Omg, is this what it feels to post a chapter less than month after the previous one? I had forgotten what inspiration actually felt like *cue sad violin accords*.

Also, I haven't done a disclaimer in forever, so in case there was any doubt, I do not own anything other than the plot of this fic and my original characters. The rest is the wonderful work of the genius that was C.S Lewis.

Chapter 19: The Forest

Peter woke up with a jolt, alarmed, a feeling of imminent peril beating in his chest. He looked around the room in panic, his sleepy, hungover brain taking a moment to recognise the place as his old study, his surroundings disrupted by the nearly complete darkness and the killer headache beating against his skull. His heart was thumping and his breathing was laboured. His dreams had been erratic images, faces indistinct, voices merging with one another, chaotic in all senses. Yet what had waken him up was a strong sense of doom, of urgency, of danger. His body felt sore and he was drenched in sweat; God, had he drunk his weight in wine?!

Slowly, his eyes got used to the dim light provided by a small fire that cast long shadows on the floor and walls. He remembered being in Cair, but everything else was either blurry or plain blank, and his headache grew stronger the harder he tried to remember. Judging by the inky sky outside, it was very late (or very early) and he wondered just how long he had slept. The flames crackled and a glint of gold caught his attention, his hand rising instinctively to his chest as he recognised the object. The golden medallion of a roaring lion had been a gift from King Lune on his 25th birthday – his medallion! And were those his clothes?! Dread turned his insides into ice as he slowly turned around to look at the bulk beside him. The dim light cast pools of shadows on the curves of Nabeela's slender and very naked back, and her delicate frame rose and fall rhythmically with her breathing. Peter needn't look under the linen cover to know they were both in the same state of undress; everything around them suggested with distressing clarity what had transpired between them.

The King got dressed in silence, berating himself for being so careless; how was he going to face Nabeela in the morning? How could he tell her he had no recollection of their night together? He was not sure he could look at his own reflection without being sick.

"And you call yourself a King, Peter Pevensie..." he whispered.

Throwing a guilty look at Nabeela's sleeping form, he left the room in search of fresh air. As he walked towards the main hall, the cacophony of voices grew louder, urgent commands and questions ringing in the air. Peter hurried his step, alarmed, for nothing good could have caused such commotion at this hour. As he rounded the nearest corner, he nearly ran straight into Tavros.

"Your Majesty, we thought you were at the camp." The minotaur seemed surprised (at the very least) to find one of his Kings in the ruins at night.

"I… I ended up losing track of time during one of my walks." Peter lied, hoping Tavros would choose to ignore the stench of alcohol emanating from him. "Now tell me, what the hell is going on?"

"There are signs of a fire near the campsite, we are not yet sure of what caused it, but it is spreading rapidly."

Colour drained from Peter's face; if only he hadn't behaved like a petulant idiot, he would have been with his family and friends and perhaps done something to prevent this disaster.

"Right," he cleared his throat; this was no time for regret. "Tavros, I want the griffin squadron ready as soon as possible, and a team of men collecting as much sand and water as they can carry. We need to focus on extinguishing the fire and keeping it from spreading further into the forest. How many men-"

"Peter!"

The King spun around to find Lucy running in his direction, Scorpio and Coralee on her heels. The little Queen threw herself into her brother's embrace, her thin arms wounding tightly around his neck.

"Oh Peter, thank Aslan! Where have you been?!"

"Long story." Peter smiled, hugging Lucy close.

Scorpio caught Peter's gaze and the two men shared a knowing look, not that the Prince needed any hints on what – or rather, who – had kept the King away.

A few minutes later, Scorpio and Lucy had narrated the whole situation to Peter and Tavros.

"Trolls? So close to Cair?" Peter exclaimed incredulously.

"There have been sightings, sire. We believe they have approached the palace either by curiosity or attracted by the smell of food." Tavros informed.

"Where is everyone?" asked Peter, stretching his neck trying to spot any familiar face.

"Spread on the forest around the camp." Scorpio's tone conveyed the gravity of the situation.

"The forest? Surely there was a safer escape route!" Peter barked.

"It was chaos, Pete, it's not like we had time to plan our escape." Lucy intervened, shooting a sharp glance at her brother for him to get a grip.

"We need to alert the centaurs," Peter turned to Tavros, avoiding his sister's chastising – and fully deserved – glare. "We will need all the help we can get to push the trolls back into the hole they crawled out of."

"Caspian, behind you!" Edmund warned, waving his torch to attract the attention of the troll closest to him. "Come on, follow me you nuthead!"

Caspian rolled on the floor, having just escaped being clubbed in the head but not wanting to be stomped by the troll's lousy footwork. His attacker appeared to be distracted and Caspian's blood froze at the source of its distraction.

"Gemini, NO!"

The Crown Prince of Archenland had unsheathed his sword and faced the troll bravely. The sight of the shiny blade added to the troll's already aggressive demeanour; being naturally disposed to violence, trolls enjoyed having a reason to fight, particularly when provoked.

