When Asterix awoke the next morning, he didn't feel rested at all. In fact, if he was honest with himself, he hadn't slept a wink. Not with the weight of their situation laying so heavily on him.

When Asterix had returned the night before, the Gauls had greeted him with hope shining in their eyes. But that hope had faded and died when they saw he was empty-handed. Some had been concerned; others angry. The rest simply wanted to hear what had happened.

Finding it difficult to explain his actions, Asterix had struggled to help them understand why he had done what he had. But each word he uttered seemed weak in his own ears. What had seemed so clear before had suddenly become clouded and hopeless. He was nearly overwhelmed with the urge to just collapse and give up. That terrible feeling grew almost unbearable when Soporifix pushed his way through the crowd. Their eyes had met, and for a moment everything else had faded. There was only them. Asterix saw the fear and anxiety in the fatherly Gaul's face turn to deep sadness; disappointment. Disappointment in him. For some reason, that hurt far more then anything Asterix had ever felt. Those eyes had burned into him, leaving him speechless and empty. Like a part of him was writhing in agony on the inside. Asterix's worst fear had always been letting the other Gauls down. And he had let Soporifix down badly.

The world had felt as though it were crashing down around him, and there was nothing to keep him from being crushed...

A sudden touch on his shoulder had caused the small Gaul to look up into the kind and worried face of Obelix. The large Gaul had muscled his way in to stand beside his friend; to support him. As small a gesture as that had been, it had meant the world to Asterix. It had given him the strength he needed to wrestle past his conflicting emotions, answer the remaining, plying questions of the villagers, and head wearily off to bed.

He had still gotten very little sleep. Anxiety kept his mind going in loops, flashing from one fear to the next; going in obsessive circles as he tried to find a solution. He had lain in the dark, staring up at the thatched roof of his cottage far into the early hours of the morning. If he slept at all, it was too small an amount to have done any good, or for him to remember.

As the morning rays of the sun trickled through the window, a very tired Asterix stumbled down the stairs of his home, blinking against the rather unwelcome brightness. The beautiful, summer morning blossoming outdoors almost seemed to mock his dark mood; laughing at the fogging seriousness that had settled in his mind. He sighed, but managed to smile when Obelix came in without so much as a knock. Dogmatix yipped as he followed at his master's heels.

"Morning, Asterix," his large friend greeted as cheerfully as he could manage. It was a brave attempt at their usual carefree atmosphere, but it still fell miserably short.

"Hello, Obelix. Did you have breakfast?"

The big Gaul's stomach answered with a tremendous rumble. Obelix patted it soothingly, as though he were quieting some monstrous beast. "No. I'm all out."

That wasn't a big surprise, since Obelix ate so much. Of course he'd run out of food before everyone else.

"I'll take a look and see if I've got anything you'd like," Asterix called as he headed into his store room. "Sit down and make yourself comfortable."

Obelix gingerly sat at his friend's table, trying as hard as he could not to upset anything. It wasn't easy, moving around in Asterix's home. Everything in it was set at the blond Gaul's height, which just so happened to be the perfect "knock over" height for Obelix. Then there was his weight to consider. The benches at Asterix's table were made for a much lighter person. Much lighter. And even though Obelix had never believed or considered himself to be "fat", he was well aware of the fact that he might weigh a few pounds more than Asterix. And so it was with great care that Obelix lowered himself until he was sitting on the little wooden seat. It didn't break, but it did let out a long, protesting creak.

After a moment or so Asterix returned with an assortment of fruit and bread, with a small canteen of water. It was a very small amount, and the disappointment must have shown in Obelix's face.

"I'm sorry, Obelix," Asterix said as he deposited the meager breakfast onto the table in front of his guest. "I guess there's not as much in my storage as I thought." He gave his friend a half smile-half grimace. It was then that Obelix noticed for the first time just how exhausted Asterix looked.

"You didn't sleep very well last night, did you?"

"You can tell?"

Obelix ignored the sarcasm that had crept into the blond Gaul's voice. "Maybe Getafix has something that can help you rest and..." His voice faded as Asterix shook his head sadly.

"I don't need rest, Obelix. I just need for this whole mess to be over. I've got to come up with a way to fix this. There are others who are in far worse shape then I am. Let them rest; I can't." He paused, not making eye contact. "Besides, I'm fine."

Obelix nodded, knowing arguing would be useless. He knew Asterix was tired. He could see it in the way his friend moved and spoke; stumbling and uncoordinated. Dark shadows lingered beneath his usually bright eyes, and he was a good deal paler than usual. He looked awful. But Asterix was a stubborn man. He wouldn't rest until he had found a way to save them all. That was just who he was; his job as village warrior. Nothing short of being punched out would be able to get him to rest, and that, of course, was out of the question.

