Yes, that's some house Martell motto from Game of Thrones right there, I'm really not original, am I? ^^"

I've sort of been rewatching the whole series again, desperately trying to make sens of season 5 (and failing miserably), as well as going through the heartbreak of things I'm far from being recovered from, Ned's execution and Oberyn's death being only minor points on the list (Red Wedding anyone?).

I tried to write this to feel a little better, but my pessimism probably got the better of me.

*sigh* Well, I can always go back and rewatch the Purple Wedding now, that was a nice episode. :p

The encampment was dark enough as it was, and the minotaurs and werewolves making a way for the Witch as she strode past her faithful warriors definitely had Edmund's heart thundering in his chest. What if she suddenly asked one of those beasts to kill him? What would he be able to do then? Because he seriously doubted Fili would manage to rescue him, seen as how they'd had their hands tied around their backs a while ago now.

Eyeing his surroundings in barely concealed panic, Edmund inched closer to the blonde, knowing he was the only person the boy was willing to trust. Were his hands not attached behind his back, the younger Pevensie might have spared a thought for an escape plan, but remembering Fili's hushed advice to not try anything rash, he thought better of it, especially now knowing what devastating consequences it could lead to. The rope was starting to burn his wrists quite a lot, despite trying to move his arms as little as possible. Actually, it felt like they'd both been stuck here for ages, and the ominous dark trees and more than a little intimidating creatures roaming around the camp were doing very little to let Edmund keep his wits about him. He knew that were he to stay here for an extended period of time, he'd snap. Having Fili with him helped, and the blonde had been surprisingly nice to him ever since they'd ended up in the Witches' cell together, but Edmund knew he needed his family, he needed Peter. While Fili was doing a good job at being a substitute big brother, the younger Pevensie realized that nobody could ever replace Peter, nobody could ever fit in his elder sibling's shoes, and the ache he felt for wanting him only grew at the thought. Were Edmund to be granted the chance to see anyone right now, anyone at all, he knew already that the name he'd cry out would be that of his big brother, he'd ask for Peter, and there would be no second thought about it.

"I'm sorry." He muttered. Edmund knew he'd said it already, and he knew it wasn't going to do much to change their situation, but still felt the need to say it. Whether it was to himself or Fili he still wasn't sure. His initial idea of a little runaway from the Beaver's home had ended up taking quite a different turn, one Edmund seriously started regretting. It had been a selfish thought that had driven him all the way there, and while a part of him understood that this must be some kind of punishment he was enduring for being such a beast to his family (well, Lucy especially) and probably Fili's and the beavers' too, the boy still felt like it was a little much. Nobody had come for them either, neither Thorin nor Peter. It had been one of the hopes Edmund had held onto in the Witches' castle, but as the days flowed by and still none of the others had come for him, the boy started sinking into despair. He understood why the others wouldn't want to come after him: after all, he'd been quite selfish and spiteful to the lot of them, but surely they wouldn't have wanted to leave him in the Witches' hands longer than absolutely necessary, right? But still, they had not come, and while Edmund had resigned himself to his fate, thinking a part of it was justified, he felt bad for Fili. He actually felt bad for somebody else, and the thought wasn't nearly as horrible as he'd made it out to be. Caring for others wasn't as bad as he'd made it up to be at all actually, it felt right, and after all the wrong Edmund had done, feeling right felt like a weight lifted off his chest.

Fili wasn't too sure what to answer back. He wanted to be able to tell Edmund that everything would be all right, he knew it was what Edmund needed to hear (being a big brother for Kili had taught him such), but he knew it would be a lie, and it would be useless to get Edmund's hopes up when neither of them could even imagine what would be happening to them over the next days. If he was honest with himself, Fili was scared. Having to be a big brother and constantly reassure first Kili (and maybe Bilbo occasionally) and now Edmund, it was taking its toll, how could he continue to keep Edmund's spirits up if his own were fading? He knew he ought not to think such things, but exhaustion and hunger catching up with him, the blonde was finding it harder to endure, and started to realize that he actually also needed Edmund's support, just knowing he was there to go on.

"Do you think we'll ever see the others again?"

Edmund's head snapped up at the question, and his heart clenched as he read the other's expression.

Fili was starting to give up, and while Edmund was almost willing to do the same, he wouldn't. Somewhere out there, Lucy, Peter, Kili and everyone else were undoubtedly looking for them, Emdund wasn't even considering the thought that their families had stopped at least worrying about them.

