A/N: Thanks to the reviewers and readers who have stuck with us so far! The Edmund scene that I teased you about is here! For those who have been reading and know about my daughter, Evie, she should be just fine. We are still seeing a specialist, but there doesn't seem to be much concern right now. Thank goodness! Enjoy the chapter! And a special thanks this chapter to Phoenixqueen, whose insight into sword-fighting was once again invaluable!

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

Part 12:

Edmund frowned, leaning over the map much like Peter was wont to do when planning campaigns. "You say it will take them at least half a day to get all their troops across the river once the bridge is completed?" He turned his attention to Caspian.

The prince nodded. "Yes, and Miraz will want to make a grand entrance so he will wait until they are all assembled before marching on the How. He will want to display his might."

Nodding, the young King turned to Glenstorm. "The preparations in the tunnels, how are they coming along? Could we use our trap doors if the battle came to us day after tomorrow?"

The centaur hedged. "I've got people working on it day and night, King Edmund. We aren't finished yet. It's a delicate process if we want it to remain a surprise and if we don't want the tunnels to come down on our heads."

Running a hand through his hair, Edmund nodded again. "Then we need a way to stall them."

There were murmurs amongst the assembled, but no suggestions until Caspian suddenly stood. "King Edmund, if I may?" He was given the go ahead and stepped forward. "My uncle is a murderer, but since I fled the night of my cousin's birth, he has been crowned a King and as such, has to hold to the traditions of his people. One of those could be of use to us."

Turning to Doctor Cornelius, he continued. "If I recall correctly, the ruler of an opposing nation or army can challenge the Telmarine King to single combat upon the field of battle. If we were to challenge Miraz, he would have to accept or lose face."

Edmund's eyes narrowed as he considered this plan. "So if I issued a challenge to Miraz as King, he would have to accept it? He'd have no other choice?"

Caspian nodded. "That is my understanding. And we could stipulate surrender as the reward for whoever wins. It would buy us a little time. We could set the time as noon the day after they arrive, giving us another day to prepare."

Doctor Cornelius chimed in here. "There is just one problem with this plan," he said, standing. "The tradition stipulates the leader of one nation, and that would be High King Peter. He has higher standing than yourself, King Edmund, and your sisters, and Miraz would not accept a challenge from anyone else."

Edmund frowned, looking to Caspian, Lucy and Susan. "Peter still has no feeling in his legs, Doctor," he said quietly. The Narnians assembled murmured and gasped at that, for many of them this was the first confirmation of their High King's plight. "But…perhaps we can get around that."

Susan eyed him closely, seeing the wheels turning in his head. "What are you thinking, Edmund?" she asked.

The Just King turned to her. "Do we know if Miraz is aware of what Peter looks like?"

Doctor Cornelius cocked his head to the side. "The stories depict him as a boy, fair of face and hair, but strong in heart and mind. That is about the extent of it. I doubt Miraz would have any more knowledge than that."

Susan turned to Caspian. "You don't think he would have realized it was Peter with me when we burst into his chambers, do you?"

Caspian shrugged. "I do not know. I did not call him by name," he said, still disturbed by his actions and trying not to let it get to him. He knew he still had to sit and talk with the Pevensies about that lapse in judgment.

"Then we can issue the challenge and I'll just have to pretend to be Peter if he isn't up and well by the time of the duel. I don't think it will come to that, because if I know my brother, he'll miraculously recover just in time." He turned to Glenstorm now. "Will that give you the time you need to finish preparations?"

The Centaur assured his King it would.

Turning now, he looked to Trumpkin. "Would you be willing to carry the message to Miraz?"

He knew that Trumpkin had been captured and nearly killed by Miraz, and half expected him to hesitate in his answer, but he was pleasantly surprised when the dwarf did not. Instead, he smiled firmly. "I'll do it," he said. "I'm sure they'll be happy to see me…"

Susan chuckled and Edmund smiled back. "I'll bet Trumpkin. And this time they won't be able to touch you, or try to drown you. You'll take a centaur and a Giant with you, however, just in case."

