Silence reigned. The entrance to Aslan's tent fluttered slightly before going still. No one knew what to do. The Witch's henchmen looked around uncertainly, robbed of their purpose the second she had agreed to speak with the Lion in private. Neither side could attack, as that would mean violating the temporary truce. Finally, they all just sat down where they were standing, waiting to see what would come from the discussion between the two leaders.

Only Adeline remained standing, her father's words ringing in her ears. The time has come. Swallowing thickly, she made a split-second decision. Everyone flinched as she moved from her spot and approached the siblings. "Come with me," she said quietly, meeting Edmund's gaze before she glanced around anxiously. "Now." He did as he was told, in spite of the questioning glances they were receiving from those who were within earshot.

Confused, Edmund followed Adeline as she led him away from the camp. "I can't just leave," he protested. "The Deep Magic—"

"Is adaptable," Adeline interrupted, finally slowing down. "You shan't be dying tonight." She tugged him into a grove, thick enough to shield them from view should anyone come searching for them. Fear was written across Edmund's face, shadowed by guilt. He slumped down into the grass, wrapping his arms around his knees. Making sure that they could not be found, Adeline sat next to him, legs folded beneath her. "We will go back in time to hear their decision," she promised. "For now, you just need to listen."

A light touch on his arm made him look at his companion. She held out her silver dagger to him. He took it and was surprised to find that it was entirely made of silver. It was cool to the touch as he traced the markings in the handle. "I'm listening."

"There is a prophecy," she told him. "One that is directly tied to yours." Even after so many years, Adeline could recall with terrifying clarity the fate that had been sealed for her. She had known then that her father's bargain with the magic, with her grandfather, had been a hard one. Her conditional freedom in exchange for many lifetimes of service. "Garion told you its beginning just yesterday," she reminded him. "Silver struck, once, twice, thrice." Edmund nodded. Tears welled in Adeline's eyes, stinging and unbidden. How could she tell him what she had done? It was a heavy burden she did not wish to lay unto anyone. "Long ago, there were four others ruling Narnia," she murmured. "We were happy."

Memories of a time long since passed floated to the surface. After suppressing them for so long, it was impossible to push them back again. She saw her brothers' smiling faces, her sister's kind eyes. He loved you with all his heart. All of them did. Hatred burned in all of them in their final moments. Hatred brought by the curse that the sorceress, the Witch of Charn, had cast on them when she took the throne for herself. "My eldest brother, the Great King," Adeline managed through the tears, "my sister, the Generous Queen, and my youngest brother, the Wise King." Her emotions were choking her, making it difficult to speak. She did not want to continue, did not want to lay bare her deepest, darkest secrets to a stranger who meant nothing to her. But he was the one she needed to tell. "Great became Tyrant, Generous became Greedy," she rasped, trying to clear her throat, "Wise became Mad, and the Warrior fled."

Glancing between the dagger and the trembling girl beside him, Edmund tried to make sense of what she was telling him. What did her story have to do with him and the words Garion had spoken?

"They became something other than what they truly were," Adeline said, voice wavering, "and I did what I had to do to protect Narnia." She took the blade from Edmund, pressing its edge into her palm just hard enough to make tiny droplets of red spring forth in its path, an age-old sacrifice to the Magic. Before her eyes, the grove vanished, replaced by the image of her beloved brother as he wrote out the war declarations that would have brought Narnia to its knees. "Fabian first," she told Edmund, even as she could no longer see him. "He was the Wise King, the one meant to take care of negotiations to stop wars, but instead he started ones we could not win." A flash of silver, followed by infinite red. Once.

Edmund was horrified. He knew, without her needing to say it aloud, what she had done. The thin line in her palm was telling enough, as was the grief and regret that hung thick in Adeline's voice. He did not think he would ever be strong enough to do what she did.

"Edith next," Adeline continued, barely even breathing as the image shifted and she pressed another thin line into her palm. "The Generous Queen, the one meant to give her people whatever they needed, stole from them both money and happiness." Her mind's eye saw Edith looking into the mirror and she remembered so clearly the loathing in her sister's face. A flash of silver, followed by infinite red. Twice. But as she made the third cut, the most painful memory of all rose to the surface. She could see him as though she was still there with him. As though his final moments had yet to pass. "William last," she sobbed. "The Great King, meant to love all who loved his kingdom, hating everything in his sight." Oh, how she had tried. Tried to bring back the warmth in his gaze that so many times before had made her heart swell. Her beloved brother, who had raised her and made time for her. A flash of silver, followed by infinite red. Thrice. Adeline dropped the dagger, staring down at the blood glaring up at her, stark against her skin. Their blood. Their blood on her hands. "The deep magic is adaptable but unforgiving," she murmured, looking over at Edmund's horrified expression. "I may have saved Narnia from them but I was traitor to the throne."

