Whew three updates in a week! I am on a roll! My fingers are soooo sore. This chapter is not what i thought it would be but I hope you all like it. And thank you so so much for all of the wonderful reviews! Every single one makes me smile. I love you all and thank you so much!

Susan gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. She knew it. That evil twisted sexist little coachroach! He better hope he did not meet Susan on the battlefield or she would not be so gentle. See him try and hit on her with an arrow through his heart! Her brain was trembling with anger. She was going to kill him. She was going to kill him. Lucy gasped.

"Why would someone do something like that!"

The four siblings were in the common room, in shock, waiting in agony while the Professor and physician's tried to work on Capian. Tried everything they could to get the poison out of his system. They had tried everything, and the Professor was at the end of his rope. When the charcoal didn't work, for a moment the Professor feared that nothing would. Apparently, the king had been recieving amphatike in several smaller doses and then a particularly large one. If only they had Lucy's cordial...

Edmund snorted and shook his head in disgust. "How thick can we get?" he said. Peter raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to ask him to elaborate and was cut off.

"Of course. Don't you get it? Tristan and Kasim got someone to slip it in his soup or something. Don't you see!" he said, standing up from his chair. Silence. He grunted and grabbed Susan's shoulders and gave her a shake.

"Tristan gave Caspian the amphatike to make him someone he is not, right?" Susan nodded. "To bring out the very worst Caspian could possibly be?" She nodded. "Yeah...'

"And he's been hitting on you non stop since the wedding, right?" She nodded. "Right..."

"Don't you see? Tristan wanted you to think Caspian's something he's not and get scared. The little git wanted to trick you into thinking Cas was a dirty hot tempered explosive pig who was only after one thing from the beggining so that you would get scared and leave him. And then Tristan would sweep in and make his move and get you to run off to Telmar with him!" Edmund all but screamed.

Susan didn't say anything. She could see Edmund's mouth moving but the words were just empty jibberish. Susan was no fool. Edmund was one thousand percent correct, she knew in her gut that was exactly what had happened. But still, she was numb. She hated that she was the cause of this. She was married for Aslan's sake and angry suitors were still starting wars over her. And she hated it. She absolutely hated it. And she was scared. She was terrified. Her stomach was tying itself in soccer ball sized knots for hours. She was deathly deathly scared for her husband. If something happened to him because of her, she would never forgive herself. If something happened to him, she would lose it. She couldn't live if her husband didn't. The idea of losing Caspian took her breath away. Susan could not even process that, it scared her so badly. Living without him again would be like trying to live without air.

She felt movement next to her and screamed when Peter put his arm around her. He pulled back like he had touched a scalding pan. Susan's heart stopped for a moment and tears clogged her throat and started to suffocate her. Susan pulled away from Peter and put her head in her hands when an image of Caspian writhing and screaming and begging for relief and help penetrated her mind. Her lungs constricted inside of her and when she took a breath, nothing happened. Bile rose in her throat, the acrid taste burning her eyes.

"Hey, hey its just me. Peter, your brother. It's alright." Peter whispered soothingly, rubbing slow circles on her back. Her back trembled with her sobs, Peter could feel her spine tingling."No, no its not! It's not okay Peter! There is nothing about my husband being poisoned because of me that is okay!" she choked out at him in a strangled voice, looking at him with her puffy red face for a moment before turning back to cradling her head. Lucy sniffled and gently took her sister's hand away from her face.

"Susan..." she said softly, "this is not your fault. You-he-Tristan is...rude and obnoxious and kniving and spoiled and he's a terrible person but you, you are not. Susan look at me. You are a beautiful person. And don't you dare even try to even pretend otherwise. Tristan, Tristan sees your hair and your eyes and you curves and your lips and you face but Caspian, Caspian sees the smile and the sweetness and the courage and the strength and the gentleness and...amazing person that you are. People like Caspian are not meant to die by the hand of people like Tristan or Kasim," Lucy whispered. For just a fraction of a second, Susan's sob caught in her throat and her shoulders stopped shaking.

She slowly removed her hands from her face and turned her face to her sister. "Just promise me he is going to be okay."

Peter put his hand on her shoulder and Edmund grabbed her hand. "He is going to be okay."

Kasim. Was. Mad.

He was more than mad. He was furious. Positively seething. He paced and ranted and raved and screamed and yelled in the carriage. And truthfully, it was begining to scare even Tristan.

Mariella was just numb. She still couldn't wrap her mind around what had happened. She just really could not believe that Caspian had actualy punched her brother. It just...didn't make sense. Caspian had always seemed so nice. And personally, she was glad someone had finally put her jerk brother in his place. And in her opinion, Tristan certainly deserved it. If you are continually making suggestive comments and flirtacious advances and inviting someone's wife to take walks and go riding and explore the town of course her husband is going to get protective and irate and eventually make some kind of agressive move. So really, she was very proud of Caspian. But she was terrified for Narnia. Telmar was huge. There army was enormous. They could crush the Narnian army with one stamp of their foot.

