Okay, guys.

This is officially the darkest thing I have ever written. It's based off of a spectacular story called Poisoned Chalice by the magnificent Keketra. You guys need to go check it out! It's great. Like, really awesome.

So, this is my take on a Dark!Narnia.

Basically, just brace yourselves.

DISCLAIMER: All Narnia characters belong to CS Lewis. The original plot ideas go to Keketra.

WARNINGS: Mind manipulation. Dark magic, blood, and fratricide. Temporary insanity. BUT THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING!

The Story Went Wrong (But Maybe We Can Fix It)

The Four are eating dinner all together for the first time in months. Edmund's been leading a campaign in the West to defeat the last of the Fell Creatures while Peter fought the Giants up North. Lucy has successfully reclaimed all of Narnia's Eastern provinces—even the farthest reaches of the Lone Islands—while Susan stayed back at Cair Paravel to keep an eye on things.

For the first time since their reign began nearly nine years ago, there is peace across all of Narnia.

Susan smiles distantly at something Edmund says while Peter almost snorts wine out his nose. Edmund snickers at his older brother and tries to sneak a gulp from the High King's goblet.

"Hey, no wine for you!" the older boy neatly sweeps it out of reach with a grin.

"Peter!" Edmund protests, ignoring Lucy's impish grin—but she's looking a little pale, and hasn't eaten a single thing or spoken a single word all night and she's actually managed to rip holes in the tablecloth with her fingernails and—he makes a mental note to talk with her after the meal. She's clearly desperately upset about something. "I'm nearly twenty!"

"But not yet!" the High King exclaims with a wicked smile. "When you turn twenty, I promise you, you can drink as much wine as you want to. I can also promise you that you will deeply regret it in the morning."

Edmund pretends to pout, but he knows his sparkling eyes are giving away his true feelings. "Be that way," he sniffs.

Peter laughs. "I will, thank you very mu—" he doubles over, coughing harshly.

Edmund rolls his eyes. "You know, Brother," he says mockingly. "If you swallowed before you breathed, maybe you'd quit inhaling wine into your lungs."

"Ed—" Peter gasps, goblet crashing to the floor, splattering blood-red wine all over Susan's golden skirt. He reaches for her, but she backs away.

"Peter?" Something's not right. "Peter?!"

Edmund screams as Peter falls to the floor, choking and coughing up blood. He crashes to his knees beside his brother's convulsing form.

"No, no, no!" he shouts frantically. "Come on, Pete! You can't do this to me! No, no—Lucy!" he twists around, locking eyes with the Healer. "Lucy, you have to—you have to—" his voice dies as he sees her.

She's got tears streaming from her eyes, hands clamped over her mouth. Susan's hand rests on her shoulder, lightly restraining.

"I'm sorry, Edmund," the Gentle Queen says, face cold and voice impassive. "But he had planned to poison you and forge treaties with Calormen, selling our people as slaves. He planned to turn on Aslan and follow the wretched Tash."

Edmund shakes his head desperately. "No. No, he wouldn't have. That's not possible. He…"

Lucy sobs, and it sounds painful. "I'm so sorry, Ed," she says softly, defeated. "I saw the letters and plans myself. I never—I would never have done this otherwise. He was going to kill you, Ed. And then us."

Edmund stares at her, cradling Peter's upper body in his lap. The older boy's breath is slowing down.

"You—you did this?" Edmund asks her numbly.

Peter gasps for breath, lips turning blue and betrayal in his eyes as he stares at the Silver Queen.

She starts forwards, eyes flooding with a fresh wave of tears. "I'm so sorry, I had no choice—"

"Of course you didn't, Lucy," Susan's hand tightens on her shoulder, pulls her back, prevents her from going to Peter's side. "You never would have done this without the proof." She turns her cold eyes to Edmund. "I can show you the letters and the plans, Edmund. It is undeniable."

"No!" Edmund shouts. He looks down at Peter, and the older boy is barely conscious. "Hold on, Pete," he chokes. "For the love of Aslan, hold on just a little longer."

Peter stares at him intensely, blue eyes alight with love. He raises one shaking hand and gently cups Edmund's face. Then his hand drops like a stone and his eyes go out.

Lucy folds in half and crumples to the floor, sobs wracking her slender frame.

Edmund feels his tears overflow. "No," he murmurs. "No, Peter, please…" His pleas rise in volume and desperation until he's screaming, and Lucy clamps her hands over her ears. Her sobs are utterly silent.