"Run!" Caspian dragged Gemini into the forest. As the troll prepared to go after them, a bottle crashed on its back and it let out a terrible growl as fire spread on its skin. Rainidan was perched on a tree, holding a handful of bottles filled with oil and lit through a cloth soaked in the same substance: improvised hand grenades. Ed had little time to be impressed by his friend's resourcefulness; Rainidan's position also made him an easy target or the troll's club.

"Rainidan, jump!"

The King's cry was drowned by another hair-splitting gnarl followed by the heavy club cutting the air and crashing against the tree. Edmund stared in horror as Rainidan flew in the air and landed heavily on the floor. Grabbing another torch, the King set out to draw the troll away from the Knight at any cost.

"Hello, arsehole!" Ed threw the torch at the back of the creature's head. It took a moment for the troll to locate him and Ed shot a glance at Rainidan, who despite the fall was trying to stand. He had a nasty looking wound on his left leg and his shoulder was dislocated; he wouldn't be able to move very far.

"Go to the path to the Orchard, help is on its way!" he instructed from the opposite side. As much as he wished to help him, getting any closer meant making it easier for the troll to kill them both. Rainidan nodded and threw one of the unlit grenades at the King; he would take advantage of the distraction to move as fast as his wounds allowed him. Edmund shoved a handful of the fire-powder he still had on his pocket into the oil bottle and ignited it. The last thing he saw before dashing into the densely packed trees was Rainidan limping away into the darkness.

Peter led Tavros and a group of workers in the direction of the flames, attentive to any sign of danger. Lucy had insisted in coming along despite the vehement opposition of both Peter and Scorpio, but the Valiant Queen was not to be dissuaded and clutched her cordial to her chest. A rustle of leaves had Peter and Tavros reaching for their swords.

"Who's there!" demanded the King.

"Peter?"

Susan pushed a branch away from her face and lowered her bow. "Lucy?"

Peter sheathed Rhindon and hugged his sister. "By Jove, I was so worried!"

"Likewise," Susan whispered back. "We need to talk you and I, later."

The Queen then looked around the group. "Have you found any of the others?"

"Not yet. Did you get the twins?" Lucy asked, beaming when her sister nodded.

"Zeph's with them, ah, here they come."

Scorpio leapt forward and grabbed his cousins in a headlock, relieved they had escaped unscathed. He then knocked their heads together.

"That's for scaring the living lights out us all! I have a right mind to chain you to a tree until we return to Telmartown! Frankly, to run after a troll like that…!" he scolded. The twins had the decency of looking abashed. Satisfied, the Prince turned to his best friend and pulled him into a hug.

"Glad you made it in one piece, Tairin wouldn't have liked the idea of you missing any bits."

Zephyr chuckled at his joke and his gaze met Peter's. The moment of tension was palpable, Scorpio and Susan sharing a nervous look. The two men acknowledged each other with a court nod.

"Alright. Peter what is the plan?" Susan asked, subtly reminding them of their priorities.

"Tavros and I are leading the fire brigade." Peter replied.

"Alright, then Zeph, Lucy and I will tackle first aid and food." Susan decided. It would be better for everyone if Peter and Zephyr were as far from each other as possible.

"Isn't Tairin with you?" Zephyr asked. Peter's ears perked up, intrigued about the answer against his will.

"Er..." Scorpio mumbled, looking at Lucy for support. "She- well, she careered back to the camp, looking for you, actually." he told, pointing at Peter.

"She was worried you and Nabeela were not aware of the kerfuffle." Lucy added.

"She went back alone?!" Zephyr's voice was dangerously low.

"My arms were full of the girls – literally – and even if I could, I wouldn't have been able to stop her, you know what she's like." Scorpio explained guiltily.

Zephyr made a move to return to the campsite but was intercepted by Susan.

"I know you are worried, but you need to trust her; she knows better than anyone the dangers of being alone in the forest at night." Their clear gazes connected, piercing one another. "There is a big chance she will run into Caspian and the others. You are more helpful here with us than alone out there."

Zephyr was visibly torn, but finally nodded.

"Guys come fast!"

A shape had caught Peter's eye – who had been looking for any excuse not to address his concern over Tairin's welfare – and casting his torch forward, a very wounded Rainidan was revealed.

"Lucy, your cordial, quick!" Susan hurried.

"We need to take him to Cair to examine his shoulder." Peter told, noticing the odd angle in which Rainidan's arm as hanging.

"No, Peter. You go ahead with Tavros and the men, the rest of us will take care of him." Susan's tone was commanding and admitted no contradiction. Peter knew she was right. With a nod of understanding, the siblings began instructing their respective teams and heading in opposite directions.

Edmund leaned against a tree and let himself slide to the ground. He was completely spent. The troll had followed him quite stubbornly and at some point had been joined by another of his mates. Thankfully for the King, the second troll was more interested in beating up the first one than chasing after the tiny human, and Ed took advantage of the situation to scarper away, ditching his torch on the way. To make things worse, he had no idea where he was and the dim moonlight was not strong enough for him to recognise any familiar spots – in the dark every tree looked exactly the same. He would try to find a way to the camp once he had caught his breath and his legs stopped feeling like jelly.