Obelix looked down at the pitiful pile of food on the table in front of him, just as his stomach gave another insistent growl. Asterix gave a laugh; a weak, tired kind of sound, but a laugh nonetheless.

"You'd better eat that before the others hear and think that we've got a bear loose in the village."

Obelix chuckled before becoming serious. "Aren't you having any?"

"Oh, I'm not very hungry right now, Obelix. You go ahead. I'll have something later." He sat down across the table from his friend, giving another forced smile.

He's lying. Asterix had never been a good lier. It hurt the larger Gaul slightly that Asterix felt the need to tell him such an obvious untruth, but he wisely decided to let it go. If Asterix wasn't hungry now, he would be later. He had to eat eventually. And so, as slowly as he could to make it last longer, Obelix began to munch his way through the small meal. It would be little more than a snack to him, but he appreciated it. When you had an appetite as large as his, every bite counted for something.

As they talked softly about things, such as the weather and what different people were up to, Dogmatix leaned soothingly against Asterix's side. He was feeling increasingly uneasy. The pup had been relieved to sense that this morning his master had seemed a little less upset. Oh, the anxiety and tenseness still lingered, as it did with every other Gaul in the village, but that intense anger had faded, at least somewhat. That had been a great relief to Dogmatix, who had found it very unnerving to see Obelix in such a state. He was glad to see that the condition had not been permanent.

Asterix, however, was far worse. His nervous, self conflicted state had become nearly overwhelming, even to Dogmatix, who was only vaguely sensing the strong emotions. It had quickly become apparent to the small canine that, of the two, Asterix was more in need of his reassurance. And so, as the two Gauls conversed, Dogmatix had made his way up and over to the smaller man and given a small whine to let him know he was there. Asterix tensed at the pup's touch, but quickly relaxed, running his hand over the soft black and white fur, all without really seeming to realize he was doing it. It had the desired effect, as Dogmatix sensed his anxiety lessening to a more bearable level.

Obelix noticed that the subjects of their small-talk stayed well away from any mention of their troubles outside the cottage. But he didn't object. He could understand Asterix's need to shut everything out, even if it was just for a short time. He needed a moment to pull back and catch his footing, so to speak.

"We should go see Getafix," Asterix said at last, almost reluctantly. That sentence marked the re-entrance into that troubled world outside. "See how Cacofonix is fairing."

Obelix nodded, gingerly getting up from the bench. He had eaten a good portion of the food, but had been careful to leave enough for Asterix, for later when he got hungry. He vaguely wondered how the other Gauls were doing with their breakfasts. He was almost certain that they were all having as meager a meal as Asterix had managed to scrounge up.

Asterix had brought some food back the night before, when he had returned from his mission. It hadn't been much; a few fish and a rather scrawny boar. Those had been given to the children for their supper. Filling the young ones bellies was a priority at the moment. Food was beginning to run low, and everyone knew it.

"You sure you're done?"

Obelix nodded.

"Alright." Asterix gave Dogmatix one last stroke before rising himself. "Let's go."

...

Getafix opened the door as soon as he heard the knock. He appeared to be abnormally pleased with himself, and they blinked in confusion as the druid ushered them indoors with an excited, "Come in, come in!"

Obelix and Asterix were at a loss at his seemingly inappropriate behavior for their situation. They were trapped within the walls of their own home, slowly being starved, and here the bearded old man was, prancing about as if the world were all sunshine and daisies.

But the reason for Getafix's state became clear as they stepped inside. Asterix and Obelix's faces lit up in the first real, genuine smiles they had sported in days.

Cacofonix stood in the middle of the room, smiling and unaided. He was a little unsteady, as was to be expected; swaying slightly, but he was up and standing on his own two feet. There was little to no sign of pain on his face, though he was still very pale and tired looking. The white garments he wore did little to help that, only succeeding in making him look even paler. However, his eyes had regained some of their sparkle. But the greatest improvement of all was the obvious lack of bandages on his arms and legs. Before, he had been covered in them, trying to keep his injuries clean and safe from infection. Now, all that remained was a few scars and several purple bruises.

"It's amazing," Getafix breathed. "Simply amazing. I've never seen anything like it, at least, not without the aid of a potion. He's nearly completely recovered from the burns and cuts. The bruising is still there, as is that large, nasty burn on his side, but even those are fading. I just can't explain it."

Asterix moved closer, reaching out a hand to steady the bard as he pitched to the right. Cacofonix gave him a thankful smile.

