A/N: Anxiously awaiting how you guys are going to take this chapter and what it introduces!! May or may not be a great chapter. Evie had her CT scan today, so I was distracted. But enjoy.

A/N 2: This chapter has been revised and extended slightly.

Part Seven:

"You're in here again, Lu. This can't be healthy, you know."

Susan settled herself down at the foot of the Stone Table beside her younger sister. Lucy smiled lightly at the jest, but didn't immediately reply. She had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't heard Susan enter, but now that she was here, Lucy had an overwhelming urge to confide in her sibling.

"Su? When those soldiers came and told us Peter had died, did you get angry?" Lucy turned to meet her sister's gaze. "I mean, at Peter for leaving us, or at the Army for taking him?"

For a moment, Susan didn't respond. Her eyes glassed over as if she was reliving that dreadful morning. "I was angry, Lu," she said. "But not at Peter and not at the Army. I think I was most angry at myself."

"Yourself? Why?"

Susan sighed. "I suppose it was because I wished I could have been closer to Peter and I thought that I would never have a chance to tell him some of the things I had been meaning to," she said quietly. "Because we're the oldest, we always seemed to go head to head trying to do right by you and Ed."

Propping her feet up on the stone step, she drew her knees to her chest and hugged them. "Do you remember when we first entered Narnia? And Ed went to the Witch and I told Peter it was all his fault? We had moments like that an awful lot."

Lucy frowned. "I don't remember you guys being like that…"

Susan laughed, "That's because you weren't meant to witness that. It was usually over campaigns I felt were too dangerous for my baby brother, but that he thought Ed was ready for. Or battles I didn't think you should travel to, but that Peter insisted you go to." She sighed. "Don't get me wrong, we love each other dearly, but we spent so much time arguing sometimes that when I thought he was dead, I was devastated that I hadn't told him more often how much I loved him."

Lucy hugged her sister to her.

"When I heard the soldiers I didn't get angry," Lucy leaned her head against Susan. "I thought to myself he wouldn't have died if we had still been here and for a moment, just a short moment, I thought I would be angry at Aslan for letting us leave." She let out a puff of breath. "I just couldn't be angry at Aslan, though. I didn't know what to think really. That's why I ran. It was hard for me to imagine Peter falling, he was always so…so…"

"Magnificent."

Both girls jumped. "Ed! Don't scare us like that," Susan said, a hand clutched to her chest as she waited for her heart to calm down.

Lucy nodded at his insertion. "Yes, though, he was always so magnificent here in Narnia and I just couldn't see him falling in a muddy hole somewhere in Greece," Lucy said, leaning back now that the surprise was past.

Edmund settled down on the ground in front of Susan and Lucy. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," he said, looking more at Susan than Lucy. "When we got the news about Peter, I was angry at myself too," he said. "Not because I didn't think he knew how much I loved him, and Su, I'm sure he knew even though you two do bicker so…" he trailed off as she smacked him soundly on the back of the head. "No, I was angry that I wasn't there with him. Stupid, I know, but I was."

Lucy patted her brother on the shoulder. "It wasn't stupid, Ed. You were almost always with him here in Narnia. And even though he got hurt, more than any of us actually, he always had you there with him to support him."

Edmund nodded. "And I felt so horrible that I wasn't there to support him this time." He hesitated. "Actually, that is part of what Pete and I discussed that day in the woods; when we were different the next morning. Perhaps talking to him about your feelings would help, Su."

The young woman nodded. "I plan to, just as soon as he gets his High King self back here for me to do it."

The three sat in silence, Edmund leaning back against Susan's shins as she hugged her knees and Lucy leaning into Edmund's side. "Do you suppose we'll stay in Narnia a long time again?" Lucy asked suddenly.

Edmund looked down at her upturned face. "I don't know," he said. "I would like to, though. I feel more alive here. In England, everything is so different and we are so powerless. It's hard." He looked backward at Susan. "I think that was even harder for Peter. Going from King to foot soldier, he had to suddenly follow orders and not give them."

Susan sighed. "I like it here too, but I get the feeling we really should live in our own world. If we were meant to live here, why wouldn't we have been born here and grown up here? I don't know, don't get me wrong, I love being in Narnia. But I also miss Mum."