Trumpkin nodded at that and Lucy took advantage of a momentary lapse in conversation to add that the gryphons were ready and had already accumulated a massive store of stones to bombard the Telmarines with when the time came.

Edmund smiled at her and patted her shoulder. "Good work, Lu. It will be very effective, I think."

With nothing more to discuss, Edmund dismissed everyone, staying behind to write the message to Miraz and then planning to accompany Glenstorm to study the work being done in the tunnels.

"Come on, Lucy," Susan said quietly, "we should go check on Peter, I don't like the idea of him being alone right now."

Nodding, the youngest Queen followed her sister out, with Caspian and the dwarf Nikabrik following.

Caspian was heading down the tunnel when a voice stopped him. "Prince Caspian, a word if you would?" Turning, the prince faced the dark-haired dwarf and nodded for him to continue. Nikabrik sidled closer. "You do not think a thirteen-year-old boy can bring victory to Narnia, do you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "His brother brought nothing but death to us so far, why should you think he could be any different?"

For a moment, in shock at these words, Caspian did and said nothing. Then he took a menacing step forward. "I should not like to hear you speak of High King Peter or King Edmund in such a fashion again, dwarf. That is treason and you would do well to remember that."

Nikabrik snorted. "Treason? Those children don't belong here and they shouldn't be in charge of this army. We need a real leader, not little babies. And I know just who we can have, someone with years of experience, Prince Caspian."

The young Telmarine frowned. "What is this you speak of?"

Nikabrik leaned closer. "She ruled Narnia and kept it free of invaders for one hundred years, Prince Caspian. And I know how to bring her back."

Caspian jerked backward. "You speak of the White Witch. Never will I be party to her return. She was a murderer and a tyrant and no ruler of Narnia." He would have gone on, but he was suddenly hit from behind and dropped to the ground with a dull thud.

"I thought you said he would cooperate," the werewolf said from behind Caspian, a club held in his right paw. Dropping the club, he heaved Caspian up and dragged him into the nearby Stone Table room and dropped him on the ground in front of one of the stone trilithions, with Nikabrik trailing him. "Turned out to be a bit more noble then you thought, eh?"

Nikabrik frowned at him and jerked up Caspian's arm. "Whatever, just get the hag and let's get this done before those blasted kids get us all killed."

A creature dressed in rags swayed close to the fallen Prince, muttering all the while, and began to draw a circle around him. She kept up her chanting as a wall of ice formed next to the Stone Table and the image of a woman, dressed in flowing white, appeared on the other side.

"Loyal dwarf, extend his hand to mine so that the blood of this Son of Adam can restore me to power and my rightful place as Queen of Narnia!" The woman called out. Her face was a mask of excitement and greed as Nikabrik sliced open Caspian's palm and held it out to touch hers.

There was a crack and the ice in front of the woman receded, revealing her form. She stepped through the crack and it sealed behind her, the ice disappearing from view entirely leaving only the woman in white standing beside the cracked table.

"Hail, Jadis, Queen of Narnia," the werewolf, dwarf and hag intoned, bowing to the floor in front of her. She barely acknowledged their fealty, instead snatching up the sword Nikabrik was holding.

"Take me to his Majesty King Peter," she said with a sneer. "It is time his reign ended."

Lucy reached Peter's corner of the main chamber and was surprised to see Peter wasn't in it. She looked questioningly at Susan, who's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion too. They turned when a female centaur approached.

"Your Majesties," she said, bowing. "Dwarf Nikabrik suggested the High King be given more privacy. His Majesty agreed and was moved right through there," she pointed to a nearby tunnel that Lucy knew led into what had formerly been a food storage chamber.

"Thank you," Susan said, urging Lucy to go in ahead of her while Susan gathered something for them to eat and a drink for Peter.

