Disclaimer: Don't own 'em but I lurv 'em!
A/N: Okay, I don't want y'all to wait forever, so I typed fast, so it goes fast. Just a heads up. Anyway. I NEED THOSE REVIEWS+puppy dog eyes+ Please? I know I'm very very ebil, but...+blinks+ Here you go! Warning: I am still evil.
Chapter Five: Twist of Fate
Edmund was alive.
Peter stared, wide eyed, at the very sight set before him. By some miracle, Ed was alive. He could care less how…His brother was alive.
Edmund sat at first quietly, surveying the scene below him. The Narnians were fleeing to the rocks, filling the valley below. Some glanced upward and saw the sight, their mouths opening in disbelief, but could not stop, being pushed along by the others who did not take notice. The boy, for the moment, could care less if anyone saw him or not…Except for three.
But right now, one.
Aslan had been a lion of his word- he had arrived fully dressed for war. He was garbed in finely wrought armor, his tunic a dancing gold and crimson, bearing Aslan's crest. That, of course, was a very vague description…But there are very few words for Aslan's own armor.
Once the major stream of Aslan's army had retreated back, he laid a hand on the thick, muscular neck. "Askari…?"
The stallion grinned. "When you are ready."
Edmund took in a deep breath. He had known this moment would come…But now his doubts were nagging at him. He growled. 'No; Aslan told me I would be fine.'
A streak of white caught his attention, and he glanced down, alarmed slightly-
And then all at once his view faded.
All except those china blue eyes.
---
Lucy sat quietly in her tent, fumbling with her cordial bottle. The guards outside her tent had been little comfort to her- she felt she needed to be with Susan and Peter, at the Battle. 'I could help! I've got a dagger,' she thought haughtily, but she hadn't protested to Peter. He had looked tired enough, and since she was a modest girl, she had quietly agreed.
But now, the two fauns standing next to the flap of her tent were having a puzzlement of their own. Rerian, one of the fauns, shifted suddenly, his cloven hooves skittering silently on the grassy turf. His partner gave him an alarmed look, to which Rerian whispered in explanation, "I thought I just saw something- just over that hill near that old oak closest to the far tent."
Lucy, of course, overheard this, to which she stopped muddling with her healing drought to listen. But when she heard the soft scratch of swords being drawn, she stifled a gasp. Cautiously, she eyed the closed entrance to her tent before gently setting the bottle noiselessly on the ground, her now empty hand closing around the hilt of her dagger.
Rerian peered anxiously at the spot where the movement had been exposed, his grip on his weapon tightening. But the unsettled fauns had nothing to worry over.
"Aslan!" Rerian cried as the lion emerged from beyond the hill near that old oak closest to the far tent. Lucy's fears disappeared all at once, and with a cry of relief, she leapt from her cot and ran from the tent, colliding with Aslan's thick, warm mane.
"Aslan!" she cried happily, joyous that the lion was alright- and back.
The Lion shook his mane and laughed quietly. Lucy drew back, looking at him with wide, serious eyes. "You simply must hurry to the Battle, Aslan!"
Aslan gave her a soft look. "Now is not my time."
Lucy displayed a look of turmoil. "They need you, Aslan!"
"I have placed someone in my position for the time being," he replied curtly. "But now, we must hurry! Peter will need all the troops he can get. Please, Daughter of Eve, would you accompany me?"
"You know I will, Aslan," she assured him, but with a questioning look, she added quizzically, "But who is take-"
"No time! Go, gather your cordial and dagger, and I shall explain along the way." Lucy, though unsatisfied, turned and rushed back to her tent. Carefully, though quickly, she clasped her cordial and dagger back upon her belt. She returned to the lion just in time to hear him address the fauns- "You have been dismissed to your original duties."
The fauns nodded before turning heel back towards the battle fields, their hooves carrying them swiftly out of sight.
Aslan turned to Lucy. "Now, if you would, you must ride upon me. We have a long journey and little time to get there."
Once the girl was atop the Lion's regal back and they had set off at a fast 'gallop', she pressed Aslan. "Aslan, please- who is taking your place at the battle?"
Aslan smiled, and after a moment, told her.
---
The dark browns locked with the hauntingly blue.
And all in a rush, the battle rippled into view. Peter, his gaze still upon his brother, had kicked his unicorn forward in a fierce gallop- he had begun to fall behind. Edmund set his teeth, then finally murmured, "Then let us run forth."
Askari grinned, releasing a sharp, deep war cry, kicking his front feet from the earth into a steep rear.
---
The Witch sharply looked up at the sound- she had not heard such in her lifetime. But it did not take long for the icy stare to fall upon the figure up on the valley, and her mouth parted in a silent gasp once she realized whom it was. The Traitor was alive.
