THE PIRATES are an unexpected but welcome turn of events.

Two months of being confined to the ship doing boring, repetitive chores every day has left me desperate to break up my dull schedule. And what's more exciting than battling pirates?

The rest of the crew, however, doesn't seem to share my sentiments. And after two days of facing off the Terebinthian ship, I concede to agree with them. The never-ending arrow volleys back and forth quickly becomes rather insipid. The real excitement begins when they make their last, desperate attack: sending a boarding party in a rowboat under the cover of night to take our ship. This, of course, sows chaos on the third day of the battle.

The alarm bell pulls me from my restless sleep like a surge of electricity through my bones. On deck, the men on watch can be heard shouting and doing their best to keep the pirates at bay. It takes less than a second for the Narnians belowdecks to leap from their hammocks and storm the weapons store, arming themselves before charging onto the main deck.

Reepicheep races between my feet with a raging battle cry, clambering up the hatch ladder and launching himself into the fray. When my own feet hit the main deck, I draw my sword and follow the mouse into battle.

Drinian shouts orders from the quarterdeck, directing us to take cover from incoming arrows while keeping a watchful eye on the battle below. Because not only do we have to deal with a dozen men armed to the teeth, but deadly projectiles raining from the sky as well.

"Brace!" Drinian cries. The familiar whistle of arrows cutting through the air reaches my attuned ears and I quickly leap in to help a man caught in battle with a pirate.

My sword meets that of the pirate's as I quickly force him to retreat. "Find cover!" I shout at Mesithis, lifting my blade to thrust forward again. My opponent retreats again, shedding my sword.

With wide eyes and panting breaths, the young Telmarine hesitates. Then he sees the scales armouring my skin and dashes for the bulwark, throwing himself against it as arrows pepper the Dawn Treader. They thud into the hull and the deck planks, thankfully missing any living targets on board.

Across the ship, a body falls from the forecastle as Tavros throws one of the invaders overboard.

The pirate in front of me sneers and parries my attack, trying to advance and force my back against the bulwark. But a quick feint and transverse and I catch an opening in his guard, landing a clean thrust through the leather armour on his abdomen. His eyes bulge as he stiffens, and Mesithis lifts his own sword to slash his throat open.

I exchange a brief glance with him before rejoining the fight, scanning the ship for Caspian. I find him with Drinian on the quarterdeck, fighting his way down the staircase. Quickly, I reach down and pull a knife from the dead pirate's belt, drawing it back over my shoulder and throwing it at the king's assailant. It sinks into his back, eliciting a cry of pain and the opening Caspian needs to cut him down.

I hear someone bellow a warning at me, but I don't have the time to react before I feel cold steel pierce the hard-scaled skin of my lower back. Adrenaline shoots through my bloodstream and I pivot, using my momentum to slash my sword in a deadly arc at the pirate's head. She manages to raise her sword to block and we enter a bind. I lift the hilt of my sword, breaking off and advancing to set up a disarm. In one fluid motion, I trap the pirate's blade between my arm and body and place my sword's edge against her wrist. With a sharp spin outward, the pressure breaks her wrist and she screams, releasing the weapon so I can thrust through her back, successfully executing the same attack she attempted on me.

Reepicheep deftly slices the throat of his latest victim, leaping off the pirate's body as it topples to the deck beside me. "Excellent disarm, my Lady!" He praises.

I grin breathlessly. "Thank you."

"Brace!" Drinian cries.

I slip behind the mast for cover, an arrow whistling past my shoulder a moment later to thunk into a barrel. Another finds its mark in Caprius's shoulder as he swings a massive fist into his opponent's face, knocking him off his feet. The satyr bellows in pain but still manages to lift the fallen pirate off the deck and throw him overboard.

"Witchslayer!"

I instinctively duck and roll, hearing a sword blade embed itself in the mast where my neck had been not a second ago. I spin to fend off my assailant when the pirate slouches forward with a bloody blade protruding from his stomach.

