I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. I just melt every time I read anything about them.

Author's Note: 30,000 word mark, so I'm due for another note! Again, a huge thank-you to all you lovely reviewers. You really have no idea how much it means to me, especially when you take the time to write out just what it is you like or don't like about it. To all you who are having cardiac arrests 'cause of the whole Peter and Susan deal, just hold your horses and I'll get there eventually. Patience is a virtue. Just ask Tumnus, he waited over 100 years for Aslan to show up. Anyway. Off you go, let me know what you think, I'll try my best to keep up the breakneck pace I've been updating at.


They caught up with the dwarf at a larger tributary of the Cappis river, a fast-flowing stream too wide and deep for the thief to cross quickly. As they burst from the trees he whirled around with a look of grim resignation and tugged Rhindon from his belt, holding it before him with considerable effort.

"Not a step closer," he barked. Lucy slowed but did not stop, unsure of how well her opponent could a weapon so heavy for him. In contrast, Edmund did not even slow his pace but drew his sword immediately and charged the little man with a yell. The dwarf clumsily parried. Edmund swung his blade again and this time the dwarf was not quick enough; the sword stung his arm and he dropped Rhindon, yelping in pain. Instantly, Lucy was there by their feet, retrieving the stolen weapon and pulling it away from the greedy clutches of the dwarf.

He growled angrily, one hand on his injured arm, looking from Lucy to Edmund and back again, seeming to be making some sort of a decision. Edmund sheathed his sword once he saw that Lucy had a firm grasp on Rhindon and gazed crossly down at the dwarf.

"There you have it, thief," he said. "Justice."

And Lucy would have been filled with pride at that moment if the dwarf had not launched himself at her brother, wrapping his hands around his neck and hurling him to the ground with more strength than she thought possible. Edmund cried out in fear and pain as the dwarf dragged him towards the stream and plunged his head into the water. He held it there with a foot while the young king struggled to breathe, his body jerking uncontrollably with his head beneath the surface.

"The sword, lass!" he roared at Lucy, pointing to Rhindon. "The sword or your brother, what'll it be?"

Lucy stood frozen to the ground. Of course she valued Edmund over the weapon, but it seemed so…so important to have it, a sign that their brother would return to them…if there was a way to keep it without harming Edmund…

She hefted Peter's sword experimentally. It was heavy but she could lift it, and she did so, holding it before her as if to give it to the dwarf. When the little man stepped forward to take it she instead swung it with all her strength. It bounced off his mail tunic and he gave a cruel laugh, digging his foot further into Edmund's neck, forcing his head further under. The boy's struggles were growing feebler and bubbles were rising from the water. Lucy realized he was drowning. And that, more than anything, was the reason she did what she did next.

With a furious yell, Lucy cast aside Rhindon for her dagger and leapt forward, burying it in the dwarf's chest. His eyes opened wide in shock before they rolled back up in his head and he crashed back into the river, where the current peeled him from the banks and pushed him away. Lucy threw herself down on her knees beside Edmund, who had stopped moving entirely. With her heart in her throat she seized him by the shoulders and hauled him from the water.

He was deathly pale, every freckle stark against his dripping, white face. His eyes were closed as if in sleep but Lucy could tell immediately that he wasn't breathing. Frantically, she rolled him onto his back and pushed hard upon his stomach, horrified at the amount of water that issued from his mouth when she did so. After three or four tries, he began to cough weakly. She bent to repeat her motion but he caught her hand and rolled on his side, hacking up stream water. Lucy hovered anxiously by his side, rubbing his back even though she knew he couldn't feel it through the chain mail. Finally, Edmund shuddered feebly and slumped on his side, his breathing labored and his face still colorless.

Lucy came around in front of him, watching her brother worriedly. A long moment passed. At last, his dark lashes lifted from his cheeks and he looked out at her with dulled eyes, a frail but grateful half-grin on his face.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely, and coughed more. When the fit subsided he gingerly propped himself up on his elbows and looked around. His gaze darkened. "Rhindon?"

"Here," she said. She reached over and pulled the heavy weapon towards them. As swords went, it actually wasn't very heavy, and she was more than capable of carrying it, but lifting and wielding it was another matter. Lucy felt a random surge of admiration for Peter.

"Good," murmured Edmund. He took it from her and attempted to stand on his own, but at the last second he fell to one side. Lucy stood rapidly and caught him halfway down. He wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulders and leaned on her appreciatively, offering her a weak smile.

"Where to?" Lucy asked.

"Anywhere but here," he replied humorlessly. They moved on, Edmund half-draped on Lucy's shoulders, Lucy bearing both his weight and carrying Rhindon with her dagger pushed into her belt. This time they did not speak as they pushed their way through the underbrush, because the elder was still suffering coughing fits frequently while the younger was putting all her effort into supporting her brother and staying upright.

They traveled aimlessly for several hours. Often they were forced to rest, sometimes because Edmund would have a particularly bad spasm and have to sit until it passed, sometimes because Lucy simply couldn't carry the extra burden for the long amounts of time through the rough terrain. When the sun began to graze the treetops and the light grew dimmer, they began looking for a place more sheltered from the cool wind. A grassy knoll with sharp rock outcroppings provided this. They staggered towards it, finally collapsing beneath the shelter of the rocks.

Edmund slid his arm off Lucy's shoulder and carefully half-sat, half-fell on the soft grass. He was looking marginally better than he had earlier that day; the color had returned to his cheeks and he was breathing more normally. His sister watched him for a moment, making sure he was all right, then lay Peter's sword down at his side and hurried away, calling over her shoulder,

"I'll go and find us some dinner."

Lucy heard his protests change to hopeless warnings about not wandering off as she headed off in search of food. The woods were rapidly growing darker around her. Picking her way through the undergrowth, she caught a glimpse of a fruit-bearing tree not far off and made her way towards it, noting that the strange fruits looked and smelled ripe although she had never seen them before. She plucked several from the trees and carried them in her skirt (this was made difficult by the mail that lay over it). A few minutes later she was back at their resting place.

She dropped to the ground wearily, rolling her prizes out from her dress and presenting Edmund with a few. He picked one up, sniffed at it experimentally and gave her a quizzical look.

"What is this?" he asked. She shrugged.

"It's better than nothing." And this was true, so she polished one on her sleeve and took an experimental bite. The fruit, which was the color of a plum but fuzzy like a peach and larger than either one, tasted tangy and slightly bitter but was good enough for their hungry mouths. The siblings finished it hungrily, still wanting for something more substantial, but night was approaching fast and they had to rest. Even at that moment, they knew the other half of their family could be in grave danger.

Lucy lay down next to Edmund under the rocks and shivered faintly. Noting this, he drew a protective arm around her and they huddled close together for warmth, breath frosting in the chilly air. It seemed so long ago that they stood on the deck of their little ship, drenched in sunlight, away from the cold northern wind and the dangers that had come with it. Pushing her face into the crook of her brother's neck, Lucy drew her cloak tight about herself and wished fervently that tomorrow would be the day they found Peter and Susan.

"Good night, Lucy," Edmund said softly, hugging her securely to his chest. She could feel his voice resonating in his throat because her forehead was pressed there.

"Good night, Ed," she mumbled hazily, before drifting into a troubled sleep. In the deepening darkness, her brother lay for a longer time until he at least succumbed to his drowsiness, too. The forest, silent and (seemingly) lifeless, would watch overits King and Queen until they awoke the next morning.