Every inch of Peter's body ached, as he was dragged back to her throne room. His quiet pleas were entirely ignored. As soon as he reached the throne room, he was thrown down before her.

He did not even have to look at her to feel her unwanted gaze. She grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to his wobbly feet.

She started with his wrist again, snapping the bone. He screamed in pain, cradling the broken bone. He staggered back.

He did not even see the satyr who swung a hammer right for the side of his knee, shattering the bone again. Peter collapsed, tears sprung out of his eyes, as they crippled his bones.

All he could do was move his shackled hands to conceal his head.

"I grow tired of hearing him cry," Jadis taunted. Peter shook his head, trying to move his broken bones to prevent the dwarf that held a cloth between his hands.

"Please, it makes it hard to breathe," Peter tried to reason before the dwarf tied the cloth between his teeth and around his head.

They then proceeded to break more of his bones. The snaps and cracks were awful sounds to Peter's ears. Even still, he just wished it would be over.

Before long, he could not move any part of himself, not even to protect.

That was when he heard it. The horns. Narnian horns.

Peter tried not to get his hopes up, but as Narnian soldiers burst through the door, his heart soared. Leading the charge were Edmund and Susan.

Edmund went straight for the White Witch with several of their soldiers. Susan came to Peter's side.

"You look terrible!" She exclaimed. She tried to help him move, and he cried out in pain at her touch. "Sorry," she quickly said. Peter could no longer see Edmund, but he heard the clashes of metal. The fighting was still going on. "We need to get you out of here. Can you move?"

Peter sadly shook his head. Almost every bone was broken. He barely could move his head without causing an extreme amount of pain.

"I'll go get someone—"

Susan never finished her claim. She jolted forward, grimacing in pain before she collapsed to the ground. Peter tried to call her name, but no clear version came out.

An axe was stuck in her back. She was dying before him.

"No, Susan!" Peter screamed through the cloth. That was when a head landed in front of his face. It was Edmund's.

Peter screamed and writhed, only causing himself more pain.

His eyes squeezed shut. He had to block it out.

It is not real; this cannot be real.

When he heard the fighting stop, he gathered his courage to open his eyes once more. He had to blink back the tears that were pressed to the surface.

There was no rescue. There were no Narnian soldiers. There was no dead Susan. No dead Edmund. It was all an illusion. A fake. Peter could not take it anymore.

As the illusion faded away, Peter's heart constricted. This final hope was crushed before him. Sobs came out before he could stop it.

He lied there, crying into the iced floor that provided no comfort at all. The gag nearly made it impossible to heavily sob, but Peter managed to do it.

He no longer cared who of them saw. His hope was shattered. He watched the White Witch kill these hopes for freedom as she had destroyed the illusion versions of his siblings.

"The only rescue you will ever see will always be an illusion," Jadis told him.

No one was coming to save him. Peter choked on his sobs. He was going to be trapped here. In a quiet voice, his mind still told him his siblings would find him. It did not change the despair his heart felt.

So even as the White Witch started to mend his bones slowly with an intense pain, he cried for a lot more than just the pain she was inflicting.


Riding back the way they came felt like the longest ride Edmund had ever taken. Every step Phillip took just was a painful reminder that he was going to have to face the White Witch once more. Although they made haste for Peter, Edmund could not help the impending dread that he was experiencing.

The worst thought that found its way to Edmund's mind was asking what she had done to Peter. If Peter had been her prisoner for days, what awful things had she done? What happened to his brother when Edmund was not there to protect him?

The gnawing guilt rested on his bones firmly. As they retraced their steps back to the castle, Edmund kept reminding himself to not focus on the guilt of Peter's capture until they got Peter back.

He prayed to Aslan: both for inner strength and his assistance. He desperately hoped Aslan heard him. Most of all, he asked Aslan to protect Peter. Over and over again, he thought to himself, please, Aslan, keep Peter safe. Protect him.

It did not make the journey go any faster, but it did keep Edmund from falling apart.

By the time they did reach the castle, Edmund felt as prepared as he could. When the castle came into view, Edmund froze. He felt like he was eleven years old again, not a king with his trusted soldiers around him. Because just like then, he would have to muster the courage to enter the castle once more. Thankfully, Edmund's reasons this time were significantly more important than before.

His fingers tightened around Phillip's hairs, twisting in them.

