Hello! All reviews and story alerts/ adding this to favourites were appreciated. Now I feel kinda bad as this chapter isn't as long as my others. I just couldn't think of anymore to put in this chapter. Anyways, read on and *hopefully* enjoy.

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own The Chronicles of Narnia or Doctor Who or I wouldn't be writing this.

Chapter 6

The celebration had finished. No more festivities for the anniversary of the White Witch's defeat. Peter, Susan and Lucy found they no longer had a reason to plaster a fake smile on their faces for the sake of their subjects. They had asked to be left alone for a while, with no servants to bother them, as they sat in one of their parlours. Peter was pretending to look through the treaty with whatever country it was, he didn't really care, and Susan was pretending to read a book. After twenty full minutes of staring at the fire Lucy stood up and threw two cushions, one at each of her remaining siblings.

"Can't we just talk about him for once instead of sulking about trying to not notice that he's not here!"

Her face felt very hot and red and her breaths were coming quick, but Lucy found she felt so much better for doing that.

Peter opened his mouth to reply to her. What should we talk about? How I couldn't look after him properly? About how I drove him away? Mum told me to look after all of you, but I couldn't! I didn't notice how much he was suffering until it was too late. But the words died on his lips as a whirring noise suddenly erupted from the thin air in the centre of the room, soon followed by the sight of a blue police box materializing there. The three siblings stared in amazement as the door opened and Tumnus came running out.

"Lucy!" he cried. "We need your cordial!" Before she could ask why (and how had he got here when he was supposed to be home, and what was that thing he'd just walked out of?), two men came out of the police box as well, carrying a young woman with blood covering her abdomen. Even beneath all that, Lucy could see the severe wound in the woman's stomach. She gasped and quickly pulled the cordial from her belt and pulled out the stopper.

"Lay her on the couch," she instructed. As soon as they had she held the small bottle over the woman's pale face and let a small drop fall into her mouth.

The effect was immediate. Her breathing eased and colour returned to her cheeks.

"Amy!" the young men cried as her eyes opened. One quickly knelt down, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I thought I'd lost you," he wept into her shoulder. Amy, for her part, burst into tears, and clung to him as tightly as she could, wailing miserably.

"Could someone please explain what is going on here?" demanded Peter, looking from Tumnus to the second man, the one wearing a bow tie, who had come out of the blue police box. Quite rightfully, he was wary of these people. Whilst he had allowed Lucy to heal the young woman (she had needed help and he wasn't heartless) he did not want to take any further action besides shoving them back into the police box without knowing who they were and how they had come to be at Cair Paravel in their conditions.

The young man with the bow tie stepped forward. He looked straight to Peter without even giving a cursory glance to the guards who had rushed into the room at the sound of strange noises.

"I'm the Doctor, that's Amy and that's Rory. I need to see your library," he said. "More specifically, I need to see any and all documents relating to the Deep Magic."

Peter's eyes narrowed.

"Why do you need to see those?"

The Doctor's next words stopped all activity in the room.

"Because Edmund will definitely die if I don't. There's a chance I might be able to save him if I do."

The Doctor hurriedly scanned through the old scrolls and books, Peter stood off to one side with his guards behind him, waiting. Peter wanted to know more, to demand that the man tell him more than the bare facts he had already given. Why is Edmund's life in danger? Why was he with you and not with us? What kind of doctor are you?

The Doctor hadn't given any more information, even with Peter repeatedly asking him. Peter had only stopped questioning when the strange man turned to him and yelled,

"I can't work with you interrogating me like that! You're brother's life now rests on your ability to shut the hell up!"

Suffice to say, Peter was highly offended by that, but he did as the Doctor said. He wouldn't risk his siblings lives for anything, not again.

Finally after what seemed like hours to Peter, The Doctor looked up.

"Ok, there's a good chance my plan will work," he announced.

"And the plan is?"

"You'll find out later." The Doctor sped out the library, Peter and his guards hurried after him.

