A/N: Haha...um.
Um. This chapter is kinda...cheesy. I dunno, I just don't really like it. :/
The idea for Peter being the Lion and Edmund being the Fox is solely Elecktrum's brilliant idea. I think the sword and sheild is, too...

Dangit. I'm not trying to steal, I swear - it's her brilliance, not mine. That much is apparent. ;~;
But yeah...I own nothing but this never ceasing cold. Enjoy?

Being kicked awake wasn't really how I fancied greeting the morning, but what had I been expecting? I bit back a moan of annoyance. I hated mornings. And I especially hated them if I was seeing the Narnian sun rise over a desolate, bleak Telmarine castle belonging to a tyrant. I felt myself roughly dragged to my feet, and I rolled my bleary eyes as they checked every bit of me for a concealed weapon, going as far as clapping my wrists in heavy irons before dragging me out of the room. I sneezed, a feeling of intense cold washing over me, and I wondered if what Prunaprismia had said was true. Did I have hypothermia? I didn't doubt it, but that was really the least of my problems at the moment as the guards roughly pushed and shoved me up the stairs, though I was absolutely capable of walking myself. I shot a glare at them both as I was unceremoniously slammed into a wall, and they both chuckled, clearly enjoying themselves. We turned a corner and I looked out of an open window as we passed by, wondering if I'd ever see the morning sky again. This wasn't the first time I had ever wondered this, of course, but Miraz was a little different than all the other encounters.

He wanted answers, and he was impatient, ready to strike anyone down if it would help him rise. I groaned mentally. I hated tyrants, I really did; we had had our fair share during the Golden Age, and I was quite sick of them, to say the least.

We walked somewhat silently through the corridor until we came upon a huge iron archway with two solid oak doors in the middle. Looking up at it with a vague expression of slight awe - it was huge - I was grabbed by the shoulders when it was opened and practically thrown in, chains rattling as I threw my hands out to catch myself on the marble flooring. I scowled, refusing to stay on my knees, and stood to my feet, to the soldier's slight surprise. One kicked me back down. I silently took the fall and stood up again. It went on and on like this until both guards became irritated and were in the middle of jumping on me when a low, growling voice called from the other end of the hall.

"Enough, Brackus and Tyran. I suspect our Narnian guest is not used to our way of...dealing with things." He said in a smooth, dismissive voice, but my blood boiled. I hated him already. The guards backed away almost unwillingly as I stood up once more, wondering how many more bruises I had just acquired. I knew I had a black eye - It hurt worse than anything. The false king Miraz slowly arose from his throne, cape swishing as he did so, and his Telmarine-wrought crown sat apon his brow, large and commanding. I couldn't help but think how heavy that one must be compared to the dwarven crown I myself had worn thirteen hundred years ago. The dwarf's were alot more skilled in their craft, too, I thought wryly, happily insulting Miraz inside of my head where he couldn't hear me. It was great fun, until he drew very close.

"Why do you not bow to your supiriors, boy?" He asked quietly, and rage flamed up inside me, but I held my tongue from the things it wanted so badly to say.

"I bow to no man."

"You Narnians must bow to something," He insisted, and I began to realize how he was going about his attack. He was trying to gain facts and use them to his advantage. I decided to indulge him on a few things that wouldn't really get him anywhere.

"I'd sooner fling myself before the paws of a Lion before I bowed to you." I stated simply, defiantly.

I was smartly smacked in the jaw for this, and I turned my face away, massaging it as the pain pulsed through it. Miraz looked beside himself with anger, and several of the men in the chairs around us began murmuring to each other, though I couldn't hear what they were saying. I turned back, nonchalant as he began to pace before me.

"You say that your name is Peter," He started casually, as if he had never even thought about physically harming me in any way. I nodded to answer his question.
"Yes."

He turned and glared at me full in the face.

"Liar!" He delivered a kick to my shins that nearly sent me sprawling forwards at his feet.

"Why would I lie about my own name?" I asked through clenched teeth, trying to shake off the angry pulsing of the nerves that were irritated in my legs. His eyes sparked dangerously.

"You are a human, neither Telmarine nor of Narnian blood."

I blinked. He continued triumphantly.