Rithar yanks his sword out and watches the body topple over. He turns to me, his breathing coming in short pants, and nods his head. "You're welcome."

My heart is pounding against my ribs, the wound in my back beginning to burn beneath my leather armour. "Thanks."

The pirates are severely outnumbered and falling quickly under our blades. I expect them to surrender, but they continue to fight until the last of them is killed, felled by Drinian himself.

The battle only lasts a few minutes, but when the adrenaline starts wearing off I feel like I just spent all of yesterday practicing my shifting. My muscles and my bones ache like they haven't in weeks. I would relish in the feeling if it weren't for the searing wound on my back.

"Drinian," Caspian calls from below the quarterdeck. "Are all hands accounted for?"

"Yes, your highness, all hands accounted for. What are your orders?"

The crew tenses in anticipation, breath bated as they await the order to load their bows and return fire. Caspian ascends the staircase to the quarterdeck and retrieves a spyglass, aiming it at the enemy ship and lifting it to his eye.

I follow his line of sight, sharpening my eyes to see for myself what they're doing. The archers on deck have their bows pointed down, the riggers working quickly to unfurl the sails and put distance between us. The captain, for once, seems to be more focused on his own men than us. It's a retreat, I realize, the Terebinthian ship slowly but surely rotating in the water.

"They're withdrawing," Caspian announces, lowering the spyglass and turning to the crew as they celebrate, raising their weapons skyward and cheering with triumph.

Reepicheep scurries up the shrouds. "Shall we make chase, your highness?" He asks fiercely. "Defeat our enemy for good?"

The king smiles at his friend's spirit, though doesn't mirror it. "No," he says. "We let them retreat. Our intentions are for exploration, not violence. Enough blood has been shed here."

Drinian nods and addresses the crew. "Take care of the dead, those wounded can seek treatment. We set sail in an hour."

The captain turns away, prompting everyone to begin their tasks. A grave silence settles over the ship as the fallen pirates are surrendered to the ocean, without ceremony or funeral rites.

Rithar helps lift one of the bodies over the bulwark, grabbing his arms while I take the legs.

"You're bleeding," he remarks.

Wincing, I lift the heavy man off the deck. "It won't kill me."

The Telmarine lifts an eyebrow at my pained expression, rolling the dead pirate off the ledge and into the water below. "Scales don't protect from everything, eh?"

I shake my head. I can craft scales to protect from slashes and softer blows, but not powerful thrusts. No matter how strong I learn to make them, the tip of a sword can slip right between the tiny, individual plates. The damage that pirate's attack would have inflicted had my armour not slowed it down... I try not to think about it.

It's bad enough I'll need stitches and won't be able to shift for the next couple of weeks. At least, I tell myself, it was exciting.

Aslan knows this voyage has been anything but.

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I push open the doors to the stateroom, not caring to knock when I know Caspian expects my barging in at all hours of the day anyways. The weight of the doors makes the freshly-stitched wound on my back protest a bit, a stinging reminder to always — always — wear armour in a fight.

Caspian doesn't even glance up at me when I enter, a half-smile forming on his lips as he scans the maps spread before him. "How are you always the one to get hurt?" He asks.

I cross my arms, leaning my hip against the map table with a quiet scoff. "I blame you, actually."

The king raises an amused eyebrow, his eyes flickering up. "Me?"

"Yes, I was busy saving your ass when I got stabbed," I complain. "Nausus had to give me five stitches." I almost wish I still had some of Starlock's healing salve left, even though the itching it caused always drove me half-mad.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "How long for recovery?"

"Two weeks, at least. Probably three because I won't be able to sit still."

"It could be worse," he says. Which is true. The broken bones and infections I got from battling the Ettins in the north two years ago kept me from shifting back to my human form for months. After that, I consider three weeks of reduced activity a blessing.

I brace my hands against the table, inspecting the map of the eastern ocean and our plotted course. "How long to Brenn?" I ask.