"Yeah, Mum," Edmund said. "She's the only thing that would draw me back to England. I wish she could come to Narnia and we could all be done with England forever."

Lucy shifted at his side. "We should ask Aslan why that couldn't happen," she said, a tinge of excitement in her voice. "Maybe she could come live here. Should we ask him, Ed? Should we?"

Her brother frowned. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind you asking, Lu. But don't get your hopes up. And we haven't even seen him, perhaps he's isn't coming this time." The mood was getting too somber, so Susan jostled both siblings.

"Come on," she said, rising and dusting herself off. "Let's go explore this place. I know Glenstorm showed you the preparations for battle, Ed, and I know we've already gone through and located weak points, but let's really look around. Those paintings were exquisite and I'd like a better look at them."

The three Pevensies hurried along the corridor and soon were immersed in the artwork on the cavern walls.

Caspian wearily tugged at the makeshift sling Peter had fashioned from the bottom portion of his tunic. The knot was beginning to wear on his neck and he couldn't help but fidget as it started to chafe the skin.

He was roused from his thoughts when Peter let out a groan. "I felt rain," the latter explained. "And we haven't found the cavern yet. I do hope I remembered right and it's in this direction."

The two began to search with more earnest, separating slightly, but keeping each other in sight. Suddenly, Peter called out, "Caspian, I've found it!" He was waving from a nearby copse of trees. The trees, upon closer inspection, were shielding the entrance to an underground cavern.

"Wow," Caspian said. "This is rather large. I had thought you meant a small cave, just big enough for us to get into, but this is more like a chamber. Is this natural, do you think?"

Peter frowned. "I don't know," he muttered. "I never really thought about that. I mean, Ed and I would explore things like this, but more to meet new Narnians than to examine the caves themselves. This actually used to be the home to a rock spirit. His name was Tobias and he was quite the character."

"Tree spirits, water spirits, rock spirits," Caspian sighed in exasperation. "Was there any part of nature that did not have a spirit? I'll never remember all this." He looked over Peter's shoulder. "This Tobias must have been quite an artist though."

The young High King cocked his head to the side. "No, I don't remember seeing any artwork, why did you say that?" He turned around as he asked, deeming to follow Caspian's gaze, and his eyes widened. "That wasn't there the last time we entered here!"

Moving forward, the two drew up to the back of the cavern. A small area had seemingly been chiseled out to form a recess. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to frame an inscription.

"In peril, he shall call them,
and quickly they shall come.
One like stalwart rocks,
one like a gentle breeze,
one has learned acceptance,
and one overflows with faith.
The Four shall impart a special gift
upon the One who called,
and when he can wield the blade,
he shall bring balance to all."

Peter's eyes shifted to Caspian as they finished reading the inscription. "That sounds like some sort of prophecy," the young Prince said in confusion. "And it sounds strangely to do with us."

The High King nodded in agreement. "That it does. I wonder what this gift is, though. It doesn't really say. I can understand the call, you blew the horn, and a blade, well I don't know about that either. But I can see you bringing balance," Peter hesitated before adding. "I imagine a Telmarine leading the Narnians would indicate balance. And if we win this, it will come to be."

Caspian looked up, his gaze sharp. "What do you mean?"

Peter sighed. "I get the feeling we, my brother and sisters and I, aren't here to become the rulers of Narnia all over again, Caspian. We had our time and it was a Golden Age. Narnia needs a new ruler for a new time." He turned around and looked out toward the entrance of the cave where it was now pouring down rain. "I suppose I also didn't tell you about my weakness because I knew, as soon as I met you, that you had a destiny. I feared it would leave no place for me."

He turned back. "Bit jealous, really," he said with a sad smile.

Caspian, fiercely loyal as he was, shook his head. "I would never dream of taking your place, King Peter," he said, intentionally throwing in the title. "I will follow you until the day you leave, or until the day you deem I'm ready for such a role."

Peter felt a weight lift from his chest and was momentarily surprised by it. He hadn't realized just how worried he had been that Caspian would move in and take his place, leaving him to figure out where he belonged.

He had no way of knowing if his time as High King was nearing an end, but when he thought about how he would feel if it did, he found he wasn't as angry as he would have imagined. He was less worried about the title than he was about losing the ability to help people.

"Something is still bothering you," Caspian said. "Will you tell me?"

