A/N: Bit later than usual, but a big longer as well! Longest yet, I think. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews are GREATLY appreciated, of course…

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

Part Thirteen:

The rest of the day passed quickly and when Peter next woke it was night and his siblings were all huddled sleeping around his pallet. Edmund's wound from the duel had been treated and he was clad in only a light tunic and pants, and to Peter's eyes, he seemed so much smaller than when he wore all manner of armor.

Susan and Lucy were cuddled together on a pallet of blankets, each covered from chin to toes by another blanket. Lucy's face was younger when she slept, Peter observed, and he could almost forget ever having "seen" it sneering at him in his dream.

Pushing up with his arms, he found his legs to still be useless and sighed unhappily. The new chest wound was smarting, but nothing overly painful and he was easily able to ignore it.

Tired of lying flat, Peter pushed and dragged himself until he was sitting against the wall beside his pallet and that alone had him panting. He knew that Edmund had issued some sort of challenge in his name and planned to fight in his stead if he wasn't well by day after tomorrow, and now Peter was starting to worry.

"Peter? What are you doing up?" came the sleep-soaked voice of said brother as Edmund pushed himself into a sitting position and wiped crust from the corner of his eyes.

Frowning, Peter looked at his brother and how he was hunched and stiff. "I was just thinking, Ed," he said. "How's the shoulder? She got you pretty good there."

Edmund delicately moved his arm and shrugged, wincing as he did so. "I'll live," he said. "Which is more than she can claim, eh?" He scooted over to Peter and slumped against the wall beside him. "Do you think she's really gone this time, Peter?"

He had spoken so softly, the eldest Pevensie wasn't entirely sure he had actually heard him. "I think the Deep Magic can do a lot of things, Ed. I'm not sure if she can ever come back – I didn't think she could this time."

His brother sighed. "Yeah, me neither." He paused before turning to Peter and adding, "I was petrified when I burst in here and she was poised to kill you. It reminded me of when she was battling her way toward you at Beruna. She was so single-minded and bent on destroying you."

Peter leaned his head back against the wall, the ache in his chest intensifying, but not because of the pain of his wound – because of the pain of his memories.

"I felt entirely helpless myself, Ed, watching you two fight. I knew you could beat her, but it just felt so much like turning and seeing the two of you on that battlefield. I guess we think alike sometimes, huh?"

Edmund chuckled. "I guess." The dark-haired boy frowned. "Do you think less of me for wanting to kill her, Peter? Because I did. Want to kill her, that is. I really can't find it in me to feel bad about it right now."

Looking over at Edmund, who was now studying the ceiling intently, Peter sighed. "It depends on why you wanted to kill her, Edmund. When you burst into the room, what was the first thing you thought?"

His brother pondered for a moment before answering, "That I had to get her to stop what she was doing. I had to save you and protect the girls and the Narnians."

"So you didn't think something like, 'I am going to kill her' or 'I want to kill her', you thought you had to stop her," Peter prompted. Edmund frowned, but nodded in agreement.

Peter went on. "And when you were fighting her, what were you thinking?"

Edmund looked over at Peter's form in the darkened chamber and wondered what he could be getting at. "I suppose I was thinking I had to beat her so she couldn't hurt anyone else."

Peter turned to him. "You didn't think something like, 'I want to kill her for hurting my family.' Instead, you thought you had to prevent her from hurting people in the future."

Edmund's eyes widened and his lips turned up into a small smile. "Yes, I do believe that was what I was thinking. You're trying to show me that I was fighting her, and that I killed her, not for revenge, but to protect the ones I love."

The High King nodded with a grin. "Yes, Edmund. You didn't kill in the name of revenge for what she had done to you, though I'm sure Beruna was on your mind just as it was on mine. Instead, you did what you had to in order to protect lives. You did want to kill her, but you didn't want to kill her for what she had done, rather what she would have done. Try not to dwell on it. What's done is done, Ed."

Nodding, Edmund smiled. "Yes, and that's not all that is done. I still have some explaining to do, I expect. About this duel challenge I issued for you…"

Peter grumbled. "Yes, do tell, Ed, how do you expect to pretend to be blonde-haired and blue-eyed, again? Because I just don't see any hair-dye in Narnia."

Edmund smacked his brother lightly on the arm.

