Okay...Here goes. Do you ever have those terribly powerful ideas, that once you think of them, you can't do anything until you've written them down? Well, that was this chapter. This is the result of about two hour's work at one-thirty or two A.M. and another forty minute's revision in my English class while my professor was going on a punctuation tangent and I was terribly bored. Anyway, I feel I owe everyone an apology; I really tried to write a different plot for this chapter, something less dark, but I couldn't; this is what I had to keep coming back to.

The giants' Queen lay on the floor of her bed chamber; her eyes were closed, her face bloodless, and buried to the hilt in her throat was Lucy's dagger. Lucy's hands flew to her mouth and all colour drained from her face when she saw the dead queen and her own weapon, which had clearly been used to kill her. Until that very moment no one had realised Lucy's dagger was not still hanging from her belt, and Peter could not remember when he last seen her with it.

The King towered over the body of his Queen, his eyes harsh and cold. It had been his shout Edmund had heard in the stables, and upon returning to the dining room all three of the monarchs had been hurried back into the main halls of the giants' castle by the Green Lady where they were met by three, towering guards in heavy armour, who marched them to the Queen's chambers with grim, set faces. No one had answered their questions, and even the Green Lady had been grim faced and nearly silent, though she had assured Peter in a low voice that all would be well.

The King had not yet spoken, though his fury was plain in every line of his enormous face. Peter saw that his hands were clenched into fists at his sides and shuddered involuntarily at the thought of being struck by them. He was also distantly aware of Edmund standing tensely at his side, hand dropping instinctively to his sword hilt. Peter realised then, that his own sword was back in the chamber he had slept in, leaning forgotten against his bed, and he silently cursed his own stupidity.

"Peter-Edmund, I didn't do this, please, you know I didn't do this!" Lucy's voice shook as she stared in horror at the scene.

Peter, horrified himself, and far more concerned by the fact they were trapped in the castle at the mercy of giants who believed Lucy had killed their queen, shook his head. "Hush, Lucy." He didn't mean his tone to be harsh but Lucy dissolved into tears and Edmund shot him a furious glare as he wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders.

"It's alright Lu, of course you didn't. No one in their right mind would think you had," Edmund said comfortingly, though Peter knew he was just as concerned by this sudden turn of events.

"This is your dagger, is it not, Queen Lucy? Why have you so dishonoured our hospitality and generosity in inviting you by killing our dear Queen?" The King asked finally, in a voice like thunder.

Lucy's whole body shook in terror but she faced the giant bravely, wiping the tears from her cheeks and appearing every inch a queen. "Yes, your majesty," she said in a clear voice without a hint of a tremor. "But it was not I who did this. I left my dagger next to the bed I slept in last night; anyone could have taken it between now and then."

Peter had only a moment to feel proud of her before one of the Green Lady's servants scurried into the room, curtsied, knees shaking with terror, and held up a bloodstained cloak. One of the giant guards bent to take it from the servant and Peter's heart sank to his boots. The cloak was Lucy's, one he had seen her wear a hundred times before; the same one she had been wearing at breakfast. He knew it wasn't true, could not be true, but the plot was devious enough for the giants' King to believe.

And believe it he did; he held up the cloak, looking ridiculously tiny in his hands, for all to see, and spoke thunderously. "Behold, the proof of this foul crime, found in the Narnian queen's bedchamber! Guards! Take her away!"

Peter felt his legs turn to lead; he could not move, could only stare at the king in horror before turning his eyes to Lucy. Her face turned still more ashen as she reached for his hand, frantically, pleadingly. "Peter!" But he could not go to her; he had no control over his own limbs.

It was Edmund who once more sprang to her defense, drawing his sword and stepping between Lucy and the guard as he bent to pick Lucy up in one of his enormous hands. With scarcely a glance the guard swatted Edmund away as if he were no more than a fly, and Peter could only stand there, dumbly frozen, as his brother flew fully twenty feet through the air before he struck a wall with a dull thud. EDMUND! Peter screamed his name, but no sound escaped his lips; he was frozen paralysed and helpless with horror. The guard swept Lucy up in his hand before she even had time to scream and turned to lumber away through the door.

