

Miraz saw red when he heard the message this ragged soldier had just brought to him. Drawing his sword, he ran it through the man where he stood. He let the pain and shock in the man's already bloody face quench his bloodlust temporarily as he pulled his sword out, letting the man fall back into a crumpled, bloody mess. After wiping his blade on the green grass below him, he called for another guard to come in and get this dead idiot, whose middle was bloodying the ground in his tent.

The guard came in, fear clearly in his eyes as he hurried away. Miraz wasn't sure whether the fear he saw was revolting to him or exhilarating. He finally settled on revolting, as his men should not be such cowards. It would be truly exhilarating when the Narnians saw that it was his name they should fear, not this lion whom they claimed as their God.

Aslan may be gentle and wild, but Miraz was wild and cruel. He wouldn't, couldn't, rest until every Narnian was dead. And then, when they were gone, he would have a public execution of those so called royals. He would kill them himself. Slow and torturous. Starting with the little one and working his way up the ladder.

Too bad he would have already killed the 'magnificent' one in battle, for he would surely enjoy torturing the sad excuse for a king. No, this Peter was no king. Just a fool, a fool who thought he could take down the fearsome man who would rule Narnia with an iron fist.

Perhaps he would enjoy having the High Queen tortured last. For she was the one who'd defied his rule, the one who'd opposed him without regret. She would pay and he would make sure of it. This 'High Queen' would die by his hand no matter what happened, he would make sure of it.

The battle. He'd agreed to do battle with the Kings and Queens of Old, more specifically a challenge against the High King.

Now the question remained: Would he still agree to their terms of battle? Or would he turn the tables since they had turned the tide?

"They've arrived, Your Majesties. They Kings have returned with the High Queen!" a squirrel ran in chattering wildly before running back out, likely to alert everyone else.

Lucy felt her heart hit her throat before she mentally forced it back in it's place and made it beat steadily again. She couldn't afford for her mind to be clouded- not when there were lives on the line.

As she watched Caspian jump up and run out the door to help, she saw Susan bite her lip and begin wringing her hands.

It astounded her that no matter how many times they were faced with the possibility of death or severe injury to their family or subjects, they still reacted the same. It was almost out of habit that Lucy calmed herself or Susan busied herself once more.

Walking over to her older sister, she took her hands in her own, Susan quickly calming as she looked into the younger girl's dark eyes that resembled Edmund's own.

Closing those chocolate eyes of hers, Lucy bowed her head, sensing her sister doing the same.

"Aslan, you are good and hold all things in your grasp. Please grant us the lives of our family, this dear fellow Drinian, and the noble mouse Peepiceep. However, we trust you to do what is best and right and will not begrudge you if you wish to take them to yourself. Our faith is in you, dear Aslan. You are not safe, but you are good."

Just as they finished, the room began to bustle with activity. Peter stumbled in with Edmund, Isaiah and Caspian on his heels.

"Lu, he has a crossbow bolt in this back." her eldest brother informed her.

"Lay him on his stomach." she ordered, moving into action. She checked the boy's pulse by touching her index and middle finger to his wrist. "It's barely there." she said more to herself than anyone else.

"Susan, triage the rest. Caspian, give them water and make sure each gets in a bed, doesn't move, and follows Susan's directions. Peter, I need you here before you're tended to. Wash your hands. Quickly now!"

The three scrambled to do her bidding as she pulled out her small dagger and cut away the bloodied clothing that clung to the young Drinian's back. She pulled it away to find that he was quickly fading, she could tell he was barely breathing by the movement of his back.

"Now, Peter, we don't have time!" she screamed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Edmund gently laying Davina on her bed, only for the girl to begin shaking and a wet wheezing to reach Lucy's ears. She spun around.

"Susan, lift her off the bed and lean her face downward. She's drowning!"

Susan rushed over and did as she was bid, Davina's still unconscious self threw up blood on the floor, as well as Susan's apron and dress.

Lucy turned back to her current patient and looked Peter in the eye.

"Focus now, Peter." she warned him sternly. "She'll be fine. Focus on the task at hand."

He nodded, shifting his attention back to Drinian as she spoke.

"I'm going to need you to move quickly. When I give you the signal, pull out the arrow, straight up. We don't need any new tissue tearing." she spoke rapid-fire as she quickly washed the area around the wound. "I'll put cloth on the wound before we move him. We'll have to use the cordial immediately afterward, so you'll have to flip him around. Be gentle, though, there's no use jarring any further injuries that can take him from us before we give him the cordial."

Pushing the cloth away, she held the skin around the wound and nodded at her eldest brother. He quickly yanked at the arrow, pulling it swiftly out. The shaft was followed by a profusion of gushing blood that poured over the boy's sickly yellow skin and Lucy's hands. His back arched as Drinian let loose a toe-curling scream that echoed through the hollow chamber.

Lucy quickly grabbed a fresh strip of cloth and pressed it against the open wound as Peter flipped him over. In one swift motion, she pulled out her cordial and poured in a small drop. She watched silently as he stopped breathing for a moment, then took a deep, cleansing breath.

It never ceased the amaze the young girl the way that people transformed when they were healed. She watched as Drinian took deep breath after deep breath, settling into a sleep-like state as his body repaired itself. His bruised and bloody face began to shrink back to normal proportions rather than the swollen mess it had been, and she even noticed his knees shrinking to average size as well.

Now it was time to tend to Davina, whose wheezing and coughing fits hadn't escaped her notice as they worked on Drinian, and were worrying her already.

"Well done, Peter. Go lay down and let Caspian give you water. We can't have you unconscious as well." she told him, then added. "I'll take care of your wife. I can't have you hovering while I tend to her or you could hinder her healing." She knew that fierce warning was what it would take to keep him at bay.

Before she could urge him any further, she heard Susan's panicked voice from behind her.

"Lu, she's stopped breathing!!"