EDMUND PEVENSIE is not as light as he looks. And flying him across Narnia and up to the highest tower of the Telmarine castle, I'm beginning to wonder if I should have accepted Thrisnon's offer and carried Susan or Trumpkin instead. At least, I remind myself optimistically, he's only wearing light armour and not his full chainmail getup.

Securing my talons around the king to ensure I don't drop him, I take a wide approach to the northernmost wall tower, banking low around the cliffside palace on silent wingbeats. My dark feathers help to keep us concealed in the night sky, though the guards on patrol aren't suspicious of an attack by the Narnians, let alone an aerial assault by flying creatures they thought to be extinct, so we don't have much of a problem flying past them.

With my enhanced vision, I watch the Telmarine posted on the north tower from a safe distance, waiting for him to turn his back before advancing. When he does, I extend my wings and glide on the cool, night air toward the tower's stairway. Edmund tenses when we draw closer and I flare my feathers to slow down, trying to remain silent as I beat my wings and carefully land us on the sloping peak. He presses his back up against the face of the stairway's roof to keep from falling and looks over as I tuck in my wings, giving me a reassuring nod.

The clicking sounds of my talons against the tiles make me cringe, and when I hear the cautious bootsteps of the approaching guard I leap from my perch, spreading my wings to cut a sharp turn and tackle him beneath my weight. The guard crumples, a sickening crack reaching my ears as his helmet flies off and his head hits the stone beneath him before he can cry out. With his face uncovered, I recognize him as Rizalo.

Edmund slides off the peak roof of the stairway and lands next to me. "Nice one," he breathes, bending down to press his fingers to the man's neck. "He's alive." The king straightens, grinning at me as he pulls the torch from his belt. "I'll signal the others," he says, heading to the tower battlements.

I study Rizalo's face carefully, sculpting mine after his as I shift into my human form, this time modelling my whole appearance after the unconscious Telmarine. Being mindful of his now-broken arm — courtesy of my tackle — I quickly unbuckle all his armour and throw it off along with his clothes, leaving him only in his cotton undergarments. It's hardly my first time knocking a guard unconscious and parading around in his uniform, so it doesn't take me long, especially with the freezing air as encouragement.

"Rope," I order, testing out my imitation of Rizalo's voice. Not bad.

Edmund turns around from watching Caspian, Peter, Susan and Trumpkin fly in and visibly flinches at my appearance. "Bloody hell," he exclaims, brown eyes wide as he looks me up and down. "That's...uh..." he clears his throat uneasily, "...really convincing."

I can't help but laugh quietly at his alarm. "Good."

A little unnerved, he hands over the rope and we get to work binding the guard's unconscious form. It doesn't feel right to kill him while he's knocked out and can't defend himself, and Rizalo himself isn't a terrible person. He could've been nicer to me when I was a servant, of course, but he's hardly the worst of the men in this castle. And perhaps it's foolish to leave a Telmarine soldier alive, but with his arm now broken and a fresh head injury, I'm positive I've made him unfit for any upcoming battles. One less soldier on the battlefield either way.

Once he's restrained, Edmund and I wish each other luck before he practically throws me down the tower stairway, severely uncomfortable with my spot-on Telmarine guard impersonation. I'd stay to laugh and tease him about if I didn't have my own mission to accomplish before the rest of the war party arrives.

I slip down the north tower's stairway with a bored expression on my face, nodding a greeting to any soldiers I pass on the way to the guardhouse. With my experience in spying amongst the castle guards, I know most of the men on patrol quite well and recognize exactly how to act around each of them without arousing suspicion.

My pace is slow but purposeful and my eyes are trained straight ahead as I march down the corridors. By now, Glenstorm will be positioned outside the citadel with the troops; Reepicheep and his mice should have the gatehouse secured for Trumpkin to lower the drawbridge; Miraz should soon be dead or comfortably locked up in the dungeons; Caspian will raise the gate shortly and Peter will give Edmund the word to signal the attack. It'll work.

I reach the guardhouse and head straight past the open-doored barracks to the armoury. I glance around to make sure it's deserted and quietly draw my sword. In the center of the room, a full weapons stand of crossbows and halberds sits untouched. Along the walls rest a lineup of spears, swords, shields, and spare leathers. Quietly, I draw Rizalo's sword and begin cutting — one by one — the strings of the crossbows. My heart is hammering in my chest and I can feel myself sweating beneath the heavy Telmarine armour, worried one of the men is going to wake up and catch me sabotaging the weapons. It's going to work, I chant silently, trying to calm my nerves while I work. Everything is going the way it should.