"Peter!" He quieted down when Lucy and Susan stirred on their pallet, but didn't wake. "I know that," he continued in a whisper. "But we couldn't think of any other way to stall the Telmarines. With luck, if it comes to me fighting and I keep the helmet on, they'll never notice the deception."

Shifting against the wall, Peter tugged on his legs to get them to cooperate. "Don't you mean when, Ed? I'm not getting better here." He refused to meet Edmund's eyes when the younger brother looked over at him. "I don't want you to do it, Ed, I just don't. Your body is thirteen again, and you don't have nearly the muscle tone you did as an adult. I'm at least a little closer to it. Miraz is not a small man by any means and I think he'll throw his weight around more than fight with speed."

He could hear Edmund shifting beside him and suddenly a hand was tilting his head up. "I don't want to hear you even suggest you won't get better, Peter Pevensie. Because you will get better. Stop doubting, start believing in Aslan and maybe he can help you heal."

Peter smiled. "You're channeling Lucy, Ed…"

Laughing, Edmund nodded. "Yeah, I suppose I am. Get some sleep, it's going to be a long few days and this might be the last chance we have for a good night's rest."

The two brothers were so weary, it was only a matter of minutes before they were fast asleep, side-by-side on Peter's pallet since Edmund had been too tired to move again.

Caspian shifted in his sleep.

The dark-haired figure beside his pallet looked up, checking to see if the Prince was awake and seeing he wasn't, slumped back down to wait some more.

This went on for ten more minutes before a confused voice erupted from the sleeping Telmarine. "King Edmund, is there a reason you are fidgeting beside my pallet?"

Edmund jumped at the voice and glared at Caspian. "Well, yes, actually. I wanted to talk to you, and figured I would wait here until you woke. I didn't know you were aware of my presence and ignoring me."

Caspian chuckled. "I wasn't aware of it until just now. I'm a heavy sleeper. If Doctor Cornelius hadn't woken me the night my cousin was born, I would most definitely be dead right now."

He sat up and blinked until he could see Edmund clearly; or as clearly as one could see in the dark chamber since it was still an hour until sunrise. Moving to sit up, he grimaced and gripped his head.

"All right there?" Edmund asked, reaching forward to help the young man sit when he appeared to be wobbling unsteadily. "I never did ask what happened to you, just sort of ran off after you told me of the Witch."

Caspian proceeded to tell Edmund the events of the previous afternoon that had led up to the moment he slammed into him in the corridor. "I suppose my head is still a little concussed," Caspian said with a frown as he lightly rubbed it. "Queen Susan tended it, but there is only so much one can do from the outside."

Nodding in agreement, Edmund edged closer. "I wanted to speak with you about revenge."

For a moment Caspian looked like he would not agree to such a conversation. But he realized he would have to discuss his actions with the Kings and Queens of Old at some point or things would fester.

"What did you wish to say?" Caspian said quietly. "I already know my actions got many people killed and I will never be able to atone for that. It's a lesson I'll not soon forget."

Edmund shook his head. "I'm not here to place blame, Caspian. I just want you to know that we all feel the pull of revenge but it is the mark of a leader when one can resist that pull and stay loyal to what they are fighting for, not what they are angry about."

Caspian hung his head and nodded silently. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I have never done something like this before and I am not sure how to make amends for it."

The Just King settled in beside him and sighed. "I expect the only way to truly make amends is to learn from the mistake and in the memory of those who did die, vow never to do it again."

He looked up at Caspian. "Do you know what I was thinking when I saw the Witch stabbing Peter in that chamber? After everything she had ever done to us, including nearly kill me, I didn't think how much I wanted revenge on her, only how much I wanted to stop her.

"There is a difference, as my brother reminded me. And when I was fighting her, all I thought of was how much was riding on my beating her – the lives of my family, friends and subjects. I wanted to kill her, yes, but not because of what she had done to me in the past, but because I couldn't let her hurt anyone in the future."

Meeting Caspian's eyes, he added, "That's something that took me a while to learn." He paused. "How much do you know about what took place before my brother and sisters and I were crowned Kings and Queens? About how I betrayed my family and Narnia – for sweets?"