"A good deal of the exhaustion remains," Getafix continued, "But rest should take care of that. As for the trouble with his voice..."

The room seemed to darken at those two words. His Voice. Not that the lighting actually decreased, you understand; just the mood. As though the world lost its shine to them. They stood in silence, the grins of triumph from before suddenly replaced with sorrowful, downcast eyes.

"Well," the druid sighed, "With his voice we'll just have to wait and see."

Asterix found himself blaming himself yet again. It was his job to take care of the others. His job to keep everyone safe and sound. He had failed to do so. Failed. He needed to make sure he didn't again. No matter what. The small man sighed, giving the bard's arm a gentle pat. He hoped it was encouraging to Cacofonix, because it did little to ease his guilt.

Getafix laid a hand on the bard's other shoulder. "I haven't given up on the hope that your voice will return, Cacofonix," he said sincerely. "It might just take some time."Cacofonix nodded slowly. His smile was genuine, even though it was still laced with worry.

"Asterix!" The shout pierced the room from outside Getafix's cottage, shattering the silence.

Asterix felt his mind snap back to full attention as Unhygenix ran through the door, waving his arms frantically. He was out of breath, but seemed far to upset to take a moment to calm down. "Asterix! It's the Romans! They're at the gate again!"

Getafix and Asterix exchanged uneasy glances. This couldn't be good.

"Let's go," the small Gaul said, determination in his voice as he quickly headed outside, Unhygenix and Obelix close behind him.

Cacofonix made as if to follow, but he stumbled and Getafix took his arm to steady him. "You're not well enough yet, Cacofonix. They can handle this just fine. You, I believe, should get some rest."

The bard didn't look pleased. He was sick of being in bed. He wasn't even sleepy. Sure he was sore, but he was certain a little exercise would do him good. The druid, however, did not agree. Cacofonix found himself in bed once again; staring up at the thatched ceiling.

...

Asterix pushed his way through to the front of the crowd that had assembled up on the parapets once more, just as Vitalstitistix's strong voice rang out. "What do you want know, Roman?"

Below, just like on that dreaded day this mess had all started on, the Romans stood at stiff attention. Lined in perfect rows, weapons in hand, and eyes fixed upward at the Gauls, they held the villagers' gazes. In front of them, again just like before, stood Commander Spacious. His sickening smile was still pasted on his round face, making Asterix wonder how a man could hold such a look for so long. You'd think his face would start to ache...Maybe it was just stuck that way.

"Good morning, Gauls," Spacious grinned, sweeping his right hand toward the bright, clear sky and glimmering sunshine. Just him complimenting nature made it seem to lose its glow. He turned back toward the assembly. He soaked in the general feelings of anxiety and fear that emanated from the Gauls. They were shaking in their boots, he knew...except Asterix. The blond haired fellow glared down at him with anger and determination. Defying him even now. Stupid little warrior. He would be singing a different tune very shortly. "I do hope you have all been well," the Commander continued, as if he were merely stopping by for a friendly chat. But his tone held far too much menace to be friendly.

"I repeat. What do you want, Roman?"

Asterix found himself in slight awe of the strength in Vitalstitistix's voice. The past several days had hardened the chieftain a little. The worries and responsibility causing him to grow serious. Asterix hoped it wasn't a permanent change, but it was certainly what they needed right now. Vitalstitistix had changed his role from just chief, to chief and defender. He wasn't the bumbling leader he had been before. Even Asterix found himself hanging onto his every word; gaining strength from their sturdy, impenetrable force.

Commander Spacious held a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "I get the feeling you aren't happy to see us!" he cried indignantly. "I can't imagine why..." His cruel smile returned. "We, on the other hand, have been expecting you for the past two days..." He shifted his eyes from the chief, meeting Asterix's gaze with intense hatred.

Asterix felt his heart slam against his chest. His mind flashed to the night before, fervently hoping that Spacious had not been aware of his presence. He felt compelled to answer, but found his throat had suddenly gone dry. Thankfully, Vitalstitistix got the Commander's attention back on him.

"Sorry to disappoint you," the chief growled, only half civilly.

"Oh, we were disappointed," Spacious replied, looking down at the grass beneath his feet as if all his dreams in life had been crushed. But when he raised his head once more his face showed no signs of sorrow. A cruel grin spread over his fattened features. "Until last night."

Asterix felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. The other Gauls unintentionally sent him fearful looks, and Obelix, who had stayed by his friend's side since they had reached the parapet, clenched his fists at his sides.

Again Vitalstitistix's voice called out, though considerably weaker. "What...what do you mean?" It was better to act as if they didn't know what he was talking about, if their faces hadn't already given them away. Perhaps the Roman was bluffing.

