A/N: Thank you to everyone who's still with me. I know I'm ridiculously annoying when it comes to updates but if you're still putting up with me and you're still interested in this story then I love you and I'm sorry.

Winter's Call

The enemy swarmed over the horizon like insects. They moved as one great hulking mass of fur and metal, their ranks so closely packed that it seemed the ground had come to life. The Narnians charged forward to meet the advance head on. High above on the ramparts the sounds of battle were crystal clear, as though the fighting was happening in the very air around them.

As she paced the line of archers, Susan set her mouth in a determined line, though she could feel a crease forming between her eyebrows. There was no sign of either of her brothers. Lucy was safely hidden in a room deep inside the castle, behind an inconspicuous door that none of the creatures would think to look behind if they breached the front doors. The thought of such a thing happening made Susan shiver and she pushed the idea away.

Zia felt Susan's eyes on her and turned to meet them. She took comfort in the Queen's steady expression even as her own fingers trembled. She gripped her bow tightly in one hand, remembering how lost she'd felt without it. It was a great reassurance to have it with her now, although she wished more than anything that she wouldn't need to use it. Susan offered a small smile which she returned, but she didn't doubt that Susan saw the dread in her eyes. She gave a nod and proceeded to lead by example, reaching behind her to pull an arrow from the quiver on her back. The familiar routine filled Zia's arms with renewed energy and lent confidence to her movements. Her mind seemed to shed itself of all doubt and negativity. She watched her arrow fly beside those of her comrades, and only remembered Tigran when she caught sight of his Snow Leopard – a conspicuous splash of white amidst a sea of black and grey.

A bubble of hysterical laughter burst in her chest – at least he hadn't lost his flair for the dramatic.

Susan barked another order and the archers reloaded as a unit, moving like puppets whose arms were all attached to the same strings. Zia remained motionless, her eyes fixed on the Snow Leopard and its rider. The point of Tigran's sword was aimed at the Narnians, stabbing and slashing at them without a second's hesitation. She could almost imagine his gleeful expression. If there was any hope that he had been faking his change of allegiance, it was now gone.

The Snow Leopard swatted away charging Fauns as though they were flies, and as a result Tigran reached the front gate in almost no time at all. The urge to run to him was so strong that her feet were moving before her brain had caught up. Susan's incredulous shout barely reached her ears.

The courtyard was filled with soldiers preparing to meet the onslaught when it broke through the gate. She caught sight of Brook and Lydian standing with half a dozen other Centaurs towards the front of the crowd. She made her way over to them and a cold knot formed in her abdomen when she caught sight of Brook's expression. He was staring blankly through the iron bars at his former best friend. Tigran was barely ten feet away, his army of outcasts close behind. They moved more slowly as the Narnians redoubled their efforts, but still continued to advance at an alarming rate.

Zia touched Brook's hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should have done something back at the fortress. I should have talked to him…"

"No." Brook turned to her. His eyes were hard and seemingly dead, but Zia had seen that expression enough times on Edmund's face to know that Brook was fighting to stop his emotions from erupting. "I'm the one who should have done something. It's always been my job to look after him." His shoulders dropped just a fraction and Zia knew his control was cracking. "This is my fault. I've failed."

Her reply was cut off by an almighty screech as the gate was bent back on its hinges. Immediately the soldiers in the courtyard leapt forward, descending upon the invaders like a river breaking through a dam. Zia lost sight of Brook in an instant. The consoling words she'd been about to say died on her lips. They had sounded feeble anyway – what comfort could possibly be offered to someone who had just lost their best friend?

A sound rose above the commotion, momentarily stopping the soldiers in their tracks. It was a ferocious, undulating roar, a sound that denoted savagery and sheer power. The front lines scattered as the Leopard bounded into the courtyard, snapping and snarling. A shout came from behind Zia and she turned to see the Centaurs raising their bows. She wanted to tell them to stop, there was too high a risk of an arrow finding its way to Tigran, but they were too fast. An agonised yowl cut through the air, echoing deafeningly off the high walls. Six arrows protruded from the Leopard's left flank, rendering its hind leg almost useless. Tigran was completely unharmed.