The king rotates a divider caliper between his fingers, frowning at the distance between the islands. "Forty-three days, by my guess."

I try not to let my apprehension show at that number. Forty-three more days on the open water. "Will the food stores hold up?"

We haven't been able to restock the hold properly since Galma. We planned to do it here until the Terebinthians refused us docking thanks to an epidemic raging the population. And it's a long voyage from here to the Seven Isles, even under ideal circumstances.

But Caspian nods, seeming confident. "We've been keeping steady rations so far, so it shouldn't be a problem. Tavros is tallying the numbers right now to be sure."

Good, I think. But there's a knock on the stateroom doors before I can respond.

"Come in," Caspian calls.

Rynelf enters, inclining his head to the king as he approaches the map table. "Captain Drinian hopes to set sail soon," he reports, setting to work measuring the distance to our destination.

"Is the final course charted?"

Rynelf nods, setting his compass on the table beside him. "I've found the most direct route to Brenn." He points to the pins used to mark out our path, almost a straight line to the Seven Isles, and gestures to a portion in the middle. "There's a strong current that will carry us through this stretch here. It should be about forty-seven days — forty if the wind holds."

"And if we lose the wind?"

The sailing master scratches his beard, running the numbers and formulas in his head faster than anyone I've seen. "Well over sixty days if we stay the course, possibly less if we alter course and catch these currents here and here."

The king nods thoughtfully. "Good. We stay the current course while the wind is with us. Have alternate routes planned should we need them."

"Of course, your highness." Rynelf pulls a small notebook from his belt, scribbling some navigational notes across the parchment before scooping up his compass and leaving the stateroom.

Caspian meets my gaze. "I was close."

"Only four days off," I agree with admiration. The first time the king attempted to estimate the length of our voyage, he was severely off. But since we set sail, his nautical navigation skills have gradually been improving. The days spent with Rynelf studying charts and maps in the stateroom have certainly helped, as well as the year of studying he did in preparation for this voyage.

It's strange to see him so quickly adapt to the nautical lifestyle when the Telmarines refused for so many generations to have anything to do with it. But I guess it's yet another way of proving just how much Narnia has changed under Caspian X's reign. How different our world has become in such a short time.

Caspian rolls his shoulders. "Alright," he sighs. "Let's go."

I nod and turn to follow him, but my feet hesitate. Just long enough to glance around the room, taking in the murals and items decorating the walls. Just long enough to let my eyes fall on the silver torch — 'light without a flame,' he'd once called it — before following Caspian out the doors and onto the deck.

To the Seven Isles.

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author's note

hello kids and welcome to the first chapter of part two!

i hope y'all don't mind the leap right into the action lol i thought a pirate battle would be a cool way to kick it off since most fics i've read start right when the pevensies return to narnia. which is cool too, but there's so much potential for a story before that! maybe because i've spent too much of my time playing assassin's creed black flag but especially considering the voyage has almost lasted six months by the time they show up (based on my rough estimate). i don't plan to cover the details of all those months, but I'll do at least two, maybe three chapters of it before we see the return of edmund and lucy

i've done a shocking amount of research on the narnia universe (islands, governments, history, etc), the dawn treader book itself, medieval sailing/navigation, crew roles/tasks, ship terminology, and even trying to map the structure and deck plan of the dawn treader based on movie clips and screencaps. there's so much to know about sailing and i feel incredibly underqualified to be writing so much about it lmao doing my best tho

rithar has returned! he's among the 30% of telmarines who chose to stay in narnia and i thought it'd be fun to add him to the crew! he's still a pessimistic shithead but that's what we love to see lmfao

also, i know the battle of terebinthia is supposed to be three days of fighting with only arrows, but my assassin's creed mind was thirsting for some action so i said fuck it and wrote a boarding party into it

i hope you guys liked this chapter and I'll see y'all with chapter 40 next week!