Gosh, I am sooooo sorry (to anyone who reads this, though I doubt there are many)! I've been so busy with school, and then I was trying to finish 'Three-Step' when I actually had time to write, and then I got sucked into Merlin (which I actually have my own idea for a story :D - A Star Wars AU in which Merlin is Luke and Arthur Han, and I'm going to write it but may not put it up).

I'm still really busy so this may be the last update for a while (stupid A-Levels...) but I'll try and write at least another chapter before I go to Spain for Easter and I'll definitely focus back on this story after the exams.

Someone mentioned in a review not to make it too like the book/movie - I'll try, but it needs to be for a while since the action is set during it and I can't just leave it out, but I'm trying to focus more on reactions rather than on what's happening during those parts. It will deviate more later.

It probably isn't worth the wait, but...I hope you enjoy it and please review!

Chapter 2
Winter Light

We got back to Narnia a few days later. We had been playing cricket outside – for the weather had cleared – when Edmund had hit the ball through a window. We immediately rushed inside, only to find a scene of destruction and to hear footsteps swiftly approaching. In a panic, we fled and Edmund suggested hiding in the wardrobe. This time we got through to Narnia and we decided to borrow the coats and explore.

We set off towards Mr Tumnus' house and somewhere along the way Peter figured out that Edmund had lied and tried to make him apologise. He did, after a bit of threatening, but I just shrugged it off uncomfortably. I don't know why, but it just felt…wrong…somehow for Edmund to be forced to apologise, and an inexplicable anger swelled up inside me. 'Peter has no right to order Edmund like that!' I thought and had to fight the irrational urge to glare at Peter.

Upon reaching Mr Tumnus' house, we found it ransacked, and all because he had helped me. I felt sick. Peter and Susan seemed to think we should leave after that, but something inside me began to scream in protest. I just felt like I couldn't leave, I just couldn't! It was as if there was a pull, as if I was meant to be here. It felt…right.

We met a beaver, a talking beaver, who brought us back to his house and his wife made us tea. To be honest, they seemed a little shell shocked around us, acting the way you'd expect someone to around their favourite singer or film star.

We sat down at the table with our tea and some fish for dinner and I managed to hold out until we had finished eating before I burst out, "What happened to Mr Tumnus?"

The beaver shook his head sadly. "From the direction they were seen taking him, it looks like the Witch has taken him to her House." He shared a glance with his wife. "And we all know what that means."

"Well, no." Susan cut in. "We don't."

"Well, there's not many who go in there and come back out again. All full of statues, they say it is. People she's," he gulped, "turned to stone."

I swallowed thickly at that. It was my fault, all my fault. Because of me, kind Mr Tumnus was going to be turned to stone. I looked up when I felt a hand on my arm, only it wasn't a hand, but Mrs Beaver's paw. "There is hope, dear." She said comfortingly. "Isn't there, Beaver?"

"Oh yeah," Mr Beaver hurriedly agreed. "There's a great deal more than hope!" He leant forward, lowering his voice. "Aslan is on the move."

He looked around at us, obviously expecting some sort of reaction, but as I looked at the others, their faces were blank. As for me, I felt a strange warmth at that; a feeling of safety and comfort…of home.

"Who is Aslan?" Susan finally spoke up what we were all thinking, though I felt strange as I did so – as though I really did know, just couldn't remember,

Mr Beaver began to laugh, clearly thinking that this was all just some sort of joke, but Mrs Beaver quickly nudged him and he really looked at our faces. "You don't know, do you?" he asked in amazement.

"Well, we haven't exactly been here very long." Peter defended himself.

"He's only the true King – Lord of the whole wood." He shook his head in disbelief.

"He's been away for a long while," Mrs Beaver said gently, "very upset, he was."

"But he's just got back!" Mr Beaver cut across excitedly. "And he's waiting for you near the Stone Table."

"He's waiting for us?" Susan exclaimed, shocked, but somehow I got the feeling that Mr Beaver's statement was more directed at me…

"You must be joking!" Mr Beaver groaned, turning to his wife. "They don't even know about the prophecy!" He glanced quickly at me. "Neither of them!"

