Here is Chapter 12! I had wanted it out a lot earlier, but with it being Christmas everything has become so insanely busy for me, as I'm sure it has for many of you as well!

Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

"Peter...Peter – wake up you big oaf!"

Peter felt himself getting jabbed in the side, then in the shoulder. He moaned loudly, wanting so badly to just keep his eyes closed and be left alone and undisturbed.

Edmund had been the one to bring Peter his supper as he tended to the sheep, and his little brother had even volunteered to stay longer, well after it became dark, so that Peter could rest his eyes.

He didn't know when he actually fell asleep.

"Peter, someone is coming, I think they're here to take your place. It's time to get up." Edmund came again. Peter could tell he sounded urgent, and it was smart that he did. Peter shouldn't be caught sleeping on the job or skimming his duties onto his little brother, but he had been working in the fields since before the sun came up, and then he had been sent straight to the sheep, and then he had eaten and got his belly full, and...and, well, he just needed a few more minutes...

"Wake up!"

"Oof!" Peter grabbed at his gut where his brother had just shoved him hard. His eyes flew open in an accusatory glare. "Ed!"

"Someone is coming and you're asleep! Don't give Hargeph any more reasons to not like you. Now get up."

"You're getting as bossy as the Tarkheena." Peter said, sighing and rubbing his eyes, then his neck, then his back. He propped himself up against a skinny tree that was in the clearing and looked out into the darkness. Ed was right. Past the sheep and the empty landscape, Peter could see a single torch walking from the house towards them. He was relieved, if not annoyed that he had been woken.

But then he looked to Edmund and felt bad for it.

His brother's eyes were half lidded and bloodshot. His clothes were as rumpled as his hair and he looked as weary as can be – and grumpy because of it.

"Edmund, you could have woken me up earlier."

"I know."

"You should have."

"I know."

Peter huffed. "You need to rest, too."

Now it was Edmund's turn to sigh. "I know, Pete. But they're working you harder. Not to mention you're out in the sun and heat all day." He said, coming to sit and lean against the tree with him as they waited for the on comer to reach them.

Peter watched as Edmund struggled to ease himself into a sitting position, and then massaged his hip, his face distorting into discomfort.

"Still hurting?"

Edmund looked over and paused, realizing he'd been caught. "It's not so bad, just the popping that's the worst of it."

Peter didn't buy it, but there was no reason to say it. Edmund already knew.

"I'm sorry."

"No need to be. It wasn't your fault, and there's no fixing it. Might as well get used to it."

Peter looked at his little brother and hated the disappointment he found on his face. "We'll figure out a way to help you. Just as soon as we're home, I'll have the healers come look at you."

Edmund wanted to bite back with something akin to, 'And when will we be home?', but he knew that was just his weariness talking, and he wouldn't let Peter think that he wasn't doing enough to help him. So, Edmund simply nodded and said, "Thanks, Pete."

The two sat in silence until the man who was taking Peter's place finally reached them. He looked surprised to find two of them out there, and then tried to get them to believe that one of them must be supposed to stay and that he merely got his duties mixed up.

The boys weren't having it.

Before too long Peter and Edmund were making their way back up to the house. Peter felt bad making Edmund take his empty cup from supper back to the kitchens, so he insisted that he'd do it himself, stating that he was hoping to sneak another few sips of water. Edmund was suspicious but relented, happy to just have his brother walking with him back towards his own quarters. It was nice to have it be just the two of them and no one else around to treat them badly or separate them. Both were keen to prolong this time together, no matter how tired they were.

As they reached the back garden that connected to the home, they stayed to the outskirts of it, taking the dirt path that led around to the servant's entrance.

They heard the voices before they saw anything.

Both Peter and Edmund froze in place. Peter was allowed to be out of his quarters at this time of night because of the sheep, but Edmund wasn't.

But the voices weren't coming towards them, nor were they even aware of the boys presence.

Once they felt this was certain, Peter and Edmund tiptoed forward, further down the path. The servant's entrance was close but to get to it they'd have to pass by a side pavilion connected to the home. It served as an exit and entrance that only the family or esteemed guested were allowed to use.

The lit torches around the pavilion produced just enough light to allow them to see who was speaking, but kept the boys shrouded in darkness.

Tarkhaan's Oraleth and Ariondi stood towering over their mother who was seated in her wicker wheelchair.

"Speak swiftly, Mother. We must make good time if we are to present our gift here before the celebration is over." Ariondi said, ever the impatient.

"You will have you time soon enough, Ari. I only need a moment with her." Tullah responded.

Ariondi looked to his elder brother who only gave the younger a look that said, 'patience, she's an old woman', before he, too, spoke up.

"We will go make sure that the horses are ready to go. Come along, brother."