Caspian's gaze snapped up to meet his. "Sweets? Betrayed? I do not know of this…"

Edmund groaned. "Nothing of it? Surely you know I went to the White Witch of my own free will upon entering Narnia with the others?" As Caspian shook his head, Edmund put his head in his hands. "Then you do not truly understand how hard a decision it was not to kill Jadis in revenge. Sit back, it's quite a story."

This couldn't be happening! First Tumnus, and now that Fox. What had he been thinking, trusting this Witch and believing she would make him a prince or a king? She was evil, power-hungry, she had no use for him beyond bait for his brother and sisters.

Stumbling, he fell hard onto the floor of the Witch's carriage and scrambled to get up as the dwarf's whip hit him on the back and he cried out. "Move it!" the creature barked, laughing at the Son of Adam's pain.

Edmund set himself down quickly to avoid any further whipping and turned his gaze back to the still stone Fox for a moment, wishing there was something he could do to help him.

It had felt good to be called 'Your Majesty' but he felt far from royal right now. He had betrayed his family for sweets and the desire to get one-up on Peter. Edmund had almost always felt he was living in Peter's shadow and the chance to get ahead of him had just been so tempting.

Now, he only wished he was back in Peter's shadow, where he was at least safe. Ever since he had tried to be better, he had only managed to be so much worse.

As they rode toward this 'Stone Table' he had just revealed to Jadis, he remembered looking at his brother and sisters with no small amount of jealousy at the Beaver's dam.

He had been angry at Peter for once again taking charge. Oldest sibling or not, he never seemed to ask what the others thought. It wasn't just that he felt Peter was trying to be their father, it was much more than that. Edmund had wanted glory, wanted to be the better liked. Peter was always more popular with his good looks and many friends. Edmund had always been the stick in the mud and brooding boy no one sat with in school.

It had been why he had decided to start hanging out with trouble-makers this past year and that had marked the beginning of the war between Peter and Edmund.

Now, he wished for nothing more than his brother to scoop him up in his arms and protect him from the Witch, the dwarf, and the strange world he was floundering in.

Caspian was silent. His mind was reeling as he thought about his own reaction to his cousin's birth. How he had briefly felt intense anger and jealousy at being ousted from what he felt was his rightful place in the Telmarine court.

He had let those feelings come to the forefront when he suggested using the young child and his aunt against Miraz. And he knew he was still bitter when he had faced his uncle, wanting nothing more than to see him suffer for taking everything he had ever known away from him in one fell swoop.

"What happened next, King Edmund? Why did you not seek revenge on the Witch this time, when you had the skills to do so? She had led you to betray your family, used you to try and kill them." Caspian asked, needing to know the answer.

Edmund took a deep breath. "This is something I've not told anyone, mind you. But I think it could benefit you as it did me. You and I are very much alike, not like Peter, who I don't think has a selfish thought in his head, or Susan who could do nothing to hurt another, or Lucy, whose faith and innocence keeps her on the straight and narrow. We are the…the black sheep, perhaps…"

Caspian smiled lightly at that. There was something different about Edmund, and he was about to find out what had turned him from the scared, confused, and hurt boy who wanted to be greater than his brother, to the King who would follow the same brother's rule to the letter, no matter what it asked of him.

Edmund had never been so tired and sore in his life. As he walked beside the large Centaur, hands stuffed in his pockets, he couldn't help but mentally thank this Aslan fellow for his stroke of luck and his rescue.

When the Narnians had come charging into the camp, intent on rescuing him and nothing else, Edmund had felt his heart leap. Someone still cared about him, even though he had betrayed everyone and everything they believed in.

Now, he was on his way to Aslan's camp and he was afraid of what he would find. Would Peter and Susan and Lucy forgive him? He imagined the latter two would, but Peter… Peter was another story. His brother would be so disappointed, he just knew it, and it bothered him to no end for some reason.

Before he had wanted to be better than Peter, now he found he just wanted to make him proud. It was an oddly liberating feeling. Now, his thoughts turned to the Witch.

He hated her. Oh, how he hated her. After the way she'd tricked him and used him, he would dearly love to silence her acid tongue forever. His thoughts were halted when a valley full of bright red tents and milling troops came into view as the group breached the tree line.

"Behold, Aslan's encampment, my liege," the Centaur general said to Edmund, waving an arm to gesture toward the tents. "His Majesty, King Above All Kings, Aslan, is waiting for you just over that rise," he pointed out the rise in question and waited silently.