It was so tempting to stay there and drift to sleep, the tiredness of the day adding to the latest events. He was thirsty and sticky with sweat, the latter particularly getting on his nerves. All that torch-waving had taken quite a toll on him. Maybe if he could get to the river on his way back… The Just King shook, realising he had fallen asleep. He needed to keep moving or exhaustion would get the best of him. A grunt echoed on his throat, his legs complaining at the effort of carrying his weight. He vowed to spend a whole day in bed once this nightmare was over. Now, what was it about using the constellation of the Arrow to guide himself at night?

Edmund cursed, tripping on an overgrown root for the umpteenth time that night. His knowledge of the Narnian sky needed brushing up, seeing as he didn't make any sense of the stars above him. His aimless wandering had taken him to an area densely packed with trees which hindered his view of the sky. He could try finding a clearing, but that would make it more difficult to find his way back to the camp. The King sat under a tree and contemplated the idea of waiting till morning. He was thinking about building a fire when a arrhythmical thumping sound reached his ears. For a moment he thought the trolls had found him, and he pressed his ear to the ground to confirm his fears, but he was met by silence. This was a most unnatural sound at this time of day, or any time of day for that matter. Restless, he got on his feet, tiredness and sore legs forgotten.

The King followed the sound whilst trying to decipher its origin, and more importantly, whether it represented a threat or not. His trail hunt led him to a dead end, although he could still hear the noise loud and clear. Stretching his arms in front of him, he felt a tangle of weeds and pushed his way through until he was surrounded by darkness. The air was damp and his breathing echoed in his ears; was he inside some sort of cavern…? He was about to turn around when an annoyed grunt burst through the air, sending his heart into a wild beat.

"Crack up, you stupid thing!"

Edmund stumbled through the curtain of weeds, not caring that he scratched his arms against the rock walls.

"Myr!"

The Duchess grasped loudly and lobbed a coconut – the object of her frustration – at him.

"Edmund!" her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry!"

Thankfully, her aim had been severely affected by the shock and the coconut landed a good three feet away from Edmund with a thud. The teens flung themselves into each other's arms and Edmund took Myrina by surprise by wrapping her in a tight embrace and lifting her off the ground. Her shock was quickly replaced by joy and she returned the embrace greedily.

And for a moment it was like time had stopped.

His presence brought an overwhelming sense of relief, of safety. Edmund's arms tightened around her small frame as she trembled violently, the stress of the attack finally wearing through her survival instinct, which had so far kept her emotions at bay. His own loud sigh bore witness to the warm relief coursing through him, the tension in his muscles relaxing slightly; although they were still in danger, there was something encouraging about not being out there alone.

They stood in silence for a long moment, comforting themselves in each other's warmth and closeness, as if needing to convince themselves this was not an illusion, that however improbably, they had found one another in the maze of trees.

"I'm so glad to see you!"

"I'm so glad I found you!"

They shook with a laugh, and Edmund put Myr on the floor carefully. Her hand rushed to wipe the tears off her eyes.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Edmund's eyebrows creased together as his gaze scanned her for any injuries.

"I'm fine, just a surge of emotion," she shook her head lightly and rubbed her eyes. "What about you?" she added, examining the criss-cross of scratches in his forearms.

"I'll live." he replied with his trademark smirk. His eyes then fell on the discarded coconut.

"So you were making that noise with this?" he shifted the fruit between his hands appraising it. It was slightly different from the coconuts he knew, but appeared to be edible. A quick shake confirmed it contained water, and likely enough for the two of them.

"I thought that if I made enough noise someone would eventually find me."

"Really?"

"No, I was trying to crack it, smart-arse..." Myr shot him a glare but Edmund was busy looking around his feet, scouring the ground for anything he could use as a tool. Soon he found what he needed and sat with the coconut between his feet.

"Well, you have been going at it wrong,pumpkin," he jeered. "If you crack it in the middle you'll end up spilling all the water, whereas if you hit it here," he pointed to the crown of the coconut, where the shell was thinner. "It breaks easily."

And just as he had predicted, the coconut fractured with a soft, dry sound. Edmund opened his mouth to speak, but the dark, pitch-black look Myrina cast his way made him swallow his taunting sting.

They drank thirstily, the sweet liquid not only surprisingly palatable but very refreshing.

"Narnian coconuts taste different than the ones in Archenland." Myr noted as Edmund finished cracking the now empty coconut, hoping to eat its flesh.

"That's because it is not." he announced, holding out a piece for her to see. Indeed, where it should have been white, this fruit was a pale shade of pink. "Where did you get this?"

Myr pointed to a medium-sized tree with thin spiky leaves and whose branches stooped low due to the weight of the fruit. Edmund got closer to take a better look, but the tree seemed pretty innocent as did the fruit.

"Ugh! By Jove, this is disgusting!" Myr exclaimed, spitting a mouthful of pink fruit. "It is the sourest thing I've ever put in my mouth!"

Edmund bit back a laugh at her grimace. "I think it is better if we keep off the flesh then; for all we know it could be bad for us." he sat back down, handing her another of the exotic fruits.

Once they had quenched their thirst and rested a little, it was time to plan their next steps.