Susan's face could have been carved of marble.

She sweeps out of the room, returning in a few minutes with some guards. "Please take Lucy to her rooms," she tells a Centaur to her left.

The massive grey stallion, Varen, steps forwards and lifts Lucy to her feet.

"Wait," she says, and reaches for Edmund. He jerks away, and she looks as though her world is burning down around her. "I had to, Edmund, don't you see?" she pleads. "He would've killed you!"

He stares at her, shakes his head wordlessly, and she allows Varen to pull her from the room.

Susan sighs, drawing Edmund to his feet and wrapping her arms around him.

He tries not to notice how much it reminds him of the Witch's icy embrace.

The funeral is a nightmare.

The condolences are all nightmares.

The months that follow…he doesn't know a word strong enough to describe them.

It's terrible. It's all his worst nightmares come to life and playing out right before his eyes.

Aslan comes to the funeral, and Susan's face is white as death when He finally turns away from her. And Lucy…Edmund doesn't know what He says to her, but the Silver Queen bolts as though her life depends on it. She disappears across the horizon of her Sea and doesn't come back for three weeks.

To Edmund himself, the Lion says only, "You brought him peace, Edmund. Have no fear, Dear One. You will see him again."

Edmund can only assume whatever lie Susan came up with held firm, because she is still alive when the Lion departs.

He does not come back.

When he is not traveling or holding court, the Western King spends much of his time wandering the Cair.

Susan takes the throne as the High Queen, as is her right as eldest. She is cold and impervious to all emotions, it seems. She is known as the Gentle Demise, and no other country dares to oppose her, or threaten her remaining siblings. The ones that do have a nasty habit of dying bloody in their sleep.

Lucy becomes a shadow of herself, always smiling and bringing joy to those around her, but her eyes have turned a very sickly dark green, like a poisoned sea, and they are dead. Her smiles are fragile and sharp, and they will cut you if you get too close.

Edmund tries not to notice how Susan's political opponents never survive more than two days after Lucy arrives to visit their lands.

(He tries not to remember that one time he went to her rooms to ask her about it and found her in a heap on the floor, bloodstained hands ripping at her hair, silent sobs wracking her emaciated frame, and blood-soaked dagger on the floor before her. He doesn't go to Lucy's rooms anymore.)

Other realms have begun to call the younger Queen the Whisper of Death for two reasons: one, because she is never heard, never seen, never caught, and thus, can never be blamed for the deaths, and two, no one dares speak of her, not even in a whisper. He tries not to think about the monster Susan has turned their beautiful, bright Lucy into.

He himself holds court, and conducts diplomatic negotiations and lives his life as though nothing has changed.

But he doesn't drink wine. And Susan's "proof" is laughably flimsy—well, to him. To seventeen-year-old Lucy, who trusts in Susan with all her heart, and who never took much interest in the political matters anyway, it would have been all the proof she needed.

Not to mention it was backed by several of Peter's most "loyal" soldiers and guards.

(It is mentioned that it took Susan the better part of three months just to convince Lucy that the horrible suspicion was, in fact, true. Then it was another two full months to coax her into helping end the life of the High King.)

He does know that Lucy—now a brilliant politician and spy, the Whisper of Death, Susan's perfect weapon—has not looked over the letters since Peter's death.

It wasn't possible for her to do so.

Susan burned them the day after she showed them to Edmund.

Wouldn't do to have her new weapon turning on her now, would it?

Edmund watches her rule with an iron fist, knowing that this whole story is so very wrong. But there is nothing he can do about it.

So he just judges his court and negotiates with diplomats and tries not to see the bloodstains on Lucy's fingers.

(He knows he should probably be trying harder to save her, but she poisoned Peter, and he doesn't really know what to do about anything anymore.)

They go after the White Stag.

The creature is beautiful and wild and pure, and Edmund doesn't say it aloud, but he really hopes they don't catch it.

Especially Susan. He doesn't know what she would do with it, but he knows it won't be good.

Lucy…she'll just do whatever Susan tells her to. There's an emptiness to her eyes, now, a deadness that only sparks to life when she's snuffing someone else's out.

But when the Stag runs right between him and his little sister, it playfully nudges her leg, and Edmund nearly falls off his Horse when a tiny real smile pulls at the corner of Lucy's mouth, and her eyes become alive again with the light that she used to possess so much of.

But then Susan draws her bow and lets an arrow fly. She misses, but the sharp thwack! of an arrow striking a Tree—and the Dryad's subsequent scream of pain—and his sister is gone as quickly as she'd appeared.