Speechless, Edmund just stared at her for a while. Then the questions burned too hot to contain. "Why are you still here then," he asked. "Shouldn't you be thrown to the Witch too?" Something strangely calm and peaceful settled alongside the torment on Adeline's face. He still could not connect all the dots but he could tell that she was going to make it all clear soon enough.

"The Deep Magic saw no justice in having me executed by the Witch," she explained quietly, wiping the remnants of tears from her face with her uninjured hand, "as it was her curse that forced my betrayal." Adeline sheathed her dagger, twisting her body so she was facing Edmund properly. A flicker of recognition flew across Edmund's features. He was getting closer to the truth. "I'm fighting this war for vengeance," she told him honestly, "but I must fulfil the prophecy my father tied to us to make right my wrongs."

"And this is the prophecy you mentioned earlier, right?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

Feeling oddly light, Adeline met his eyes. "Silver struck, once, twice, thrice," she recited, "now she who hurt must pay the price." Taking Edmund's hand in her uninjured one, she intertwined their fingers. "Bound to he who broke their trust, she build a better kingdom must." Their gazes remained locked, even as they pulled their hands apart. He needed to understand, needed to know that he was safe from the Witch's if only because her own fate demanded it. "Once the four have had their turn," she finished reverently, "will she be free to home return." A slight breeze, colder than usual, broke them out of their reverie.

"You're tied to me because we both betrayed Narnia," Edmund concluded slowly, glancing at Adeline for confirmation, "and you are bound by fate, or something, to help us rule Narnia until we can't?" His companion shrugged and he had to agree with her unspoken statement. That part of her prophecy was not particularly clear. "Is that why—"

"No," she protested before he could even finish the question. "Our lessons have been based solely on the fact that I am the only one left alive who knows the old rules." Adeline frowned, standing up. Reaching a hand out to him, she helped him to his feet. They had been gone for a longer than she had expected and it was time to return to the camp. Before they left, she caught his wrist. "No matter their decision, I refuse to let them get to you," she vowed. "Any of you."

Back at the encampment, Edmund sat with his siblings while Adeline paced back and forth impatiently. He considered everything she had told him. About wanting vengeance for the curse the White Witch had cast upon her siblings. About losing her family and her kingdom. Her promise to protect his family echoed in his mind. When he had first met her, Edmund had not been convinced that Adeline meant well. Seeing her pace, anxiously glancing between him and the tent where the Witch and Aslan were negotiating, he knew that if he was going to trust anyone with anything, it would be her.

Everyone quickly got to their feet when the crimson curtains were opened and the Witch stepped out. Adeline felt nauseated. The look on her face… she had been given something far more gratifying than Edmund's life. And that scared Adeline more than she would ever admit. Jadis was a manipulative creature, who had the upper hand. There was so much she could have asked for, Adeline's life included. But she mustered a smile to the Pevensies when they embraced Edmund as her father announced that the Witch had renounced her claim. Dread weighed down her heart. Whatever the Great Lion had offered in return, it could not be something they could afford to lose. The Witch would not gain anything if it was. Rather than joining the celebrating soldiers as the False Queen left, she slipped away from the camp. She needed to come to terms with the sense that something was going to change drastically.

"Are you sure?"

"I do not think your sisters would lie about this."

Peter could not believe what he was hearing. Across from him, Edmund looked equally stunned. Aslan was dead, killed by the Witch on the Stone Table. Lucy and Susan had seen it all. "Thank you," he said, dismissing the dryad quietly, "we'll let everyone know." But how could they? The soldiers had gathered under Aslan, they were counting on him to help them win the war. Aslan and Adeline. The name was a blow to his stomach. Adeline… what would she think?

"I'll go find Oreius," Edmund offered weakly. "It's probably for the best if he… lets her know." He had seen first hand how much family meant to the Commander. To lose her father to the same monster who robbed her of her siblings would devastate her.

Sighing heavily, Peter nodded. "I'll have Argus spread the news," he said, rising, "after I check that it's not one of the Witch's tricks."

Oreius had barely even stepped into Adeline's tent before he understood that she already knew. It was barely even dawn and she was ready for battle. To his relief, she did not seem to be saddened by her father's passing; but the burning fury in her gaze worried him. "Commander—"

"I want everything and everyone ready before the sun has left the horizon." Of course, she had known. He was her father. The staggering pain in her entire being had been enough to let her know that she was alone without the whispers that had kept her from sleeping. Dryads murmuring in the night about how he had left. She had known then. But the throbbing ache in her chest, refusing to dissipate, made it all real. There was no one left from her own time.

"Adeline—"

"Is that clear?"

"Yes, Commander," Oreius murmured, "His Majesty, King Peter will be wanting our presence." He watched her stroke lightly over the peculiar dagger she always carried before she gave a resolute nod. No matter her own resolve, he worried. She had suffered a great loss, yet gave no indication that she was grieving. It was vital for all beings to grieve, lest they slowly lose their mind. For someone as incredibly dangerous as Adeline to lose all her inhibitions, all her humanity… it would be devastating.