And Mariella loved Narnia. She absolutely loved it. It was perfect. She could actually feel the magic in the air. She loved the ocean and the Trees and the creatures and the talking animals. And then of course there was Peter. His name sent shivers down her spine. Peter was just...wonderful. She had not seen him nearly as much as she had wanted to but she knew that he was the one. His smile, his eyes, his hair, his deep voice, his laugh...it was intoxicating. She loved his laugh. He was a strong king and fierce warrior, diplomat, big brother and friend but most of all he was a person. A reall living breathing mistake making prank pulling person. High King Peter was truthfully the most real person Mariella had ever met. At home, everyone was stiff and cold and hard and fierce and everyone was just at everyone's throat all the time and every word had double meaning. Nothing at home was real. But Peter, Peter was real.

Peter wasn't just a vegetable like Tristan or her father or the general or the lords. She had seen him give speeches and propose toasts and speak to embassadors and dignitaries and discuss politics and argue politely with kings and be the perfect example of a king. But she had also seen him cry when he gave his sister away. She had seen him fall flat on his face out of a tree, though he didn't know she saw. She had seen him playing tag with Lucy or tickling Susan and wrestling with Edmund. She had seen him tossing snowballs at his brother in laws face and being knocked into the snow by his sisters and having the time of his life. She had seen Peter and she had seen King Peter. And she quite liked them both. And she despised that they were leaving because of her stupid brother's inabilitly to just keep his hands to himself and stop hitting on a married woman.

"Father he hit me! He hit me father he hit! I want to declare war right now!" Tristan whined like a toddler, stomping his foot impatiently at every other word. Mariella pressed the cloth to his bleeding nose just a little too hard and he yelped and glared at her. She batted her lashes at her brother. "Oops.""

Kasim paced furiously back and forth, making the whole carriage shake dangerously, lost in thought and remaining in a furious silence.

"Malicia, get the stationary so Fathe can start writing the declaration of war!'' Tristan barked. Malicia rolled her eyes. "Your nose is broken, not your legs. Get it yourself." she said snarkily. Tristan opened his mouth and then closed it. Arianna giggled.

"Father did you hear what she just said to me! Father do something, did you hear how your daughter just spoke to me!" he whined again. Mariella resisted the urge to give him a fat lip to match his broken nose.

"Quiet! Stop your whining I am trying to think!" Kasim barked at his son for the first time in his life. Tristan imitated a fish and closed his mouth and then opened it.

"But father, that bloody traitor hit me Father! Father he hit me! Aren't you going to do something! We could crush their entire country with one blow! And then if we killed Caspian X the barbarian queen would have no choice but to come to Telmar! Her sister could be a slave in our home and take care of our children! She would have no brothers to stop her! They would all be dead! Fathe we have to declare war now father! FATHER are you listening to me!"

"Would you sop your whining for on e moment so I can think! We cannot attack now. They will be expecting us. We have to wait. We will lie low for a while until the Narnians think we have forgotten about the assault on the prince and do not intend to make war over it. And then when they least expect it we attack,'' Kasim said with a twisted smile. Mariella's jaw dropped and she stood up.

"Father how dare you! How can you even think that way! Of course King Caspian hit Tristan he was going after his wife! The kings and queens are perfectly lovely and I will not stand by and let you murder them. Don't you think you are getting to old for these dark twisted games? It is just not right father. I am sure King Caspian will apologize and if you two could just talk instead of fighting. What if Tristan gets killed in a war that you started on purpose for no reason? How would you feel then?" Mariella said in a strong, unwavering voice. But Kasim was not listening. He was pacing, stroking his disgustingly pointed beard and deep in thought.

He grabbed Tristan by the shoulder. "Do you remember what I told you the day before we left? About the amphatike? How much did you get that soldier to put in?" he said to Tristsan in a voice too low for the girls to hear. Tristan considered for a moment.

"One vial father. Just like you instructed. Three drops at breakfast and four at dinner, just like you instructed."

Kasim gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. "And for how long?"

"How long has the man been putting poison in the Kings food? Three weeks after the wedding.''

"Then how did you manage to use only one vial you stupid stupid boy! You were supposed to put in six drops at breakfast and eight at dinner five days after the wedding you stupid stupid stupid boy! You should have used at least three by now you fool! And what, did you put half of the vial in his soup last night!" Kasim said in a low, dangerous voice. The princeses were all talking and fighting quite heatedly right now about which of the Kings was best looking.

Tristan paled slightly. That was exactly what he did. Kasim yelled and began pacing frantically. Now he was really angry. Little did he know how well his plan was still working.

