And so he prepared for battle alone as well. His sisters were still afield, a worry to gnaw at his gut. And these massed troops looked to him to find the right way to go on without their leader. He bore the burden heavily, feeling the weight of his inexperience and tender years. Edmund braced him. Ganna, whom he would have looked to for affirmation, had made her way to the main forces of the centaurs. He had not the time to seek her out and felt foolish when he considered having her sent for.

Not until later that day, when the places for attack and retreat had been marked out and filled by armies for a free Narnia, did she again come to stand beside him. Barius was on his left and they stood surveying the forces of the witch aligning opposite the field. It made his stomach sink. He looked up to Edmund and the forces high atop the rocks. He swiveled to take in those at his back, stretching on as far as the eye could see. He signaled for the griffin to fly over and gather what he could of the enemy's plan. As he turned back to the front she caught his eye. Her mount was, as his, a unicorn. Hers was a different breed, squatter and heavier and covered with the long coat of the northern watches. The dark brown utilitarian shape of the beast contrasted with the pure white sleekness of his own. Even the horn that marked it's brow seemed less magical and more pedestrian. She was in the light armor of the entaurs, her hair drawn back from her face to trail down the plate of armor at her back.

They didn't speak. She shifted to see as much as she could see and even as she did so, even as they all did so, the griffin lighted before them.

"They are numbered far greater than our own troops, and far more fierce than expected," he reported.

Peter nodded and the beast leapt back into the sky to rejoin his kind for their volley.

Peter, knighted by Aslan and bound to be crowned High King, turned to the centaur at his side.

"Will you follow me?"

"To the death," Barius told him sincerely.

"You are our king," Ganna said softly beside him. That was the only explanation necessary when it mattered. They would follow him because he was their king. Their eyes met only very briefly and he raised his sword to lead the charge.

They took advantage of a brief respite, leaning - - gasping - - against their mounts as fewer of the enemy sullied forth. As their enemy regrouped.

"Are you afraid?" She looked up at him with her clear, shining eyes. Eyes that haunted him at night when he tried to sleep. Eyes that beckoned him during the daylight hours.

He was silent - - thoughtful - - for a long span of many heartbeats.

"Yes," he admitted. "Are you?" he asked her carefully after some contemplation.

"Yes," she answered decisively and without hesitation. "But only when you're not with me."

And he laughed at her as he turned away to stare down the enemy amassing before them. It lacked humor and gusto. And made up for it in true amusement. She meant it. She hadn't teased or toyed with him. She found comfort in standing beside him-here where all things might end.

And he loved her for it.

They were swept apart in the battle. Ever she looked for him, strove to keep him in her sight. After the retreat, when his mount was shot from beneath him, she lost sight for precious minutes. Frantic, finally she spotted him. And her blood ran cold. He was being pursued by the witch. Ganna watched as Jadis turned Barius to stone, turned a cheetah and a rhinoceros. Even as she fought her way to him, even as her own mount was slashed wickedly and went down, she saw Edmund approach unseen and bring his sword down on the witch's wand. The scream torn from Ganna's heart was echoed by a sudden pain in her own side as the false queen of Narnia drove her blade into the younger son of Adam and went for his brother again.