GREY, WEATHERED eyes. Grey.

"Winter, ice...betrayal...a ghost."

Please. Don't leave...don't leave.

Cold wind. So cold.

"No! Stop!"

The sound of Lucy's distant, troubled cry jolts me awake. Adrenaline surging, I sit up and scan the area for her. Edmund's eyes shoot open and he bolts upright, taking in our camp and the two alarmingly vacant spots around the firepit. Trumpkin and Susan are up as well, and the four of us come to the same realization at once: Peter and Lucy are gone.

Ed and I exchange worried looks before leaping to our feet and hastily throwing our weapons on. Trumpkin quickly follows suit and Susan reaches for her bow and quiver.

"I suppose they're not out looking for more firewood," she mutters, tugging on the leather straps.

Trumpkin looks grim. "Afraid not, your majesty."

"Figures." The queen throws her bag over her shoulder while I finish buckling my sword belt on faster than I ever have, trying not to let my panicked thoughts overwhelm me.

All of his things gathered, the red dwarf looks up at me. "You heard her?" He asks, well aware of my hearing capabilities.

I nod, knowing exactly which way Lucy's voice came from. "This way." And before I'm sure everyone is even ready to go, I take off into the trees. My heart is racing in my chest, anxious to find my queen and praying Peter is there to keep her from harm's way. If he's with her, she'll be alright. He can handle a sword.

I do my best not to focus on all the terrible scenarios rushing through my mind, and when I realize how fast I'm running, I instantly slow down. Thankfully, I can still hear everyone crashing through the undergrowth behind me, so I know I haven't lost any of them. Susan — who's hot on my heels — mutters something about Peter being a 'daft twit' as we sprint through a grove of birch trees, and I find myself smiling briefly in the midst of my distress.

My ears pick up noise and low voices ahead, and I check my pace, considering the possibility of an ambush or heavily armed group of Telmarines waiting for us to round that large boulder in our path. I draw my sword and slow down further, my mind working at different tactics and possibilities. Susan, however, pulls her bow from her quiver and charges right past me, disappearing behind the wall of grey stone and shouting her brother's name.

By the mane. Throwing any semblance of strategy to the wind, I hurriedly dart after her with Edmund and Trumpkin on my tail. I stumble to an immediate stop next to Susan, too shocked by the sight before me to be relieved the missing siblings are here in one piece. Dozens of Narnians armed with weapons and donned in armour fill the woods before us, looking poised for battle. Some of I've never seen before, but others look familiar — Glenstorm, Feodrius, Trufflehunter, Nikabrik, Fleetfoot, Asterius, Tyrus, Greyheart, Bultitude, Ezrik and Verdan, and even Nyssa. And their attention is entirely fixated on the two men between our groups: High King Peter and Prince Caspian, who've just finished what must have been a duel and are turned around to stare at us.

Caspian. I hold his surprised gaze, feeling relief flood my system when I find him unscathed save for a split lip he likely just received from Peter. For a moment, he looks terribly confused. Then recognition washes over his features and his dark eyes widen, glancing down at the sword in his hand — which is, for whatever reason, not his.

He lifts his gaze to the blond-haired boy in front of him. "High King Peter," he says, his voice almost disbelieving.

Much to my relief, Peter doesn't sound too pissed off. "I believe you called."

"Well, yes, but..." Caspian glances uncertainly between the Pevensies, sizing the four of them up. "I thought you'd be older."

I wish I was standing close enough to smack him. Imbecile.

Peter takes a step back as if to leave, unimpressed with the prince's response. "If you'd like," he offers sarcastically, "we could come back in a few years."

"No." Caspian insists. "No, it's alright. You're just...you're not exactly what I expected." His eyes linger on Susan, the tiniest of smirks on his face and I realize with a start that he is completely flirting and she's actually smiling back.

He hasn't even met her yet!

"Neither are you," Edmund points out from my other side, eyeballing Asterius with his giant battle-axe, knowing all too well whose side the minotaurs had fought on in the last war. Asterius grunts, his ears twitching distastefully at the comment.

"A common enemy unites even the oldest of foes," Trufflehunter declares wisely. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Trumpkin sheathe his sword, his usual frown no longer marring his face, for once.

Reepicheep scampers up to Peter, his characteristic red feather poking out from behind one ear. "We have anxiously awaited your return, my liege. Our hearts and swords are at your service." The mouse dips into a gracious bow, causing a smile to appear on the King's face.

Lucy quietly whispers to Susan how cute he is, but his attuned ears pick up her words effortlessly. Reep quickly draws his sword, brandishing the blade as he demands, "who said that?"

"Reep," I hiss urgently, trying to warn him that it's his own Queen. He whirls around to look at me and I pointedly shift my wide-eyed gaze to Lucy just as she speaks up with a shy apology.