The alarm bells sound, ringing loudly throughout the entire castle and instantly waking the sleeping guards six minutes too soon. Too soon. It's too soon! What are they doing!?

The men start shouting and rolling out of bed and I act quickly on my feet before it's too late. I hurry to the barracks entrance and grasp the nearest weapons stand, putting all my weight into it so it topples over, spilling spears across the stone floor in a deafening cacophony. I push the wooden stand across the floor to block the doorway while the soldiers on the other side start yelling profanities and insults over the alarm bell, shoving at the poor barricade I've created.

"Rizalo!" They cry angrily. I drop another stand of spears in front of them before they manage to get through the first one, turning to upend the row of crossbows and halberds as well.

"Traitorous bastard!"

With one last glance at the angry Telmarines struggling with the barrier, I reveal my identity to them, saving Rizalo the blame and grabbing a second sword as I run from the armoury. My feet carry me through the corridors and outside into the empty courtyard where the alarm bells are even louder and more mocking than they were inside. Hearing Peter's voice, I sprint faster toward the gate, my heart feeling like it's going to explode in my chest. No no no no the army should already be here! The gate should be open!

But the army is nowhere in sight and Peter and Susan and Caspian are struggling to lift the portcullis and everything is going wrong.

Susan turns her head around and releases the windlass, reaching behind her for an arrow, her deadly gaze zeroed in on me. Wait–

"Wait!" I yell, but her arrow is already flying. Adrenaline kicking in, I sidestep and lift one sword to knock the arrow from its path. By the mane–!

I rip the stupid Telmarine helmet off, revealing my face. "Susan, it's me!"

Her face falls and she lowers her bow before she can release the second arrow already nocked and ready. "Sorry!" She shouts, returning to helping the boys. Past the iron portcullis, the drawbridge is being lowered.

It's still up!? What in Aslan's name is going on!?

I run toward them. "Caspian! Peter! You have to call it off!"

Neither of them seem to hear me. Angry shouts are coming from the guardhouse across the courtyard and I'm sure they've gotten through my barricade by now. "This isn't going to work!" I yell. "Please! Call it off!"

Susan manages an apologetic look over her shoulder while busy cranking the windlass. And I know without anyone saying that they've already tried. Peter won't call it off.

I grit my teeth, staring at the back of that imbecilic, blond king's head. I am going to kill him.

A door across the courtyard slams open and armed guards start pouring out holding shields and weapons and burning torches, screaming angry words and battle cries. I brandish my swords, finding myself grateful for the opportunity to vent my rage into something. Screaming my own battle cry, I charge the oncoming wave of Telmarines. And though I'm clad in their uniforms and wield their weapons, they recognize me from the armoury and don't hesitate to attack. And this time, neither do I.

I cut down the first soldier with an easy, upward arc of my blade. The second one comes at me with a shield, but I knock it away and use my other sword to slash across his throat. Both of them drop to the cobblestone and I rush the next, parrying his blade without a thought and sinking my sword into his gut. He falls and then two more are upon me, shouting with raised weapons. A quick backstep and I duck under their swinging arm, lifting one sword to slash his armpit and sending the other clean through his ribs. With a gurgling cry, he collapses and I meet my other assailant's sword halfway so the sound of clashing metal rings out in harmony with Peter's war cry and the arrival of the Narnians. This takes the Telmarine by surprise and gives me the opening I need.

The fifth soldier falls. And more come.

The world is a blur of metal and yelling and blood. My swords cut through the air without a thought, fighting alongside Rainstone and Aulgris and Nyssa and watching the courtyard fill with bodies and the crevasses between the stones run red. I'm going to kill him.

A scream tears through me and I lunge at the nearest soldier, blocking the blow aimed at Nyssa and swinging my other blade to cut clean through his leather armour and send him to the ground. The cheetah doesn't wait to pounce on his throat and I turn to intercept the sword of my next attacker. I am going to kill him!

"Ed!"

His name makes my freeze and if it wasn't for Caspian sending his sword straight through the oncoming soldier's back, I would have a hole in my chest right then. The Telmarine falls, and through the chaos around us, I send Caspain a grateful nod and leap back into the fight. The two of us quickly create a ring of fallen soldiers at our feet, and though I feel as if I've fought through half the Telmarine army by now, they still keep coming and the Narnians around us are falling and the bailey is littered with too many bodies of my friends. Too many bodies.

I hurl one of my swords through the air, the heavy weapon hitting a Telmarine helmet and sending him down before he can drive his blade through Asterius's back. On the other side of the courtyard, I notice Verdan and his siblings battling their way through a heavy line of soldiers. My vision turns red and without the slightest thought, I drop my sword and sprint toward them, clothes and armour tearing apart as I grow larger and stronger, barreling through swathes of men to reach my friends.