The two walked a short ways off into the darkness, but both Peter and Edmund could make out their tall figures and the great dark masses that were the horses as their tails flicked.

But what they hadn't seen in the darkness was the slim figure that was standing in the doorway until she was already in the torch light. She came to kneel before Tarkheena Tullah, her back to Peter and Edmund.

Tullah used her balled fists to shakily push back Rineeda's hair from her shoulders. "You remember now, stand up straight, and do not look them in the eye."

"Yes, Tarkheena."

"It is as the poets say, 'Tight lips and swift feet-"

"-'Are of sound trust'. I will remember." The boys could not see Rineeda's face, but her voice sounded soft, and even a little sad.

Whatever the girls look may have been, Tullah studied it with her serious, but not hard eyes. "You will be treated well. I've heard great things of Tarkhaan Shandeer."

"If I may, your son speaks otherwise of him, Mistress."

Tullah nodded and took the girls hand in one of her own as best as she could, though it turned out to be more like Rineeda holding one of Tullah's. "My son knows of Shandeer's clever dealings and sharp tongue when it comes to Calormen's politics and the Tisroc, may he live forever. But I have heard no such things about him when it comes to his slaves. He is a man of triumph, and this celebration is to commemorate that."

"For his sinking and plunder of the Galman ships?"

"For his ability to convince them it was an accident. His past precedes him, for his skill in battle is widely known. But it is his tactics and policies that have gained him greater success. He is an excellent politician and one that has risen up through the ranks of Tashbaan's society. And that is why you are to be gifted to him and why you must work hard in all you do for him, whatever that be. Our family cannot have any more rumors of unruly slaves. So, listen well, act with prudence, and you will thrive where you are planted."

"Yes, Tarkheena." Rineeda's head dropped just a bit, and though the boys could only see Tullah's face, they could tell both women were solemn.

"Do you know what he will do with me?" Rineeda asked.

"No. It is up for him to decide what duties his slaves perform." Tullah said, but it was clear that she saw how Rineeda's shoulders slumped and how that wasn't quite the answer the girl wanted.

"I am sorry, Rineeda, that things turned out this way. I did fight for your place here. But," And suddenly the old woman's face became stony and her lips pulled tight. There was a tenseness that appeared in her posture as she pulled her spine straight and when she spoke, her voice became sharp and strict. "...you know why it couldn't be. My son has to do what is best for the family and our position. And, well, a slave will not disrupt that. You know your place amongst your greaters, so you should not have expected my family's place to be sacrificed for you. You are a gift to Shandeer now. I have taught you well, preparing you to be better for him and his home than you ever were for me. Do not dare to shame me with disservice there. Understood?"

Once again, the boys could not see Rineeda's face, but her shoulders fell completely and she took an audible breath in. "Understood, Tarkheena."

"Good." Tullah eyed her up and down, then pulled her hand away roughly. "Pull yourself together, girl. They are waiting."

Rineeda wiped her face, took a few deep breaths, then threw her shoulders back. It did not escape the boys attention that despite her show of the contrary, she was trembling.

She turned the corner of the pavilion and found the men waiting. Ariondi grabbed hold of her arm and led her off further into the darkness. Oraleth looked about to follow, but stopped first to speak to his mother.

They spoke in hushed tones so quiet Peter and Edmund couldn't make out their words, but Tullah forced a single hand open. And although it took time and shook and her fingers weren't straight, it silenced Oraleth, who straightened himself and shook his head with annoyance before leaving her be.

Peter and Edmund watched as the Tarkhaan's took the girl away and as Tullah watched them go.

The old lady felt suddenly distant and detached. The whole air around her was cold and it reached the boys even at their distance.

It actually surprised Edmund. He knew that the woman was no nonsense, and hard to please, and worst of all a Calormene – among other things. But Edmund felt that she was much softer than she seemed, if you only you stuck around long enough to wait for her to peel back her hard exterior. It shocked him to see her turn from kind and sad towards Rineeda to suddenly hard and uncaring. He thought certainly this must be a coping mechanism, since the old woman seemed to not be very close with many people. But the way she said slave, the way she so easily and coldly turned Rineeda away, made him think twice. After all, Calormene's saw people of lower stations differently. As something to be bought and sold and passed around. A trinket.

Is that how she truly sees us? Edmund wondered about it. He had felt like he was actually charming the old lady, if not only mildly. But then again, he probably only felt that way because she was bored and lonely and old. She was disabled. She couldn't get around easily on her own. She needed someone to fill her time with. To entertain her. Edmund quickly felt very foolish for believing he had swayed her any little bit.