Peter was dimly aware of the Lady at his side speaking quickly and urgently to the King, but he could not make out the words. His head spun and his mind felt stuffed with cotton as he stared blankly at Edmund's limp body lying against the wall. Ed, Lucy; oh Aslan, no! Please don't take them from me! As if in answer to his desperate prayer he saw Edmund move, it was barely perceptible, could almost have been his imagination, but he knew beyond doubt that Edmund had turned his head, as if trying to look towards him. Then he was still, and Peter could only hope desperately that he was still alive.

The Lady put a gentle hand on his arm, and guided him away; Peter stumbled like a drunkard, his legs strangely unwilling to move, but he felt compelled to follow her. Anything to get out of that chamber, away from-

"No," he mumbled, feeling rather stupid. "No, Edmund, my Lady, please, my brother," the words were jumbled; his tongue felt thick and swollen.

"Hush, dear king," and her voice was like honey, golden and soothing. "My people will see to him; you need not worry on his account. Come, you've had quite a shock and I fear you are unwell. We must away from here, lest the King in his fury do you harm." She guided him back through the halls, her hand warm and comforting on his arm, and his head seemed to clear.

"What about Lucy?" he asked, somewhat more intelligibly. "Is she alright? Surely, they must know she could not have killed the Queen! My Lady, I beg you, of your courtesy, tell the King she could not have done so!" His heart pounded in sudden panic. Lucy! Edmund! I have to go to them! For a moment he fought her, trying to pull his arm free from her gentle grasp.

"Peace! Peace, dear king!" Her voice was so very calming and his heart slowed in response, his panic abating. "I swear that I will do all I can for your sister. But please, your majesty is not well, you must rest." Almost before he realised where they were she opened the door to her wing of the palace and guided him inside and through the next doorway to one of the rooms, whose walls were lined with beds.

The Narnian guards were nowhere to be seen, but strangely their absence did not concern Peter. His head ached terribly and the room spun around him as the Lady guided him to the nearest bed. "Sleep, dear king," she soothed as he lay back against the pillows. "Sleep, and I will see that all is made right." Peter felt his eyelids growing terribly heavy, and though he wanted to fight it, wanted to spring to his feet and find Edmund and Lucy; wanted desperately to leave the city and ride as fast as he could, home to Cair Paravel, he found he could not, and sleep took him as he heard once more the sweet strains of the Green Lady's music.

Lucy fought and kicked, biting and scratching at the giant's leather gauntleted hand and forearm as he carried her away, but it was no use. "You brute!" She shouted, beating her fists against his enormous fingers, which wrapped around her body like a vice. "You're a monster! You didn't have to hurt him! You didn't have to-" Kill him? But the giant only laughed and tightened his grip until she could barely breathe. Oh Edmund, why must you always throw yourself between me and danger? But she would not weep in the presence of the giant; not again.

The guard pulled open a huge iron door, which opened upon complete darkness, and dropped Lucy, none too gently onto the floor. Before she could pick herself up the door had slammed behind her and she heard the sound of a bolt being drawn; not that it was necessary, even if she could have reached the latch it would have been far too heavy for her to lift. She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness, but it was no use, there was no light. She may as well have had her eyes closed as open, and she realised with a dreadful feeling that she was in a cell.

She walked to her left, hands out in front of her to keep from bumping her head into the wall, and when her fingertips brushed against cool stone she sank to the floor gratefully and pressed her back against the solid wall. Breathing deeply, to calm her racing heart, she began to take stock of the situation.

Her diamond bottle of cordial still hung from her belt, its familiar weight a welcome comfort, but oh! If only she could have managed to drop it back in the chamber with Peter and Edmund; they would doubtless have far more need of it than she did. She was largely unhurt, though her ribs ached from the giant's grip and her head throbbed, but that was where the positive aspects of the situation ended.