"Oh, come now, surely you know of your little...rescuer." Spacious gestured behind him as the Roman soldiers parted, revealing a very frightened Picanmix in the arms of an equally frightened Panacea. The woman gripped the child with a look of pure terror pasted on her pale face. The same look was reflected in Asterix's own.

"My son!" cried a woman to Asterix's right. It was Picanmix's mother. She reached her arms out toward the boy, anguish in both her voice and features. Asterix located Panacea's father as well. He too looked terribly pale.

The Commander smirked, reveling in the obvious fear he was piercing into the hearts of the villagers. He waved a solemn hand in the direction of the two quivering prisoners. "The boy attempted to save the fair woman." His face hardened and the glint in his eyes became sharp and dangerous. "I'm sure you remember the deal we made with you. You Gauls have broken that deal...and the price must be paid."

Spacious gave a nod and a large menacing Roman stepped from the ranks, drawing his deadly sword. He advanced toward the woman and child, raising the weapon slowly.

Everyone stood in shock as the executioner neared his targets; villagers and soldiers alike. The Romans had not been informed about this part of the Commander's plan, with the exception of the one holding the blade. Horror filled all their minds, freezing them were they stood, mouths agape, unable to say a thing.

Except for one Gaul.

Asterix lurched forward, griping the wall tightly as his voice became desperate. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't fail again. "Commander! Commander, listen to me! He's just a boy!"

The sword raised above the prisoners, preparing to strike.

Asterix's voice rose in pitch. "Spacious!"

"Stop." The Roman Commander's voice was calm, almost careless. The dangerous blade was slowly lowered, and Picanmix and Panacea released shaky breaths of relief. Spacious gazed back up to the villagers. Their eyes were wide; breathing and hearts faltering as they realized just how close they had come to disaster. "I'm not a cruel man," the Commander said, almost soothingly. "The boy said he snuck out without your knowledge. Since this was not a true rescue attempt, I am willing to spare their lives." The sickening smile returned. "I'm even willing to release the child, and return him to you."

A sense of dread filled Asterix; a foreboding. Spacious was a cruel man. Every aspect of his character they had seen so for spoke that he was a heartless man, with no regard for human life whatsoever. For him to be 'gracious' and offer Picanmix back, safely, did not set well with Asterix's mind. There had to be a catch...

"All you have to do," Spacious called up to them, "Is send one of your men out here to get him." His gaze shifted to Asterix, looking the small Gaul right in the eyes. They seemed to burn into him, as though the Roman could see through him. Through his crumbling emotional wall. Through his tough little warrior act. Through everything. The Roman smirked nastily. "Perhaps Asterix, your warrior, could come and get the boy."

There was the catch.

Asterix set his jaw, determination shining clearly in his eyes. Everyone was focused on him. They all knew the Commander had been making a demand, not a suggestion. It was either Asterix came out, putting his own life in danger, or they didn't get Picanmix back. Picanmix would die.

Everyone watched him. Every Gaul. Every Roman. The prisoners. And Spacious, whose eyes gleamed with a malicious spark. Even Vitalstitistix waited on the smallest Gaul's reaction. This was a decision the chieftain couldn't make for him. They all knew it was a trap...but Picanmix's life depended on the warrior's willingness to take the chance.

Asterix had no choice.

He met his chieftain's gaze, and Vitalstitistix could see the exhaustion and worry, overlayed with a weakening shield of resolution in the blond Gaul's face. The chieftain knew Asterix would take the challenge. It was his job as village warrior. It was how it always happened. Trouble come, Asterix took the risks, and everything ended up just fine in the end. But not this time. Vitastitistix couldn't remember a time when their situation had ever been so dire. It left a heavy feeling in his chest. A sense of hopelessness that they were all fighting.

Asterix could see the conflicted look on his chieftain's face. Vitalstitistix wasn't used to such difficult decisions. Life in the village had never been that demanding. All that had been required of the chieftain had been making announcements, keeping villagers happy, and, once in a great while, leading a general pummeling of the nearby Roman outposts. And that had always been with the power of the magic potion pumping through their veins. This was unfamiliar ground for the chief, and Asterix couldn't let him make the decision.

Asterix gave the chieftain a solemn nod, which Vitalstitistix reluctantly returned. Asterix stepped forward, eyeing Spacious with a strong glare. "I'll do it."

"No! Asterix, you can't!" Obelix grabbed his friend's arm as the little Gaul turned to descend the parapet steps. "It's a trap! Can't you see that!"

