AN: Hey guys! Cool, crazy stuff in this chapter. You get to meet Becca as well. Tell me if you like her! The idea for the Gift is from Graceling, which is an awsome book! It wasn't my idea! Reivew! Thanks.

We walked into Aslan's Camp. The picturesque landscape was as green and full as before. The red and gold tents, with their flags emblazoned with the Golden Lion, were the same. It looked just like when I'd left it, except there were a lot more people staring at us. Also, there were several more tents than before. Lucy was gazing around in delight. Susan and Peter just looked amazed. While we passed them, people started following us. "Why are they all staring at us?" Susan asked.

"Maybe they think you look funny," Lucy replied, making Peter and I grin.

"Alex! You're back!" I turned to see Becca running towards me, her reddish-brown hair whipping around her face in the breeze, her green eyes alert and alive, as usual.

"What's been happening around here, Becca? There are a lot more people than I remember."

"Everyone's been out 24/7 recruiting. We got fifty more yesterday." She looked over at the Pevensies. "Are they the Four? Why are there only three of them?"

"Their little brother, Edmund, got kidnapped by the Witch. Actually, he betrayed them."

"Crap."

"Yep. That about sums it up. C'mon. I want you to meet them." We walked over to them. "Hey guys. This is my little sister, Becca. Becca, this is Peter, Susan, and Lucy."

"Hi," Becca said. She looked at me. "Boy, you're filthy. And wounded. Geez, Alex. You leave for a day, and when you come back, you're hurt." Her eyes widened. "And drained!"

Peter snickered. "I've never had to be looked after by my little sisters."

"Oh, you just shut it." I turned around, shaking my head, and saw Delah, the Healer, coming out of the white tent that was the infirmary. Delah is a water nymph, and is about as sweet as you can get, but don't cross her. Trust me on that. She looks like a kindly old woman, and can't be more than four feet tall. She took one look at me, and stalked over.

She curtsied to the Peter, who bowed back, and Susan and Lucy, who followed her example, by curtsying. Then she turned to me. "Alex, how many times do I have to tell you, don't drain yourself when you're wounded? How many times?" Her gaze could kill a fully-grown male Minotaur. "Well?"

"A 'hello' would've been nice."

"You are wounded. And drained. I'm not about to waste my time with small talk. Now, what happened?"

"I was wounded after I was drained, Delah," I said meekly. My sorry excuse didn't even faze her.

"I don't care. Come on." I looked at the Pevensies. Peter was trying very hard not to laugh. I knew what it must look like. Me, with my tough-girl looks and all my weapons, being cowed by a tiny, old woman.

"Delah –" I started.

"No! Come on! What is the number one rule for every warrior? Answer me!"

"Don't argue with a healer." I was nearly cowering. I heard Peter choke, while trying to hold his laughter back. I shot Becca a look. Help me! She shook her head, grinning. As I was lead off, I heard Peter laughing. He was going to die on the training courts. I would make sure of that.

In the infirmary, Delah sat me down on a bed, rolled up my sleeve, and proceeded to interrogate me about the Four. "What are they like? Actually, what is the oldest boy like?"

"Well, he's about as sarcastic as I am. He's funny, cheerful, very protective of his family, cares about other people's feelings, doesn't like to see me hurt, a natural swordsman, brave, magical, infuriating in a way that makes me want to laugh when I really should punch him, and all-together, not bad."

"He's magical?"

"Yep. So is the youngest girl. I don't know about the older one. I don't think she likes me very much, and I think my eyes scare her a bit. The others look me in the eyes like there's nothing wrong with them."

"Honey, that's because there's nothing wrong with your eyes. One green-blue and the other hazel. They're much prettier than mine. You're Gifted. Do they know that?"

"No. And I don't want to tell them. They'd despise me like the others. They probably don't even know what being Gifted means."

Her kind eyes, one brown the other black, looked at me with concern. "They won't despise you, dear. Trust me on that. And you aren't supposed to argue with a healer." I couldn't help smiling. "If I'm not mistaken, your King is coming."

"He's not my King, Delah."

"You don't know that. There. Your arm's done, and I put some magic on the bandages so you'll heal even faster than you usually do."

"Thanks Delah."

"You're always welcome, my dear."

Peter ducked into the curtained off room. "Hello, My Lady," he said to Delah.

"Your Majesty. And, please. Call me Delah," Delah answered, with a curtsy. Peter nodded.

"Then call me Peter."

"Well then, Peter. I'll leave you two alone. Oh, and Alex? Think about what I said. It helps to come clean. Then you know who your real friends are." She slipped out.

"What was that about?" Peter asked.

"She wanted me to tell you that I haven't been completely honest with you." I had to get this over with quickly, or else someone else would tell him.

He came over and sat on the bed next to me. "What do you mean?"

I took a deep breath. "I'm Gifted."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Gifted?"

I nodded. "Ever since I came to Narnia, my eyes have been blue-green and hazel. It's the sign of the Gifted. It means we're much better at something than others are. There are several fauns and centaurs that are Gifted with sword fighting. When I first came here, they thought I was a dancer, because I was flexible and strong. They thought that until my first day of training. I was doing hand-to–hand combat with a faun, and I-" I couldn't go on. My shoulders were shaking, and I felt tears coming to my eyes. Peter slipped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me up against him. I buried my face in his shirt and went on. "I – I –I killed him. I hit him in the face, really fast, and then he - he didn't get back up. Oh, Peter!" I collapsed into his shoulder, sobbing. He pulled me onto his lap and just held me, whispering comforting words in my ear, telling me it was okay. I looked up at him; my eyesight blurred with tears, and I whispered, "I have the killing Gift. It's the reason I'm so good at fighting. It's not me, it's my Gift. I don't want it. Only Oreius would train with me. Delah is like a grandmother, Aslan is like a Father, and Becca's my sister by blood. I didn't have any friends until you came along. I didn't want to tell you, because I thought you wouldn't want to be around me. It's fine to go to Delah if you're injured, because she's Gifted with healing. But a girl with the killing Gift? Everyone's scared of me. They won't look me in the eyes."

"It's okay. I don't care, not one bit. In fact, I'm amazed no one's wanted to train with you," Peter said.

"Why?" I looked up through my tears, surprised.

"Because you could teach them so much. I want you to train me. It would help be able to protect my family, and we might just win this war."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Now are you done crying, or do you need a few more minutes?"

"I think I need a few more minutes, Peter. It was really hard telling you that."

"I'll bet it was, my Lioness. My brave, brave Lioness." He pulled me closer, and I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, wishing that it would never end, that I would never have to pull away from him and make my way back out into that world, the world of too much pain and too little hope.

We sat like that for a long while, and then went out together, holding hands.

AN: Five reviews = another chapter. Did you understnd the Gift part? If you don't, tell me. I'll try to answer any questions. Thanks!