A/N: Heh heh heh...I couldn't resist the temptation of putting the next chapter up. You both made me feel all warm and fuzzy, though I'd like to hear more of what I could have improved upon rather than that I should update. I knew that already. :P
Oh well. Thanks for your reviews, you two. ^^
I hope this chapter satisfies. I, erm...I have the whole story written out, actually. I wrote it back this summer right after the movie came out. So, I kinda had this idea before anyone else, you might say. xD

I hope you all have a merry, merry Christmas. ^^ And if you don't celebrate Christmas - happy holidays.

:P

And such.

Enough of my rambling. Once again, I don't have a beta, and if there is anything I could improve, PLEASE say so.

I hear my name shouted behind me, I see the dark shapes in the air go down, and I could have died right there.

I watch as my only brother, my sarcastic, snarky, and sweet all at once sibling plummet down to the depths of the frigid water on the other side of the castle gate, and I scream.

I screamed so loud I thought my throat had torn right open and bled, but I didn't care. I had just killed my brother, my friend, and the other half of my soul.

And why had I done it?

Tears threatened to fall as I kicked my horse into reverse, and the stallion obeyed, swerving around and galloping towards the closed gates. I couldn't feel anything - everything was all a blurred mess of color and sound. I had to see him for myself, to make sure he was alive, to make sure that he was sitting on the bank when I got there, ready to call me "A right bloody git for a brother," and then come back to the How with us to reinstate the army and go over the plans once more.

I had to make sure I apologized to him more than was necessary, to tell him how sorry I was until he was deaf in the ear, as I would settle for no less.

I almost made it to the gates, too, but Susan caught up to me, arms around Caspian's waist as she held on for dear life while Destriar, the frightened mare, reared up. She looked beside herself with anxiety and pain.

"Peter," She breathed quietly, going sheet-white. "Where's Edmund?"

Funny, how often those words were spoken to me when my brother was lying half-dead somewhere, waiting to be found, as he was every time. But this time, we might have been too late.

Her expression of horror deepened as she looked to the sky and saw no Gryphon circling above, but several arrows embedded into the cracks in the stone, and several broken shafts upon the ground. I leapt off the horse and ran to the closed gates, forgetting that there was an entire Telmarine army on the inside as I rattled the bars furiously, intent on mourning for my brother properly. It was my fault he died, anyways.

Susan let out a few soft, choked sobs as she leaned against Caspian, who rubbed her arm awkwardly, but he looked almost as pained as she. The raven-haired queen sat up again, tears flooding down her face as she managed to choke out,

"Peter, we have to go back to the How."

"Not leaving him," I snarled past my own tears, tearing at the solid iron bars that blocked my way. Suddenly, the sound of shouts above us, then the sound of arrows whizzing overhead told us to run or die. Regretfully, I leapt back onto my horse, spurring it onwards after Destriar, and I looked up at the moon.

If this was the price Narnia had to pay for her High King to finally find Aslan again, then Lion's Mane, I wanted what was given as payment to come back and cuff me over the head.

My eyes hardened noticeably, and Susan, who had looked back as tears flooded down her face, noticed with apprehension.

Aslan killed my brother to get through to me. Was this how he treated His own subjects? Was this some kind of joke?

I could have screamed, but even that wouldn't have satisfied my intense anger towards The Lion for shedding innocent blood instead of my own.

My heart continued to bleed that night, completely open and exposed without its other half, the half that belonged to Edmund.

-------

"Get him, get him!" The man barked quickly, gesturing towards the water and looking at me expectantly. I rolled my eyes at him and stripped off my heavy armour, leaping in head-first and swimming into the darkness below.

Why did I allow myself to be so pushed around and prodded by this false king? Of course I was his army general, and he had every right, but I couldn't help but wonder as I swam through the dark water after the unconscious figures ahead of me.

Was he as true to his word as he said he was? Was he really making Narnia a better place, or was he being a cruel, ruthless dictator, who cared nothing about the lives of those in his way as he conquered the land, spilling more blood than necessary?

I felt myself leaning more toward the second theory as I continued to swim downwards after the dark shapes, wondering if I was going to be able to catch them and then bring them up in time, all in one breath. I was now in arms reach. I had no idea why the king wanted these rebels, but all I knew was that the king was to be obeyed. Gripping the figure's shoulders, I began to pull them upwards, and only then did I realise that one was pinned to the other. I cursed mentally, and felt myself going dizzy from lack of air. I had to hurry or die. Miraz took no excuses, not even death. I ripped the arrow shaft from the Gryphon-monster, allowing the human's sleeve to come un-caught so I could pull him up. I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the creature as it continued sinking rapidly to the bottom, but army generals aren't supposed to feel sympathy for the dead of the other side, so I swam upwards as fast as possible, unable to see anything but the growing light of the moon spilling down on the surface above me.

In my last bit of strength, I burst through the dark water, gasping, coughing and spluttering and holding the Narnian by the arm. I swam over towards the shore, happy for the chance to be out of the water, and also for the oppertunity to get a closer look at whom I had just rescued, if he was still alive. I dragged him up the shoreline, shivering in the chill night air as I let him drop onto the stone while the queen Prunaprismia bent over the figure, her red curls spilling out from behind her ear.