"Oh," he says, turning to the young girl. "Uh...your majesty." He moves his sword behind his back and bows to her. "With the greatest respect, I do believe 'courageous,' 'courteous,' or 'chivalrous' might more befit a knight of Narnia."

"Well," Peter responds, "at least we know some of you can handle a blade."

I steal a glance at Caspian, whom the dig is obviously aimed at. He catches my concerned look and turns away with chagrin in his eyes. My jaw clenches angrily and I can barely conceal a glare in the High King's direction. Pompous ass.

Reepicheep sheathes his sword. "Yes, indeed. And I have recently put it to good use securing weapons for your army, sire."

"Good." Peter nods his approval and returns his attention to Caspian. "Because we're going to need every sword we can get."

Caspian holds his own beneath the king's scorn and aura of authority. "Well, then." He lifts Rhindon in offering. "You'll probably be wanting yours back."

With something akin to a glare painting his features, Peter wordlessly takes his sword and returns it to its scabbard before turning on his heel and striding past the prince. The Narnians fall into step behind their returned king, resuming their journey through the wood.

I slide my sword into its sheath roughly and hurry after Caspian before Edmund can inquire about my suddenly foul attitude. I'm about ready to explode after seeing the way his brother treated Caspian, and the last thing I want to do is upset him over something that isn't his fault.

"Hey," I mumble when Caspian looks down at me. I decide to try for some light humour. "You didn't get yourself killed."

"No." He looks straight ahead, his eyes sharp on the back of Peter's head. "What is his problem?" He demands in a low voice.

I flex my fingers on my sword hilt, grinding my jaw. "I have no idea," I grumble. "Don't expect too much magnificence from him. The Tales forgot to mention he's an arrogant child."

Caspian sighs through his nose, sharing my frustration. We both read the same stories as children and we both came to idolize the Old Kings and Queens. We spent hours reading and re-enacting all our favourite stories. For Caspian...Peter is the king he's always dreamed of being. And even though he won't admit it, I can read his disappointment in the way his shoulders fall and his eyes are cast downward. He should be at the head of the group with his head held high, leading the Narnians. He should be walking right next to the High King, not listening to me insult him.

Curse it. What am I doing?

"He is a good man," I admit, hoping to reconcile some of what I've said. "I've seen it. It just disappears beneath the hubris, sometimes. He's young. Just don't let him push you around."

Caspian nods and offers me a grateful smile. "I'm glad you are back."

I smirk. "Yeah, I bet you're glad I brought Queen Susan, too."

A grin splits his face and he glances over his shoulder at the rest of the Pevensies a few paces behind us. "I am, yes. The Tales were not wrong about her."

I shake my head at him. Boys. "Go talk to him," I say, nodding my chin toward Peter.

Caspian nods and gives me a teasing look. "We will talk about your new friend later."

I'm hardly surprised he noticed the unusual connection between me and Edmund. After all, he has known me all his life. I just roll my eyes and usher him again to go walk with Peter, silently praying the two won't kill each other before this war can even begin.

"They do not mesh well, those two."

I crane my head around when I hear Glenstorm's deep voice from behind. The centaur trots up next to me, carrying a heavy load of stolen Telmarine weapons on his dark, equine back.

"No," I agree grimly, watching the boys and listening to their talk of strategies. "Not yet." I have a feeling they will hate each other long before they realize how similar they are, and only then will they become good friends.

Glenstorm dips his head in agreement. "They will learn. It is good to see you again, Arryn. My sons will be glad to see your return."

I smile and nod respectfully to him before slowing my pace to drop back and walk with the Pevensies. Caspian must have chosen the centaur to be his general, as he's taken up the second most foremost position among the Narnian Army, directly behind the High King and Telmarine Prince.

The Narnian Army. Seeing them all — the new and old faces armed and ready to reclaim our land — makes me feel near invincible.

Edmund's shoulder brushes against mine when I return to walk next to him, and I know better than to think of it an insignificant gesture; it's a question. Are you alright?

A smile flickers across my lips and I look up at him, his features set in a stony, impassive expression; brown eyes trained straight ahead. Taking notice of my stare, a smirk forms on his face and he raises an eyebrow at me. I laugh softly and lean into his shoulder, murmuring an apology for brushing him off earlier.

"Do you happen to know where we're headed?" Susan asks, peering over at me from Edmund's other side.

"I have a good idea," I admit. "Don't worry; if I'm right, it won't be much longer."

"Thank Aslan for that," she mutters, earning laughter from Lucy who's walking behind us. Susan grins and peels away to join her younger sister, leaving me and Edmund walking side by side on the worn, leafy trail wending through the woods. We have a few peaceful moments together before the sound of two animals loping through the bushes grabs my attention. I glance behind me, my eyes landing on two, grey wolves running in our direction.

