I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies. I just happen to randomly know that as of half an hour ago, there's forty-one days left until the DVD release. Ho hum...


She awoke to a slightly colder world (no Susan), but as soon as she saw that her siblings had simply woke up earlier, it didn't bother her. Scrambling to her feet, she half-ran, half-stumbled to throw her arms around a very startled Edmund, who yelped, tripped over his own feet and toppled to the ground with his little sister clinging doggedly to his neck.

"What was that for?" he spluttered, when finally she let go.

"For being my brother," she said with a grin. For being alive.

"Batty," said Edmund, tapping his head. "Quite batty." But he grinned at her anyway.

The party ate breakfast, a casual affair of leftovers, and prepared to move out. Susan somewhat reluctantly donned her chain mail again. Back at the army camp, Lucy had been given a red outer-tunic to wear, much like Peter and Edmund's, because with the Narnian army out it was important to have something that immediately identified her as a friend. Now Susan, too, was presented with one; she also received her bow and quiver which the centaur had been carrying. The horn she had had all along.

"Why didn't you ever use it?" asked Lucy, as they set off.

"I didn't have the strength, and Peter didn't have the sense," Susan replied. "Or so he tells me. I wouldn't hesitate to blame it on pride though."

The eldest of the Pevensies shot her a feigned glare.

"We didn't need it in the end, did we?" he said defensively. "But enough about that. I ought to tell you what we – that's Carrul and I – have decided is the best plan for this next part of our little summer vacation."

Edmund scowled.

"If this has anything to do with sending us home and letting you stay behind and help…" he began, but Peter waved a hand dismissively.

"No, no, no," he said. "I know you lot are too stubborn for that…"

"Who's stubborn, now?"

"Ed, quiet. As I was about to say, we've sent word with the dryads to the army; I expect Oreius has arrived by now, he'll take command. My priority is with the lake. We'll be escorted to it by present company, and then there will be a group of mermaids there. They can get us into the castle, which should be dry inside. From there, we'll search it until we can find what we need to destroy, do so, and get out of there. The army will be somewhere nearby, rooting out mercenary camps, ready to offer assistance if it's needed. I don't expect we'll have much trouble. Zale can't exactly post guards underwater, can she?"

"No, but I wouldn't say it's defenseless," said Susan. "She's bound to have left some sort of protection. If the dryads are right, and she can do everything she's doing because of whatever is in that castle, you'd expect her to at least create some sort of magical defense for it."

" Point taken. But that doesn't change much, we've still got to do what we've got to do."

"How long will it take to walk there?"

"Not long. We've been moving in the right direction this whole time without knowing, so it's just about another day's march west of here."

Lucy smiled dryly. Days of walking had made her rather tired and sore, so it was nice to hear that their destination was defined and their travel time set. Of course, she didn't doubt that aside from Susan, she had the least right to complain; Edmund was still running short of breath rather frequently, and Peter limped until he thought anyone was looking at him. Both sisters wisely didn't mention either of these things. So it was under the guise that Susan needed a rest that they called a halt several hours later, and all eight of them gratefully sank to the ground to drink from their canteens and give their aching limbs a break. Lucy sat next to her sister, leaning up against her shoulder as she fiddled with the ugly but effective stitches that held her belt together. She hadn't noticed before, but someone had obviously taken the time to sew the part she'd cut through together.

They rested for a good fifteen minutes before Peter somewhat reluctantly got to his feet and told them they needed to move on. Sighing, Lucy took the hand that Thomas offered her and levered herself up off the forest floor. Susan rose beside her, which was a good thing, because a second later an arrow buried itself where she'd been sitting.

"Do you people ever stop?" she said irately, as the troop erupted into action around her. Peter swiftly drew a long dagger out of his boot and passed hilt-first to Susan; Lucy caught something about "close-range, you'll need it" and then she was drawing her own weapon and holding it before her threateningly. Out of the thick woods there came an organized column of Zale's mercenaries, the same grey cloaks drifting behind them. This time they were a mix of races. The man who marched at the front was clearly human, but he was flanked by two dwarves and a goblin, and somewhere in the back of the line Lucy thought she could see an ogre.