Caspian was on fire. His throat, his neck, his chest, his legs, his arms, his muscles, everything was on fire. It was like his family had strapped him down and set the bed on fire. His sheets were drenched with his sweat and his long hair was plastered all around his face. His eyes burned and seemed to water acid. And the Professor was starting to panic. Caspian could see that although the old man tried desperately to hide it. No one thought he would make it.

The tremors were perhaps the worst part. They rocked and shook him and rolled through his body so violently that as good a man as he was, Caspian couldn't help but shout at Edmund at least once to just take his sword and put him out of his misery. He thought his heart would burst it beated so fast. The lewd profanities and malicious insults flew out of his mouth left and right, each one hittin their target. The heart. Edmund and Peter tried so hard to block him out and not take anything he called or said to them seriously. He could not be blamed for his horrid comments but the scathing remarks still left the kings questioning whether the poison was bringing out the truth.

Susan had made herself mad with worry. Peter had refused to allow either of his sisters into the sick room as the fifth Pevensie retched and vomited and yelled and writhed and screamed repetitively. Lucy really was afraid her sister would drive herself to lunacy. Lucy had to physically have the guards carry her to her old bedroom. No one thought he would make it through the night. According the the professor, he had been recieving small doses of the vile stuff for months but had had very recently ingested a very large amount of the poison. Amphatike was odorless and colorless and Susan was convinced that Tristan had paniced and poured several doses into the soup the previous night.

No one thought he would make it through the night. But thanks to those that love him, he did.

In Cair Paravel, there are only two gates of which to escape. That is not a very good idea.

Caspian lasted the night. Every time he woke, he prayed to Aslan that he hadn't. The pain was slicing, stabbing him like a hundred thousand knives. He truly honest to Aslan thought he was going to die. His heart was going to explode. It had pumped so much acrid poison through his in the last two and a half hours that he could almost feel it turning black in his chest. Shrivelling and curling and wrinkling into nothing. He sucked in a shaky breath and closed his eyes, ready to see his father after all of those then, he thought of Susan.

The softness of her hair, the smoothness of her sking, the ring of her laugh. And he thought of them and all that they had been through together and all that was yet to come for them. He did not deal with intolerable agony and excruciating pain for three years and allow the pain of what could have been to fester and boil inside of him for months and tear him apart piece by piece just to be killed by a spoiled teenage boy who was after his wife. He did not scream out her name and lay awake in bed and stare at the paintings of her and sitting in her thrown and run his hands across the fabric of her dresses for three years to leave her permanently after only two months of marriage. Just lay down and give in to the agony. No, he did not think so. Not when he had so much to live for. A country, a wife, a family. Maybe he grew up without any affection or love but now he was drowning in it. Two brothers, the little sister he had always wanted and most importantly, the wife he never dreamed of having.

He had so much to live for. He would live to see the day Susan held their baby in her arms and passed their little daughter or son over to him with tears pouring down her face. He would live to hear Lucy laughing and squealing as their baby reached up and gave her wavy hair a little tug. He would live to laugh until tears came when their baby would vomit all over him and then start crying for his mommy. He would live to see the day Peter would babysit his son or daughter. He would live to see the day his baby would take his first steps and open his or her eyes for first time. He would live to hear his teenager screaming and yelling and storming about the palace and then coming into their bedrooom late late at night to apologize. He would live to hear the pitter patter of little feet and years of changing diapers and heating up bottles. He would live because he had reason to. He would live for his family and his country and he would live to see the day his baby was born.

And so he kept fighting. He struggled and fought this awful force that was coursing through his veins, singeing his cells and burning his flesh. But deep deep inside, he knew it would not be enough. And so did Edmund.

Amphatike was not the sort of poison that would not just eventually work its way out of your system. It wormed its way into your very core, wedged itself right between the muscles of your heart, tucked away safely forever. But still it grew stronger. It still festered and bubbling inside the very crevice of your heart. It was the sort of poison that no matter how good you are, it becomes a part of you. And it will always stay inside of you even after all the traces are gone and you are good and well and strong again, it is still there. Unless, unless you had some divine sort of magic or power. Unless you had Lucy's cordial.

But they didn't. But that did not worry the Just King. For he would find it. He would find it and he would bring it back. Because his brother needed it. And there was nothing he would not do for his brother. There was nothing he would not do to save his sister's love. And no matter what Lucy or Peter or Susan said, they could not stop him becuase not only did his brother need it, his best friend needed it. Edmund had made up his mind. And once Edmund made up his mind about something, even the wrath of the Gentle Queen could not change it.

To save Caspian, Edmund would return to the place of his greatest mistake. To save his brother, Edmund would return to the sight of every bad memory every sad feeling every twinge of guilt and betrayal. Place of his capture and escape. Place of his sister's attack.

To save his brother he would go to the Witch's castle.

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