"From where I stand, we've got only two options: make a torch and try to find our way out, on the risk of going even deeper into the forest; or build a bigger fire and wait here until morning when I'll be able to locate myself a bit better."

"Do you think it's safe for us to sleep out here?"

"As long as we stay close to the fire we should be alright."

Myrina did not look reassured, but the alternative was full of uncertainties and even more danger.

Sensing her hesitation, the King decided on the more prudent option. "I think we are both exhausted and could do with some sleep. I can't promise it will be comfortable, but at least we will be in better shape to trek back to the camp in the morning."

"Alright." Myr nodded, looking a tiny bit relieved but only just.

"The night before we met Caspian for the first time, my siblings and I – and a very disgruntled Trumpkin – slept out in the open and nothing happened to us," he bumped his shoulder against hers in an effort to cheer her up. "And we were positively lost then, despite Peter's insistence we weren't." This at least snatched a laugh out of the Archen.

Edmund yawned, only then noticing just how tired he was, and got up to gather sticks and dry leaves to feed the fire through the night. He barely made it halfway up when his vision blurred drastically and his knees buckled under his weight. Myr's desperate gasp was the last thing he heard before losing conscience.

"Edmund, if this is a joke, it is not funny!"

Myr knelt at his side, patting his face, panic building inside her. He had been fine only an instant ago…! She shook him frantically, her hands feeling numb due to the panic.

"Ed-" her voice got stuck in her throat and she felt her arms give in, all strength suddenly gone. Her body felt increasingly heavier until she could no longer hold herself up and crashed on top of Edmund's chest. Despite her best efforts, she could not move any of her limbs. They were going to die…! Her lids were closing against her will and she could no longer battle the tiredness taking over her. On the brink of unconsciousness, she heard the faint sound of hooves.

Gemini and Caspian ran aimlessly until they were forced to stop, their lungs and leg muscles asking for a moment's respite. Satisfied they could no longer hear the troll following them, Caspian let himself fall on the grass, taking large gulps of air.

"How far do you reckon we are from the camp?" Gemini asked, once his heartbeat and breathing had returned more-or-less to normal.

"I haven't the foggiest." Caspian groaned. "I'm just glad we didn't trip on anything or fell in a ditch."

Gemini had to agree they had made a lucky escape, but it would be a long time before they could relax; getting out of the forest was their only priority right now. He was about to ask Caspian about it when his trained senses caught the sound of voices among the trees. Next to him Caspian lay low, tense in alert.

"I need fresh lemongrass and honeysuckle. Nightshade, if you could fetch me some fresh water."

From their hiding place, the royals witnessed a herd of centaurs move through the forest gracefully despite carrying no torches. Their knowledge of the woods and their unique sense of direction were unparalleled. Unfortunately, Caspian and Gemini's eyes were not as good in the dark as the centaurs' and it was hard for them to know how many there were; although they were peaceful, Caspian knew many were still hostile towards Telmarines and would perhaps misinterpret their presence.

"State your name and business!" a grave voice growled behind them. Gemini threw a discreet look at their assailant to find the pointy end of a lance directed at him.

"With pleasure, if only my friend and I were allowed to stand up." Caspian spoke calmly, amazed that neither him nor Gemini had noticed the bulky centaur's presence.

"Nightshade, what is that all about?"

"I found soldiers spying on us, Petra."

"Surely there is an explanation. Bring them forward and get the water I asked you."

Caspian and Gemini were pushed forward until they were surrounded by centaurs, their hooves beating the ground menacingly.

"Who are you and what are you looking for?" Nightshade questioned them with a ferocious grunt.

"Lower your weapon, Nightshade, this is our King you are talking to." Petra had a soothing, whispy voice that commanded respect nonetheless. Under the pale moonlight Caspian saw the centaurs bow respectfully, and he couldn't help the burst of joy in his chest. The warm feeling did not last, however. Gemini's gasp echoed in the dark as his gaze fell onto a familiar face.

"Myrina!"

The young Duchess was nested in the arms of one of the centaurs, unconscious. The Faithful King's heart plummeted as he recognised the figure of his best friend being carried on a rudimentary stretched between two centaurs. The two men looked at Petra in alarm.

"There will be time for explanations, but for now our priority is to bring your friends back to health."

The first aid tent had been set up in the Orchard, where Lucy, Susan and the physician were busy walking among the stretchers and cots hosting the wounded. After nearly an hour of effort, the fire had been contained and extinguished, not before a series of small explosions had given them all quite a scare and injured some of the men. Lest to say, the flames had left a chaotic scene behind.

Lucy pulled the flap separating Rainidan from the other patients and took a small peep inside to see if the Archen was awake. The ever-alert soldier opened his eyes immediately and welcomed her with a small smile.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, placing a small tray on the bed beside him. It had taken Scorpio, Zeph and another burly man to hold him still while the physician redressed his shoulder; the scene had been ugly to witness.

"Like I should be out there helping King Peter."

"Peter would be the first to tell you to rest and recover from your injuries," Lucy snorted. "Although he himself fails to follow his own advice more often than not." she shook her head and handed him a cup of medicinal tea to relieve the pain on his shoulder joint.

"Do you mind if I take a look at your wound now?"