Susan's puppet is firmly back in place.

He shakes his head and concentrates on not catching the Stag.

When they spill out through the wardrobe doors, Edmund can only stare at his hands—his very small, very weak hands.

He looks around him, but only Susan and Lucy are with him.

He feels his heart sink. What in the name of the Lion are we going to tell Mum? So sorry, Mum, but your oldest daughter went power-mad and murdered your son for his throne and then turned your youngest child into an insane, psychotic assassin and I didn't do anything because I was afraid I'd be the next name crossed off her list. My bad.

He slowly pries himself to his feet.

Susan flies up and nearly falls over, unused to being so small. "What is this?" she whispers, face paling even farther. "What have you done?!" she half-screams at Lucy, who's staring at her own hands.

"They're clean," she whispers hoarsely, twisting them this way and that like she can't believe her eyes. "They're clean."

Edmund feels nausea crawling up his throat. "Lucy," he says carefully. "You always clean your hands very well."

She looks at him. Her eyes are still too green. "All the stains are gone," she tells him.

He looks away from her as the door opens and the Professor walks in.

"Ah," he says quietly. "There you are. Come along now, if you please." He gestures out towards the hall, and Susan's eyes catch fire.

"You have no idea to whom you—" she begins, but the Professor sighs.

"I understand exactly to whom I speak, My Lady," he says, just as quiet. "Now, if you please. You are needed in my office."

Susan closes her mouth and backs away from the man, but Lucy is staring at him with her head tilted to one side.

"I know you," she says, and she sounds so much like the child she was that Edmund wants to cry. "Don't I?"

Professor Digory crouches down in front of her and lets her see that his hands are empty before he slowly and carefully tucks her hair behind her ears. She lets him.

"Yes, Majesty," he says gravely. "You do know me. Although, if you'll pardon my saying so, I don't think you know yourself very well anymore, my Queen."

It does not escape Edmund's notice that he calls Lucy a Queen, but Susan was only a Lady.

From the way Lucy blinks slowly, she saw it, too.

Susan has already swept out of the room and down the stairs.

Her scream echoes through the entire house, and the two youngest are moving before they consciously decide to. They run down the stairs, yanking weapons off the wall as they go: Edmund a sword, Lucy a dagger.

They burst into the Professor's office in perfect sync, Lucy dropping low like the predator she is with her knife wound back and ready to fly and Edmund above her, sword raised.

But Edmund's sword hits the floor pretty quick when he sees just what has Susan so terrified.

Peter is sitting on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate on the table before him. His blue eyes are full of pain and sorrow, and they are pinning Susan in place.

The once-queen is as pale as snow, and her mouth is frozen in her scream of horror.

The High King turns at the sound of Edmund's blade crashing to the floor, and love washes over his face as he smiles.

"Ed," he croaks, holding out his arms.

"Peter!" Edmund sobs, flying across the room and into his brother's chest for the first time in six years. "Peter! You're alright!"

"I was perfectly healed the moment I fell out of the wardrobe," the oldest boy whispers against Edmund's hair. "Aslan spoke to me before He brought me back. He explained everything." He looks back up at Susan and offers her a tiny smile. "I forgive you, Sister Mine."

She staggers backwards, then flees up the stairs. Her door slams.

Lucy is still standing in the doorway, knife held loosely in one hand. Her eyes are very wide as she looks back and forth between Peter and Edmund.

She is not stupid.

She can connect the dots.

But both of them can see that she's desperately trying not to.

"Edmund?" she says finally. "What's going on?"

Edmund swallows hard. "Susan lied, Lucy," he says, deciding that it's probably best to just go for it.

She stares at him some more, and her blade clatters to the floor. "What?" she whispers. Her face drains of color alarmingly fast, and she nearly falls, fingers latching desperately onto the doorframe.

"No," she murmurs, soft and broken. "No. No. No, no, no. She didn't. She wouldn't. She is the Queen and her word is law. She is my queen. She would not. She would not. She would not."

Peter looks like he's about to be ill. "Lion's Mane," he whispers, but just the mention of the Lion is enough to send Lucy scuttling backwards, crashing into a bookshelf and desperately shaking her head.

"I didn't!" she cries. "I didn't do it, I didn't, He was wrong! She wouldn't! She couldn't have! If she did it means I—it means that I—NO!"

Peter's face is as white as hers, and tears glitter in his eyes. "My God," he rasps. "What has she done to you?"