A heavy sense of guilt settled in Edmund's chest, making him feel as though someone had placed a rock over him. Heavy enough to hurt, light enough to keep him alive. He was not oblivious to what had happened to cost Aslan his life. For the Lion to be killed just after Edmund's own life had been spared… it could not be a coincidence. Surely, Adeline would loathe him for the loss of her father? Watching her approach, a wary Oreius following behind her, made him nauseous with worry. Her face was void of emotion, a careful mask he had known to look for. "Commander…"

"Your Majesties will need to ready yourselves for the battle." She stared directly at Peter, gaze searching. He appeared lost, as though he was unsure how to proceed. Adeline shook her head. "I most certainly did not survive years of winter and struggles only for you both to stand down when the people need you the most."

Turning to her, Peter desperately hoped she was willing to accept his duty in his stead. "They listen to you, you are—"

"Their Commander," Edmund said, "but you'll have to lead us." Peter looked up at him incredulously, while a brief expression of approval flickered over Oreius' face and Adeline's stone-cold gaze softened just slightly. "The army out there may listen to her, but they're not here to follow her, they're here to follow you."

Oreius nodded. "Both of you, really," he confirmed, "though our masses trained under the Commander, they swore to serve under your leadership."

"I can't."

"Aslan believed you could," Edmund immediately interjected before his brother could continue with the woe-is-me attitude, "and so do I." He shrugged, cheeks flushing at the slight smile his brother gave him. It was a new thing for him, caring enough to fight alongside or for his siblings rather than just fighting them. The feeling it gave him was rather pleasant and he found himself hoping to be able to do it again. "We were prepared for this, with the time we had, and we owe it to the people, our people, to stand with them in the battle."

While Adeline's expression remained mostly unreadable, Oreius was proud of the little princes. He could see that though they still had a long way to go, it was a path they could only tread with experience. Who would have known Adeline would be such a positive influence on them? Though he secretly wished he could stomp his hooves happily, he knew that the battle was not far off. "The Witch's army is nearing, sire," he stated, looking to Peter. "What are your orders?"

Gaze shifting from the centaur to the maps in front of him, Peter was suddenly reminded of his lesson with Adeline. She had asked him to stay after he had finished his assignment. A strategical assignment with troops similar to their own. On a map as the one before him. In the corner of his eye, he saw the corner of her lip quirk upwards for just a fraction of a second. He knew what to do.

From their vantage point atop the rocks, Adeline and Edmund could see the Witch's army come closer. The young king shifted nervously, aware that they were at a great disadvantage. Mr. Beaver met his gaze briefly, trying in vain to convey a sort of calm. Only the Commander remained unmoved, eerily still beside him. Edmund wondered if she was feeling as unsure of their chances as he was, or if her focus lay solely on avenging her lost family. Either way, he doubted they would win, at least without massive losses on both sides of the battlefield. A hand on his arm startled him. He knew, without looking that it was Adeline. For just a moment, as Peter raised his sword, her fingers slipped between his, squeezing briefly before letting go again. Drawing his own sword, he waited. The Witch's mass was moving towards them. Soon enough, the battle would begin.

A part of Adeline wished that she had fought harder to be on the frontlines. She had agreed with Oreius that each of them would watch over one king. Oreius had reminded her that Edmund seemed to consider her a friend, to which Adeline agreed. Until she realised that Edmund would be commanding the archers from the rocks. Watching the griffins soar overhead, she wished she was out there, felling those who were not taken down by a rock dropped from the sky.

Not that she needed have worried. The Witch's forces were many, and the brief victory in using a phoenix's magnificent powers to create a wall separating her army from Peter's own soldiers was not enough. Not against Jadis. Too soon, the young king called for his army to fall back. A satisfied smile spread over Adeline's lips as the ground beneath her feet shook. The air tasted of blood. Dagger in one hand, sword in the other, she was ready. Her time had come.

Heart in his throat, Edmund watched the battle rage, signalling to the archers to fire. Beside him, Adeline was ready to strike, her leonine traits showing through. He choked on air as Peter soared through the air, his unicorn hit by an enemy arrow. Adeline whispered a heartbroken no. Oreius, accompanied by a rhinoceros, had taken up the task of defending their kind while Peter regained his bearings. They were headed straight towards the Witch. There was nothing Edmund could do to comfort his odd friend. All either of them could do was watch.

The rhinoceros fell early. Oreius fought off the minotaur Adeline recognised as one of Jadis' most trusted soldiers. Broadsword at the ready, he attacked the Witch directly. You brave fool. He narrowly missed as he took a leap over the Witch's carriage. He was never given a chance to attempt another attack. Farewell, dear friend. Fury boiled in Adeline's veins. Her patience was wearing thin. Frantically, she searched for something, anything, that allowed her to leave Edmund's side. The Witch stepped out of her carriage. She was heading for Peter. It was enough.