Honey, I Released the Fangirls

A/N: Hey, it's the author! Thanks to all who reviewed! Luckily, you met my quota, so here I am with another chapter. This one has a lot of dry humor, I think. Quick warning: There's some whumpage in this chapter! YAY!

Disclaimer: Although I don't own them, I can pretty much do whatever I want with them! I DO own characters of my own design, which is why they are of MY DESIGN! DON'T STEAL THEM!

Quick recap, simply because it picks up immediately after chapter seven: Peter has gone off to fight a witch, Emulun, all by his onesie, 'cause Edmund's very ill and Tumnus is unconscious. The fangirls escaped, and are now following him.

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Chapter Eight: Peter Needs Help!

At first, none of the girls complained about walking so far. After all, they were far from their tiny prison! But soon, their feet began to hurt. The pain spread up their legs, up their torsos, all the way up to their heads. Then, the pounding numbness came. It became a battle to just pick up one foot and put it in front of the other.

Then, the girls began to complain. "My feet hurt."

"I'm tired."

"Are we there yet?"

They talked to no one in particular, not even each other, because none of them were mature enough to act as a responsible person worth complaining to.

Actually, it was a stroke of luck that no one was there with them, because they would have been long dead if someone was, killed to give the sufferer some peace.

Finally, Ray flopped down. "I'm not going any further!" Mia and Sarah collapsed next to her.

"Me neither."

The girls didn't even eat anything before falling asleep from exhaustion, completely forgetting why they were walking in the first place, their thoughts turning completely to their dreams.

Mia dreamed of a bus ride (an idea that thrilled her- she'd never been on a bus), and she was on the bus, half-singing half-screaming 'Homeward Bound' by Simon and Garfunkle (another idea that excited her- she was never allowed to half-sing half-scream anything in public, not even on the weekly trips to the library as a reward for good behavior, a trip she went on about six times a year, simply because she never had good behavior).

Sarah dreamed of writing stories with long, run-on sentences, and not getting corrected, or getting writer's block.

It's a mystery what Ray dreamed about, but one can get a vague idea from what she was saying as she tossed and turned: "Protect the cheesecakes! Protect them!"

All in all, they slept well. But the same night, coincidentally, someone did not sleep quite as well…

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Amazingly enough, it was Peter who heard them first. A branch snapping (actually, exploding with a BOOM!) was probably what caught his attention, and the trolls barreling out of the trees might have given it away. But, be it the obviousness of the situation or Peter's super-sharp skills, he was alerted.

He called for his troops, and a battle ensued. It was amazingly difficult. The trolls had somehow gotten a battle strategy pounded through their thick skulls, and many sentient beings on Peter's side (we'll call them 'Team Blue' for the sake of recognition) were rendered non-viable. To put it harshly, they were dead.

But, to use an age-old expression, or just one that has seen a century or two, for every Team Blue warrior who was killed, two beings from Team Red (the witch's army) were also killed. (Alright, I admit it, I tweaked it a bit) Unfortunately for Team Blue, the members of Team Red seemed quite numerous. (Translation: there were a lot of trolls!)

I'm not going to deny it, both sides fought valiantly. There was a great deal of head bashing, sword swinging, and cries of both pain and anger at comrades being in pain. There was mud and blood and general chaos.

But… the trolls were still relatively new at this whole 'battle strategy' idea, and, consequently, began to fall out of line, making it easier for the member of Blue Team (whose name was reversed so that recognition would be more immediate) to send the Red Team member's (whose name was also reversed for the same reason) to the grave, be it an individual grave or the more likely mass grave. Or the pyre. Probably, in this situation, the pyre. It's easier to burn the dead. (Not that I'd know!)

But anyway, when the last troll was felled by a small faun named Guiny, (who, I'd like to say, yelled "Finally!" when he saw there were no more visible, viable members of Red Team. Unfortunately, this story is not about Guiny, who says some other hilarious things later.)

ANYWAY, with Red Team's members all having either gained their senses and running away as fast as they could, or being killed, the still-living members of Blue Team, being incredibly selfish, searched for mildly wounded, moderately wounded, or gravely wounded yet still alive members of their own teams. That was when they made a disheartening discovery among the members of the gravely wounded, a.k.a. the grievously injured.

Throm, the second in command, was the lucky one who found out first. He froze for a second, the acted, proving his amazing reflex skills.

He scooped up the being, who, it should be recorded, was dribbling the red liquid called blood that is rather necessary for life from certain places, and in other places there were mini-Niagara Falls of blood pouring from the being's body.

Carrying him (the being was male, although that would have been rather difficult to verify in the being's current state) away from the scene of the battle, Throm cried at the top of his lungs ,(an odd phrase that may or may not be discussed later in this chapter, or in other chapters,) "KING PETER IS WOUNDED! OUR KING IS WOUNDED!"

Indeed, it was true. Valiant King Peter, who looked SO good on a horse, in armor but without a helmet, and in various other situations, was this barely recognizable being that was quickly loosing blood, a condition that had rendered many before him non-viable, and would still long after his death (which may or may not have been from blood loss).

While medics worked tirelessly over the High King's limp body, causing the death of many, non-titled yet not any less important members of the defense force, the fangirls were still sleeping, not at all disturbed, mostly because they didn't know of the battle that had taken place. But they soon would…

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A/N: Sorry about all the tangents. I was on a serious sugar high when I wrote this. Did you still like it? Please review! Munchies for reviewers is a fruit basket, and it might be that way for a little bit, (I have a LOT of fruit!) but please don't let that stop you from reviewing!