Lucy, hesitating for a moment, finally did enter the room to find Peter sitting up, staring forlornly at his unmoving legs, clenching and unclenching his hand in the blankets – the only sign that he was trying to move his legs and was not getting anywhere.

He looked up at her entrance and she was shocked to see his eyes widen in fear. Real fear. Of her. "Peter?" She said, halting in the doorway. "What's the matter? I…it's only me, I'd never hurt you." She broke off, chiding herself since she knew she had definitely done just that very recently. "I mean. I'm…Peter. Please."

Blinking, he let his shoulders slump in feigned relief.

"Sorry, Lucy," he muttered. "I was just remembering something from a dream. Come on in, welcome to my humble abode. It's the only thing I'll be seeing for quite some time, it seems."

She crept into the room and moved to a chair a few feet from Peter's bed, noticing the way he tensed up again as she drew close, but not commenting on it. "I'm sure it won't be that long, Peter. The cordial will fix everything. It always does."

Peter snorted. "Sure, and that's why suddenly only half of me works?"

"No, only half of you works because you were stupid enough to let yourself get distracted in battle, Peter," Susan said acidly. She hated when Peter got sarcastic and sharp-tongued. He could be beastly when he did, and there was enough tension in the group at the moment. They didn't need to add anymore disputes among themselves.

He grumbled at her, but didn't seem to take too much offense at her words. Inwardly, he knew they were completely true, and he couldn't fault her for stating the truth or the obvious. And perhaps he deserved this, since he had led so many to their deaths.

As if sensing his thoughts turning to self-loathing, Susan handed him an apple and a cup of water. "Eat. Drink. Now."

Peter looked up at her as he took them and mumbled, "Yes, mum…"

Lucy remained quiet, watching her brother eat and converse awkwardly with Susan. Neither one of them spoke of anything truly serious or deep, just kept up a running commentary to pass the time and push back the silence.

All three of them jumped, though, when a boulder that they had thought part of the wall beside Peter's pallet was pushed aside and a figure they never thought they would see again glided regally into the room.

"Well, what do we have here? A crippled High King and his two little sisters? This will be all too easy…"

Peter's heart was in his throat and he only just managed to whisper, "Jadis? How?"

She smiled. "It seems, High King Peter, that there are those amongst your army who don't believe the Kings and Queens of Cair Paravel can bring them to victory. They wished to have a new leader, one who would. All it took was a single drop of blood. Too bad I couldn't have taken it from your brother, but he wasn't available."

Peter's eyes widened at that. "If you hurt him…"

She slapped the flat of her sword against his shoulder, resting it there menacingly. "You'll what? You can't even stand, Peter, dear."

It wasn't Peter who answered her. All he could do was watch in trepidation as his little sister jumped to her feet and flung herself toward the Witch's blade.

"No, but we can!" Lucy shouted just before she shoved the sword away from her brother's vulnerable neck, actually surprising the Witch so much that she released her grip on the blade and it clattered to the ground.

Susan was ready to fire an arrow into the woman's heart, but Nikabrik surged into the room and slashed at her, forcing her to retreat and use her bow to ward off the attack. Peter was defenseless and powerless to intercede, sitting wide-eyed on his pallet and wanting nothing more than to have a sword in hand to help.

Lucy was no match for Jadis and was quickly subdued. Susan, seeing the Witch hovering over her sister with her reclaimed sword, was suddenly hit from behind and dropped to her knees. "You humans need to learn to watch your back," the werewolf chuckled, holding her down by the shoulders.

Peter watched Lucy struggle angrily, seemingly without a care for her own life, as Jadis pulled her to Peter's side. "Who shall I kill first, Peter? Your youngest sister? You? Or maybe that one there?"

She was about to stab Peter with her sword when her eyes averted for a moment to a pile of armor just within arm's reach – and in particular, the glinting golden hilt of a sword.

Reaching out, she smiled and took hold of Rhindon, drawing it from its sheath. "Fitting," she said as she lifted the sword and brought it forward to Peter's chest, letting her other sword rest against Lucy. "You shall have the honor of being felled by your own sword."