I frowned. There are four of us. Unless he meant there are two prophecies…

"Well," Mrs Beaver cut across him calmly. "We'll just have to tell them."

Mr Beaver sighed. "Look. There's a prophecy:
'When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone
Sits at Cair Paravel in throne,
The evil time will be over and done.'"

"It has long been foretold that two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve will fulfil the prophecy and restore peace to Narnia."

Peter laughed. "And you think we're the ones?"

The Beavers shared a look. "We know you are. Aslan's already fitting out your army."

Susan looked alarmed, turning to Peter. "Mum sent us away so we wouldn't get caught up in a war."

"Look, I think you've made a mistake." Peter said calmly, but with a hint of desperation. "We're not heroes."

Susan stood up. "Thank you for your hospitality, but we really have to go."

Throughout all of this I was deep in thought, trying to sort out all of the feelings rushing through me; the feeling of home, pride, and generally as though everything that was happening now was right. I'd never felt like that in England. Though for the last while another feeling had crept in, a feeling of unease that was steadily growing.

I was ripped from my thoughts when I heard Mr Beaver pleading. "But you can't leave!" What? Leave? No!

"No! We can't leave!" I burst out, turning to Peter and Susan, who were both standing now. "Can't you see? These people need our help!"

"It's out of our hands, Lucy." Peter said firmly, but I shook my head in exasperated disbelief.

"Can't you feel it? We're meant to be here!"

"That's enough, Lucy." Susan said sternly. I was about to argue when Peter spoke again.

"Come on, let's go. Ed?" But Edmund didn't reply. When we looked round, he wasn't there. "Where'd he go?"

"Oh no." The Beavers muttered. Mr Beaver turned to us. "Has Edmund ever been to Narnia before?"

Peter and Susan looked at each other, but I gasped in horror, understanding what Mr Beaver was trying to say and the uneasy feeling that had been growing as Edmund got farther away from us and closer to… "No! He…he hasn't…" Peter and Susan glanced questioningly at me and I finally forced it out. "He's gone to the White Witch!" They shook their heads in disbelief. "That's where he went when he came here! That's why he looked so dazed!"

"She must've given him some of her enchanted sweets." Mrs Beaver said worriedly. "What's his favourite sweet?"

"Turkish Delight." I answered without a thought, though Peter and Susan seemed to be having trouble thinking of it.

The Beavers shared a significant look that I could make neither heads nor tails of. "That's her speciality." Mr Beaver said, though I got the feeling that he was saying something else entirely.

We headed out to see if we could find him, but he must've already reached the Witch's House because we saw no sign of him and so we hurried back to the Beavers' Dam. "We must go to Aslan," Mr Beaver told us as he and his wife scurried around looking for supplies. "He's the only hope for your brother now. Plus, the secret police will be here soon."

We helped the beavers gather supplies before we escaped, though I couldn't help but notice that Mr Beaver had hesitated when he called Edmund our brother, as though he didn't really believe it.

Edmund POV

As I walked across the courtyard to the Queen's – Witch's – House, I realised that the beaver was right, it was covered in statues and the thought that these were once living, breathing creatures made a shiver of unease run down my spine. I wasn't even sure why I was doing this. I mean, deep down I really believed what Lucy said, as I usually do, but this wasn't just the usual feeling that I get when Peter and Susan are around.

This wasn't just an inexplicable urge to close off and lash out at everyone – especially Lucy – whenever they're around. It's different when it's just Lucy and me, though. When it's just us, it's so easy to ignore that little urge in the back of my mind, but as soon as Peter or Susan walks in…

The thing is, I don't even dislike Lucy; in fact I really like her. She doesn't deserve what I do to her and yet she doesn't stop forgiving me and I can't stop doing it – it's an endless cycle – just like I can't stop myself from continuing onwards to the Witch's House.