Rainidan shook his head and pulled the blanket away so she could access his leg better. His trouser leg was stained with clotted blood and out of habit he prepared himself for the gory picture. He observed as Lucy removed the bandages delicately and cleaned the area around his newly acquired scar. He couldn't help marvelling at it, as only a few moments before it had been an open, bleeding gash.

"Even after 1300 years my cordial is still as effective as they day Father Christmas gave it to me." Lucy noted, satisfied that the wound had healed nicely. "The area around the scar may feel a bit tender for a few days, but it should not be painful. I only wish I could say the same about your shoulder." she sighed.

"A minor injury for a soldier, I assure you." The Knight chuckled, flinching an instant later. Lucy moved to the other side of the bed to check on his shoulder and reapply the herbal ointment prescribed by the doctor. The Valiant Queen blushed as Rainidan pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his bare and well-muscled torso. Lucy worked in silence, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks every time her fingers brushed against his chest. And was that a tattoo she saw peeking behind his back?

She cursed being this age again, when the mere sight of the male body turned her into a blushing, giggling mess. Curious, after all she had seen Peridan in various states of undress… Damn, she was blushing even more now. She shot a nervous look at Rainidan, mortified that he would notice her childish reaction, but he appeared to be distracted by the passing shadows outside. Feeling slightly relieved but no less embarrassed, she focused on the bandage and readjusted his sling. Little did the Queen know that the Archen Knight was all too aware of her exceptionally rosy cheeks but refrained from causing her further discomfort by making any comment on it; her sweet innocent reaction was endearing and spoke of the purity of her heart, it was something to be cherished and protected.

"Is that a tattoo?" she asked.

He shifted a bit so she could get a better look. The abstract pattern stretched across his shoulder blade, a few of the lines climbing near his neck. It reminded Lucy of the drawings of Pacific Islanders' art she had seen at a museum.

"Yes. Most Archen soldiers get one upon being granted a knighthood, it's a sort of tradition, although not compulsory."

"Is it always the same design?"

Rainidan nodded his head. "It is based on a carving done by the Dwarves a very long time ago. It is supposed to bring protection."

"I see." the little Queen was meditative for a moment before adding: "But if you were to go on a cover operation, wouldn't it make it easier to identify you?"

Rainidan was slightly taken aback by her question, forgetting for a moment she had some military knowledge despite often refusing to take part of battle planning.

"There is a potion we use to conceal the ink that comes quite handy in such cases."

"How clever! I shall tell this to Edmund, he used to want to have one." she grinned. "Does it hurt much?"

"Depends on the size and design, as well as the person, I suppose." he smiled.

"Oh, even if it didn't I don't think Peter would let me get one, he would have an attack!" she giggled.

"Lucy? Oh, there you are." Queen Susan's head peered through the flap, looking a bit agitated. "Have you seen Peter?"

"Last time I saw him he was with Tavros and the griffins."

Susan frowned and bit her lip. "Well, given that it was Tavros asking for him, it's fair to say Peter is no longer with him. I only hope he didn't go searching for the others on his own."

"He wouldn't be so foolish, would he?"

The Queens shared an aggravated look. In their hearts they knew he would.

Tairin groaned and shifted on the branch she was sitting on. There was no trace of Nabeela or Peter when she had reached the Maharabian's tent; which was good news in that they were out of danger, but rose many other – albeit unimportant – questions. Then the ground had trembled under her feet and next thing she knew, the tent had been stripped clean off the ground; had she not been on her hands and knees the blow would have killed her. Not hanging around to see if the troll had seen her, she scrambled to her feet and into the forest, running until she could no longer hear the growls of the trolls. Out of breath and quite lost, she decided she would be better hidden in the leafy density of the tree branches. In fairness, she had not been at her best and this had not been her most brilliant idea to date, the issue now being that she had no visibility of the ground and feared climbing down blindly; one false step could send her hurtling to the ground and to a very painful landing. She had tried reaching down carefully with her foot but had no means to test if the branches would hold her weight. And so, the Princess exhaled a loud, annoyed breath. She narrowed her eyes in an effort to catch a glimpse of something, anything, under the moon's silvery light.

Nothing, not a flash, just the great darkness.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the breezy weather ran down her back. Being in the forest at night reminded her of that night, all those years ago. The darkness was the same, and the soldiers' voices, and then silence. She had known those men had been ordered to take her away and kill her, but the silence had been even more terrifying. The Princess rubbed her hands together, taken by a sudden chill. In her finger, her engagement ring twinkled lightly. She smiled. She had escaped unharmed then, and this time would not be any different.

Peter had ran into the forest without thinking. He had asked one of the griffins if he had seen any of the missing royals, but the Narnian had no good news on that front. For some reason, the lack of news and the anxiety of not knowing if they were safe pushed him into action. Before he had time to think about it, he had grabbed Rhindon and marched towards the dark depths of the woods. With hindsight it had been a bad idea. A really bad idea. If only he had thought of bringing a torch… Worse still, he had rushed in without making any note of his surroundings which would have been useful to find his way back. Normally this would not be a problem during the day, but at night he might as well be blind.