"Of course we will. Why on Earth would you think otherwise?" He wasn't angry, actually, he was almost beginning to understand the other a little better. While he'd been so absorbed in his own wants and motivations, Edmund had failed to think of how others might be feeling or reacting around him, he had never really thought it was necessary. But as soon as his own desires had unleashed trouble upon his family and Fili's, the boy started realizing that his own wants had consequences, and that thinking of only himself hurt others. So caught up in his own self loathing while he'd been confined to his frozen cell, he'd failed to even grasp the idea that he wasn't the only one to suffer or be scared. Surely Mister Tumnus, who had probably been looked in there for a lot longer than he must have been terrorized by the point Edmund had joined him. And if what Fili had told him, of how he'd ended up here, was true, then Edmund actually realized that he'd had a relatively easy life, one where despite being horrible to his brother, he'd still looked out for him and put Edmund's needs above his own. The knot of guilt suddenly tightened in his stomach, and the younger Pevensie took in everything that had been done for him while he'd just acted like an ungrateful child. Well, no more.

Leaning his head on Fili's shoulder, in what was an attempt of being reassuring, Edmund did what he could. Peter wasn't here, he wouldn't comfort either of them, and Fili had already helped him in their cell, now it was his turn.

"I'm sure we will, Fili. Peter will find Aslan, I know he will. And then they'll come for us, just wait and see, they'll come."

Both knew the words had no true meaning behind them (for all they knew, the others could all have met a gruesome end by now), but were they to hang on here any longer, they needed hope. Edmund knew Fili was close to breaking, and the darker-haired youth knew he needed the blonde to keep on going himself, and if it took soothing lies for them not to despair, Edmund would allow the words to spill from his lips, knowing it was what both of them needed right now. It was wrong to lie, but if it was to prevent them from resigning themselves to this, Edmund thought it a light price to pay.

Fili was too exhausted to fight the lie. Having to constantly reassure Edmund that they'd make it out alive was actually making him realize that, no, their chances of escape had reduced from being slim to absolutely nothing. Maybe he should have listened to Edmund when he'd suggested they'd make a run for it, maybe he should have at least attempted something. But Fili knew he wasn't Thorin, he'd never be his uncle, and he'd never have neither his wits nor his ability to plan anything. He was next in line to the throne of Erebor, a fighter and once a future king, and now found himself needing comfort from Edmund, Peter's younger sibling, a child still. While a meager part of his pride felt it like a shattering blow, Fili was past caring by now: he needed Edmund to go on as much as Edmund needed him, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his calm façade up for much longer, and were Edmund not there, it would have crumbled already.

A ruffling of feet to their left had them looking up and Edmund's heart rate sped up immediately as he recognized the crude figure striding towards them as Ginnabrick, the Witches' close minion. If the sneer adorning his face was anything to go by, he was definitely not here to give them a good time, but Edmund would not let his fear show. If Fili couldn't find it in himself to be strong anymore then Edmund would, he had to. And he did. Raising his head to meet the intruder's eyes, sticking his chin out in an act of defiance, Edmund waited for the slimy words to leave their captor's mouth, for him to torment them, but knew already that he would not be swayed, he would not allow himself to believe whatever lies the other would spill. He waited, head high and shielding himself against whatever distorted things were to come.

Ginnabrick hadn't really paid close attention to either of the two whelps the Witch had got her hands on, he cared not for their names or how they got here either, to be honest. But being one of the few dwarves among the Witches' army had it's downsides, notably with everyone looking down on him he quickly got shoved from one place to another, hurtful comments following him everywhere and slowly lighting up a fire within him. Being one of the Queen's closest soldiers, he still held his title, and if those other creatures wouldn't recognize him as a superior, then he could always go and torment their prisoners.

"His own little Prince, does he want his little fluff?" he sneered, a mock caress of his torn robes on Edmund's cheek. The younger Pevensie just leaned out of the touch, glaring up at the dwarf, well intent on letting him know he was not ready to be beaten down by his words. If, like Mister and Misses Beaver had said, that he would be king, he would not let himself crumble to words, a king was stronger than that.

"Special treatment for her special boys."

The loathsome face snapped between the two prisoners, and both Edmund and Fili tried leaning away as far as their bonds would allow them, eager to get back to a conversation between the two of them.

"Wasn't that what you wanted?"

Edmund knew the words were there as bait, for him to snap out and say something against them, but he held on tight, refusing to let his anger take control of him. He knew what letting his emotions get the better could do, and even if he would have liked to just let them control him this time, he resisted, knowing he was better than that. He could handle himself, he was no child anymore.

"Go away." He muttered under his breath, eager to be left in peace. He knew why the dwarf was here, and he knew he wasn't about to give in, so it was a bit of a waste of time on Ginnabrick's part for seeking them out in the first place. The Witch wanted to break them, knowing a broken King could do no good ruling, but breaking would mean that Edmund accepted her as someone powerful, that he would be ready to bend the knee to her and recognize her as an Empress of Narnia, which he wasn't. She would do no good by the Narnians were she ever to rule, and just thinking of Mister Tumnus' fate carried out to the mass of innocent souls out there made him shudder already.