With a jolt of shock, I realised that I had just rescued not a man, but a mere boy of perhaps fourteen. I had no idea what Miraz could possibly want with a boy that age, but I knew it couldn't be good for the teen, whatever it was, and I found myself sympathizing a little more every minute with the creatures who had been chased into hiding. I was unable to keep my sympathetic attitude much longer, though, as Miraz himself strode up beside me, looking also with interest at the figure on the ground, but it seemed to be a hungry, evil interest, and I shivered, able to pass it off as chill rather than fright.

"Well done, Glozelle. This will serve us well."

"We're not even sure he is still alive yet, my lord," I pointed out, and Miraz rolled his eyes, twisting his finger around his coarse, black beard as he continued thinking.

"What do you think my wife is doing, then?"

I looked again and saw her, scared and frightened of her husband as it was, and being forced into something she completely didn't understand seemed to make her even more nervous as she felt for a pulse on the boy's neck. Silence filled the court. I had to admit, she took me by surprise when she let out a yell and brought her fists down on his chest, making him lurch slightly before he began spluttering up large amounts of water. She seemed to be slightly relieved, and she busied herself with forcing him to sit up, and he didn't even seem completely conscious as she began looking him over, rather like a mother to a child, before smiling grimly and allowing him to lay back against the rocks again as she stood up.

"He will live," She confirmed, brushing her hair from her eyes as she continued watching him, "But he will probably end up having hypothermia or something worse, as he was quite basically shot down and exposed to freezing water longer than necessary and almost drowned," She shot a glare at Miraz, and the king only chuckled at her motherly antics. "Do not get too attached to him, Prunie," He said fondly, striding over and holding her gently by the shoulders while brushing her hair behind her ear. "Because if he refuses to co-operate, he dies." He aimed a kick to the teen's side, and he let out a moan of pain as a metal-clad boot was suddenly run into his ribs, and Miraz grinned cruelly while Pruniprismia shied away form her husband. I grimaced at all that was going on, and I just stood, shivering from head to toe as I watched everything happen around me.

"Glozelle!" Miraz barked back at me, and I was forced to look somewhat respectful in my miserable state as he turned to follow his wife. "You take the kid somewhere we can find him later, and then you're free to do as you please until the morning." He added sarcastically, and beckoned for his guards to follow. I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue in a childish manner behind his back as the great oak doors closed again, and I was left alone with the Narnian.

"Alright," I mumbled, dropping down to my knees to practically drag the teen down to Miraz's beloved dungeons. But to my amazement, he gripped my arm and pulled himself up, though albiet a bit wobbly, he stood.

"Where are we going?" He asked quietly, not fearfully, as if he was waiting more for a command than for an answer, trying to balance properly without falling over. Stunned, I stood up with him, floundering for words.

"T-The dungeons..."

"Right."

And he took a brave step, but it was rather pointless as he promptly pitched forwards, unsteady and unfocused. I caught hold of his arm, but he shook his head in protest, eyes not entirely focused on one point, I noticed ruefully.

"What's your name, kid?" I asked aloud, helping him to stand again. I allowed him to lean against me slightly as we walked, and I noticed with some surprise that he was not much shorter than myself.

"...Peter," He replied, looking at me curiously from behind wet, black locks of hair. "And you?"

I let out a laugh that rang around the corridor we were walking through, but he stayed silent, and I replied, grinning slightly, "Why should you be interested in the one who's about to jail you?"

"If its all the same to you, I'd rather us treat one another like equals and men, rather than jailer and prisoner," He said softly, not tearing his eyes from my face, and I could have almost believed that he was actually twenty-five rather than fourteen.

"You speak with a wisdom far beyond your years," I noted, transfixed by this most unusual teenager, and he let a slow smirk cross his features.

"I hear that alot..."

He spoke of it as if it were some ironic joke that he and a few others would only know of, and so I let it be, but I still had a question to answer.

"Well, since you asked; I'm Glozelle, king Miraz's army general."

He seemed satisfied by this answer, and neither of us said any more as we continued our underground trek, both of us sopping wet, but not complaining. Not much later, he was walking independently and with long, swift strides, and I had to double my pace to keep up. I was amazed by this unusual youth, to say the least, and I almost didn't want to believe that he was not seen in Miraz's favor, and that he was a captive rather than a captain, but my loyalty to the Telmarines forced me into obeying my king, not my enemy. We soon entered the abandoned, cold room, and he walked inside casually, looking around him with interest. I was flatly astounded by his attitude toward almost certain death, and I was caught off guard when he began to unstrap his sword from his belt. He caught my questioning look and smiled a bit.

"Aren't most prisoners supposed to be weaponless, sir?"

I finally caught on, and I shook my head, grinning at my own stupidity as he unstrapped his sword and his knife and various other weapons and placed them calmly into my hands. I then shut the cell door, carrying the items with respect as he watched me go, a grim look in his eye.

"Glozelle," He called, and I turned around, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity. He seemed unsure of himself.

"...Remember me when things get...rough...won't you?"

I caught on, and I felt my hardened heart softening dramatically and rapidly at the thought of what Miraz was planning to do the next morning, and I nodded quickly, taking a torch from the walls.

"That I will, Peter," I swore, and I turned and left him in the dark.

I didn't see the lean figure drop to the floor in the corner, pulling off his boot and taking a sharp, clean dagger from the inside and examining it carefully in the moonlight.

"Oh Peter," He whispered, running his fingers across it tiredly, looking out of the window longingly. "I hope this works."

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