Edmund, realizing he was to go on alone, gulped and stepped forward, forcing himself to keep walking until he could see over the rise and stopped dead in his tracks.

A lion. A huge lion, more like.

"A…Aslan?" he asked, voice and body trembling, hoping this really was Aslan and not some wild beast that was going to attack and probably eat him.

The great golden head turned and the yellow eyes focused on him with such intense feeling and wisdom that Edmund almost took a step backwards under the heavy gaze.

"Edmund, Son of Adam, step closer."

The young boy did as he was bidden and stepped to within a few feet of the lion, his head bowed and eyes downcast. He didn't raise them even as Aslan addressed him.

"What's done is done, young Edmund," he said, his voice gentle and full of caring compassion. "I have no need to tell you what you have done wrong, I only wish to ask what you plan to do now."

Edmund did look up now. "Do? What do you mean, sir?"

Aslan looked beyond Edmund to the encampment below. "We will do battle with Jadis, whom you know as the White Witch, and you will come face-to-face with her again. I wish to know what you will do."

With a frown, Edmund followed his gaze to the camp and watched as the warriors sharpened blades, ate and laughed, and practiced in the archery field. "I want to make her pay for what she did to me," he said with honesty. "For making me betray my family."

There was a rumbling from Aslan's throat that startled Edmund and made him turn back to the lion. There was disappointment in those eyes and it pained him.

"She did not make you do anything you did not want to do, Edmund. Yes, her enchantment may have made it easier, but you did want to be king above your siblings. You did want to have glory they could not share in and set yourself apart from them. Do you wish to revise your previous answer? For it is not one of a King."

Edmund gulped and thought about it. "But, Aslan, I really do want to make her pay. Shouldn't I?" He turned a questioning gaze on the lion, whose face softened somewhat.

"No," he said simply. "To do so would make you no better than her. To kill for revenge is a coward's way out. I ask you again, Edmund, what would you do if you faced her on the battlefield?"

Edmund wanted to grumble to himself and ask Aslan to tell him what he should say, since he obviously couldn't figure it out for himself. Before his thoughts could resolve themselves, a loud call from below caught his attention.

"Edmund!"

He turned his gaze back down to the field below and saw Peter standing outside a tent looking up at him, gently restraining Lucy from running up the hill towards him.

There was no recrimination in his brother's eyes, nor was there forgiveness, but there was relief and there was love. He realized his answer stood there, waiting for him to finish his conversation with Aslan.

Turning back to Aslan, he said, "I would do what it took to protect my family. I've hurt them enough already with my actions. If it meant fighting her, I'd do it. If it meant dying, I'd do that too. If it meant letting her go, I…I would do it." The last was painful to say, but he knew, somehow, it was what had to be said.

Aslan rumbled again. "Then you, Son of Adam, will make a good King for my people. Go now, and be with your brother and sisters, for they have missed you greatly and fretted for your safety. We will not speak of this again, your betrayal is behind you and behind us. We move forward into the future and I shall hold you to your answer, Edmund."

The boy nodded lightly and headed down the hill to his waiting family.

"I was a bit annoyed at the time that Aslan wouldn't just give me a straight answer," Edmund said. "But I'm very glad he didn't, because it was really something I had to figure out for myself. I'm a much better person for it. He didn't have to even say it himself, but he taught me that revenge is not the way. Protecting my family, not hurting them, that was the answer. That's what I had to do. That is what you have to do, if the time comes," Edmund finished.

Having said his piece, King Edmund the Just stood, bowed lightly to Caspian and strode off into the dark chamber toward his brother's chamber leaving a contemplative Caspian in his wake.

If I end up being half the King that Edmund the Just has become, then I will be a great ruler, Caspian thought to himself as he settled back down to think about his uncle, his anger and his choices to come in the future.

The day before the duel, preparations were being finalized for a battle the Narnians hoped would be unnecessary – confidence in the ability of both their Kings enough to give them hope that a battle could be avoided.

Peter and Edmund, however, knew that even if whichever of them fought in the duel were to win, the Telmarines could not be trusted to honor the surrender stipulation and they would need to be ready to fight.

It was with this in mind that Peter called a meeting and had his brother and Caspian get him to the Stone Table room in order to attend. There was something that needed to be done that hadn't been, and he wasn't sure how his siblings were going to take it.