It was painfully obvious that Jadis intended to kill Peter first, because she was pressing the tip of Rhindon against his chest, poised to deal him a death blow. He eyed her with the most loathing he could conjure and said, "You'll never win, either way. You won't find all the Narnians as quick to follow you as these three."

Jadis pushed forward a little harder on the sword and Peter gasped as it broke the skin. He bit his lip to hold in a shout of pain. Leaning close to him, hand still gripping Lucy, the Witch dug the sword a tiny bit further and smirked as he jerked in response.

"Perhaps. But you won't be around to find out." She suddenly flung Lucy to the ground and reset her stance, preparing to shove Rhindon forward. Three cries echoed in the chamber.

Edmund sighed, leaning against the wall just beyond the main chamber. Out from under the eyes of the war council, he wasn't so sure he had made the right decision, sending out the challenge to Miraz.

While he really did believe Peter would recover in time, he feared for his brother since he knew there was no way in Narnia that the High King would let Edmund fight in his stead, even if he still felt weak.

Pressing a hand to his forehead, he let out a muffled growl. "Aslan, why did this have to happen to Peter right now? I mean, I'd prefer it hadn't happened at all, but he is the best tournament fighter among us and we need him if this is going to work. And we don't need him in rough shape."

He heard scuffling coming from the nearby Stone Table tunnel and pushed off the wall. Just as he was reaching the corner, a figure stumbled right into him, knocking him to the ground.

There was a pained cry from the figure, and Edmund pushed upward until he could see who it was. "Caspian!" He exclaimed. "What in the blazes? Were you a bit preoccupied and didn't see me?" He stopped suddenly, his right hand sticky where it grasped Caspian's left. "Why are you bleeding?"

"Kin…King Edmund…" the young Prince panted, suddenly wrenching his arms from Edmund's and gripping the boy's shoulders. "Witch. Dwarf brought her back, I saw them leaving the chamber. She's going to kill King Peter and your sisters!"

Edmund's eyes widened and he jerked back. "This isn't something you joke about, Caspian. She is dead, Aslan killed her. Why would you say such a thing?"

Caspian shoved him back and stumbled to his feet, hand pressed to the back of his head. "I'm not lying!" he shouted. "We need to help them. Now!" He clenched his bleeding palm against his side. "They knocked me out and must have used my blood to bring her from the netherworld."

Edmund studied the Telmarine's face for a moment more. Then, seeing the truth in his eyes, jumped to his feet and took off without a backward glance toward the main chamber.

Bursting into the large room, his eyes darted to where Peter's pallet had been.

It wasn't there.

"Glenstorm? Where is King Peter?" he called out, running forward toward where the centaur and his wife and son stood. The female centaur, seeing the urgency in Edmund's face and hearing it in his tone, pointed wordlessly to a small chamber, the wooden door of which was tightly closed.

Twisting on his heel to change direction, Edmund drew his two swords and didn't hesitate for a second as he slammed his foot into the door and it creaked and then flew open.

Standing on the threshold with swords drawn, Edmund wildly took in the scene before him: Susan on her knees held at bay by a large werewolf, Nikabrik hovering behind him, Lucy in the clutch of a figure he knew all too well and Peter – Peter trying vainly to hide the pain of a sword, which Edmund recognized as Rhindon, cutting into him.

He could see the Witch's muscles straining and caught the tail end of her words and shouted, "Leave him alone, Witch!" just as Lucy and Susan cried out, "NO!" Peter's eyes had snapped up at Ed's voice and he shook as the blade crept a bit further into him, but didn't skewer him as she had been about to do.

Edmund couldn't see it, but a broad grin spread across the woman's face at his voice and arrival. Peter wanted to cry out in relief, but decided against doing so as the blade was precariously close to ending his life right now and he didn't want to make any sudden moves.

