Quiet had been restored to the valley where the battle had been fought. Peter, well and whole, led the others to Edmund's side and watched as Lucy's cordial restored him to health. Before he could fully be brought around Aslan had the young girl move on, had her seek out the others who had been maimed or injured as he breathed new life on those who had been transformed by the evil cunning of the witch's wand. For hours they worked until he at last was brought to a hastily erected pavilion. Here he lay down beside one he loved.

"Have the golden Daughter of Eve brought here to me," he ordered. Barius, again in breathing form, stood guard and watched impatiently as the girl was sought and then as she hurried across the plain.

Lucy was accompanied by Peter, who reached out to shake Barius's hand as he approached. "Has Aslan taken hurt?" he asked the centaur.

Barius shook his head, his face obviously set against any show of emotion that might be considered weakness. Instead of speaking he drew aside the flap and motioned them in.

It was dim inside, and quiet. Only Aslan seemed to move, lifting his head as they approached.

"Have you done what you could for your subjects, Queen Lucy?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, Aslan. I think that there are not any left to heal. I have walked and climbed and some were brought to me. And the winged creatures were great help in seeking out those who needed the serum."

He nodded his great head. "Have you any more of the nectar left?" he asked. His voice seemed hopeful and yet doubtful.

"There cannot be much-it feels as though it is almost empty."

"I ask you to share what you can," he said. He pushed himself up so that he was sitting on his haunches. In doing so he revealed the form of the one he'd been keeping warm. Peter swallowed hard and sank to his knees. Tears were in his eyes as he lifted Ganna's head to his lap, much like he had his own brother's only hours before.

"Lucy-" he whispered, pain in his voice. He was begging for more than that his sister to move quickly. His hands brushed the matted hair from the still face as the little girl crouched beside the pale form. Aslan laid his velveted paw on the wound at her hip as Lucy tilted the bottle to her lips. There she held it, willing any residue left to be enough. When she deemed the flask empty she sat back on her heels, her small hands reaching out to bury in Aslan's fur.

Peter cried then, unable to hold back the tears any longer. They burst out as he lowered his brow to hers and prayed for her to open her eyes. It seemed unfair to him that he should have come through this only to lose her. For he knew in his heart that he'd never be the same if she weren't for him.

Suddenly her chest heaved. Her hand flailed and he caught it, bringing it to his lips even as she opened her eyes.

"Edmund!" she gasped, making to sit up before Aslan's heavy paw prevented her from moving. She reached up to cup Peter's cheek. "He-"

Peter could barely talk. The tears had stopped, but still his chest and throat were tight. "He is fine. Lucy's cordial was his salvation, as well as yours."

She nodded and eased up a bit; Peter lifted her so that she was reclining against his knees, her head beneath his beating heart.

"He saved you, saved us all," Ganna said. "He saw more clearly than we did."

"You screamed his name," Peter told her.

She nodded. "The witch pierced his side. I was trying to get to you. He had the same thought and it cost him."

"It cost you both."

"I wouldn't have thought to go for her wand. I wanted to strike her down," Ganna admitted, looking up at Aslan and reaching for his mane.

His voice was an affectionate growl as he again lay down beside her. "Then it is better that someone who had more wit reached her first. Although I think I would have rathered see you turned to stone than watch you bleed."

Ganna made a face and shook her head.

"I'm quite content with the way things worked out."

"I didn't think there was anything left in the bottle," Lucy confessed.

"I didn't care," Peter told her. "We'd have found a fireflower to milk if it hadn't worked."

Ganna laughed. "Hard you would have searched. Your confidence would have faded long ere you found one. For those are among the rarest of herbs in this land."

"Your faith is great, King Peter. Doubt him not, Ganna."

Now the beast rose, his expression almost light. "I must go. There are others who will need a word or some help. I'm going to send Barius in. We've been remiss in making him wait and wonder."

"I'll get up," Ganna said. Peter didn't let her tax herself. He lifted her beneath her elbows and steadied her against him-whether in truth she needed it or not. He snugged her beside him as they walked to the entrance of the tent.

There Barius took her face in his great, rough hands and bent to kiss her full on the mouth. "I feared for you," he told her when he lifted his face from hers. "The great Aslan wouldn't let me seek out the healer for you until he deemed all others had been cared for."

"It would have been selfish, Barius," Aslan objected. "What right had we to beg ours be healed first?"

Barius only made a disbelieving face and continued to rub his thumbs along Ganna's cheek bones.

"I have to agree with Barius this time, Aslan," Peter said. The centaur dropped one hand to reach out for the human's, locking his hand around Peter's elbow in the custom of his race. It was a gesture with many meanings, especially used when words won't convey enough of what one is feeling. Peter squeezed back, even as he kept one arm at Ganna's waist.

"Well, we're wasting daylight," Aslan said. His voice was happy and his roar a resounding shout of joy.