"There is only one record of when four humans entered this land long ago. I do not know how, or why, but they conquered the land and became its rulers." He continued to pace, despite the many gaping glances shot his way by the Telmarine officers in the room. I guessed that they had never heard this story before. Miraz continued.

"There were two kings and two queens. There are...reliable sources I have found that tell us that one of the kings was blond and light, and the other was black and dark. And you, boy, are not the High King Peter. You are King Edmund!"

A pregnant silence filled the room, and Glozelle looked at me, expression unreadable.

"Myths and legends are not stable enough to base claims upon," I countered calmly, refusing to let him know that I was not actually my brother. It was perhaps my one way of keeping hold of my brother's life and my own.

"Lies again!" The man howled, and he had just made a movement as though he were to throttle me personally, but he recovered himself when he remembered there were others in the room. He cleared his throat.

"Why do you deny this?"

"For one, if I were King Edmund, wouldn't I be much, much older than fourteen?"

Miraz seemed to think about this. It looked like hard work. He studied me carefully, rubbing his chin in a thoughtful manner. I stood beneath his heavy gaze, never looking away from his face, mind working frantically. At last, he spoke.

"I do not know how magic has preserved you and yours all these years, but I saw the queen Susan and the High King during the attack, and I nearly met him personally. You make very free with this claim that you are the Higher King. Lies and trickery, a cowards attack!" He spat, and a cold, icy anger roared up inside of me. I couldn't really describe it. It was just...frigid.

"I am no coward for protecting my brother's life with my own," I whispered so low it was barely on the air, but it seemed to resound around the room as if I had screamed it instead. "A coward is one who sits upon the throne he himself made with his own lies and wealth, having a verbal brawl with a mere fourteen year-old in chains and being bested at his own game."

I paid dearly for my words, but I was satisfied with the result, bleeding though I was. Miraz let out a scream of rage, at the end of his short fuse already, and whipped out his sword, and before I knew what was happening I had a long gash across my arm. I let a shout of agony escape me, letting the rest of it seep through my voice behind my teeth as I hissed in utter pain and satisfaction. My arm was bleeding awfully bad, but I didn't care. My blood had been shed for the sake of my brother, and that alone brought me more peace than anything but Aslan Himself could. Miraz, red in the face and breathing deeply, sheathed his sword with my blood still on it and strode back a bit, considering my words, I hoped. Glozelle stood in the corner, grimacing as blood streamed from my shoulder, and I was just thankful that he hadn't told anyone that I had tried to escape last night. I would be far worse off if he had. He met my eyes for a few seconds before he looked back to Miraz, who strode forwards again with a mad glint in his eye.

"Where are the Narnians hiding?" He asked, completely blowing past his previous strategy of trying to trap me in my own words, and letting me know full on that he wasn't going to give up easily.

Neither was I.

"I tell no one nothing that is not meant for his or her ears to hear."
I received a stunning blow to the face once again.

"Where are the Narnians hiding?" He asked again, voice shaking with anger.

"I tell no one--"

I was hit again. Really, it felt like my face was going to eventually just melt off from the pain.

"Where are the Narnians hiding?"
"I TELL NO ONE--!"

I was slapped again. Tears of pain leaked from the corners of my eyes, but I didn't really care all the same. This was one war I refused to lose.

"Tell me; Where is your brother?" Miraz asked in a blank, calm voice, much unlike the one he had just used previously. I stayed silent, fearing for the man's sanity.

"Where is he? He's not here, is he?" He asked again, and I began to let my eyebrows crease together slightly. This was strange.

"No, of course he's not--"

"SILENCE." Miraz bellowed, looking ready to strike me again. He calmed himself once more and began down his strange road again.

"He is with the Narnians, waiting in fear for our oncoming army, not caring that you are here and not there. He doesn't need you, does he? He wouldn't care if you died in the onslaught of the archers - he didn't even look back when you called his name."

I stared at him. This was ridiculous. Peter would never...

...Would he?

"Here we have a High King and a lesser King. How does that usually play out?"

"I am no lesser a King than my brother." I countered, not out of pride, I hoped, but for the sake of how Aslan had crowned us and His words.