Peter, on the other hand, felt almost sick. He hated the way the Calormene treated those that served them. Clearly all Rineeda wanted and needed was a bit of comfort. And why wouldn't she, she was just a girl. And one that was alone, scared, and being forced away from the only place she seems know. In that moment, Rineeda reminded him of Susan, which reminded him of her being taken away. And that reminded him of the pirate ship and all the Narnian's killed aboard it. He prayed to Aslan to calm his anger, though it be righteous anger.

Neither boy said much after that, and they didn't stick around to see how Tullah ever so slowly forced her hands open and feebly and painfully turned the wheels of her chair mere inches at a time until she was back in the house. And it was a good thing they didn't, because it took her a very long time.

The boys snuck through the darkness until they reached the side entrance they were allowed to use. They deposited Peter's cup, said their goodnights, and then Edmund was off to his quarters and Peter back outside to his. Both laid their heads down thinking of home and family, and Aslan and safety.

Susan woke up the next morning feeling much better than she had the day before, though she couldn't say she felt good.

After hanging her head over the side of the ship multiple times – and one of those times failing to get there fast enough so she ended up ruining the shoes of one of the Calormene – they finally decided to be of some help to her.

They allowed extra water and food to be given to her, let her walk around the whole of the deck as much as needed, and then, though she was chained, they sat her to rest in a shaded portion under the stairs so she could breathe fresh air but still find safety from the sun. To top it off, this morning they actually allowed her a cold water bath. It had been days since she had gotten such a luxury and she was sure that it was more because of the smell and her appearance than just to be kind. Regardless, she took it happily.

But it turned out to be a part something even more peculiar. Larsenilo had called for her to be brought out of her tiny little closet-like room himself. They were going somewhere.

He hadn't spoken a word to her in days and the last time he had even tried to have an interaction with her, he had been trying to come to her while she slept. That was, until that rumbling came like it had after he attacked her in the alleyway.

Susan still wasn't sure that she hadn't dreamed him trying to come into her room, but it had felt real. Despite whatever may have happened though, it was clear Larsenilo was acting strange. He wouldn't come near her for almost a whole week after that and now all of a sudden Susan had been told to clean herself up because she was finally going to be leaving the ship. He wanted her to make herself presentable like she always had to when being shown to potential buyers.

"Seems he's had enough with you, O Flower." One of the Calormene shipmates said with a mocking laugh. Susan couldn't tell though if he was mocking her or Larsenilo.

"I'd think so after all the mad tales he's been speaking, like he's suddenly a great soothsayer. The woman here isn't the only one who the heat has gotten to." Another of the men spat, then the two of them cackled together.

"What tales? What are you talking about? I've barely seen the man in days." Susan questioned.

"Days or not, you Flower have thoroughly bewitched him. Do tell us, what exactly did you do to him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about! What could I've done to him?" Susan was growing frustrated, especially as the men continued to laugh. Clearly, they weren't taking her or Larsneilo seriously.

The men on the ship always seemed to revere Larsenilo, even seemed a little fearful of him. So to hear them mock him now was surprising. Susan pondered these things as she stood waiting, one wrist chained to the mast, for the Captain to emerge from his cabin. It was hard to know what to feel, for she hated the ship and the men she was taken captive by, but would wherever she was going be any better? Would Larsenilo finally send her to one of those brothels like he threatened? If he's truly had enough of dealing with her...

Her mind became caught up in all of her questions but the sound of a door slamming shut alerted her. She watched as the Captain made his way down the stairs and across the deck towards her.

His sturdy gait was a little forced and his eyes tired. His wrinkles seemed more profound and his presence, though still dark and menacing, lacked its cool charm and swagger.

As he approached and saw her, his dark eyes danced a little, then his face dropped, and finally he covered it all with a gritty, hard expression.

"Surenah." He said, his eyes tracing over her.

Susan pulled her spine straight. She suddenly felt like the Queen she was for the first time in quite a while. It didn't matter if she didn't look like it. She could still exude the cold strength of one.

"Is that all you can say? My name? You locked me in a room for a week! I nearly passed out from the heat!"

"But you didn't."

Susan scoffed. "What do you want with me? And why now?"

The Captain's jaw muscles twitched. "I am finally going to get my money's worth for you. You will be sold and I can cleanse my hands of you once and for all." Suddenly his face darkened and he leaned closer, gritting out in quiet, harsh tones so only she could hear, "I will be free from your trickery woman. By Tash almighty, I will be free."

Susan felt the need to recoil, though there was nowhere for her to go. Still, she found herself pushing her back against the mast. She didn't like the glint in his now wild like eyes or the snarl in his tones.

Her response seemed to please the man and gave him a hint of confidence. He called for his men to unchain her, and then he gripped her arm with intensity.

"You're hurting me."