Lucy was still squirming beside him and he chanced a glance at her face to find tears silently streaming down it and her eyes locked, not on Jadis' face or shifted to see Edmund in the doorway, but on the sword tip and the blood on his shirt. She was petrified.

Edmund stepped further into the room and there was a commotion just outside the doorway as Caspian forced concerned Narnians to stay back, uncertain what Jadis would do to Peter if they all burst in.

"Let him go, Jadis," Edmund said. "Or are you too cowardly to face someone who isn't confined to bed?" He twirled the sword in his right hand, cocking his head to the side in challenge.

Jadis' grin turned feral as she looked into Peter's eyes. "I suppose I could wait a bit before I kill you, Peter, dear." She turned slowly to face Edmund, although the sword still hovered at Peter's chest. "I have long wished to spill your blood, Traitor King. Are you so certain you are ready to die?"

She suddenly wrenched the blade backward and Peter jerked and yelped as the blade slipped out of him. It wasn't too deep, but it stung like a beast and bled freely. He immediately moved a hand to staunch the flow as Jadis turned around to face his little brother.

Edmund didn't appear perturbed, but on the inside his guts were twisted into knots so tight he was surprised he was able to breathe properly. Jadis stalked closer, blade held out, Peter's blood glistening on the tip.

Raising both swords, she eyed Edmund over the crossed blades. "Surely we can make a sport of this," she said. "Move out where we have the room to fight. Or are you too cowardly to do this properly?" she continued, turning Edmund's words back on him.

Peter wanted to shout out a resounding "No" and stop his brother from facing this demon, but he could only watch as Edmund nodded his agreement and backed out of the room. Jadis nodded to Nikabrik, who pulled his blade forward and prodded Susan to move out of the chamber.

The werewolf moved to prod Lucy and Peter shook in rage as he was left in the room, his siblings in the clutches of the vile Witch. His solitude was short-lived as Caspian surged into the room and reached for his wound, peeling the fabric back to look at it.

"I'm fine," Peter ground out. "Help me out there!"

Caspian met the High King's fierce gaze and nodded, stooping to lift Peter up. The latter winced as a sharp jolt ripped through him at the movement, but he paid it little mind, focused on the fact that his little brother was about to fight for his life, and the lives of his whole family.

The Telmarine prince managed to bring Peter just outside the splintered door before he had to set him down. "I am sorry," he apologized. "I am too dizzy to take you further." He was rubbing his head again and Peter only now noticed the blood in his hair and on his hand.

He couldn't respond as he caught a glimpse of Edmund and Jadis standing in the center of the large, open chamber. Several of the Narnians had reached for weapons upon seeing the Witch, but Edmund waved them off. He stood facing Jadis, to all observers appearing outwardly calm, but Peter could tell by the subtle tension in his shoulders that Edmund was ready for any trick the Witch might pull.

Jadis suddenly made the first move, raising one blade and swinging it fiercely at Edmund's head, while, under cover of that overt attack, she brought Rhindon up and around to cut at Edmund at waist level. The look on her face was one of deep satisfaction.

Edmund however, despite being back in the body of a 13-year old, still had years of experience in sword fighting, and easily blocked both blows, before twisting his left wrist and forcing Rhindon away from his side as he attempted to gut Jadis and end the fight swiftly and decisively.

Jadis seemed surprised at the unexpected resistance, but still managed to get both of her blades around to block Edmund's attack, batting aside the blade and spinning out of the way of his second sword. Continuing the motion of the swing, she brought both of her blades around, intending to slice Edmund in half.

Instead of blocking, Edmund did the one thing Jadis didn't expect. He leaped backward out of the way, turning her own momentum against her and then taking the opening to bring one blade down in a vertical slash, the tip grazing the Witch's back and drawing blood.

Jadis whirled around and gave Edmund a very ugly look, but there was something else in her eyes, something that Peter had seen once before.

Fear.