"Yes, yes," He said impatiently, glaring at my defiance, but recovering himself once again. The Telmarines stared in total awe of what was taking place before their eyes.

"But he never came back, did he?"

"Well, if he had, I would be with him and not here with you listening to this complete rubbish, wouldn't I?"

Miraz scowled as a few of the council members snorted with quiet laughter behind their hands, and others merely looked on, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at their lips.

"But you /are/ here," He observed, pointing his finger. "And he didn't come back. Didn't turn his head the slightest bit. I saw everything from above, and I watched you shot down and him run away--"

"You fail to acknowledge that it was you and yours that shot me down in the first place, sir."

A few others snorted behind their hands, unable to contain themselves. Glozelle looked about ready to crack up as well. Their lord and king was being out-foxed by the fox himself.

/Flashback, thirteen hundred years ago by Narnian time./


"King Edmund, keep your sword down lower!"

"...King Peter, shield up! Shield up!"

Both boys complied grudgingly, tired and worn to a frazzle by the summer heat as their general insisted on making them swordplay in even the harshest conditions. ("How else do you expect to meet that sudden charge of the enemy in the high of sun-dance, or the chill of moon-bane?")

The dark haired boy let out a shout as he swung his sword at his light haired brother, who blocked it and smoothly returned the attack with a cry of his own.
Block left, block right. Dodge, jump left, jump right, duck. Parry blow.

Edmund swung at his brother, a loud clang of metal echoing across the training grounds as it was blocked.
Block left, block right. Dodge, jump left, jump right, duck. Parry blow.
Peter jabbed at the younger boy, nearly knocking the shield from his hands.

Block left, block right. Dodge, jump left, jump right, duck. Parry blow.
This went on for what seemed an eternity before Edmund dropped his sword and fell to the grass.

"I'm done," He gasped, panting heavily as the sun beat down on them all. Peter nodded mutely and fell right down beside him, much to the general's chagrin.

"Kings, kings," He muttered, running his fingers through his braided hair. "You must not do this."

"Centaur abilities and human capabilities are not nearly the same, Oreius," The younger boy panted, and again, Peter nodded along with him, looking at the sky. Oreius sighed.

"They are more alike than you know, King Edmund, but since you are to be mule-headed about it anyway, I suppose we will stop for now."

Both boys mentally sighed with relief, and watched the clouds go by. Much later, Oreius came down to lay beside them; a very hard process for a horse anyway, much less a Centaur, and getting up again is a much more complicated affair. The two brothers looked up at him as he crossed his arms, murmuring distractedly.

"Back-to-back, side-to-side..."
"...I'm sorry?" The blond asked, slightly amused. Oreius usually never daydreamed like this. Then both boys realized that they were tangled in an embrace.

"Oh," they both said at once, and broke apart. Oreius seemed to snap out of his daze at their movement.

"No my kings, don't, don't you ever do that," He sounded a little panicked, so they both sat up, and Peter reached out to touch his brothers shoulder to calm the centaur.

"...General?" He asked curiously, a little concerned. The noble centaur shook his head.

"Never, ever break apart, whatever you do. Embrace one another. Hold one another so you don't fall. For one is the other's very life. King Edmund, you are your brothers shield. Keep him protected and safe when he is vulnerable, and drag him back when he is weary and begins to go astray. You are the fox; You are smaller and slighter, giving you the advantage of surprise when it comes to combat. Use your intellect and knowledge to keep him from falling. King Peter, you are your brother's sword. Guard him with your blade, strike true and justly when harm threatens to befall him, and never, ever separate from him. You are the lion; You are taller and more masculine, giving you the advantage of strength in dire situations. Protect him with your mighty stance and fierce teeth, keep him from slipping away. For one cannot live if the other does not also have breath. Separated, you are weak, and will perish. United, no wrong can you do, nor can you do anything unjust without the other to bring you back again. Always back-to-back and side-to-side, my Kings."

Both boys stared at the Centaur, drinking in every word with amazement at his wisdom. No wonder Centaurs were able to read the stars. They were far too insightful. Edmund blew out a low whistle and looked at Peter wryly.

"A sword, huh? Get protecting then, brother."