"All right there, your Highness?" asked Thomas, casting her a glance. He held his rapier before him, eyes coming back to rest on their advancing attackers.

"Peachy," she muttered. The sailor gave her a somewhat surprised look, not having seen this side of her before, and she was just about to apologize when the first person attacked. They were aiming for Carrul, but he had drawn his heavy broadsword already and easily deflected it. Then all was a flurry of blades and blows, which Lucy found herself somewhat detached from – Thomas was doing a fairly good job keeping the goblins that were assaulting him at bay, and kept them away from her at the same time. The second he faltered but once, though, she was in the fray. Back to back they fought, quickly taking down the goblins and moving on to help a beleaguered Renlin.

About a minute into the fight Lucy heard Peter yelling something that sounded peculiarly like "Ed, you git!" She spared a glance towards her brothers to a rather surprising sight. Edmund was standing just in front of Peter, blocking his elder brother from reaching or being reached by any of the enemy, his sword-blade flying in a blur of silver. His face was contorted in concentration but beyond it, Lucy was sure she caught the same vengeful expression he'd worn when they'd been tending to Peter's injuries back at the army camp. The elder of the two made several attempts to move past his brother and into the thick of things, but every move he made was blocked, and every time Lucy chanced a look back at them he appeared more irritated.

The matter was over very shortly; Lucy tried not to look at the bodies. Edmund promptly fell to his knees, coughing and hacking, his sword clattering to the ground. One very agitated Peter towered above him. Susan immediately glided to the High King's side, opening her mouth presumably to speak words of a calming nature, but he put up his hand, sheathing his unused sword with a loud ring. Edmund continued to wheeze.

"Edmund, you idiot!" Peter yelled. Edmund looked up to give him a glare, still coughing into the crook of his elbow. "What was that all about!"

"You're…injured," panted Ed. His body shook violently and he put out a hand to steady himself.

"I'm not made of glass!"

"Worked out…fine, didn't it?"

Lucy hurried to Edmund's side, carefully avoiding his sword as she knelt beside her choking brother. She helped him to sit up straighter and strapped the shield to his back again, one hand on his arm reassuringly. He gave her a grateful look before coughing a bit more, but soon it faded to harsh breathing. Carrul took a step forward, eyeing the battlefield rather uneasily.

"It would not be wise to stay here, your Majesty," he warned. Peter nodded distractedly, still looking down at his younger brother with an expression half exasperated, half concerned.

"Off we go, then," he said rather bitterly. He took his dagger back from Susan and knelt to help Ed to his feet. His brother, breath coming in steady but still rough gasps, shook his head.

"Not quite ready," he wheezed. Peter looked up at Carrul, who still didn't look keen to be staying around the area. The young king paused for a moment then seemed to make up his mind. He put an arm behind Edmund's back, and another under his knees; Ed seemed to guess what was about to happen a split second before it did.

"Don't you dare…" he began, but he began coughing again. Lucy, who thought it rather made sense, picked up Edmund's sword and sheathed it for him before standing herself. Peter staggered to his feet with his little brother in his arms looking murderous. When finally the younger regained his breath, he tried to bring up the arm closest to Peter and push him away, but found that it was stuck behind his older brother's neck, so instead he brought his other arm over his body and pushed against him with all his strength. Against the chain mail, it didn't do much to help.

"Stop squirming, Ed," said Peter sternly.

"You!" Edmund rasped. "I'll…I'll kill you, Peter!"

"Saves Zale the trouble of doing it, then," said Peter, glancing around at the others before setting off through the wood again. Lucy followed at a distance, torn between feeling sorry for Edmund and feeling afraid for Peter. She really didn't envy him once the younger of her brothers had both feet on the ground.

"Peter, you bastard! Let me down!"

"No. And remind me to wash your mouth out once we get to that lake."

Edmund let out a strangled scream of frustration, which turned into another bout of coughing. Lucy fell into step beside Susan, who was shaking her head despairingly. After another five minutes of walking, Thomas came up beside her, watching the still-bickering kings out of the corner of his eyes as he whispered to Lucy,

"Are they always like this?'

Lucy bit back a grin and nodded.