Peter is in there. You have to go in, he told himself. Peter would charge right in there to save Edmund if the roles were reversed, Edmund knew that. Granted, from what Lucy had told Edmund, Peter tried to go into the castle to save Edmund even the first time. Only Mr. Beaver stopped him.

"You can do this, Edmund," Phillip whispered to him.

As Edmund and his soldiers stopped on the ridge above the slope that led down to the castle's courtyard, Edmund motioned for Phillip to venture forward, only to be stopped when Kelo quietly called for Edmund's attention.

Kelo approached him and suggested, "Your majesty, we should send our scouts inside the castle to locate King Peter and how many await us on the Witch's side."

"Last time we sent scouts, they did not even see Peter," Edmund pointed out.

"We do not know the magic the White Witch is using," Kelo said. "It is better to attempt reconnaissance than to go into this situation blind."

He was right. It was unwise to enter into enemy territory without any reconnaissance. There could be a hundred of Jadis's followers waiting for them. Or there could be two. Granted, there was also the White Witch herself to deal with.

"How long will this take?" Edmund asked, trying to keep the impatience from coming through to his voice. Peter was in danger. The longer they waited, the more time he would have to spend with her.

He must have failed because Kelo hastily responded, "Twenty minutes. Maybe, more if King Peter is hidden somewhere."

Edmund nodded. As much as it killed Edmund to have to wait any longer, he knew it was the smartest strategic move. In any other circumstances, he would be following that way of thinking. But this was about rescuing Peter, and that made most logical thinking fly right away from him in the luckiest of cases.

He beckoned for his bird scouts, and they fluttered over to him. He held Ari, Uven, and Sunny, in his palms. They all shifted nervously in his hands.

He whispered gently, "I know that it is frightening to go in there. But I need you to find my brother for me. He needs us to help him."

Sunny nodded his little head, saying, "My King, it is our honor to serve both you and the High King. We will find him." The three birds all bowed before took off in flight towards the castle.

The three scouts returned in ten minutes, and by their expressions, Edmund dreaded the news they brought.

Ari landed on Edmund's outstretched hand. Sunny and Uven landed on his shoulders. Ari did a small bow before Edmund asked, "My good cousins, what did you find?"

"King Edmund, there are scarcely twenty of the Witch's followers, and the White Witch is in her throne room with them." Ari ruffled her wings, seeming nervous to share more. Twenty to Edmund's seventeen. Those were not favorable odds for him. But that was hardly on Edmund's mind for long.

Anxiously, Edmund almost whispered, "What of Peter?" His voice stripped off formalities.

"Your majesty," Sunny started in a sad voice. For a moment, Edmund felt his heart skip a beat, fearing the worst.

Uven did not meet his eyes, but said, "Your Majesty, King Peter was in the throne room with the White Witch." All three of his scouts seemed almost distraught. "She was—" Uven stopped.

Ari finished his words, speaking as gently as she could, "She was abusing our High King, your majesty."

"It was truly terrible," Sunny agreed softly.

Edmund's stomach dropped, and tears pressed behind his eyes. He wanted to know what exactly was happening to Peter, but was scared to truly know.

"Are they still in the throne room now?" Was all Edmund managed to ask.

"Yes, sire, they were," Ari answered.

"Thank you for flying in there," Edmund whispered to the three of them. "Sunny remain outside the castle, and if we do not return within the hour, fly to Queen Susan."

"Understood, King Edmund," Sunny said as he hopped off Edmund's shoulder. Edmund quickly instructed Ari and Uven to rest until they entered the castle.

Peter is in the throne room. Edmund remembered the unkind iced walls. He remembered how cold they were. He still remembered the way the White Witch had nearly killed him in there. He took a steadying breath.

"My good sirs," Edmund began. All eyes locked onto him. "Our High King is in danger. He is trapped inside the White Witch's castle with the White Witch herself standing guard." Edmund's voice trembled at the last part. If his soldiers noticed it, they made no indication to it otherwise. "Our priority is to safely rescue our King. We will cut through the courtyard and head through the front gates. Our High King is with the White Witch now, and we will not let her harm him any further."

Edmund looked around, seeing his trusted soldiers prepared and ready to face the threats that lied ahead. To face the White Witch once more.

With Peter in mind, Edmund and Phillip led the charge down the slope to the castle.