With a cry of triumph the Fauns charged. They threw themselves at the Leopard, bringing it down just by the force of their numbers. Tigran was lost from view, but there was no time to look for him. The courtyard was soon overrun with bellowing Minotaurs, shrieking Harpies and grunting Boggles – there seemed to be no end to the stream of creatures flooding through the gates.

During the confusion that followed, Zia seized her chance. The great Leopard lay on its side a few paces from the gate, unable to fight as its limbs and muzzle were bound with ropes. Such a noble creature should not be killed, but nevertheless the beast would be punished. Tigran was caught in the middle of a group of Narnians, outnumbered six to one and still completely unfazed. Two of the soldiers staggered back away from his blade and he made a break for it, heading straight for the front steps. There was no one left to challenge him but Zia. She started after him, narrowly avoiding a Boggle's axe that almost took her head clean off.

She caught up to him just as he was about to slip through the front doors. He whirled around as she caught his sleeve, bringing his sword up and pressing the cold metal into her throat. His eyes were half wild and too bright - he looked completely insane. He lowered his blade when she choked out his name and she stumbled back, eyes wide with horror. When she touched her neck her fingers came away covered in a syrupy liquid.

Tigran looked as startled by the blood as she was. He stared at her hand for a moment, then raised his head and seemed to look at her properly for the first time. "Zia, what are you -"

"Doing? What am I doing?" Her voice was raspy and it hurt to talk. The sword had cut deeper than either of them realised. "I'm trying to stop you from making a huge mistake! Look around you! Is this what you want?"

He blinked slowly as though coming out of a trance. "It was the only way," he said quietly.

"The only way to do what? Tear Narnia in half? What were you even thinking? I ought to strangle you! I ought to -"

His fingers closed around her wrist, effectively cutting off her words. He pressed his thumb to the vein and she felt her own heartbeat pounding against his skin. "If you just hold off the rant for a little bit longer, I can explain."

Outside in the courtyard, the battle raged on. Zia couldn't tell which side was winning, but the screams of the wounded and the dying echoed in her ears until she wanted to curl her body into a ball and hide away in a dark corner. They were safely hidden from view, standing just behind the left-hand door, which was still firmly closed. The entrance hall was oddly chilly and dark, and Zia realised it was because the candles weren't lit. The light from outside lit up only half of Tigran's face, throwing his sharp features into eerie contrast. His grip was too tight, almost as though he was clinging to her - as though she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

When he began to speak, his voice was a hushed whisper drowned out by the noise in the courtyard. She leaned closer, feeling the cold slickness of blood congealing on her skin, and listened as he told her the whole story of everything that had happened from the moment he first set foot in the General's office. She couldn't help but gasp a little when he explained his betrayal of Edmund and Peter - how he had helped lead them on a wild goose chase so that the Cair's defences would be weakened. He finished by recounting the details of what had happened in the underground chamber, and fell silent, watching her face intently for a reaction.

Zia's chest began to hurt and she realised she was holding her breath. She watched the emotion in Tigran's eyes change from hope to confusion to grief as he released her wrist and hung his head.

"Well, that's the story. It's all completely true, in case you were wondering. Now at least you know I'm not a traitor. Regardless of whether you choose to forgive me, just know that I never had anything other than the freedom of Narnia in mind."

He turned to leave, and a sudden overpowering urge took hold of Zia's body. The next thing she knew Tigran's back was against the wall and her fingers were around his throat, crushing, choking, squeezing the life out of him. His nails clawed at the skin of her hands but she felt no pain, only a dull burning in her throat. In the distance someone was shrieking. With a jolt she realised it was her own voice, but she couldn't make out her own words through the roaring in her ears. Her fingers closed tighter around Tigran's windpipe until his attempts to fight grew weak and his eyes began to close.

Zia, stop!

She wasn't sure if the shout came from behind her or inside her mind, but moments later someone was dragging her off Tigran, holding her waist and lifting her feet off the floor as she struggled to free herself. There was a voice in her ear, whispering soothing words, and a pair of cool hands held hers until the fog began to clear and her vision swam back into focus. The first thing she saw was Tigran crumpled on the floor, coughing and struggling to force air back into his lungs. Her stomach gave a sickening lurch: Did I do that?