The one in front perks up. "Ryn!" He barks, bounding right up to me with his tail wagging.

The second wolf nearly trips over his brother in his rush to come say hello as well, earning himself a sharp bite that he hardly notices. "Where in Narnia have you been?"

I laugh at the complete lack of gentility. Wolves are the best. "The palace was too chaotic to leave and after we escaped, Caspian sent me to gather troops." I tilt my head toward the dark-haired boy beside me. "Then I ended up helping the Kings and Queens to cross Narnia."

"Ah," Ver muses. "Well, we missed you at the council. We near ended up tearing that little prince apart."

Ez bobs his large head. "Ness has chewed a whole tree by now she's been so worried about you."

What? I blink in shock at the two brothers, collecting my thoughts over the new information. Though, they don't give me much of a chance before launching into another conversation.

"This one of the Kings?"

"Must be," Ver agrees. "Got a right kingly sword on him."

"Yes," I answer, holding back my laughter. "So try not to be so boorish." Those two spend so much time fooling around with the pack and causing mischief they forget how to act.

I shoot Edmund a questioning glance, wondering if he'd like to introduce himself or leave me to it. He answers my silent query with a smile and inclines his head to the wolves. "I'm King Edmund the Just," he says.

"It's an honour, your highness." The two wolves bow their heads low to the ground as they walk next to us. "I'm Verdan, and my brother here is Ezrik."

Hearing his name, the wolf nods. "At your service, sire."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"Pleasure's all ours," Ver responds smoothly, shooting me a wink.

I roll my eyes at him. "Did I miss anything important?"

"Hardly."

"Magdrun got his tail chewed by that vicious feline friend of yours."

I know without having to ask who he's referring to, and I can't decide whether I should laugh or cringe. Nyssa can be quite nasty when she's in a mood. "Is he alright?"

By his rough tone and flattened ears, Ver doesn't seem happy to be reminded of it. "He's fine."

"Pride's a bit wounded," Ezrik says. "Don't bring it up around him."

"Pup," Ver growls. "He had it coming."

"It was entertaining."

Edmund and I share an amused look before I address them again. "Have either of you seen Idris?"

The brothers fall silent, their paws padding across the leaf-strewn trail the only sounds from them while they think.

"I don't recall," Verdan says at last.

Ez nods his agreement. "Eagles all look the same from down here. You could ask one of the gryphons."

I gasp excitedly. "Thrisnon is back?" One of my best friends disappeared over a month ago when the Telmarines started clearing more of the forest for their war machines and bridge project. He flew north before they could come too close for him to make a clean escape from their arrows. I've been waiting desperately to hear from him ever since.

"Sure is." The younger wolf swiftly leaps over a boulder in his path. "Flock came in under the cover of night, right before we made out for Beruna."

Flock? He must've found more of his kind hiding from the Telmarines in Ettinsmoor and the Wild North.

"Sounds like we have quite the army gathering," Edmund notes, sounding appreciative. "Any estimate on the number of troops?"

"My guess would be near a thousand, sire."

A thousand. I try so hard to keep that flame of hope in my chest burning bright. A thousand. The Telmarines have eight times that. I should have flown further. I should have searched the trees and the mountains and the rivers. I should have tried harder. I shouldn't have stopped. Why did I stop?

I feel Edmund bump his arm against my shoulder and when I look up into his fierce brown eyes, I know he's well aware of what I'm thinking. Feeling swallowed up in a maelstrom of nerves and anxiety, I cling to the boy beside me with the notes of copper and mahogany in his irises and I take a deep breath. As long as there's hope, we can do almost anything.

Those one thousand troops haven't lost their hope yet; neither will I.

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author's note

haha yikes this chapter was super difficult to end gracefully (this is the fourth variation I've tried) hence the excess of 2700 words. honestly not upset about the length, though. there are gonna be a ton of chapters if part two is gonna follow the vtd timeline, so i'm probably going to try making them longer and fewer from now on.

ten points to whoever noticed one of the narnians arryn recognizes shares the name of a four-legged pal from a certain bestselling book series lol I was running out of names and remembered how much I loved it so I borrowed it.

also in love with Ez and Verdan. I was going for the two troublesome brothers vibe but tried to keep a sense of the sort of formality the narnians possess. let me know what you guys thought and if you'd like to see more of them!

more fun facts lol (because I love them) the duel between peter and caspian was actually very difficult to film (especially lodging the sword in the tree properly) as they were acting on a hill and the crew had to stop filming and adjust the lights a lot. this location was also used in shrek! the forest donkey is seen running through to escape the knights/guards was modelled after this one.

anyways, i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!