When Aslan had appeared on the battlefield at Beruna, for one brief instant Peter had seen true fear in her eyes. Now, he was seeing it again. The last time Edmund and Jadis had fought, Jadis had defeated Edmund easily.

Jadis had come into this fight expecting it to be just as easy as before, but Edmund wasn't that same inexperienced boy that he had been the last time they locked blades, and she was just now realizing it.

She increased the speed of her attacks, but Edmund matched her blow for blow, moving with all the grace and skill of the trained swordsman he was, second only to Peter in skill when it came to one-on-one combat. Lashing out at him, she managed to overbalance him, forcing Edmund to dive out of the way of her swords, although she did succeed in gashing his upper arm and shoulder with Rhindon, just below where he had taken the arrow wound during the raid. Edmund's blood gleamed wetly in the dim light of the cavern as it mingled with the still wet blood from the wound that Jadis had earlier dealt Peter.

The younger King hit the stone floor hard, but recovered quickly, rolling away from a vicious blow from the Witch, and once he was a few feet away from Jadis – thankfully out of reach of her swinging blades – he jumped to his feet again.

Edmund locked eyes with Peter for a moment, and the eldest Pevensie watched resolve firm in those dark eyes before Edmund turned back to Jadis with a truly fearsome grimace on his face, one of mingled pain and anger. For a moment, Peter couldn't help but compare the look on his brother's face with the one he had seen on Caspian's in Miraz's chamber. Edmund was angry, yes, but he was keeping a tight stranglehold on that anger, not allowing it to influence him or distract him.

"You've hurt my family enough, Jadis. This ends here."

Well, Peter revised his thought, almost no influence.

In a flurry of fierce sword strokes, the Just King drove the White Witch back and she was forced to give ground swiftly and awkwardly, her blocks barely effective against the whirlwind of Edmund's twin blades. He was nigh unbeatable with two swords and Jadis was about to learn that lesson the hard way.

There was a collective gasp as Edmund knocked Rhindon from the Witch's hand and locked the other above her head with one of his as he thrust the second blade he held into her chest.

Her eyes widened in pain and shock as she gazed at his face.

"You've learned a bit, I see," she whispered. "I'll never leave you. I'm a part of you, traitor."

She crumbled to the ground and he leaned down close to her. As he wrenched the blade from her body and stared into her pain-filled, but still incensed eyes, he whispered, "I am King Edmund the Just and I have you to thank for that, really. I know my place and I've paid for my traitorous ways. You have no hold on me now, Witch."

Before their eyes, Jadis' body suddenly lost form and disintegrated into dust, blowing around the chamber though there was no wind to explain how. When the dust settled and mingled with the dirt on the ground, Edmund lowered his swords, struggling to calm his rapid heart and breathing.

At the Witch's fall, the werewolf and Nikabrik had turned tail and tried to run, but hadn't gotten far before they were stopped by Glenstorm and a returning Trumpkin.

"Edmund!"

Susan ran forward and grabbed her brother into a strong hug. "You were amazing, brother-mine," she whispered as he wrapped his arms, still holding the swords, around her slight form.

Lucy hugged him from behind and Edmund lifted his eyes to see Peter's relieved ones from where he was sitting awkwardly against the wall outside his chamber. Pulling himself from his sisters' grasps, he sheathed his swords, reached down to where Rhindon had fallen and picked the blade up.

The blood, his and Peter's, still stained the tip and Edmund grabbed a nearby cloth and quickly wiped the blade clean before walking over to his brother and handing him back his sword.

Lucy's eyes had followed Edmund, and now they widened as the situation fully hit her and she suddenly took off across the chamber toward Peter's sitting form. The High King, dropping his sword before she impaled herself on it, let out a surprised "Oomph" as she flung herself into his lap like a little child.

"Peter, I was so scared, I thought she was going to kill you and I hadn't said I was sorry and I was so afraid you hated me and you'd die thinking I hated you…" She was babbling into his shoulder, tears falling in torrents.