The person who'd pulled her away from him released their hold on her waist and she swayed dangerously, barely managing to stay on her feet. Her whole body was shaking, her hands especially. She looked down at them, expecting to see a mark, something that branded her as a killer for what she had just tried to do. But they looked exactly as they always did, if a little paler.

A figure was bent over Tigran, rubbing his back and holding him upright as he fought for breath. Ivy glanced up at her and Zia expected to see accusation in her eyes, but there was only the familiar kindness and something else even softer: pity.

"What - what did I do?" Zia suddenly felt very, very tired.

"You've been away from your tree for a long time," said Ivy. "It takes its toll."

"But I just tried -" She closed her eyes. You just tried to kill him.

Ivy nodded. "That's what happens. The longer you're away from your tree, the more unstable you get. I would say you're lucky not to have felt the effects until now, but perhaps it would have been better if you'd shown symptoms sooner." She smiled gently, but the warmth of it was lost in the numbness spreading through Zia's chest.

Ivy searched through her medical supplies and handed over a bottle. In it was a clear liquid that Zia recognised from the very first time she'd come to the Cair. Alex and Ivy had made her take it to prevent her from going crazy from the time spent away from the grove. She uncapped the bottle and drained the potion in three gulps. She didn't feel any better for taking it, but Ivy's reassuring smile told her she no longer needed to worry about attacking anyone else.

Ivy's eyes travelled from Zia's face down to the pouch around her waist. "May I ask what's in there?"

"What?" Zia had completely forgotten about Alexandra's parting gift. She was surprised it hadn't fallen off after everything she'd been through since the former Physician had left. She tugged open the drawstring and carefully reached inside the bag. Her fingers closed around something smooth and cylindrical. She pulled it out and discovered it was a vial not unlike the one she'd just taken from Ivy, but the liquid inside this one was deep purple instead of clear. The bottle was about as long as her palm and as wide as two of her fingers, and there was a piece of parchment marked with instructions tied around the neck. There was something else at the bottom of the pouch. It was a note, written in the same hand as the one on the bottle. Zia handed the note to Ivy, who took it with a look of curiosity on her face. Tigran shuffled closer to look over Ivy's shoulder, wincing a little.

"Dear Zia," Ivy read aloud, "By the time you read this I'll be long gone. I hope I got the chance to say goodbye in person, but if not then I apologise. Anyway, I stumbled across the recipe for this potion when I was reading up on Dryads - your people really are fascinating - and I realised that there was a way for you to not have to hibernate in winter. With this potion, Edmund won't have to miss you, and I won't have to worry about him because I know he'll be happy. You can tell the others about the potion, but please don't mention this note. I think it's for the best if I make this as painless as possible for everyone. I wish you and Ed the very best for the future. Farewell."

When Ivy looked up, her eyes were full of tears. She handed the bottle back without a word, wiping at her eyes with her other hand. Zia stepped forward with the intention of hugging her, but the sudden blast of a horn made them all jump.

"What was that?" Tigran rasped. He tried to get up but wobbled, and Ivy caught his forearm before he could fall. Zia felt a sharp stab of guilt; Tigran was probably the Narnians' second best swordsman and she had rendered him almost useless.

"It sounded like -" Ivy started, but her sentence was cut short by an raucous cheer from outside.

The three of them rushed out onto the steps just in time to see Oreius leap over the fallen body of a Minotaur and canter into the courtyard. He was closely followed by a white unicorn and a chestnut Horse. The two riders each dismounted from their steeds and joined the Narnian front lines without a second's pause, and for a few precious moments it seemed everything would be all right.

"Watch out!"

Tigran's shout made Zia remember they were on a battlefield. She ducked just in time to avoid being hit by a Boggle wielding an enormous spiked club. The Boggle grunted in frustration and prepared to swing again, but it was prevented from doing so by an arrow embedding itself in the back of its head. The creature let out an enraged squeal and pitched forward, forcing Zia to jump back to avoid her legs being crushed. She looked up just in time to see Davlon reload his bow and send another arrow flying towards a second Boggle, but this time he wasn't so lucky. The arrow missed its target and stuck harmlessly in the thick skin on the Boggle's shoulder, only serving to annoy it as it advanced on the Centaur with its club raised high above its head.