A deep roar rips from my throat and I launch myself at the Telmarines, paws outstretched and jaws open.

"Bear!" One of them shouts, raising his shield in a desperate act to ward off an attack. Verdan snarls savagely and lunges at him, Ezrik and Nessili following suit while I tackle another man into a wall and swipe my claws through his armour, tearing into leather and skin like butter.

"Arryn!"

I whirl around at Ezrik's warning in time to strike my assailant's weapon from his grasp. Rearing back onto my hind legs, I throw myself at the defenceless soldier so he slams into the stone. Blood seeps out from beneath him and I leap at my next target with a ferocious roar. Where do they keep coming from!?

A body falls from the gatehouse across the courtyard and I pray my eyes are deceiving me because I can't handle having seen Trumpkin fall to his death. I can't handle watching another one of my friends in their last moments while I do nothing about it.

A sword headed for my heart brings my attention back to the fight before me. Ness leaps at the Telmarine, locking her jaws around his sword arm before he can land the blow and dragging him to the ground with her weight. In an instant, Ez and Verdan are there to help their sister and I barrel into a soldier who's racing toward them, knocking away his sword and clawing through his armour.

Peter's voice rises above the pandemonium of war."Fall back!"

Nessili snarls and launches herself at another guard, prompting her brothers to follow. Glenstorm gallops past me, swinging his wicked broadsword through a Telmarine in his path. Peter is still shouting orders and I can't find Caspian or Edmund anywhere in the masses. I dodge a sword and slam my paw into the attacking soldier's head, sending him careening into another man so they both fall. Two panthers descend on them before I have the chance.

"Arryn!"

I turn toward Peter's voice, trying to stay focused on the battle around me as I search for him. The High King throws himself at two men aiming their weapons at my back, his face set in angry determination.

"Get out of here!" He yells, blocking their swords. "Find Edmund!"

FIND HIM!?

My vision blanks and I feel myself moving and I hear myself roar. Find Edmund!? My rage is blinding. Copper blood fills my mouth. By the Lion's mane, Peter Pevensie, I'm –!

Ice pierces my shoulder. Then fire.

"Arryn!"

Peter leaps across my vision, Rhindon coated in red and glinting in the moonlight. He cuts through the soldier responsible for my latest wound and looks up at me with frantic blue eyes. "Go!"

Find Edmund.

I spread a pair of feathery wings and lift into the air, shedding my heavy bear form for a sleek, sinewy gryphon. Heart beating painfully in my chest, I scan the battleground for Edmund's dark hair and pale skin. But I don't see him anywhere — on his feet or laying on the ground. I don't see him.

Desperately, I fly higher, each wingbeat tearing through my body like a searing knife carving out my muscles. Find him.

A door on the north tower flies open with a bang; the telltale sound of swords sliding from their sheathes singing through the air. Circling above the bailey, I zero in on the tower and the guards exiting the stairway and Edmund Pevensie cornered on the battlements. I fight to get there faster, praying he'll see me.

As if he can hear my thoughts across the distance separating us, Edmund looks over the edge, his eyes meeting mine through the night. He looks back up at the Telmarines with their swords drawn, advancing on him threateningly. And he leans back and falls.

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author's note

y'all. i wrote this whole monstrosity of a chapter in a day.

7.5 painstaking hours of writing and researching castles (yes, castles) for a 2571 word chapter. so. i freaking hope you guys liked it lmao

i tried my hardest to actually get the perspective of what fighting in a large-scale chaotic battle is like, which is why the descriptions during the fight are only about what's happening around arryn, not encompassing the whole castle and what susan, caspian or edmund are doing. reading fanfics that do this when they're set in first-person highkey annoy me, so i tried not to do that and focus only on what arryn experiences. not roasting anyone, i just personally don't enjoy that writing style lol

also, it might have felt a little rushed (hopefully not too much) but that's because it does actually happen super fast! if arryn was placed directly in the film, from the moment she draws her swords and starts fighting up until edmund falls from the tower is actually less than five minutes!

onto the fun fact! shane rangi, who wears the costume for asterius and stands in for a lot of other narnians, got absolutely cranked by the castle gate in one take when they're filming the narnians charging into battle lmao he was fine though, the animatronic head took all the damage. he also lost about eight pounds by the end of filming due to the costumes causing him to sweat a lot.

yikes this is turning into a long an. anywho, y'all can look forward to the next chapter because ya girl added a hella cute scene between ed & ryn!