Peter had stood by and watched, never moving to help or calling out, even when Edmund had been struck, and that worried her terribly. She had no doubts now that Edmund had been right. She had seen the strange, disconnected expression on her eldest brother's face and the look of terrible glee on the Green Lady's as she had been carried away. And Edmund, but she could not bear to think of Edmund, save to reassure herself that he must be alive. He must be! He must be. But how? And I can't get the cordial to him because I'm stuck inside a cell! She ground her teeth in frustration, never minding what Susan would say. Susan! If only I could get a message to her! She could send Orieus and the army to help us. But there was no way to get a message out, and even if she could have it would take two weeks for the army to reach Harfang.

Lucy pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead on them. She would not cry, she vowed silently, she was the Valiant Queen and she would not betray the title Aslan gave her by faltering now.

Aslan, we are in Your paws now as we always are. Please, watch over us, especially over Edmund and Peter. She shivered, alone in the cold and the dark, but she did not cry and somehow, she could still believe that she was never alone, for Aslan was always with her.

Edmund barely had time to realise what was happening before he felt the impact of the giant's gauntleted hand and found himself tumbling through the air. The impact against the wall was so sudden, so unexpected that it barely had time to hurt him, though he knew it had hurt him terribly, and for a moment the pain did not register. He struggled weakly to turn his head; trying to see what had become of Lucy and Peter, trying to call out to them, when the pain, the blinding agony, struck him so suddenly that he did not even have time to cry out before his vision faded and there was nothing left but darkness and throbbing, mind numbing agony.

When next he was consciously aware someone was carrying him, none too gently, and he could just hear, over the relentless throbbing of his head, the thudding footfalls of a giant. Then he was dropped or thrown onto something lumpy and smelling faintly of blood. He tried to open his eyes but thought better of it when someone nudged him roughly in the ribs; he heard a groan and realised vaguely that it was his own voice, responding to the pain in his ribs.

"This one's still alive; he's breathing," said the rough voice of a giant.

"Leave him here with the rest," responded another, deeper voice. "He won't be for long." The two laughed loudly and cruelly, voices and footsteps fading as they retreated.

Edmund tried to catch his breath and ignore the agony pulsing through his body with every frantic beat of his heart. Something was dreadfully wrong with him, but his mind raced, panicked and out of control, and he could not focus on what it was. He had nearly managed to calm his breathing when the footsteps returned and something heavy was thrown down on top of him, crushing what little air he had managed to get from his lungs. Whatever it was felt strangely furry and something damp and slightly sticky dripped from it; Edmund smelled the sharp tang of blood and knew that not all of it could be his own.

True panic gripped him then and he thrashed wildly, trying to push whatever it was off, but another object was thrown down on top of the first one and he could not move. The giants laughed from somewhere above him, their voices harshly amused.

"He'll stop breathing soon enough once we're done with the rest of this rabble," one of them said merrily. "I heard this one is one of those Narnian kings; what a pity there will be no one left to mourn his death." The footsteps retreated and the laughter slowly faded into the distance.

Edmund tried to lie still, to remain calm; to focus only on drawing in what little air he could with the terrible weight pressing down on him, but the terror of suffocating, of being trapped, buried, unable to move gripped him. He struggled vainly, his broken and battered body too weak to be of any use, and he felt the darkness pulling at him, threatening to drag him so far into it that he would never wake.

"Peter," he managed to gasp out, unreasonably calling out for his brother even though he knew Peter was not there. He gagged as blood ran into his mouth and trickled down his throat, threatening to choke him with the taste of death. "Peter!" But Peter could not save him and he fell, helpless, into the arms of the waiting darkness. Peter, help me.

Okay, I swear I'm actually sorry, but I really couldn't help it. If you hate it, let me know in a review, same goes for if you love it or are disgustedly indifferent. Also, if you have any guesses as to what exactly is happening at the end of the chapter let me know that as well! Thank you for reading and reviewing as always; the next chapter, the second part of this chapter really if you read the chapter title, will be posted soon. I can't leave you with that ending for long; it would simply be cruel.

Cheers, (also, please don't murder me)

A