"Good."

He dragged Susan along the deck, closer to the docks, and the reality really started to set in. Susan didn't know where he was taking her, but if his actions or demeanor were any indication, it couldn't be somewhere good. Her heart began beating hard. Panic seized her and she blurted out her words without even realizing it, pulling to a stop.

"I want my brother's cloak."

He looked at her like she was stupid. "I did not take a cloak from your brother. And you would be smart to mind your mouth. You do not give the orders here."

Susan ignored his last words, only focusing on what she wanted. "It wasn't on him, it was on me. And you took it. I want it back. It serves no use for you in a land this hot, and even if you managed to sell it, the strings are cut and there are blood stains on it." Susan said, not only remembering wiping Edmund's face clean of other's blood with the garment, but also feeling the arrows she'd tied with said cut strings digging into her thigh, chaffing her now.

Larsenilo's jaw muscle pulsed as he chewed on his tongue, looking her over.

"Please. It's not like I am asking for my bow and arrows. I simply want the cloak." Susan tried her best to not have her desperation be known, but she knew she failed. If it wasn't obvious in her tone it would have been on her face.

Larsenilo gave her a smug smile as he thought on her words. Susan knew he was seeing her weakness, her fear. And she worried as to what he would do with it. But then a strange look abruptly crossed his features as his eyes drifted behind her. His features dropped and he looked...anxious, worried – scared – even. Susan turned her head over her shoulder, but there was nothing but a bustling ships' deck. Nothing out of the ordinary. She turned back to the man and saw him squeeze his eyes shut, shaking himself.

"Fine." He spat. "But we leave immediately after that."

Susan wanted to cry once the green material met her hands. Peter's cloak. He had given it to her to wear to keep the cold out and to keep her from having multiple Archenlanders continue to vie for her attention. She was sure him having done that was nothing of significance to him, but it had meant more to her than he knew. Especially now, since that little gesture given on the windy deck of a ship at night left her with the only piece of her family she could hold onto now. And now she could use it for comfort while she cried herself to sleep, or prayed, or simply sat feeling miserable in the heat and worried over her brothers.

Once Susan secured the cloak around her (letting it drape over her shoulders and down her back to keep it from trapping heat around her), Larsenilo took her arm again, this time with less force, and led her off into Tashbaan.

"Are you going to tell me where you are taking me? Finally found someone willing to pay your high costs? What was it you said about it, that you just had to find a desperate enough Calormene, hmm?" Susan asked as they were maneuvering their way through the crowded streets of the city. She was thankful to finally be on land again but there were too many people pushing against one another. It was hot and sweaty and smelled of an odd mix of spices, fish, and body odor. Larsenilo gripped her arm tighter as the crowds pressed in. Susan tried jerking free of his grasp, but the man was resilient, only tightening his grip every time she tried pulling away. She was sure he'd leave a bruise.

But it was in these tight quarters that Susan was able to get a longer look at him. The men on board were right, Larsenilo was not the same. He looked ragged and angry and twitchy. He didn't have the patience to put on his false charm or to even slow down. He was halfway dragging Susan along. She wanted to know what could cause such a man to act this way. So when he never answered her, she went on.

"Your men have been saying you've been telling stories." She paused, but he still disregarded her. "They say you've been acting differently. They blame me for it, or rather, they say that you do. But I've barely seen you in some time. Care to explain?"

The Captain's eyes shot to view her at a side glance. There was a wildness in them that took her off guard.

"I know what you are." He bit out. "Your devils will not scare me. I simply want free from your wanton spell. Tash will not allow your demons to haunt me much longer."

"What are you talking about?" Susan asked for what felt to her like the umpteenth time that day.

"Like you don't know, Witch."

"What?" Susan whipped her head to the side to look at him. His features were tight and dark and he looked almost mad with fervor.

"You heard me. You're a witch. I know that demon lion is your doing. People of the North worship him like he is not the evil being we Calormene know him as. I know you sent him to give me no rest. To where I can scarce get through the day without being plagued by him. But he is no match for the inexorable, omnipotent Tash. And neither are you, Flower."

Susan found herself a mix of emotions. At the insult to Aslan and at being called a witch, she felt hot anger. For she knew Aslan was the opposite of those vile slurs, and because her mind only paired the word witch with Jadis herself. And Susan would be nothing like her. But she also felt confused. She was at a complete loss of understanding for what exactly Larsenilo was talking about and all her questions crowded her mind like a headache. And lastly, well, Susan felt a smug joy, knowing that whatever nonsense Larsenilo was going on about, it was Aslan's doing. For certainly there was no other lion that could instill this sort of fear in a man like him.

A smile tugged at Susan's lips, even once they reached the selling block.