A/N: I am so sorry that the chapters have been so short. This one is for sure, and I mean it, going to be longer than the other two combined. I'll guarantee that.

Beasts were swirling like a hurricane all around. Edmund barely remembered each blow he delivered and which ones he received by what. All that registered in his mind was "block, step back, slash, dodge, lunge, stab.." He'd sliced off the head of a Minotaur, whipping around to find another opponent. It was a lucky thing Edmund had turned around at that moment. A hag dove for him, holding a long, sharp, and strangely engraved dagger with something dripping off the end. She made a swipe at him, but he blocked it with his sword. Another swipe, another block, another lunge, another dodge. Edmund lost his shield at some point, leaving himself with only his sword and wit for his defense.

The hag made a quick move with her dagger, so quick that Edmund had almost missed it, and knocked the sword out of his hand, sending it flying high and far. That was when she made her move. She pinned him into the wall taking her dagger and whispered in her ugly voice in the king's ear. "You see, little prince? This is the consequences you pay." She dug her claw-like nails into his shoulders, dissatisfied when he didn't make a sound of pain, even when she dug them in more deeply.

"You should've stayed with us. With the true Queen of Narnia," she rasped into his ear. Edmund pulled his face away from her, but it didn't make any difference. With you and your friends who have breath that smells like hot garbage? I think I'll pass! he thought. It wouldn't be any help to anger her with snarky comments, and he knew that. He was already struggling to free himself.

"This is your fate. Enjoy it, traitor!" she screeched in her shrill, whining voice, the last part of her sentence, and dug the long dagger into his side. Edmund gasped, pure agony showing on his face. The hag twisted it, drawing a small squeak from him as he tilted his head into the wall while screwing his eyes shut against the pain, a smile on her beak-like mouth. She let him go, watching him slide to the floor. The hag cackled before retreating back a few steps. "Have fun, birthday-boy," the creature taunted. She turned around, looking for another soldier to kill.

Bad move.

Edmund took his own dagger from his belt (Susan had let him keep that too for some reason) and threw it at the hag. The blade landed in the back of her neck, and she collapsed onto the ground. He panted, staring at her for a moment before he realized the battle was almost over. The pain from the dagger, though, was nowhere close to that. He grimaced, trying to pull himself up, but was stopped by a hot, white flash of pain. The teenager dropped back down, instead dragging himself to somewhere that seemed to have a little shelter.

He dragged himself behind the nearest banquet table. Though the silky white tablecloth was covered in blood, along with some dead soldier scattered around (with some images he'd rather have not seen,) it was one of the safest and nearest places he could get to. He collapsed right then and there, the pain from the dagger hot and furious. Edmund could easily tell the blade was poisoned. It had the right stench coming from it, and it hurt plenty more than a regular dagger would. He groaned, every muscle in his face tightened and twisted into a grimace, which was very unlikely for him to do. He could handle pain most of the time as if it weren't even there. But, if he did so much as gasp or yelp, then everyone knew that there was something devastatingly wrong.

And in this case, there was. It wasn't long before he cried out in pain. It was at first mild, but eventually turned into severe screams he couldn't contain that ripped his throat raw. His hands clenched into fists, and his nails dug into his palms. He squeezed them so hard to the point they bled, creating small and red crescent shapes. He faintly heard somebody call his name, but he couldn't find his voice to respond. The only thing that would make past his lips were the screams of torture. But he recognized that voice.

Edmund banged his fist on the leg of the banquet table, and soon heard dozens of footsteps rushing his way. It seemed like years before they arrived. Standing in front of him were a few soldiers with Trodri. Behind Trodri was Susan. But their faces were the worst. The soldiers looked devastated. The healers were urgent. Trodri was panicked. Susan looked utterly horrified.