"I asked you all here because there is one more task that must be undertaken before tomorrow's duel and possible battle," Peter said, addressing the assembled Narnians from where he sat in front of the Stone Table. Shifting, he turned his gaze on Lucy. "We need to search for Aslan."

There was a flurry of voices, some angry, some incredulous, some fervently in support of Peter's words. He gave the Narnians a moment to get out their thoughts before calling out, "Quiet, please!"

A hush returned to the chamber as his voice magnified in the cavern. "This is a battle we cannot hope to win without Aslan's help, and I wish I had realized that sooner," he said, keeping his apologetic eyes on Lucy. "It's time we remember who really won the Battle of Beruna and call on him to aid us now. The duel will stall the Telmarines long enough for Queen Lucy to ride out and find Aslan."

Susan's sharp intake of breath was audible from across the room and he could see her brow scrunch up as she prepared to launch into a scathing lecture. Her tirade was cut off before it started when a quiet voice sounded beside her.

"Thank you, Peter. For believing in me."

Lucy stood up and turned to the Narnians. "I know Aslan is out there, I saw him. I know he will help us, if only we seek him out." She turned to Susan. "This was a surprise, Su, I didn't know he had it in mind. But I'm going, and I'd like for you to go with me."

Susan Pevensie was many things, but when it came to her sister Lucy, she was one above all – protective. The very idea that Lucy would be riding out to search for Aslan when the forest would be crawling with Telmarines almost had her disagreeing with Peter and refusing Lucy's request. But then again, she never could refuse the younger girl and instead she sighed and looked from Lucy to Peter. "I shall be going with her," she said quietly.

Edmund's jaw was working but he wasn't saying anything. He wished Peter had consulted him before making such a rash decision! The danger he was putting their sisters in was more than Edmund would have liked, but he could see the need.

He had been the one to remind Peter to believe in Aslan, and he suspected that had spurred Peter into action. This action. Lucy's persistence that she had seen the Lion probably played a large part too, of course.

With a shaky hand pushing through his hair, brushing it off his forehead, Edmund, upon whom all eyes had turned, nodded in agreement with his siblings. "It is for the best," he said tiredly. "If anyone can find Aslan, it is Queen Lucy. She has always been closely connected to him."

Peter smiled at his siblings, knowing how hard it must have been for them to agree with him without question. That had been partly why he'd brought up the topic in a full meeting – because they rarely contradicted their High King in front of others. Although he was sure he'd be hearing about it later from Susan and Edmund.

"Then we are set," he said to the masses. "Queens Lucy and Susan will leave at first light. In the event that the duel is unsuccessful or the Telmarines do not hold to their word, we will be in position to counter their attack as best as we can." He turned to Glenstorm in particular. "Those with youngsters in their family must decide if they wish to send them off or keep them at the How. It will not be easy to assure their safety here, but if you choose to let them stay, we will do all we can to protect them."

The Centaur, who'd already lost one of his sons, nodded solemnly, but didn't answer Peter's question. The High King knew it would take thought and trusted that those who had younger family at the How would approach him later with their decision.

"Are there any questions? Peter extended.

"Yeah, your big plan to save the day is sending a little girl into the dark forest, crawling with the enemy, with only one archer – albeit a great one – as her guard? I'm sure you trust your sisters dearly, sire, but it seems a bit foolhardy."

Trumpkin's gaze was focused on Lucy as he spoke, never wavering. She could see he was worried for her, and knew he cared deeply for her. With a small, weary smile, she rested a hand on his shoulder.

"It is the only way, dear little friend," she said quietly. "I want to do my part. It might be hard for some of you to understand, but I was once an adult and played much more of a role in our campaigns. I'm no fighter, but they don't call me Valiant for no reason, as Edmund would say," she added with a smile.

Trumpkin's own smile was a little forced, but he nodded. "I know you are Valiant, Queen Lucy. I just don't want to see you hurt." He turned to Peter, expecting an answer from his King.

Meeting the dwarf's gaze, Peter's eyes betrayed his own worry, but his voice held no sign of it. "I have full faith that Susan will protect Lucy, but if she cannot, we must have faith that Aslan will. I lost faith in Aslan and it got people killed. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," he said. "She will be no less protected riding out with Susan than if she were to remain here for a battle."