Peter hesitated again. Why should he? Sure, he and Caspian were depending on each other for protection, but why should he bare his deepest fears to this relative stranger? For a moment, he wasn't going to, but then he remembered how much better he'd felt after speaking with Edmund about his fears.

"I worry that once I give up my place, I'll be unable to help people," he said. "Ever since the first time we sat on our thrones in Cair Paravel and heard our first session of court, I've made it my life's work to aid those in need. I've done much of it through battle, but not all. My time back home was hard for me because I was nobody … don't dispute it, I really was…"

Caspian stopped shaking his head in the negative at that. "You are who you make yourself," he said to Peter. "If you want to be magnificent in your world, I'm sure you can find a way."

Peter slumped to the ground. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like it."

Caspian sat as well. "I don't know your world, but I'm getting to know you and I don't think you're one to give up. Not from what I've seen."

"No, I'm not," Peter answered. "Thanks for reminding me." He looked back up at the inscription. "I'm not sure what the gift is, but I get the feeling it isn't something material, since we have nothing to give you. At least, I don't think we do."

With a pained grunt, Caspian twisted toward the cavern mouth. "The rain is already slowing. It doesn't usually last long. Perhaps we should be going. We are close to Cair Paravel and could reach there by nightfall."

Glad for the change in topic, Peter nodded and stood shakily. "I feel like a very old man," he quipped, listening as his joints popped and his back cracked. "I wonder if Lu's cordial can cure weary bones."

The effectiveness of Lucy's cordial had been weighing on his mind for awhile now. He couldn't help but wonder if the cordial would work on a wound not sustained in Narnia. Or on a wound that was already so old. Or on whatever damage was causing the weakness in his legs. So many questions and only a small drop of liquid would be able to answer them.

The two rode in the dwindling rain until the trees thinned to nothing and the horses slowed their gait as they plodded through a sandy beach. Peter turned his gaze upwards and let out a dismayed gasp. "Cair Paravel…" he whispered, looking at what was once a magnificent palace overlooking the sea and was now no more than stone ruins.

Caspian slowed his mount to a stop beside Peter. "I heard it was many weeks before the castle Cair Paravel fell," he said. "They did not go down easily. You would have been proud of their bravery."

Peter nodded, still speechless. It had been his home for years in Narnia, and seeing the Cair in such a state was heartbreaking. The beautiful halls and gardens, the four thrones of prophecy, the glass roof and intricate columns – all destroyed.

"We'll have to walk from here," Peter said, dismounting carefully before guiding Caspian down. "Soon, my friend, we will feel better." Caspian grumbled a quiet "I hope so" under his breath and Peter chuckled. "Me too."

They took a winding path from the beach to the ruins. Peter remembered many a beautiful evening when he and Lucy would run down the path to watch the sunset. Now the path was overgrown and barely passable, and the recent rain hadn't helped any, making the grass beneath their feet slick and slippery.

And Peter and Caspian were definitely not running. They were both pulling stamina from somewhere down by their feet, since they'd used just about all they had already.

Peter kept a tight hold on his sore torso and grumbled under his breath about great castles having to overlook the sea from a "ruddy cliff-top" while Caspian muttered something quite similar about Cair Paravel being designed by some flying Narnian that didn't have to scale the side of a mountain to get to it.

About two-thirds of the way to the top, Peter slipped on a leaf-strewn rock and scrambled to regain his balance. Reacting to the other young man's fall, Caspian threw out an arm to steady Peter.

He'd moved automatically, but regretted it when pain zipped through his shoulder. Caspian had steadied Peter, all right, but with the wrong arm.

"Thank you," Peter said. He quickly frowned and added, "Are you all right?" seeing that the Prince's face was scrunched up and his eyes closed as he worked to steady his breathing.

After a moment, Caspian nodded. "F…fine. Just, reflexes aren't always so good," he said slowly. "I'm glad to have helped you; I just wish I'd used my other arm."

Peter cringed. "Do you need to rest? Do you want me to look at it again? Do you…"

Holding up a hand, Caspian stalled Peter in mid-tirade. "No, King Peter," he said. "I'd much rather get off this path and locate your sister's cordial."

Nodding, Peter turned and the two more cautiously than before continued up the path.