The shock of the attack and the fire had sobered him up about right, but his head still felt a bit fuzzy every now and then, some of that whole bottle of brandy probably still in his system.

"For fuck's sake!" he cursed loudly, his booted foot falling on a rabbit hole. He managed to yank his foot out, but his boot was firmly stuck, not helping the King's mood.

"Who's there?!"

Peter's hand flew to the hilt of his sword and turned around, his boot forgotten. The tip of his sword scratched against the bark of a tree.

"Hello?"

Hold on, he knew that voice…

"Tairin?"

Caspian's sister heard herself groan with a mix of annoyance and relief. Of all people who could have come to her aid, why did it have to be him?!

"Peter, I'm up here!"

It was mortifying to have to admit to him she had made the stupid mistake of climbing up a tree in the dark, but she had no other choice.

"What? Wait, hold on…"

There was no point in doing anything if they couldn't see each other, Peter thought, ripping a strip of fabric from his shirt and rummaging on the floor for a stick and something he could use to light a fire. Up on the tree Tairin frowned.

"Peter are you still there?" he wouldn't dare leave her on her own again, would he?

"I'm trying to make a fire; I can't help you if I can't see you."

"Oh, right."

It took Peter some time to get a decent fire blazing, and the lively flames were welcomed by the excited exclamations of the two royals. Once his eyes had adjusted to the new light, Peter looked up, his blue gaze searching for Tairin. She was precariously perched on a branch a good 30ft off the ground. The branches around her did not look very solid and he could tell with some certainty that it was going to be a difficult descent.

"Ok, well, um… how do you want to do this?" he craned his neck up to look at her.

"I don't have too much choice than to test the branches with my feet and hope for the best." she stretched her leg and pushed her foot into the nearest branch. Peter's eyes traced her slender leg for a moment before he checked himself.

"Do you want me to guide you?"

"No!" she squeaked. "Stay where you are!"

Her thin nightdress had borne the brunt of her climb and had acquired a long tear around the chest area. The darkness had provided some cover until then, but now she was not sure she could climb down without flashing some indecent amount of skin. Not to mention Peter was the last person she wanted to witness such spectacle.

"Are you sure? It looks dange-"

"TURN!"

Peter did as told, for once not wanting to contradict the fiery Telmarine; she needed to be as calm as possible to focus on her footwork. The King was tempted to sneak a few glances behind him as it appeared Tairin was struggling.

"Shit!"

Peter bit his lip and tapped his foot nervously. At least her voice sounded closer.

"If I can't look, at least tell me what's going on!" he hissed.

"I can't go any further."

"Make a pause, catch your breath then try again."

"All the breath in the world won't make a difference." Tairin rolled her eyes. "There are no branches left!"

"Then you must be close enough to the ground, just jump!"

"I can't!"

"By the Tail, Tairin, this is ridiculous, I'm going to turn around!"

And so he did, giving Tairin barely enough time to grab the ripped pieces of fabric together and keep Peter from getting an eyeful of cleavage.

Tairin was holding on as tight as she could on a branch about 9ft high. He would have no problem jumping from that height, but something told him the Princess had not been taught how to fall safely. Because she would most definitely fall. Then he was struck by an idea.

"Look, I'm going to walk right under you. Use my shoulders to support yourself and I'll help you down."

Tairin hesitated for a moment. "You must promise to keep your eyes shut!"

"I can't do much if I can't see, can I?" She was getting on his nerves. "Honestly, I have better things to do than to gawp up your skirts!"

"Indeed not, if you know what's good for you!"

Peter's throat reverberated with a growl. "Can you please stop being difficult?"

Outraged, Tairin was about to snap at him but decided against it; he was her only hope to get off the blasted tree and she needed to be on his good graces. Biting her lip, she knew she had to tell him the truth.

"Right. Look, I had a bit of a wardrobe malfunction. I ripped my nightdress in a- um… inconvenient place; I can't really jump without exposing myself..."

Peter swallowed hard and tried thinking of something disgusting. Like Trumpkin's socks. Quietly and clutching to the dregs of his composure, he pulled his shirt over his head, his back still turned at Tairin.

"Put this on." He threw the shirt up in the air for her to catch it, eyes firmly shut as an additional precaution.

Tairin, who was not at all expecting this, did not know what to say and nearly failed to catch the soft fabric. Under her feet Peter stood still, naked from the waist up.

"Are you done?" he asked impatiently.

Tairin shook into action and slipped the white shirt on. It was still warm from him wearing it and it smelled faintly of a woody scent that tickled her nose. The fact that she noticed these details disturbed her greatly.

"Come on, we haven't got all night."

By Aslan, how did he manage to be annoying even when he was being nice?!

"Alright, you can look."

Peter opened his eyes to see Tairin's feet dangling above him, and if he stretched his arm he'd be able to touch them.

"Alright, lower yourself slowly, I'll guide you with my hands." he instructed. "And take off your shoes; I don't fancy being stamped on."

Tairin rolled her eyes but did as told. The slippers fell on the ground with a muffled thud and Peter's hand soon came in contact with the smooth skin of her calf, muscle firm under his palm.

Focus, Peter.