Asterix paused, Obelix's hand still wrapped firmly around his upper arm. It was a little tight, though not painfully so. But Asterix could feel a slight tremor making its way down his friend's arm into his. He gave the big Gaul a gentle smile, looking up, directly into Obelix's face. "I know." He was feeling surprisingly calm. "But we don't have a choice."

They held each other's gaze for a moment, before Obelix sighed and released his grip. Asterix gave an encouraging nod and started down the stairs, feeling very much as though his fate was now sealed. Obelix and the villagers turned back to face the Romans below. They felt uneasy and sick. A dark foreboding seemed to block out their hope, like a cloud concealing the rays of a fading sun.

All they could do was watch.

Asterix pushed against the gate, grunting softly. It was heavy, but he only needed to open it wide enough for him to slip through.

Spacious called out, "Well?!" just as Asterix stepped outside the wall. The Commander seemed pleased. "Ah, there you are." He grabbed Picanmix by the arm, pulling him forward to stand beside him. "Come get the boy, hero."

Asterix took a deep, steadying breath, and started walking slowly toward the assembly. He felt the safety of the village leave him, or rather, he left it. It was like crossing an invisible line. One side, the side he had left, was a sanctuary from the dangers of the other. Now he was outside that ring of safety. There was no turning back.

Everything was perfectly quiet. No one made a sound; not the Romans, and not the Gauls. Even the birds in the forest seemed to choke on the tension in the air. They were all frozen in place; the only thing moving was their eyes as they followed Asterix's progress.

Despite the fact that the Romans stood only about twenty meters from the village gate, to Asterix it felt like miles. After what seemed like an eternity, the short Gaul stopped in front of Commander Spacious. It was the first time either of them had met face to face; at least, not at this close a range. Spacious had never considered himself a tall man, but, even so, he seemed to tower over the shorter man before him. Their eyes were locked, and Spacious found himself smirking. In his opponent's eyes he saw strength and defiance. But there was something else...fear. Desperately shielded anxiety, but Spacious saw it and grinned.

"Here is the boy, Asterix," he thrummed, pushing the child forward, though without letting go of Picanmix's arm.

Asterix kept his gaze on the Commander. "No tricks." A statement, not a question.

Spacious shook his head slowly. Asterix didn't believe him for a second. Without looking at the child, Asterix held out a hand. "Picanmix, come here."

The boy glanced nervously up at his captor, unsure if he would be permitted to move out of the Roman's grip. Picanmix shot a look toward Panacea as well. She was terribly pale. Eyes wide and unmoving, she was the very essence of fear itself.

The boy reached out with his free hand and grasped Asterix's like a lifeline. The moment they touched, Picanmix felt the Roman Commander's hold slacken and release. The child quickly moved so he was beside the blond warrior, looking nervously between the two adults. Spacious gave a nod, which Asterix returned.

Asterix tightened his grip over Picanmix's hand firmly. This was it. This was when he would be most vulnerable. But he had to do it; Picanmix was counting on him. The boy needed to get to safety, even if it meant jeopardizing his own. Finally turning his eyes to look at the child, Asterix took a deep breath...

And turned his back.

Spacious watched as the Gaul and the boy turned and started back toward the safety of their village. He noticed how Asterix placed the child in front of him, effectively blocking the Roman's view of Picanmix. The Commander smirked. Asterix was shielding the boy. Asterix knew. But that made the Commander grin all the more.

Asterix gripped the child's shoulders firmly as he steered Picanmix in the direction of the gate. His heart was pounding, and waves of panic made his legs feel weak. His back, open and unprotected, felt terribly vulnerable. He had to keep fighting the urge to whirl around, lest he be attacked from behind. But that wouldn't do. They were backed into a corner. The only way out was the way Spacious had left for them...a way that was sure to collapse on them at any moment. And so, Asterix moved as swiftly as he could, keeping his eyes fixed on the gate ahead.

Spacious stood perfectly still. Watching. Waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Every eye was on Asterix and Picanmix, just like the Commander wanted. He wanted everyone to witness what he was about to do.

As Asterix and the boy reached the halfway mark between the Romans and the wall, Spacious's smile became frighteningly demonic. He opened his mouth and spoke one word. Not shouted; not yelled. Just spoken. But that one word reached everyone's ears.

"Fire."

...

I am SO SORRY it took me so long to post this chapter! Finals are next week, and I've been insanely busy. I plan to try and finish this story during Christmas break. :)

OH! By the way Asterix fans! A new Asterix movie came out last month in France. You can check out the trailers if you want. The movie is called ASTERIX LE DOMMAINE DES DIEUX (Translated = Asterix: The Domain of the Gods). ;)