Reaching the top, they paused a moment to catch their breath and look out to the sea. It trailed off into the horizon and they watched as the sky began to take on the bright colors of sunset.

Turning away from the edge of the cliff, Peter took in the sight of the ruins of Cair Paravel. His heart ached as he looked at the tumbled stones, half-destroyed walls and overgrown gardens. In his mind's eye, he could see the halls and gardens that had been his home for fifteen years. He could see it as clearly as if it was just yesterday. He clenched his hands at his side, his nails digging into his palms as he fought back the memories.

Beside him, Caspian was looking around. "I can tell this was a beautiful place, once."

Peter nodded tightly. "It was. It was one of the most beautiful places in Narnia. The gardens were tended to by the fauns and the tree spirits. The streams and pools and ponds were clean and clear-flowing thanks to the water spirits. Every night, music would float through the gardens and echo through the hallways. The naiads in the sea would sing to greet the sun every morning." He shook his head. "This hurts. It was my home for fifteen years, Caspian."

The Prince laid his good hand on Peter's shoulder "I can't imagine what you must be feeling right now. Do you need a moment?"

Peter took a deep breath and shook his head. "No, thank you, Caspian. We need to find that hidden chamber."

"Do you know where to look?" Caspian asked.

Peter looked around, trying to imagine how the castle looked in his day and figure out where they were. The path that they had just climbed … that had led to the balcony that overlooked the cove and the beach. That balcony had been just off the throne room, which meant that the dais holding the four thrones would have been slightly ahead and off to the right.

He stepped forward past several small piles of rocks that would have been the pillars that framed the doors leading onto the balcony. Caspian trailed him as he turned slowly to the right, spotting what remained of a stone platform with three steps leading up to it. The marble was cracked and chipped, but still sound enough to support their weight.

Peter led the way up to the platform, climbing the three steps. On the platform stood four small piles of stone, arranged in groups of two with a larger space between them. Peter stared at them for a moment, remembering, before he walked over to the one closest to his left hand. He stood there for a moment before turning so his back was to the pile of stone.

"King Peter?" Caspian asked, seeing the solemn look that came over the other boy's face.

Peter glanced to his right and imagined Edmund sitting there, dressed in his royal robes. Then he glanced to his left and could picture Susan and Lucy sitting in their thrones, garbed in their rich gowns with their beautiful crowns gracing their heads.

"This was the throne room," Peter said softly. "Here on this dais were the four thrones of prophecy. Edmund, myself, Susan and Lucy. Above us the glass and crystal ceiling and lining the hall the marble and gold inlaid statues." He sighed again.

Caspian nodded in understanding and gave his companion a moment before stepping up beside him and resting his hand on his shoulder again. "King Peter, we don't have much time. Do you know where to look for the treasure chamber?"

Peter slowly nodded. "I have some thoughts. It would have to be on this level, not only because all of the private rooms and suites were on the upper levels, but because this level is all that is left. There are no walls left, which means it wasn't built in a passage designed to connect the rooms, or your ancestors would have found it. And the legend says only the Kings and Queens of Old could find it; that implies that it's here somewhere. This was where we spent most of our time."

Caspian looked around at what had been the throne room. "Somewhere here? But everything is overgrown. We don't have time to cut away all the debris and brush to find it."

Peter thought hard. "The story Trufflehunter told said that Mr. Tumnus was one of the last to escape the castle. He was one of Lucy's best friends, and our most trusted advisor beside Oreius, our centaur general. If he was the one who planned the treasure chamber, he'd put it somewhere where he would know we'd find it if we ever returned. Somewhere only we would think to look."

His eyes roamed what was left of the room, but if he was honest with himself, there was a very good chance that the treasure chamber had already been discovered. That would explain how Susan's horn had ended up in the hands of Caspian's professor thirteen hundred years later.

Somewhere only we would think to look. If it was hidden in the walls anyone might have found it. No, I have to believe that it's still here. But where?

Nothing was left of the room except the floor…could it be an underground chamber? The Telmarines wouldn't think to look for one there. There were storage cellars and such, but if Peter was right, the chamber would be buried deeper than any other chamber.

"Check the floor, Caspian. Look for any stone that might be able to be moved."

"An underground chamber?" the Prince asked, moving off the dais and beginning to check the exposed stones.

Peter nodded.