For a moment, Trumpkin appeared to want to argue more. But the hand still on his shoulder squeezed lightly. "Please have faith in me, Trumpkin," Lucy said, drawing his attention back to her. "I know I can do this, and I know I can find Aslan. Believe me?"

With a great huff, the dwarf nodded gruffly. "All right, Queen Lucy. I wish I could go with you, but the archers will need me since your sister will be accompanying you. May Aslan be with you and may you find him swiftly."

She smiled and her grip turned into a light pat as she set her gaze back on her oldest brother, who was watching her with pride and trepidation. She knew it hurt him to have to send her out, but she was glad he had found the strength and faith to do it.

"If no one else has anything to add…" Peter said, pausing to give someone a chance to speak. "Then there is one more matter to discuss." He nodded to a group of Fauns, who left the chamber and returned shortly with the dwarf Nikabrik and the werewolf, both bound at the hands and chained at the feet.

"We have to decide what is to be done with the traitors in our midst," Peter said as the Narnians glared, growled, and called out at the prisoners. The eldest Pevensie turned to Edmund, and let him take over.

Having passed judgment on many a Narnian in the past, Edmund got straight to the point. "You stand here accused of treason against High King Peter, Queen Susan, Queen Lucy, and myself by raising Jadis, the White Witch, from the dead, with the intention of seizing power for yourselves. You also stand accused of assaulting Prince Caspian, Queen Susan, and Queen Lucy." He paused as the assembled Narnians roared in outrage at the charges.

Once the uproar had died down, he continued. "Have you anything to say on your behalf?" he asked. When neither of them spoke, he turned to his brother and sisters. "It would be my suggestion to exile them and banish them from the protection of the How and the Narnian army. Should they return, their lives will be forfeit."

He turned back to the accused. "After all, they don't think us wise or strong enough to lead, so why should they receive our protection?"

Peter nodded his agreement, as did Susan and Lucy.

As Edmund pronounced the judgment and was about to order the Fauns to see it done, there was a commotion from one side of the room and Peter's gaze honed in on it first.

A hag, unseen and forgotten, was bearing down on Edmund, a crooked dagger clutched in her hand, intent on slaying the King who had killed her Mistress. She was less than five feet away from the younger King.

As the assembled Narnians began to realize that she was there, she suddenly leapt at Edmund, who was so close to her that he didn't have an opportunity to draw one of his swords in his own defense.

Before anyone could react, before Susan could even notch an arrow to her bow, a small, gold-hilted dagger flew across the chamber, skimming past Edmund's head, and buried itself in the hag's chest, halting her advance.

Clutching at the lion-headed hilt, the hag turned her beady black eyes toward the source of the dagger and with a piercing wail, toppled backward and ceased moving, landing just short of Edmund's feet.

Peter's arm was still extended from the throw and he was shaking lightly. Lucy, who had been extremely surprised when he'd grabbed the dagger from her belt, reached out to him and hugged him. "It's okay, he's all right," she said.

Edmund, shaken, hurried over and gripped Peter's shoulder with a small smile. "Thanks, brother-mine. That was a bit too close for comfort." Quietly, he added, "And to think, you keep saying you're useless. I think I have to disagree…"

Calming now that the threat was passed, Peter let a small smile grace his face as he watched Glenstorm set a centaur to removing the hag's body from the chamber as Edmund turned back to the Fauns and ordered them to take the exiled prisoners outside the How and release them.

Clearing his throat, the High King drew the attention of the crowd. "Tomorrow will be a long day, so this meeting is adjourned," Peter said to close the meeting, and watched quietly as the Narnians filed out of the chamber leaving his siblings and Caspian alone.

The prince stepped up to Peter and nodded in respect. "I hope I can find the courage to make such difficult decisions as you do, some day," he said to Peter. "I must ask if you are feeling any changes?"

Peter shook his head. "None, unfortunately. If you could, Caspian, I'd like to return to my chamber. I'm tired and wish for a little solitude." He turned to his siblings. "Would you give me a little time to myself? Just until nightfall?"

They nodded, wary that he would spend the time moping, but knowing he had just as much a right to rest as anyone. Susan, drawing herself to her full height, patted him on the shoulder. "No wallowing, Peter. You will get better, somehow, you always do." She stated she needed to brief her archers before the morning, and turned on her heel to find them, leaving Edmund and Lucy to linger beside Peter and Caspian.