His sister broke away from the group, immediately diving down to kneel beside her brother. Edmund realized he'd broken out in a hard sweat, and it was making him uncomfortable all over. It felt like his entire body was drenched in it. Susan wiped the soaked black locks of hair that were plastered to his forehead out of his face, murmuring comforting words to him. Trodri was already barking orders, hence the fact that he was only a visitor. A trusted friend with an air of nobility with leadership skills. Edmund corrected himself in his mind. Two healers immediately rushed over, and after taking in the sight of their wounded king, they decided it was best to get him out of there immediately.

Edmund had started tugging at the extra stuff that Susan had put on his attire for the day. The white cloth where the dagger landed was now stained with a dark crimson splotch, spreading a little farther each second.

"Take it off," he whispered, tugging at something near his neck. A soldier came forward and helped him unbuckle and untie all the extravagant little parts on it that annoyed his king. Susan saw her brother continuously licking his lips, and she knew that was a sign of him being extra nervous.

Edmund heard one of the soldiers say something, but everything seemed muddled in his mind. The best he could guess was that the speaker had said, "But how? We can't move him, that's for sure." The group started discussing the topic intently, announcing their ideas. As a healer was sending for a cot to carry Edmund to the infirmary, a sudden burst of agony made itself very known. His brown eyes flashed open, glazed with pain, darker than they already were from that reason. He jerked, a spasm taking him hostage while a sound of torment tore past his lips. A couple of soldiers rushed forward, pinning down his convulsing body. Between his outbursts of sudden screams, he panted like a dog that had ran a marathon in one-hundred degree heat, eyes wide open the whole time during these intervals. He was basically crushing his sister's hand, but she didn't seem to mind.

Trodri pushed past the small crowd that had formed, telling them to back up and give his friend some space. He kneeled down, placing his hand gently on Edmund's shoulder. "Ed, I have to take the dagger out. We won't be able to go anywhere much with it there. Okay?" he said. Edmund immediately shook his head, a frantic look in his eyes.

"No no no no no no no.." The wounded teen pushed his hands away feebly.

"Edmund, I have to take out the dagger."

"Don't.. take out.. dagger," Edmund continued to argue.

"Why can't I take it out?" Trodri asked him. Edmund took a few moments to regain his breath. Even speaking a few words made him breathless from exertion.

"Poisoned.." Edmund had been fighting off the dark fog that had started to engulf his senses, but now he'd said what he'd needed to say. The young king murmured the word again before he faded from his senses, his head dropping onto the marble floor.

Peter stared up at the ceiling, boredom making him able to find interest in every small detail in the room. He was laying on the bed in the room he'd been administered in Galma. Lucy was reading a book, sitting in a comfortable chair in the corner. Something just didn't feel right.

"Peter," came Lucy's voice from the corner of the room. She set her book down with the cover up so she could keep her spot.

"Yes, Lu?" the High King replied, turning to look at her. She could obviously tell he felt something was wrong. That was Lucy for you. Though she looks all innocent and naive, she really can tell if you're troubled or something.

"I can tell you're worrying. How do you think Ed and Su are doing back at Cair Paravel?" she asked. That was the exact thing he'd been pondering. How are they doing? Were there any problems? Can they handle ruling the kingdom alone for the time being? The thoughts had been swimming in his head since their trip back had been delayed. It wasn't Galma's fault, he knew.

It was the stupid weather.

He scolded himself, knowing he was thinking like Edmund when he was being ignorant with everybody. It wasn't rare for his brother to act like that. It was just his personality. And he's been using his personality a lot lately, I'm sure.

"I think they'll be doing well there," Peter said instead. He wasn't sure if he was lying or not. Then he knew what he meant. The kingdom was most likely going well, but Edmund and Susan themselves were a question unanswered. Peter, knowing his siblings, knew that the two that he and Lucy (regretfully) left a couple days ago would rule well together. But why did he feel like he'd done something wrong?

There was a long, dead silence, with not a sound to be heard. You could've heard a pin drop. A smile creeped across Peter's face.

"Lu, you hear that?" he asked, making her look at him in confusion.

"No.. What do you hear?"