"Good, now support yourself on my hands so you can sit on my shoulders."

"I can't reach!"

"Slowly, one hand at a time, and don't let go of the branch until I get a good grasp on you."

Tairin had no other choice than to trust Peter, but hard as she tried, she wasn't stable enough to let go of the branch.

"Peter, I swear, I can't reach you."

"Hold still." Peter gave a few steps forward and looked up at her, searching for another solution. Tairin was braced against the branch, her lower body hanging in the air. If only…

"Tairin, do you think you can hang from the branch just using your hands?"

Not at all confidently, Tairin tried as he suggested. Peter then grabbed her legs, encircling her thighs, and held her long enough for her to release the branch and support her arms on his shoulders. Once she was safely in his arms, he simply let her slide down until her feet touched the ground. They stared at one another, faces so close they were almost touching, in shock that their plan had been a success.

Tairin's short breaths grazed his face, her skin glistening with a thin layer of transpiration from the effort of climbing down. Her face was so close he could see the flush in her cheeks and the flecks of hazel in her irises.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt?" he whispered, his voice momentarily losing its amplification.

Other than her ego – and she expected also her sanity – she was fine.

"Just a few scratches, but nothing painful."

"Good." he cleared his throat and gently put her on the ground, dropping his arms to his sides and walking to where he had abandoned his sword and his boot. He had to put some distance between them, clear the air of her scent.

It was morally, ethically and intrinsically wrong for him to have these… sensations around Tairin. A woman who hated his guts and perhaps most importantly, a woman who was engaged to be married to someone else. He himself was in a serious relationship, he was reminded with a pang of guilt. Only a few hours ago he had been in bed with Nabeela; he had an obligation towards her, especially after...

By Jove, this whole night had been utterly wrong! Hard as he tried, he still couldn't remember any details of his intimate encounter with the Maharabian Princess; the whole scene he had seen upon waking up pointed to a night of passion – unequivocally, unquestionably and irrefutably. But also unrequited. This is what bothered Peter the most; he should have never gotten so drunk so as to have his judgement and his chivalry impaired to the point of not remembering something so intimate, so personal. Had he been sober he would have never let his first night with Nabeela be a drunken fumble gone too far.

"Have you any idea of where we are?" Tairin looked at the sky through the branches. The moon was still high, which meant the morning was still a few hours away.

"South of Cair Paravel, I think." he replied after a moment, having realised she was talking to him.

"The legends say that the Kings of Old could guide themselves by the position of the stars."

Peter surprised Tairin by chuckling. "My knowledge of the Narnian sky is not what it used to be, and the stars have changed in 1300 years." he sighed.

"Aren't the stars the same where you come from?"

It was a genuine question, innocent in her curiosity, but Peter's gaze grew cold.

"You can barely see the stars back there any more."

In fact, many people had taken to avoiding looking at the sky, scared they might get a glimpse of a bomb falling over their heads. Tairin had always been curious about this other world the Pevensies knew and had a million questions she wished to ask. However, this was not the right time nor the right place; something in Peter's expression had hardened, darkened, and she took it as a warning not to pry any further.

"Well then," she dusted herself off. "Let's head north and trust it's the right call."

Peter was about to protest but bit his tongue. It was not exactly a plan and many things could go wrong, but it was the best they had.

Meanwhile, somewhere else in the forest, Edmund woke up with a gasp, his eyes darting across the room. He was having trouble breathing, his heart was threatening to break through his ribs, and not knowing where he was was not doing anything to soothe his agitation. The last thing he remembered was being in the forest with Myr, getting up to collect some wood and then… nothing. He was feverish and drenched in sweat, his body feeling like it was boiling from the inside. Every breath felt constricted and heavy, like breathing through a curtain of steam, and his vision kept coming in and out of focus. He felt tired, exhausted actually. He had no clue how long he had been unconscious but it had felt far too long and none of it had been restful. His dreams had been plagued by nightmares and anxiety, scenes flashing before his eyes quickly and chaotically before dissolving into darkness. He was thirsty and hot, so, so hot!

His eyes fell on Myrina lying next to him on another cot, thrashing around in her sleep. She too was covered in sweat, so much so that her hair, usually a vibrant shade of ginger, was matt and sticking to her skin. The King felt pity for his friend, that had to be a frightfully terrible dream she was having, but when her body tensed and arched, he knew she was having a fit. A wail escaped her throat, painful and desperate.

"Myr…!" he called out, his voice a feeble, miserable whisper. He willed his body to move, to help her, but it seemed like every ounce of strength he ever possessed had been depleted and his bones had turned into iron. His fingers inched closer to hers, hoping to at least be able to grab her hand and reassure her. A sharp sting hit his core and left him breathless, punching all air out of his lungs. His body begun to shake with a torturous convulsion, muscles tensing and jolting as every single one of his nerves was hit by pain, over and over again. The agony lasted for what felt like hours, at the end of which his body fell limply on the cot, exhausted and barely conscious. Through lidded eyes, Edmund noted Myr had recovered from her fit but was struggling to breathe. Fearing for her life, he pushed himself up to a sitting position only to be pushed back by a pair of delicate yet strong hands on his shoulders.