She stares at him for a long moment. "You never meant to kill Edmund or ally with Calormen, did you?" she asks, more lucid than she's been in years.

Peter shakes his head.

Lucy nods for a long time.

Then she collapses to the floor and is violently ill.

"Oh God," she half-screams, half-laughs, sounding every bit as mad as she is. "Oh, God. I—I killed you." Her hands start ripping at her hair. "And all those people—" she retches again.

Peter falters when he tries to rise to his feet, and Edmund is quick to support him. The oldest boy's eyes are fixed on Lucy. "Lucy!" he calls, but she doesn't hear him, rocking back and forth and sobbing and muttering, "No, no, no, I killed them all, I killed them all, I killed them all, I killed them, I killed them, I killed them!" until she's howling it, screaming and shrieking and sobbing, all of the pain and horror of the past six years spilling out in a poisonous flood.

"What did she do to her?!" Peter sobs, crashing to his knees beside her and forcing her hands away from her head. There are little flecks of blood under her nails—she's cut herself. Peter drags her into his arms and rocks her, shushing her as best he can.

She's still screaming.

Edmund shakes his head. "I didn't even think she was capable of feeling anything except what Susan told her to anymore," he says.

He realizes a moment later that that probably wasn't the best thing to say when Peter shoves Lucy into his arms and is rather violently ill himself.

We really are going to have to apologize to the Professor, Edmund thinks distantly. We are making a horrid mess of his floor.

Then he realizes that he's holding Lucy. He hasn't held Lucy in years. She quieter now, clinging to him with guttural, painful, silent sobs wracking her tiny frame.

"I'm sorry," she gasps out weakly, fingers curling into his collar. "I'm so sorry, Eddy."

His heart leaps. "Lu?" he asks, voice trembling. Was it…could it be? Had Aslan returned his Lucy to him at last?

She cries harder. "I'm sorry," she repeats, sounding like a broken record. "Aslan, I'm so, so very sorry. You were right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Lucy," Peter says, voice rough with tears and exhaustion. He's standing before them now.

She pulls away from Edmund and throws herself down at Peter's feet. "I'm sorry!" she cries. "I'm so, so so—" her sobs take over again, and she covers her face with her hands. "I let her words manipulate me and destroy the trust and faith I had, not only in you, but in Aslan as well. I murdered you, My King! I betrayed—" she gives a gutwrenching cry, the sound of a breaking heart. "I betrayed the Lion! I betrayed Aslan!"

Peter falls to his knees and lifts her face.

She won't look at him.

"Face me, Daughter of Eve," he says, and if he squints just right, Edmund can see a crown of gold on his brow.

She is trembling. "I dare not," she whispers.

Peter's voice gentles. "If ever you held any love for me in your heart, Valiant Queen of the Eastern Sea, I bid you raise your head in the name of Aslan."

She raises her head. She is still trembling head to foot, but her eyes are the color of a stormy sea, and there is more life and sanity in them than there has been since Susan first began to twist her soul.

Peter's eyes are blazing now. "Aslan spoke with me before He returned me to this place," he said gravely. "He explained all to me. He told me how Susan manipulated you, and how long you resisted. He told me of the drug she slipped into your food, to make you more compliant. How you still fought it for so long that she at last turned to the dark arts, enlisting a Hag to bend your will to hers. But the spirit of the Valiant is not so easily subdued. So she had the wretched creature enslave your mind. But you still would not give in. So Susan decided—" Peter closes his eyes and swallows hard. "Susan ordered the creature to shatter your sanity and cloud your mind. You are remembering and feeling things much clearer now, are you not?"

Lucy stares down at her hands in wonder. "I am," she whispers. The tears come again, but they are softer. "I can—I can think. My thoughts—they are my own again."

Peter's heartbreak is visible in his eyes. "Oh, Lucy," he says brokenly. "Those things she made you do…I blame you not, my beautiful Valiant Queen." He strokes her hair and wipes her tears. "I blame you not," he repeats.

She leans into his hands, then opens her eyes and gives him a smile.

It is kind and compassionate and absolutely, completely Lucy, and Edmund crashes to his knees, sobbing as a thousand emotions slam into him all at once. He feels like he's going to be ill.

No sooner has the thought crossed his mind than gentle hands are stroking back his hair, and a beautiful voice is singing softly in his ears. Lucy hasn't sung for years, and the sound brings back memories of crashing waves and laughing merfolk. Long days sailing the clear blue waters of the Eastern Sea.