She gritted her teeth, her grip on her wand tightening dangerously, but otherwise remained silent. Her lips slowly curved into a malicious smirk- she had killed him once…She would kill him again.
---
Askari leapt from the edge, spreading his wings slightly to dive down to the path of the valley. The moment his hooves touched the earth, the stallion kicked into a gallop, running alongside a milky white unicorn.
Riders turned towards each other, their eyes locked. Peter's face was one of utter alarm and joy, though he could not speak through the knot in his throat. Edmund seemed to understand, and offered a small smile.
But it turned into one of shock and horror. "Peter, look out!" he yelled; but he had been too late. Moments after Askari had alit from the top of the valley, Ginnarbrik had taken the steed's place, his bowstring taunt, releasing an arrow at Peter's unicorn. The horse stumbled as he was wounded, Peter sure to follow.
Edmund grabbed Peter's hand, pulling him onto the ebon pegasus just as the unicorn collapsed. Askari skidded to a halt, determined to make sure the fallen steed was alright. The two whinnied at each other for a moment, then the white horse scrambled to his feet and fled. Askari turned heel at this, taking of once more at gallop, his wings pressed tightly to his sides.
"He said he would be fine, but he is in no condition to fight," the horse puffed as he ran; a bit more apologetically, he added, "But I'm afraid you've lost your own steed this battle, your Highness."
Peter, clutching his brother's sides, was drawn back to reality. "Oh…it's alright," he stammered, blinking back his tears. Edmund turned, smiling sheepishly at him; even so, his eyes were shining with tears.
A small smile curved on Peter's face, a spluttering laugh escaping his lips, tears finally tumbling from his sparkling blue eyes. Edmund gave a playful groan. "Stop, or else you'll make me start."
Peter sniffed, wrapping his arms around his brother, burying his face in Edmund's shoulder. "I...I thought...how?" was all he could manage, his voice muffled.
"I'll explain after the battle," Edmund promised, dashing at his eyes. "But what I can say, is that I was sent back for a reason, Peter." Peter released his embrace on his brother, sensing the quiet fire in his voice. Edmund glanced back at the pursuing army, his face contorted. "This is why I was sent back."
Askari squealed suddenly, and both boys braced themselves for the horse's sharp rear and bolt. A boggle had managed to catch up, it's club raised, only missing the pegasus' hindquarters. The younger managed to grab a tuftful of mane, turning Askari so he faced his opponent, who had finally realized he had missed his target, and was preparing to release another blow. The creature never made his attack- With a cry, Edmund raised his sword, sending it down upon his foe, ending its life with a squeal.
Edmund did not falter, only urging Askari on. Peter's clench on his own sword tightened- now was not the time for a celebration. Had that beast brought down the horse, they would have been sure to follow...He shuddered. No, now was not the time to reflect the 'what if's'...
Askari, though he was a fast, sure footed steed, he was also tiring. Edmund sighed raggedly, but nonetheless, he brought the ebon stallion up. He knew an exhausted steed was not one suitable to ride, both for he and his brother and for the horse himself. Askari eyed him warily, but skidded to a stop with a snort, turning on his heels to face the Army already upon the Narnians.
The brothers both drew deep breaths of anxiety, glancing at each other once more...Then, tightening their grip upon the shining hilts of their swords; they let the enemy pour forth, weapons raised.
----
Lucy rushed through the Courtyard, a strange sort of emptiness running through her...She shivered, blinking at the looming, staring statues. It scared her almost; these 'statues' were once real, living souls, now forever trapped within the stony grey slabs. The Witch had been in rule for about one hundred years...Could there be some that had remained a frozen prisoner for decades? A tingle ran up her spine at the thought.
A small gasp of turmoil escaped her open lips as she turned from behind a rearing centaur, drinking in a new, devastating sight.
A small faun stood, his eyes wide terrified, staring up at an invisible enemy, hands raised in a meek attempt to shield himself from a frightful attack, his small mouth open in a silent cry. The girl felt her eyes quickly fill with tears; she knew this faun. He had, though it seemed so long ago, been her first friend in Narnia.
"Oh, Aslan, it's too bad!" she cried as she stared at the lifeless, though so detailed it might have passed as a living being, form of Mr. Tumnus. The Lion did not answer, but silently padded on soft paws towards the statue, pausing feet from it, mouth agape. Lucy stared, confused, watching as a warm, invisible Lion's breath fell and swirled over the formation.
Then it was silent, save the small sniffs from the sorrow-struck girl.
But it was not silent for long. And Lucy witnessed the power of Aslan.
A small gasp, followed by a spluttering cough, came from the statue. Curious, Lucy continued to watch; warm color slowly began to replace the hostile grayness of the stone, spreading from his small, curled horns poking from his hair down to his prized, cloven hooves. With another gasp, Mr. Tumnus, who was now very much alive, stumbled forward, only to be caught by Lucy.