And he jumped on him, full-armor and all.

Peter laughed past his strangled yelp of surprise, catching Edmund on the arm and throwing him over his side, where he in turn leapt on him.

"Protect yourself, sir fox!"

Oreius watched the going-ons with both pride and a wry smile. Both would be strong in the other, he knew, and he felt no hesitation when he firmly decided that neither of them would ever break apart unless it were an extremely bad fall. He prayed there never would be such a fall, though, as he slowly got to his feet and continued to watch from a distance, listening to Edmund's howls of laughter and Peter's great roars of glee as he pinned his younger brother firmly against the grass.

"You are mine, sheild of wisdom!" He crowed, preparing to tickle his brother 'till there was no breath left in either of them.

And then, just when all hope seemed lost for him, the smaller King grabbed a handful of mud and slapped it into his captors surprised face.

"Shut up, lion!"

And thus began the first and best mud fight Narnia had ever seen in all her days.

/End of flashback./

And fall we did, I realized, much to my despair as I gathered that Peter was not alone in fault. I hadn't done nearly enough to keep him from straying.

It was all my fault...again.

Miraz growled, silencing the laughter as he strode forwards again.

"Do not patronize me, boy. Your life hangs by a very thin thread, one that I happen to be holding right now."

"I am well aware of that."

The man seemed really annoyed by all of this, but he calmed himself once more and began trying at sympathy again.

"He left without you. He put you up on the high tower - to set you up. He was trying to kill you, right from the start."

I opened my mouth to argue, but then I wasn't so sure all of a sudden. What if Miraz was speaking the truth? What if...

...What if Peter really didn't want me behind him like he had so many years ago? What if he was annoyed and jealous that when his time was up, I'd be the next High King in his place? I truly and honestly didn't even want to touch that crown, but what if Peter thought I did...?

Oh sweet Lion, I was in trouble.

Miraz seemed to see my weakening barriers and lept upon it, seizing his opportunity to only weaken me further.

"He's afraid of what you'll do if you get his crown. He is absolutely mortified of the possibility that you might be a better king than he."

I felt myself beginning to crumble beneath Miraz's heavy hand. Maybe it was true. I certainly wouldn't put it past him, now that he was against Aslan and everything that he had ever believed in.

I then felt cold, frigid emptiness where the other part of my soul had been, and I was left alone in it. I dropped my head, wondering if Peter could even feel my side of his heart caving in on itself, or if he had chosen to ignore it.

"What do you want?" I asked softly, daring myself not to break down. If Peter really was gone...

Oh Aslan, how was I to live apart from him?

Miraz smiled a slow, mock-fatherly smile, and I hated it.

"Just give me the location, son. Where are the Narnians assembled?" He asked quickly, quietly, understandingly...

I paused, looking up into his face. He was so evil. It was so wrong. This felt so wrong...

"...Aslan's How. They're all inside the How."

Triumph flitted across Miraz's hard face, and I felt myself despairing. It was all gone, now. I had just willingly given over to the evil that terrorized the land.

And it wasn't really the first time that had ever happened, either.

But why should I care? Peter was a lost cause. He hated me enough to leave me when I needed him most.

He hadn't even tried.

I felt sick. I felt angry. I felt confused. Miraz took a few steps back, and studied me carefully.

"You know exactly where this How is?"

I nodded numbly. He looked beside himself with glee. He came close again, and stared right into my eyes.

"How are you with a blade?"

A spark ignited somewhere inside of me, and he seemed to notice, too. He looked very pleased.

"I have half a mind to swear you in to our race...would you consider?"

I blinked, and distractedly nodded, millions of thoughts buzzing through my head incessantly.

Everything I ever believed in just fell shattered on the cold stone, like glass, into millions of tiny pieces, never to be put together again.

Miraz smiled warmly, and nodded to the guards in the corner.

"I will await your decision patiently. Take as long as you need."
And then I found myself being dragged slightly from the courtroom, broken and in complete mental agony.

OHHHHHH--This is the review song that does-n't ennnnddd....it just goes on and on MY FRIENDS....some people started reading it, not knowing what it was...and now they'll review my fic just because--this is the review song that does-n't end...

-SINGS-