"I'll go see to preparations in the tunnels," Edmund said, nodding his thanks to Caspian for aiding Peter, and then turning off himself and disappearing from the chamber. Lucy, raising her eyes, sighed. "Well I suppose I'll check the gryphons then," she said, and waved to Peter and left.

Peter turned his gaze to Caspian. "So, ready to lug this crippled King around again?" he said with a small, pained smile. Caspian glared with mock exasperation at the young man, but lifted him wordlessly and carried him back to the chamber off the main cavern.

"I shall leave you now, you'll need rest if you are to recover and fight tomorrow," Caspian said, once Peter was settled on his pallet.

He was turning to leave when Peter frowned and said, "I don't see myself dueling, but I thank you for your confidence nonetheless."

The eldest Pevensie was surprised when the prince turned and actually put his hands on his hips, exactly like Edmund was wont to do when Peter was being bullish. "High King Peter, where is that magnificent belief in yourself and Aslan I've heard so much about? Surely you haven't misplaced it?"

The young High King cocked his head to the side and a small chuckle escaped him. "You are channeling Edmund," he whispered, much to the prince's surprise. He sobered and added. "I'm sorry I despaired. I shall try harder not to, it is just such a late hour and there has been no change." He added quickly, "Thank you for your aid, ever since my legs went out, you've been a great help."

Caspian smiled. "It was no burden, my liege. You would have done the same." He bowed lightly and left Peter to his thoughts, which quickly turned from thoughts to dreams as the High King fell asleep thinking of Aslan and wishing he was here to help him.

"Why don't you stand, High King Peter?"

Peter mumbled as Lucy shook him from his sleep, "Aslan?" he whispered.

"No, silly, Lucy. I don't think I look like a great, big, golden lion, Peter."

The High King opened one eye and took in the sight of his youngest sister, dressed in riding gear, hovering over him. "Sorry, Lucy, I was dreaming of Aslan, I guess."

He sat up, looking beyond her to Susan, standing dressed and ready to leave. "So you are setting out then?" he said quietly, wishing nothing more than to hide them away from the upcoming battle.

"We'll be fine, Peter," Lucy said. "Caspian is lending us Destrier, and promised that Destrier will take fine care of us." Peter noticed the prince in the doorway and nodded his thanks.

As the siblings said their goodbyes, Caspian was struck by Queen Lucy in particular. Even though the ten-year-old was riding out into the midst of enemy-infested woods, she had not lost any of her faith that she would find Aslan and all would be well.

He was hard-pressed not to lose hope. He would flip-flop from being sure things would turn out fine, to being sure they would lose and would all die. Looking at Lucy in riding gear and Susan in battle dress, he realized faith was something he needed to start having.

If Lucy could believe so strongly in Aslan, and Peter could send his sisters out to find this mysterious being, than surely he was worthy of such faith? Surely Caspian could put his faith in him too?

"Ready?" Lucy asked, startling Caspian from his thoughts. As he looked into her eyes, firm and steady in the knowledge she would find their savior, Caspian nodded.

"Yes, I think I am." Ready to lead them off, and ready to believe. Beckoning to the two Queens, he led them through the tunnels to the make-shift stables where Destrier was waiting.

Edmund, waiting off to the side, stepped forward. "Still no change, Peter?"

The High King turned his gaze to his brother. "No, Ed," he said with a sigh. "Perhaps later." He locked eyes with the younger King. "Promise me, Edmund, if I don't get better in time, that you will not lose."

Edmund gulped. "I can't promise that, Peter, and I think you know it. But I can promise to be careful and use everything you and Oreius ever taught me to beat Miraz."

Peter nodded and let Edmund hug him. "It'll have to do, then," he said. "But, let's hope it won't be necessary. I'll see you in the morning, Ed." He released his hold reluctantly and Ed nodded, leaving his brother to sleep. He knew if he stayed in the room, he would only be a distraction, so he left and settled down to sleep just outside the small chamber.

Weary and saddened by his lack of recovery, Peter fell into a fitful sleep thinking, once again of Aslan and all but pleading for his help.

"Why don't you stand, High King Peter?"