"Your bow, idiot!" Tigran was still yelling despite the abuse his throat had already endured. He would have already thrown himself back into the fight if Ivy wasn't physically restraining him. "Use your bow!"

It was too late. The Boggle raised its club and brought it straight down towards Davlon's head. Just before the blow connected, he reared up onto his hind legs. Even from a distance, the sickening crunch of breaking bone was perfectly audible. Zia almost tumbled head first down the steps in her haste to reach him. She threw herself between the Boggle and Davlon, preparing herself for the second strike. But the blow never came. When she opened her eyes it was to see the Boggle staring at her in astonishment with the tip of a sword protruding from its flabby abdomen. The weapon was pulled free and the Boggle collapsed, spilling dark red blood onto the cobblestones.

Calling for Ivy, Zia knelt beside the body of her fallen friend. Davlon's legs were sprawled awkwardly beneath him. His left foreleg was bent at an unnatural angle. His face was pale and shiny but he managed to smile almost cheerfully as Zia pushed damp curls back from his forehead.

"You didn't have to do that," he said through gritted teeth.

"I didn't think," she replied. "Now don't talk, Ivy's on her way."

Davlon nodded. He looked on the verge of passing out. "Did you find that Dryad boy?"

Zia swallowed. "Yes. Everything's fine. He's still on our side."

"That's good."

"You mean he caused us all that worry for nothing?" said a voice. Edmund stood over them, dirty and sweaty but otherwise unharmed. His sword was dark with blood right up to the hilt. "Typical Dryad." He winked at Zia and placed a hand on Davlon's shoulder. "Sorry I didn't get here sooner." His words were directed at Davlon, but his eyes held Zia's with such intensity that she couldn't look away even if she'd wanted to. The realisation of how much she'd missed him was crippling. Part of her knew she should get up and throw her arms around him, but she found herself unable to move.

At that moment Ivy appeared at Edmund's shoulder, already holding a wad of bandages. The Narnian army had managed to drive the enemy back towards the gates so it was safe for her to tend to the wounded Centaur where he lay. The bodies littering the ground made Zia feel sick. She took a damp cloth from Ivy and focused on sponging Davlon's clammy forehead to take her mind off the carnage. Edmund lay his hand briefly on her head before turning and hurrying back to where he was needed. Davlon's eyes were closed now - the only sign he was still alive was the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"Where's Tigran?" Zia asked Ivy.

"He went to find Queen Lucy," Ivy replied. She carefully ran her hands over Davlon's injured leg, using his quiet groans to locate the site of the break. "Without Alexandra I am the only healer skilled enough to deal with things like this. Lucy's fire-flower cordial would help me to no end."

Zia nodded just as Davlon's eyes cracked open. They were half-lidded and hazy, but the question coming from his mouth was perfectly clear.

"She'll come," Zia assured him soothingly. "Don't worry, she'll come." She didn't know if she believed her own words, but Davlon seemed content as she tenderly manoeuvred his head into her lap. She stroked his hair and silently prayed that Lydian could somehow sense her mate was injured, and that she would come quickly to be with him when he needed her.

The sounds of battle seemed far away now. The enemy was being forced to retreat further and further back into the forest, but still they wouldn't give up. Perhaps they still believed the White Witch would come. At least they couldn't do anything to Tigran once they found out he'd tricked them.

When Tigran finally returned with Lucy and her cordial, he was wheezing again. Zia began to worry she'd done permanent damage to his throat, but nevertheless he flashed a grin at her and announced he was going to help Lucy. The Valiant Queen looked positively delighted at this, and as they set off she began to chatter excitedly, bombarding Tigran with questions. Ivy finished wrapping up Davlon's leg and glanced towards the entrance, at the gate lying twisted and broken where it had been ripped off its hinges, and the corner of her mouth lifted in a smile.

"I think we'll be alright now."

As the last word left her mouth there was a horrendous crash, like the sound of half a dozen trees being felled at once. Zia leapt to her feet and ran to the gate, where Tigran and Lucy stood with their mouths agape.

"The mountains are moving!" Lucy cried, clutching at Tigran's arm.

Zia squinted into the distance as another crash shook the ground. The mountains did appear to be moving, but that was impossible. Then what in Aslan's name was going on?

"Giants," Tigran said grimly. "The Giants are coming."