Caspian edged away to give the two a little privacy and dragged a few curious others with him.

Peter didn't respond immediately, but did tighten his arms around Lucy. "Oh, Lu," he said quietly. "I think I knew deep down you didn't mean it, I was just so caught up in how much it hurt."

She trembled in his arms and he held tighter, not letting her attempts to push away succeed. Finally she relented and collapsed back on him, limp and malleable. He managed to coax her into a position that took the brunt of her weight off his new wound.

"Peter, please, please, forgive me," Lucy said, looking up and meeting Peter's gaze. "I was hurt that you didn't believe me about Aslan, but I never wanted to make you feel like you were responsible for people dying. It's no one's fault but that vile Miraz. I feel so terrible, can you ever forgive me?"

For a moment, Peter didn't respond. Then he sighed. "I can forgive you, Lu, if you can forgive me for not believing in you. Your faith has never waivered and you would never lie about seeing Aslan. I suppose I was just unwilling to believe he wouldn't let me see him too."

Hugging Peter tightly again, Lucy chanted, "Thank you, thank you, thank you," into Peter's shirt, tears shifting from fear and sorrow to joy when she knew that Peter was willing to put the fights behind him. "I love you so much, Peter. I'm so sorry I made you get hurt."

Her brother pushed her back again, brushing hair from her eyes and tears from her cheeks. "Made me get hurt, Lu? What do you mean?"

She averted her gaze and mumbled, barely audible. "You got distracted because of me and you got hurt. It's all my fault…"

He put a finger to her lips, "No, Lu," he said with conviction. "I got hurt because I let your words bother me when I should have put all my focus on the battle. It was my own fault and while I didn't want to think that at first, it is true. And you were right, the raid did fail. It was for a lot of reasons, not all my fault, but I wasn't without fault either." He sighed. "I think it best if we just put it all behind us and not pick at the details, Lucy. We both were wrong and we both were right. Can't we just acknowledge that and move on?"

She smilingly pushed his blonde hair from his eyes and nodded. "I think we can do that, Peter." She turned as Edmund and Susan approached and knelt on either side of Peter and Lucy.

"Are we all right?" Edmund asked quietly, looking from Lucy to Peter. Upon their nods, he smiled and meeting Susan's gaze, the two enveloped their brother and sister in hugs until they were a tangle of limbs.

Caspian looked on quietly, wishing for once that he wasn't an only child. He would dearly love to feel a love like the one the Pevensies obviously shared. Even when they were at odds with each other, it was still there simmering under the surface.

Susan dislodged first and pushed Lucy and Edmund back as she reached for Peter's chest to check his newest wound. "You know, Peter," she said with a grimace, "you sure go through a lot of tunics."

Peter laughed lightly at that and nodded, then grunted in pain as Susan prodded the wound. "What's the verdict, Su?" he asked. She frowned and he scrunched his nose, knowing what she was about to say. "It needs stitches, doesn't it? Oh I hate that…"

She patted him on the arm. "Just a few, Peter." Standing, she gestured to Caspian hovering nearby. "Can you get him back to his room? I have to gather a few things to treat his wound." The prince nodded and immediately set about doing moving the High King.

Edmund, promising Susan he would let someone look to his wound soon went to go speak with Trumpkin about the message and Miraz's response, and he promised to come explain what the heck was going on to Peter when he was fixed up. Lucy chose to accompany him to assure herself Trumpkin was indeed all right.

Susan returned to the chamber carrying medical supplies and asked that Caspian wait outside the door, just to make sure no one interrupted them while she worked. He nodded and settled against the doorframe, just within earshot.

Peter warily eyed the supplies Susan was rummaging through and tried not to shy away. She handed him a cup full of a sweet-smelling tea and he drank it without question, knowing it was laced with a pain-relieving herbal mix.

In a few minutes he felt it begin to work as his body began to relax and he felt oddly detached from his body. He could feel when Susan started cleaning the wound and listened to her soothing voice as she talked.