Peter's eyes snapped up to meet the sage eyes of a great lion. "Aslan!" he breathed, heart surging with hope. "We hoped you would come, we need you! Will you help us in the battle?"

The lion shook his golden head, mane rippling. "I shall come to the battlefield when it is time for me to come," Aslan said, gazing at Peter with love. "But you needed me now and so I am here. I ask again, why don't you stand, High King Peter?"

The blonde boy frowned. "I can't, Aslan. My legs, they have no feeling. Lu's cordial didn't heal them. Is there anything you can do? My brother is set to fight a battle I'm not so sure he can win in my stead and I want nothing more than to help him, to help Narnia. I need my legs to do it."

Aslan looked at Peter for a moment. "Peter, dear boy, you don't need to ask my help when you've already received it." He backed up. "Now stand."

Unable to disobey the great lion, Peter dragged his feet under him and straightened his legs, surprised when he could feel them bear his weight. With a smile wider than he'd sported in ages, High King Peter the Magnificent was standing.

Edmund shrugged and bent, testing his mobility in his long unused armor. Lucy's cordial had healed his shoulder wound, but it had been (to him) many long years since he had used the armor he had worn at Beruna, and it felt a bit stiff.

Edmund gently fingered the small tear still present in the mail beneath his red tunic emblazoned with the golden lion and tried not to let the remembered pain of his wound bother him.

"Are you ready?" Caspian asked, standing beside Edmund. "If so, Glenstorm is prepared to walk out with you. I will fetch your brother from his chamber and bring him outside, somewhere he will not be seen by the Telmarines."

The Just King swallowed back his trepidation and nodded. "Thank you," he said. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be." He stood up, picking up his brother's sword and hefting it. "Glenstorm, here, I'll draw it when we reach the arena."

Nodding, the Centaur took hold of the sword and sheath as Caspian disappeared from the entrance of the How down toward Peter's chamber. Edmund turned toward the bright light of the day and the steady cheering and bleating of drums.

"This is it," he muttered, flipping the helmet visor down and hiding his face from view.

He and Glenstorm began their ascent onto the field and Edmund couldn't help but smile lightly at the rousing cheer the Narnians let out. As he walked, he could see Miraz in the distance and frowned at how much bigger the man seemed.

Edmund was jarred from his thoughts when the Narnian cheering faltered and there were gasps of surprise and shouts of excitement. Frowning, he turned around to see what was wrong and nearly toppled over in surprise.

Standing in the entrance to the How, dressed in full armor, was Peter.

Peter. In armor. Standing.

Edmund held in a whoop and it took all his effort to hold his ground and let Peter come to him. The elder Pevensie appeared to have no trouble walking as he moved quickly out onto the field and stopped a foot or so away from Edmund, eyes bright and deep blue in the afternoon sun.

"Were you going to start without me?" he said with a broad smile as Edmund jerked the helmet from his head and flipped back the mail covering his dark hair. "And here I thought the challenge was issued in my name?" Reaching forward, he pulled Ed into an awkward embrace, both of them hindered by their armor.

The younger King stuttered. "P…Pet…Peter, you're standing. When? How? Why didn't you say anything?"

As they turned and walked toward the ring, Peter explained quickly that he had dreamt of Aslan and when he woke, he had been healed. "I feel perfectly fine," he said. Though his chest was a bit sore still, he wouldn't say so to Edmund. "And I feel much better now that you don't have to fight."

His brother muttered under his breath, half in jest, half not, "I do too, he's a lot bigger up close."

Peter laughed lightly as they reached the ring, but sobered quickly as the gravity of the situation hit them both. Miraz, dressed in full armor, was glaring hatefully at the brothers, Peter in particular.

Turning to Glenstorm, Peter unsheathed Rhindon without hesitation, years of tournament fighting still ingrained in his younger, but still honed body.

Without further ado, the assembly watched as the combatants stepped onto the field, their helmets tucked under their arms, swords held loosely. As they watched, the young High King raised his blade in front of his face before tipping it forward in a courteous salute to his opponent, a gesture Miraz returned, before both fighters donned their helms.

Edmund watched from the side, praying to Aslan that Peter was up to this and praying that Lucy and Susan found the great lion soon.

In a clatter of swords and shields, the fight was on.

A/N: Cliffie, I know, sorry. But it's 1:30 in the morning here!!