"Exactly." It took her a moment to realize what he meant. The rain wasn't pattering against the window anymore, and rays of light streamed in through the window. Lucy gasped and practically jumped out her seat, rushing to the window. Then she let out a little squeal of delight and excitement.

"We can go back now!" she exclaimed. Peter shook his head with a laugh, smiling at his sister. It was like, in her time, it had been centuries upon centuries since they had been to the Cair.

It didn't take long to have everything set up. Their ship to return to Narnia was set up in the port, and everything was prepared. And soon, they were sailing back to their home. Lucy was hovering over the starboard side of the ship most of the time, watching the water rush beneath her, seemingly entranced by it. Lucy could find interest in the smallest or most boring of things. But, that was just her personality. She was the bubbly, cheerful, and light one of the four Pevensie children.

Peter noticed that the usually bright demeanor of his youngest sister was slowly starting to fade as they got closer to Cair Paravel. Was his own wariness rubbing off on her?

"What's wrong, Lu? You don't seem much like yourself," he told her when she wasn't by the edge of the ship.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just feel like something terrible happened.. Or is happening." Peter nodded.

"I can relate."

The bad feeling diminished completely by the time they had the glistening kingdom in sight. They were finally going to be back home! He knew that the shipmen felt it, too. Before they knew it, they were pulling into the port and stepping off onto the dock. It was getting late, and the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. A flaming jewel being extinguished by the salty waters of the sea.

Lucy had sent word to the kingdom before they had set off. It seemed they would be getting back in time for Edmund's birthday. Peter and Lucy both knew that would be the one thing he'd want. Yes, little Lu to keep his spirits up so he wasn't grumbling the whole time. And Peter to share his annoyance with.

And since Lucy had told them they'd be coming soon, they had both of their horses and their guard there. Peter and Lucy could agree that the lot of them looked very anxious. The pace was quick as they left down the path to get to Cair Paravel.

"Poisoned.."

That was why they had to get the dagger out right away, wasn't it? No, it's why we have to leave it in for now If anything, Ed knows his poisons. Trodri argued in his mind. Edmund had passed out and two fauns were quickly carrying him down the halls to the infirmary, the rest of the group following and opening doors and clearing paths. They'd even used a few secret passes that the servants used to get around more efficiently.

As they rounded a corner, a hawk came up swiftly to the edge of the group.

"Queen Susan! Queen Susan!" it screeched. "I bring word from their majesties! They're on their way from Galma." This wasn't good.

"Thank you, Diveclaw," she said breathlessly to the bird. Diveclaw nodded and swerved away.

The doors busted open to the infirmary.

Edmund had awoken a couple times on the way, drifting in and out of conscience. Right now, he wasn't aware of anything, his head lolling from side to side as he was jostled in the hurry. A flurry of movement rose up as he was lowered off of the stretcher and onto a bed, healers dashing and dodging around each other as they shouted orders and ideas.

"Get the bandages! We need BANDAGES!"

"That dagger must be removed this instant, or else.."

"Oh, what a terrible day for our king.."

Though it was all a blur, Edmund soon awoke and was aware to the pain again.

They'd even put a muzzle on him to stop the screaming, since a gag wouldn't help.

This is horrible. Susan thought. It reminded her too much of that day with Lucy on the dawn that Aslan arose from the dead from the power of the Deeper Magic Before Time. So, now she looked down at her brother, muzzled and all, staring up at the ceiling with a pained look in his eyes.

And that's all he would do.

He'd stare hopelessly ahead.

A/N: Whew! I haven't updated in a while. At least I got somewhere ahead of the whole story. 462 words.. I did promise to myself it would be longer than the whole story I've written so far. Thanks for those who have followed/liked this story!

If you have any suggestions or criticism, please advise me on it. This is more of a fanfiction for myself, as the angst and tragedy (and putting your favorite characters through so much horrid stuff [not gross stuff I'm not like that ew] cause it's fun) is my thing. If you like that too..

be my friend now

Why are you still reading this? Click the button for the next chapter if it's there by now. If not, hang in tight!