And no sooner, the two were dancing round and round, clasping each other's hands, laughing joyously, occasionally pausing to watch Aslan perform the same miracle as he had upon Tumnus. Soon, the quite, solemn Courtyard was buzzing with talking, laughing, braying, whinnying, pawing, snorting, bleating voices as the room filled with life.
Once every corner and every room had been stolen of their stone prisoners, the party filed round the closed gate, which Aslan had leapt over. The issue was brushed aside as a Giant's club smashed the iron bars open, and after a few moments of situation and arrangements, Lucy was once more upon Aslan's back, racing towards the battle.
A light fluttering feeling entered her stomach, causing her to laugh quietly.
She was going to see her brothers.
---
Though the boys fought hard and mercilessly, they found themselves slowly being pushed further and further back by the Witch's army. It seemed that, as soon as they had felled one beast, another would jump to take its place. Both were slowly beginning to tire beneath their, now what seemed very heavy, armor. But they weren't giving up yet…not yet…
Edmund swung his sword down, crushing the skull of an unfortunate goblin, releasing a heavy sigh of relief when another did not leap forward. He took the precious second to glance around at their progress-
Then stopped short.
Statues- those cursed things- were quickly beginning to cover the valley. His mouth parted slightly in a scowl- this was why they were falling behind. One by one, poor Narnians were being frozen in stone…His gaze traced further down, until it stopped, a flame leaping within him.
The Witch let her wand plunge down upon a small satyr, who released a shriek of terror as he watched it descend- and in a moment it was silent. Jadis sneered, leaving the creature before turning towards a centaur-
A sharp cry of shock escaped Edmund, mixing with the squeal of Askari as the pegasus crashed upon the ground, sending both Edmund and Peter to the ground. A minotaur loomed over Edmund, club raised, releasing a deep below as the creature let it fall. With a yelp, Edmund scrambled out of the way and to his feet, whirling round to let his sword embed itself in the beast's head.
The boy was forced to turn again, just managing to deflect a werewolf's lunge, before another creature was upon him. After minute's struggle, he killed the thing, letting his eyes search for both his brother and his steed.
Neither were in sight. The flow of the battle had swept them apart.
Cursing terribly, Edmund fought off an enemy before taking off. He had to find Peter…He was determined to protect his older brother. For once, he knew it was his stand- if this was his last day, he would live it for Peter. Peter had his life…Edmund had already lived his.
Relief washed through the boy- a shimmer of crimson and gold fell into view. Peter was alive, though he was being forced to fend off two minotaurs…And it was obvious that he was tiring. Edmund began to descend the cliff he stood on-
A small flash of light caught his eye. There was the Witch…Only just below him, having just turned a poor gryphon to stone.
A stab of horror ran through him as he realized whom she had focused upon.
Peter had his back turned; he had managed to fell one of his attackers, now in a heated battle between the remaining…He had no idea that Jadis was advancing upon him.
His terror was replaced with grave anger- Aslan's words swam through his mind- "If you should die in the hour of war, and should you prove yourself, you will die with honor and forgiveness."
And in that moment, he made up his mind- releasing a deep breath, he tightened the grip on his sword; then, with a deep cry, he leapt from the ledge, weapon upraised.
A look of shock flit through the Witch's eyes, but just as quickly, it was replaced with smug contentment. With a quick, fluid movement, she retracted her wand, moving it just out of the path of the boy's sword. Edmund did not waste time; he whirled round, deflecting her attack, and once more raised his sword, its edge glinting in the sunlight-
His anger was released- with all his strength, he forced his weapon upon her wand.
A sharp burst of blue light filled his vision as shards of her broken wand scattered across the ground. Stunned, Edmund paused, letting his gaze, filled with grim triumph, meet hers.
The Witch let her sneer fade, subconsciously replacing it with a livid scowl. Before the youth could react, she had clashed her sword with his, knocking it from his grip-
A soundless cry tore from open lips as he doubled over, aware of an icy, searing pain entering his stomach. His face contorted in agony, his sight flickering in shock as the Witch drew back her severed wand, its end now covered in warm, crimson blood.
His blood.
Edmund had many regrets in his life; this was not one of them. He had broken her wand, cutting her flow of magic, ending her reign of freezing innocent souls…
A small, whispering breath escaped his lips as he fell, crumpling upon the blood stained battlefields…He had done all he could. It was now up to Peter to fend for himself. The sounds of the battle had left him, too blinded by pain to rely further upon his senses…Edmund slowly began to die upon the ground, suffering…
Honor and forgiveness….he had been given his honor and forgiveness.
A/N: Sigh...More cliffies... Anyway, I hope you review...Please please please review- no flames please, though.