He can feel his heart rate slowing, but he can't stop the tears.

"What's wrong with me?" he asks shakily, and Lucy's voice hitches.

"I'm sorry," she says, voice very small. "You were nosing around. I gave you—" she sniffs hard, and when she speaks again, her voice is firm and confident, like the Queen she once was. "Susan forced me to mix a draught for you. It was administered to you at breakfast every day. It kept you docile and apathetic to everything happening around you. It completely dampened all of your emotions. She said—" Lucy takes a deep breath, and there is anger in her next words. "She said it was to keep you safe. I believed her."

"Not your fault, Lu," he says, and oh, it feels good to be able to call her that again, to look at her and see Lucy looking back at him, not Susan's twisted puppet.

She leans her forehead against his, her tears still falling like rain and mixing with his. "I'm still so sorry," she says. "I killed so many innocent people, Eddy."

He wraps his arms around her, and Peter around them both, and that's how the Professor finds them hours later.

It takes Edmund and Lucy months to recover from Susan's betrayal and torture. Edmund is easily overwhelmed by the full spectrum of his emotions, since they've been thoroughly locked down for the better part of six years.

Lucy drives herself from her bed screaming almost every night, memories of the horrors she committed in Susan's name running through her head.

Peter or Edmund—or both, as the case usually is—find her on her knees in the bathroom, retching and sobbing out apologies to the dead.

They take her back to Peter's room, and all three pile on the bed with Lucy in the middle, clinging to Edmund with Peter behind her, holding tight to both of them. The oldest boy whispers stories to them of the Golden Days, when they danced on Midsummers Eve with the Dryads and the Fauns and the Stars. Of the days when Aslan was no stranger to the court of Cair Paravel.

Edmund's heart eases when Lucy stops flinching at the mention of the Lion. There is still pain in her eyes, but the fear is fading fast now.

(It occurs to him now that no matter how she feared Aslan, there was never any hatred in her eyes when His name was spoken. Not like Susan.)

There is one night, however, when all three of them share a dream.

They are at the site of Aslan's camp during the war with the Witch, where they met the Lion for the first time. Peter and Edmund are standing down by the tents, looking up the hill where Aslan stands…with Lucy sobbing into His mane. The Lion is shedding golden tears of his own, and His great paw is wrapped around her, and she is clinging to Him as though she will never let go.

Edmund starts to run forward, but Peter catches him gently. "Let her have a moment longer," he says, and his eyes are bright with joy and tears when Edmund looks up at him.

After an endless heartbeat, the Lion and the girl walk down the hill to them. Her fingers are twisted in His mane, and her eyes are finally back to the crystal blue-green they're supposed to be. There's still something a little broken in them, but Edmund thinks that little bit won't be entirely fixed until the day they step foot in Aslan's Country.

She offers him a beaming smile and flies into his arms. He holds her tight as he meets the Lion's gaze over her head.

"Thank you, Aslan," he says hoarsely. He knows there are tears streaking down his face, but it's Aslan.

The Lion steps forward and breathes on him, and he can feel his pain and anguish and grief and anger fade away. He does the same for Peter, and the oldest boy wraps the youngers in his arms.

"Be at peace, Sons of Adam," the Lion says gently, sitting down in front of them. "Be at peace, Daughter of Eve. In your true hearts, you remained loyal to Me. The False Queen has strayed far from the path I had set for her, but this was no fault of your own. You are My children, and I love you dearly. Never forget that."

"Is there any hope at all for Susan?" Lucy asks, going forwards and curling up between the Lion's front paws as she used to. Peter laughs and follows suit, leaning against Aslan's side with Edmund next to him.

Aslan purrs and lies down, curling around them. "Yes, Dear Heart," He says, kissing her forehead. "There is always hope and forgiveness. One day she will remember, and I will be waiting."

Lucy nods, pressing her face into His mane and closing her eyes. "I'm glad," she whispers. "I do still love her, though it is so very hard to even look at her now."

Aslan's golden eyes are full of pain, and a single tear falls into Lucy's hair. "She will need that love, Lucy, before the end."

Peter's arm tightens around Edmund. "I don't know if I can forgive her, Aslan," he says, voice tortured. "For what she did to myself…that's not a problem, of course I forgive her for that. But what she did to Lucy and Edmund…" he shakes his head. "I think I'll rather be needing Your help for that. It's a bit too much for myself."

Aslan touches His nose to Peter's brow, and he straightens as the strength of the Lion floods through him. "My help you shall always have," Aslan tells all three of them. "Until the end of time. Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen."