"Do you remember when we first rode out to battle after our coronation, Peter, and Edmund got a great big splinter and I chased him around the camp because he wouldn't let me pull it out?" she said with a small smile. "You were always the good patient. Still and relatively quiet." She paused when his breath hitched at her first stitch, but after rubbing lightly just beyond the wound, he calmed down and she continued both the stitching and the talking.

"Of course, you weren't always a quiet patient. If there was a fight going on, you were practically dragging me and my needle along with you trying to get back to it," she said, pausing again to give him a moment to collect himself. "Remember that time that you wouldn't sit still and I stitched a piece of your tunic into the wound on your shoulder? That wasn't pretty."

He let out a pained smile at that memory and Susan placed the last stitch and then started to secure a bandage over the wound. "Now that wasn't too bad," she said, nudging him until he was in his favorite sleeping position. "Rest, Peter. And when you wake up, may you feel worlds better. I'll take care of Ed for you, don't worry."

Peter drifted off to sleep, the exhausting day finally knocking him completely out.

Leaning against the wall, Caspian was privy to a side of Susan he had only heard of, never before encountered. She was called Queen Susan the Gentle, and now he could see why. Her gentle ministrations and her simple presence and words had been able to soothe her brother's pain.

Anyone could be fierce in battle, but many good warriors were hardened and somewhat callous because of their constant forays into fighting. But Susan was like night and day – she could turn off that warrior and become the gentle sister, healer and compassionate Queen.

He wondered if he would ever be able to turn off the survival instinct and rule a country with compassion, not the hard discipline of a soldier. He knew that High King Peter and King Edmund were both kind people, but they always retained an air of fierceness and boldness even outside of battle.

Susan, a ruler of no less power and radiance, gave off a completely different presence. Approachable. Kind. Compassionate. Gentle. Someone that a subject could approach and not feel overwhelmed by her presence. He imagined it would be a good trait to have, approachability, and if being gentle and compassionate was the way to achieve that, he would have to give it a try.

He was drawn from his thoughts when Susan appeared in the doorway. She gave him a small smile and gestured to his hastily wrapped hand and the bloody clump of hair at the back of his head.

"Come in here and let me tend those," she said, grasping his good hand and lightly tugging him into the chamber. Casting a soft glance at Peter, she drew Caspian to the furthest corner and sat him down.

He watched her fetch a rag, clean water and bandages before returning to sit in front of him. Reaching forward, she pulled his injured hand into her lap and began unwrapping the bloody cloth he'd tied around it.

"I want to thank you for alerting Edmund to the Witch's return," she said as she worked, not looking up and speaking softly. "If he had arrived even a moment later, Peter would have been killed."

Caspian sucked in a breath when the rag snagged on the edge of the wound on his palm. Susan smiled in sympathy, but held firm to his hand so he couldn't pull it back. "You are very welcome," he breathed. "It is no less than any of you would have done for me."

She smiled and wrapped the clean bandage around his hand.

"Still, I know we were a little cold to you after your suggestion about your aunt and cousin." She broke off when he shifted uncomfortably. "I trust it was the heat of the moment that caused you to suggest such a thing…" she prompted, looking up at him now.

He sighed. "I don't know. I was so angry that I let my anger get the best of me. Not everyone can be gentle at the drop of a hat, Queen Susan. But I promise, I shall try harder from now on."

Susan turned him around to get at his head wound and said quietly. "It isn't always easy being the gentle one, Caspian. Sometimes, it is hard to rein yourself in, but you must because anger will get you nowhere. I tried to tell you that in your uncle's chambers."

He nodded and she smacked him, telling him to hold still. "I see now that you were right," he said. "It would have served no one if I had killed him last night. I shall endeavor to remember your words, Queen Susan. They are very wise."

She came back around to his front and patted his shoulder. "You will make a fine leader some day, Caspian. Never doubt that."

A/N: We are getting closer to the DUEL. I can't wait for that! It's going to be so fun!