"Peace, young King, you are in safe hands. The girl is out of danger and both of you will make a full recovery, but you need to save your strength." The voice was old, breathy and soothing. Petra smiled when he looked at her.

"She's my friend." he told in a raspy whisper.

"I can see that."

"Ed."

His head turned towards the voice. Myr looked so weak and frail he feared she would vanish into thin air. Her hand inched closer to his, with the same difficulty he had. He met her halfway, their fingers interlocking upon touching and she gave his fingers a squeeze, while his thumb brushed against the back of her hand. How could such a simple gesture bring so much comfort?

"I'm glad… I was worried." he heaved.

"I'm stubborn." Myr smiled.

Edmund shook with a chuckle which then evolved into a cough. Petra, who had observed their exchange from the sidelines, came to his aid, propping him up and helping him drink some cool tea. Out of the corner of her amber eyes, she noticed the King had not released the girl's hand.

Shortly after, her charges fell into a calm slumber and she used the opportunity to check on the royal men waiting outside.

Susan sat on a bench, letting out a long sigh as she rubbed her aching feet. The last patients had been assessed and treated, everyone had had some food and something to drink, and most of them were asleep now. She knew her break would be a short one, soon she would have to go around changing bandages and reapplying ointments, so she planned on making the most out of these few minutes of peace. In terms of disaster, this had been messy but manageable, and by Aslan's will and mercy all lives had been spared and no one had been severely injured. If anything, the fire had caused mostly material damage which was easy to replace.

"Tea? You look like you could do with a strong cup."

The Queen turned to her sister with a smile and nodded.

"You've read my mind, Lu."

"What a night!" Lucy chuckled, pouring them both a steaming cup. Susan concurred with a tired nod. "It is nice to have a little rest, though, what with all that running around, trying not to bump into people, answering questions, keeping tabs on what has been done…" Speaking like that the little Queen sounded much older. "Oh, actually, have you seen Nabeela? I'd figured she would be in hysterics by now…"

"Ah, um..." Susan debated whether it was a good idea to fill Lucy in, as explaining Nabeela's whereabouts also meant explaining Peter's earlier that evening. "I think one of the workers saw her somewhere in the south wing."

"At this hour?! Who the hell goes for a midnight stroll at a time like this!"

"She was probably there earlier, Lu." Susan hoped this would be the end of that conversation.

"And you reckon she fell asleep or something? Peter won't be happ- oh! Oh.." Lucy's eyes opened wide in understanding. Susan observed, biting a laugh, as her sister's face went from sudden realisation to disgust.

"Peter was with her, that's why we found him near the hall!" Everything made sense now.

"It is the likely explanation, not that we need any." Susan commented into her cup.

Lucy picked up on her discomfort and shrugged. Spending the nights in the ruins was ill-advised in her opinion, but she understood couples were constantly looking for deserted places in search of privacy. She herself had actively plotted many escapades and had dragged Peridan to many an obscure corner of the palace for some alone time. And she had not forgotten how easy it was to get carried away in moments like that. Yet, she preferred not being confronted with the thought of her siblings in that context.

"Lu? Lucy?" Susan was waving a hand in front of her face. "You have wandered far away."

"I have, in a sense." Lucy replied with a silly smile. Susan's curiosity was piqued, judging by the glint in her eyes. "I was thinking about Peridan. Ever since we got here it has been a frequent occurrence."

Susan beamed at her. "Well, I'm not surprised; this place holds such great memories and you were so in love…!" she teased.

"Oh, shush!"

"Honest, I've never knew how you managed to convince good old Peridan to call you by name, let alone kiss you! Oh, and his face when you so much as grabbed his hand in front of everyone!" Susan laughed. "Not that I ever doubted your power of persuasion."

"Oh, soldier or not, he was a man with blood on his veins." Lucy told with an impish smirk not unlike Edmund's. "He was so cute when he was flustered!" she giggled.

"As Mother used to say; there is something irresistible in a man in uniform, in this case armour."

"Yes, no wonder Caspian made you swoon!"

"You're one to talk! I remember you were particularly smitten when Peridan wore his." Susan bumped her shoulder with Lucy's.

"Believe me, I enjoyed taking it off more!"

"Lucy!" The Queens dissolved into peals of laughter. "Good thing Peter is not around or he would have a heart attack!"

Their laughter soon quietened down and Lucy's expression became serious.

"Speaking of Peter, nobody has seen or heard of him."

"I know." Susan heaved a concerned breath. "Something tells me he went after the others, like the hotheaded, impatient moron that he is."

"We need to find them, Su, but other than the griffins and a few former soldiers, none of the men are trained to go on search parties."

Susan nodded, her brows creasing into a frown. "That is why I sent an urgent message to the castle requesting them to send anyone they can spare."

AN: This chapter practically wrote itself! I tried for it to have a good balance between the more dramatic scenes and some lighter ones, but I will let you guys be the judges of that. There were so many great scenes to write it is hard to pick a favourite.

Overall, I'm very happy with how things shaped up and I can't wait to read your reviews, so please, take a few minutes to tell me what you thought!

Cheers!