Lucy smiles, bright and joyful and whole, and Edmund can't help the giddy laugh that bubbles out of him.

"Does that mean…" Peter's eyes are very wide.

Aslan laughs. "Yes, you will return someday. And there will be no more deception and hatred. It will be as it was in the first years between the three of you. The land itself is much changed, but I will guide you on your way. Trust Me, as you once did, as you always have, and I will make straight your paths."

"We trust you, Aslan," Lucy says simply, her faith glowing in her eyes.

The Lion purrs. "I know, Dear One."

"Will you stay with us?" Edmund asks Him. "Just a little while longer?"

"Yes," Aslan meets his eyes. "I am always with you, even when you cannot see Me."

"I will never doubt it again," he says hoarsely. "Forgive me for my unbelief?"

"All is forgiven, My Child," Aslan assures him. "All is forgiven," He says to Lucy, and her smile makes the sun look dim.

They stay there with the Lion until they fall asleep, waking in England again but unable to mind it because now they have a promise of returning home someday.

Susan stays even further away from them than usual that day, while the Professor smiles widely at them as soon as they walk into the kitchen for breakfast, and Edmund knows that they can see the golden glow of the Lion around them.

Even the Macready seems less….well, like the Macready.

Susan excuses herself early, but Lucy slides out of her chair and runs to her before she can escape. She throws her arms around her waist with all the exuberance of her youth, and Susan freezes in shock.

"I love you still, Sister-Mine," the Silver Queen whispers fiercely. "And all is forgiven in my heart."

She releases her and places a kiss on the older girl's forehead. "By the grace of the Lion, may the Gentle return to us soon," she says with a beautiful smile.

Tears start to flow down Susan's cheeks, and when she turns to look at the boys, she finds only soft smiles full of love.

Lucy squeezes one of her hands. "When you are ready," she says, "Aslan will be waiting for you. As will I."

"As will I," Edmund crosses the room to kiss her cheek, taking her other hand.

"As will we all," Peter says. The High King presses a kiss to her forehead and holds her tight for a moment. "The Love of the Lion guide you home soon, Sister."

They smile at her again, then let her go.

She stares at them for a long time. "I—" she starts, then bursts into sobs and runs up the stairs.

The boys sigh, staring after her, but Lucy's eyes are sparkling. "She'll be back," she says confidently. "He's already got to work on her heart. It'll be as warm as it used to be soon, just you wait."

And Edmund and Peter exchange grins. Oh, they have missed the girl who trusted Aslan with all of her heart. Her unwavering faith is back, and Lion have mercy on any who try to sway it again, because the Valiant Queen will have none.

Lucy doesn't wake them with her screams that night, and on realizing this the next morning, they run down the hall to her room and burst through her door—only to freeze in place.

Susan is already there, curled up under the covers with her arms wound securely around Lucy.

Both girls have tearstains on their faces, but Lucy's lips are lifted in a smile, and the brothers barely exchange a desperately hopeful look before they leap onto the bed, on top of the girls.

There's a lot of shrieking and laughing in the next few minutes, and when they settle down, Susan promptly bursts into tears, sobbing out apologies to them and Aslan.

They surround her and smother her in hugs, forgiveness, and love, and before long somebody accidentally pokes Lucy in the stomach and she shamelessly starts a tickle war—which she loses horribly when all three of her older siblings gang up on her.

They're all a laughing, crying mess at the end of it, but the bonds of love and family have been restored, and when they grow quiet, they can hear the Lion's purr.

Susan's tears overflow again, but she's smiling, and she knows that she has been forgiven.

She never does have a dream with the Lion, but that doesn't seem to make much difference with her.

The Gentle is back.

Well, mostly. Every now and again, her eyes will go cold, but Peter still rubs his chest with haunted eyes some mornings, and Edmund knows that he still shuts down sometimes, and they've all caught Lucy throwing knives outside before.

They're all still a little broken, but they'll be broken together, and that makes it okay.

Okay, first of all, I would apologize, but I'm not really sorry.

Second of all, this is going to run all the way to Dawn Treader, at least. I don't know about Silver Chair or The Last Battle, but it probably will stop after Dawn Treader.

The Prince Caspian installation is already written, so that'll be up...well, later today, I guess, cuz it's really FREAKING late right now and I honestly should be in bed. But anyway.

Okay! So!

Loved it, hated it, let me know!

And don't forget to check out the original, Poisoned Chalice, by Keketra!

Till next time!