"My brother's life is in danger! I need to know what's going on!" he yelled after the man.

"Fell creatures," replied the Doctor, without looking back. "And something about traitors having to die on the Stone Table, except that's not exactly what it says in Deep Magics."

"What!"

They raced back into the parlour, Peter hot on the Doctor's heels. Lucy was still there, comforting a very distressed Rory.

"Where's Amy?" asked the Doctor, worried.

"Susan took her to see Nayla, our healer," explained Lucy. "She was in such a state, I'm not sure what she was worried about but she said something to Susan, and Susan thought it was best to see Nayla. Where are you going?" she asked as he walked past her.

"To get Edmund," The Doctor said as he stepped into his blue police box.

Peter moved to go after him, but the door to the TARDIS slammed in his face as he got there.

"Hey!" he yelled, pounding on the door. "Let me in!"

The door reopened.

"I'm coming with you," Peter told the Doctor.

"No you're not."

Peter was stunned. This man could not order him about, he was High King of Narnia.

"Yes I am," he argued, inwardly cringing after the words left his mouth. He sounded childish, that wasn't good.

"I can't let you come," replied the Doctor. "Those Fell creatures would love to get their hands on you as well, I bet. I have to focus on Edmund, not worry about you."

"I can look after myself."

"I'm still not letting you come with me." The Doctor was adamant. Peter was about to argue again, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He wasn't sure why, but Lucy was always able to calm him just by touching his arm, or slipping her small hand into his.

Lucy turned her attention to the Doctor.

"Here, take this," she said, holding out her bottle of cordial. "You might need it."

The Doctor nodded, taking the small bottle, hoping he didn't have to use it.

"I'll bring him back, I promise," he choked out, before shutting the doors to the TARDIS again.

The odd whirring noise rang out again. Instinctively, Peter and Lucy stepped back.

"You can always take your army out to meet him," suggested Lucy, when the TARDIS had fully disappeared. Peter was already out the door.

Edmund tried to look impassive as the Hag leant over him with a very large, very sharp, and to Edmund's mind, very scary knife. After being dragged away from Amy's bleeding body, he had been cruelly tied up, hefted over the shoulder of a huge Minotaur, and carried all the way to the Stone Table. Now his wrists and ankles were tied to its four corners, leaving him in a very uncomfortable spread-eagled position.

"Does the little Prince want his pillow fluffed?" mocked the Hag. Edmund glared at her and wished he hadn't been gagged so he could spit in her face. The Hag laughed some more.

"Did you really think your siblings would want you, that anyone would want you, after what you've done?" she sneered. "They hate you. They will be glad you're dead."

That's not true, I know that's not's true. Lucy could never hate anyone…I think I'm starting to remember them.

"It doesn't matter now, little prince. You are a traitor, and all the traitors must die on the stone table!"

"Actually, that's not what the Deep Magics say."

Everyone whirled round (except Edmund, who could only turn his head). The Doctor stood there, looking rather nonchalant. Edmund smiled as much as he could behind the gag. Yes, he had known the Doctor would come, he had only doubted whether he would be alive at that time. (What he didn't know was the Doctor had arrived an hour previously and had taken time to find a hiding spot, so he could reveal himself at the right moment.)

"Before you kill me, or him, here me out," he said. "You may have wasted two years of your lives and not realized it."

"What do you mean!" snarled the Hag.

"The Deep Magics only say a traitor's blood must be spilt on the stone table, not that the person has to die," explained the Doctor. "And Edmund's blood was already spilt earlier, when he cut his knee open."

The Doctor pointed to the rip in the left knee of Edmund's jeans. Everyone could see the recently formed scab. And the few drops of blood were clearly visible at the edge of the table. Some of the Fell creatures began muttering to themselves. The Doctor smiled, his seeds of doubt were taking root.

"It doesn't matter!" screeched the Hag. "The traitor will die!" The knife plunged down.

Another cliffhanger. Please don't kill me *hides from objects thrown in my direction*

So, tell me what you think.