Slowly, the two of them combed every inch of exposed floor, brushing aside the leaves and vines to reveal more of it. All of the stones, however, were still tightly joined together, so closely that there was no way any of them could be moved to conceal a hidden chamber.

Peter slumped as he realized that there was no sign of a hidden chamber. "Damn. It may have already been discovered."

Caspian sighed. "I am sorry, King Peter."

Peter's eyes fell on the dais again and he suddenly stiffened, making his wound pull painfully. "Wait…there's one place we didn't look." He headed up to the dais again. The thrones couldn't have been moved…they were solid marble inlaid with gold. The floor?

Carefully, he checked the stones around the four thrones, starting with his own. Nothing. He slumped again and moved to stand between the two sets of thrones, his foot kicking at the dirt that had gathered on the stones.

He froze as something caught his eye. The light of the setting sun reflected off the marble floor and a small design seemed to be etched into the stone. With difficulty, he knelt on the stone and brushed the rest of the dirt away, revealing the design. "Caspian, I found it!"

The Prince hurried up and knelt beside Peter. "What is that?"

"Our seal. The seal of the Kings and Queens of Old," Peter said, his fingers tracing the etched seal. "We each had a signet ring with this seal, and we used it anytime we signed a document that had our joint approval on it. My sword and shield," he pointed out each piece of the design as he mentioned it, "Susan's bow, arrows, and horn. Lucy's cordial and dagger. The broken wand of Jadis, which was Edmund's personal seal. Aslan's image, and the crown to represent our royal status."

He felt around the edge of the stone the seal was embossed into, looking for some kind of catch or lever that would allow him to open it. The stone appeared to be more loosely set than the others around it, although it was subtle and unless someone actually felt around it the way he was, it wasn't obvious to the naked eye. After a moment, his finger brushed over what felt like a small indentation in the stone. Frowning, he pressed down on it and there was a grinding noise.

He and Caspian scrambled back quickly as the stone, about half the size of a grown man, rose upward about three inches and stayed there. Peter and Caspian exchanged looks before putting their hands underneath the stone and pulling. Despite their wounds, the adrenaline and anticipation of being healed gave them the strength to lift the stone out of the way, levering it into a vertical position and revealing a flight of stone steps that disappeared into the ground beneath the dais.

Gesturing for Caspian to follow him, Peter led the way into the chamber, inching along the stairs until his hand touched a torch holder, and thankfully the torch in it. He frowned then, realizing he didn't have matches.

"Damn," he said quietly. "I have no way to light this."

He was taken by surprise when a hand fell on his shoulder, holding out something small. Peter reached up and grasped the object and was even more confused. "Matches! Where did you…no…never mind." He and Caspian both blurted out "Edmund" at the same time. "He was always thinking ahead. I tend to just rush in," Peter said ruefully as he struck the matches and lit the torch.

Caspian was eying the matchbook with interest. "I admit I did not believe King Edmund when he told me these would make fire. Your world must be very advanced." They continued down several flights of stairs and at the bottom Peter pushed open a gate to reveal four chests and four statues dominating the chamber, with various other treasures strewn about.

"Well, at least it is still here," Peter said, making a beeline for the chest that he hoped would hold Lucy's cordial. He gazed up at the visage of the statue and remembered his sister as she had been before they left Narnia.

"That is Queen Lucy?" Caspian asked with wide eyes. "This is more how I expected you all to be when I was told the horn might summon you. Not that I don't appreciate you being here in this form."

Peter nodded distractedly as he dug into the chest and then gasped. "There!"

Reaching down deep, he came back up with a small, red case and diamond bottle clutched in his right hand. Now that it was in hand, Peter found himself almost afraid to use it. Caspian leaned closer. "That is it?"

Nodding, Peter uncorked the small bottle and turned to his companion. "You first," he said, hand shaking a little as he metered out just one drop. He smiled when Caspian's eyes grew even larger. "I take it that it worked?"

The young Prince nodded, prodding his shoulder and shrugging it to and fro to test mobility. "I feel like I was not even injured," he said, amazed. "I had heard of the magic of Queen Lucy's cordial, but I did not fully believe it until now."

Peter smirked. "I admit I was a little incredulous about it when Father Christmas said it could cure any injury," he said, holding up the small bottle to the torchlight. "But I'm very grateful it does." Caspian didn't need to ask to understand he was referring to Edmund at Beruna. Everyone knew that story.