Only it's not the same. It isn't simply an urge, a compulsion, that can be overcome – it's a need. A burning, twisting need that I couldn't resist if I tried. I don't even remember consciously making the decision to come here. – one moment I'm in the beavers' dam listening to them talk about Aslan and the next I'm out in the snow, heading towards the home of the Witch.

It isn't as though I don't believe them about Aslan – I do. And when I think of him, or hear his name mentioned, I get this warm feeling inside – a feeling of being protected – and Lucy comes to mind for some inexplicable reason.

I reached the doors and crept inside, unable to shake the unease. I was walking hesitantly across to the staircase when I was jumped by a giant wolf "Who's there, stranger?" it growled.

I scrambled for something to say. "I – I'm Edmund. The Queen told me to come see her, I – I'm a Son of Adam." Using the strange Narnian phrase for human may have been what saved my life, but the thing is, I didn't do it on purpose. It just slipped out, as though it was the sort of thing I said all the time. It felt natural, using such a phrase, like a habit I had always had, something from a far off memory, but that couldn't be. I'd never been to Narnia before.

The wolf stepped back, allowing me to stand. "Come in, fortunate favourite of the Queen – or else, not so fortunate." I puzzled over what he could've meant as I followed him inside, but soon was distracted by the grandeur of the insides, though for all its beauty, it was cold and hostile.

The wolf left me at the top of the steep staircase leading towards the throne as he went to get the Witch-Queen. I stood there looking at the throne-like chair for some time. When I first met her, she had promised me the throne, as a prince at first and later King. She had said she would make Peter and Susan servants and Lucy my Queen. Why would she make Peter and Susan servants and yet Lucy Queen? It didn't make sense.

The Witch-Queen's arrival brought me back from my musings. "I came back," I told her. "Just like you said." I don't know why; my mouth seems to work of its own volition around her – as it does when I'm around Lucy and others and start saying horrible things to her – as though eager to please her.

"Tell me, Edmund," she said pleasantly, with a thin layer of ice below. "Are your sisters deaf?"

"No." I answered, furrowing my brow in confusion.

"And your brother, is he…unintelligent?"

"Well, I think so," came out of my mouth without my permission or thought, "but mum says-"

H er pleasant facade cracked then and she glowered, towering over me in her fury. "Then how dare you come alone?"

"I-I…" I took a step backwards. She didn't look so beautiful anymore – she looked terrible and frightening. "I tried! They don't listen to me! But I did bring them halfway," I heard myself saying. "They're with the beavers."

She watched me for a moment, before speaking. "Well. I suppose you're not a total loss then." I was too afraid to ask for more Turkish Delight – I knew I wouldn't get it – but somehow the request came out of my mouth anyway. The Witch-Queen looked at me for a moment before turning to the dwarf who I had always seen by her side, with a small, nasty-looking grin. "Our guest is hungry."

The dwarf grinned back – that same nasty-looking grin – and stepped over to me, holding a knife to my back. "This way."

He led me off with the knife but I paused in the doorway when I heard the Witch-Queen calling for the wolf, Maugrim she called him. "You know what to do." She said and the wolf grinned maliciously before calling the other wolves. That was when it fully dawned on me.

These wolves – the Witch's police – were heading to the Beavers' Dam, after Peter, Susan and Lucy, where I had told them they'd be! I felt sick. I didn't actually want them hurt. Especially Lucy… For some reason, she was all that came to mind then, the one I panicked about. Logically, I knew Peter and Susan were in danger too and I was worried, but it was as though Lucy was my only family, the only one I cared about. I know I had always cared more about her than anyone else – though you wouldn't know it by how I acted, or maybe you would. Maybe I was horrid to her around others because I was afraid that if I showed how much I cared in front of them, they'd realise and they might take Lucy away from me.

I shook my head to clear it, wondering how that thought came into my head, but it didn't change the fact that when the dwarf pushed me into a cell with a stale lump of bread and a cup of water – frozen in the ice palace – the only thought in my mind was hope for Lucy's safety.

Hope you liked it! :)