"Maybe your friend wants to play?" The boy's nerve to speak back to him! Had the Queen not expressively told her army to not touch neither the boy nor the dwarf, Ginabrick would have struck the fool for his insolence already, but his hand froze at his waist as images of what the Queen was capable of doing when her anger got the better of her flashed in the back of his mind. His arm itched, however, it was begging him to just strike the whelp, let him know his place, but fisting his hand tight, nails biting into his skin, Ginnabrick let it fall to his side, before striding off, he could vent out his anger elsewhere.

Edmund felt pride swell deep in his chest. Despite being strapped to a tree, tired and hungry, and probably not in the least looking like a future King of Narnia, he'd finally managed to repay the dwarf his insolent smirks and threats. It may not have been much of an accomplishment, but it let Edmund know that he was still hole, unbroken, and it was that way that he wanted to return to his family, to Peter, and say sorry, not as a shaking boy bent down on his hands and knees.

"Don't let words get to you, it's the first step towards falling down, and once you're down, you shatter. Shattered pieces can be stuck bat together, they can be mended, but they'll never be as strong as the whole was before. Use the words as a shield, like me. I don't believe the lies about my siblings or your Uncle being dead, I won't believe it, not until I see it with my own eyes!" Edmund's voice had risen a little, something burning, stirring in his insides, but it felt right, standing up against taunts and lies, thinking of other people before himself: maybe this was what Mister Beaver had meant when he'd said that he saw kings and queens in him and his siblings. It wasn't just the crown, it was also the work that had to be done to get there. The selfish brat, thinking of only himself and Turkish Delight that had scowled the whole evening in the Beaver's dam was being buried, leaving in its stead the king, the one Mister Beaver had seemed to entranced in, the one who was supposed to give hope to others, to a whole kingdom. Edmund had come to learn to value others, even those he barely knew or were not part of his family, he'd seen what injustice brought, what abuse of one's power lead to, and swore to himself that, were he to sit upon the throne the beavers' had claimed to be waiting for him, he'd see to it that each and every soul he could tend to would be treated equally.

He understood now, how Peter must have felt, needing to be the pillar for he, Lucy and Susan to lean on after Father had gone off to the war, he'd seen how it had exhausted his brother. But he wouldn't be carrying all of the weight anymore, Edmund, as his brother, would help, would share the burden equally, as was right, and would see to it that their family would get back together again. He knew he'd have some apologies to make and that tears would be shed, but the thought that Peter wouldn't want him was long gone. Had Peter done the same to him, Edmund knew he still would have accepted his brother back, he didn't doubt himself as much.

But Fili did, and Edmund saw it.

Fili had always doubted himself, despite the constant reassurances that came from his brother and Uncle. But having seen the way Thorin dealt with many a situation on their quest, Fili had seen where his Uncle had managed to be the King the company had needed, he'd always kept calm during difficult situations, and had always had his wits about him, even in Mirkwood when faced with the elven king himself, and many knew the hate and resentment that Thorin held towards Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. The younger dwarf knew that, had his Uncle been incapacitated for any brief amount of time, he would have been the one to lead the Quest on, and he knew he could never have done it. Thorin had it in him, to be a leader, he'd been raised that way and had constantly been beside his grandfather Thrór as he grew up, so he knew how leading and ruling went. Fili didn't, despite his Uncle's lessons. And yet here was Edmund, a boy who knew close to nothing about being a king and despite that, he was still acting like one, he wasn't giving in because the pressure was too much, he wasn't bending over because of the responsibility, he was actually holding his head up high, like a king, a king without his crown.

"You really are something, you know?" He half chuckled, realizing how much Edmund had actually changed since he'd risen from his seat in the Beaver's home. He'd been a boy back then, a selfish little boy who cared for none other than himself and his own desires. Now though, only a few days later, he seemed to have suddenly grown up, and had not resented the maturity that had come along with it. Edmund seemed to be understanding a lot of things much better actually, and while Fili really hated to admit it given the irony, at least one good thing had come out of their misfortunes. "You'd make a good king, someday." He added, smiling back at the darker haired boy.

"Really? You really think that?" Edmund hadn't really spared any thinking about the fact that he was supposed to take up one of the four thrones at Cair Paravel, the thought actually made him quite anxious. While he wanted to do good by the people of Narnia as best he could, he knew it wouldn't just come, like that, he'd have to work hard and study to understand the functioning of the court and everything that came with the title, and the thought was definitely not helping to soothe his apprehension. Peter would rule well, he knew that already. Peter, righteous Peter who tried to do good by everybody and who usually (occasionally annoyingly) succeeded in doing so, would make for a good monarch. But him? A traitor brother occupying one of the four seats of power, it was an abhorrent thought. While Edmund wanted to do what he could to help, would the Narnians even accept him? Would they even want a boy such as him on the throne to begin with?

Fili nodded. Yes, Edmund would undoubtedly be a good king. He might need a little support, in his early days, but give it a few years, the boy would certainly mature into a more than respectable ruler, one who had learnt to learn from his mistakes, to use them to make him stronger and firmly believe in his convictions. When they reunited with the others again, Uncle Thorin would definitely get something out of a small talk with Edmund.