"Well?" Caspian prompted. "What are you waiting for, then?"

The prince gestured for the cordial bottle. It was far easier for someone else to meter out a drop than to try and give it to yourself, so Peter let Caspian do it for him. He was used to the odd sensation of wounds healing from past experiences with the cordial.

What he wasn't prepared for was the sudden pain. He winced and pulled away, turning to face the wall behind him. He was vaguely aware of Caspian following him and speaking, but he was in too much discomfort to respond or fully comprehend what he was hearing.

"King Peter!"

Finally, Caspian's voice got through. "W…what?"

The prince drew Peter around to face him. "It didn't hurt me, what happened?"

Trying to catch his breath, Peter didn't answer immediately. "I'm not really sure," Peter said, panting. "It's…never done that before." He took stock of his body now, pleased that there appeared to be no pain in his torso. To be sure, he tugged at his clothing until he could reach the old wound. Sure enough, it was now nothing more than a long scar.

He looked back up to see Caspian gazing at the wound. He didn't speak, and for that Peter was grateful. When the High King went to take a step, however, he realized something was amiss.

"Ouch!" he called out, stumbling. Pain zipped from his feet to the middle of his back. He stopped moving and waited for it to die down. "What in the world?" he muttered, tentatively taking another step. This was painful as well, but less so. He took another, and again it had lessened.

Gesturing for Caspian to join him, Peter walked slowly around the room, and the prince remained vigil in case he needed to help him. Soon, Peter was walking without pain for the first time in a very long time. He smiled suddenly. "Nothing, no more pain," he said happily. "It had me worried for a moment there. I guess it just took longer than a normal wound."

His companion nodded. "Yes, it would seem. But at least it worked."

Peter moved back toward the chests and began to remove things to bring back to his siblings. Lucy's cordial went on his belt and her small dagger beside it. He eyed the armor next and frowned. "We aren't as big as our adult selves," he said, frowning. Then his eyes focused on a nearby corner. "But we're about the size we were at Beruna."

Moving off, he pulled down the chainmail on the left. It had a small tear in the side and he fingered it, pushing back memories of the White Witch and his brother. "How do you suppose we can get this stuff back?"

Caspian approached him. "Well, you could just wear yours, I guess. We'll have to lash King Edmund's to my horse. And you can take Queen Susan's things." He gestured to the leather top and arm guards Susan wore in battle.

Peter's gaze shifted to his own red tunic, emblazoned with the lion, and the chainmail and armor beside it. With a small sigh, he nodded and pulled it down. "I'll need a hand," he said, holding up some of the pieces.

Together, he and Caspian managed to get Peter into the old armor. It still fit well, though the mail was a little short since he had gotten taller. Peter turned to his own trunk and opened it.

He quickly frowned. "Well, that's odd," he mumbled. Pulling out the shield he had received from Father Christmas, he was dismayed to see that Rhindon was not amongst his belongings. "I guess it wasn't recovered…" he said quietly, obviously disappointed. "Well, there's nothing to be done for it."

He shut the chest and moved to Edmund's. Extracting two swords, he handed them to Caspian and then handed him his brother's shield. Moving still further on, he pulled open Susan's chest and took out her bow and quiver full of arrows.

Since he had his shield lashed to his back, he slung the bow over his shoulder as best he could and held the quiver. "I think that's it," he said, still eying his trunk with a frown. Turning, he motioned for Caspian to go up the stairs first. Laden down with Edmund's armor, Peter wanted to make sure the prince didn't trip and fall.

It was a bit treacherous heading back down the slippery path to the beach where Destrier and Realeza were grazing nearby. It only took a few moments to lash bits of armor to the horses and strap as many of the weapons to their person as they could.

The High King, looking much as he had at Beruna, and the Telmarine prince began the return trip to Aslan's How, feeling quite a bit better than before – despite now being a fair few pounds heavier.

A/N: So, yeah, the prophecy might sound a bit lame…but I wasn't all that inspired by the prophecy in LWW either, so yeah…I may or may not post again tomorrow, we shall have to wait and see what happens with Evie today. For those of you who want to see the night raid and other interesting battles, the prophecy won't change the plot THAT much, so you'll still get it.