First off, sorry for the evil cliffhanger in the middle of the previous chapter...I simply couldn't resist! Second, and more importantly, I have a beta reader! The amazing PaintingMusic14 was kind enough to help with this chapter and she did an amazing job! Thirdly, thank you to everyone who has reviewed; you are all awesome! And now, on to the resolution of the last chapter's cliffhanger!

Lucy shivered and drew her knees up to her chest; she wished she had her cloak, but then again, she wished a lot of things at the moment. The confidence she had felt while standing up to the King had lasted until the moment she was thrown back into the dark cell and the door was locked behind her. It wasn't that her trust in Aslan had waned, it hadn't, but it is rather more difficult to be brave, even if you still have faith, when you are locked in a room with no one to see your tears.

"I'm not going to cry," she said aloud, stubbornly, into the darkness. "I am a queen, not a child." She sniffled miserably; she was brave, she was a queen, but regardless she was still a child. She wished Susan were there, not with her in the cell, but there to comfort her, fuss over the mess she had made of her hair; anything really. But Susan was far, far away in Cair Paravel, and Lucy hoped, safe. If Peter were there he would wrap his arms around her and protect her from whatever dangers, real or imagined, threatened her. But Peter was not there; he was enchanted, so unlike himself that Lucy doubted he would have comforted her even if he was with her. Edmund-"He is dead." At least, that was what the King claimed. He can't really be dead; he can't! But she decided it might be best not to think about Edmund.

"Don't be a fool Lucy," she said, in her best imitation of Susan at her most motherly. "Of course he isn't dead and Peter will come to his senses soon enough." She sniffled again, and decided to blame it on the cold that seeped from the stones and seemed to settle as a dull ache in her bones.

"Oh Aslan, I'm not brave enough; I'm frightened. I trust You, I know You have a plan and this will all come right in the end, but I do wish You would tell me how."

Courage, Valiant Queen.

"Aslan?" She blinked and peered through the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of the Lion's golden fur. Something warm and soft brushed against her side and she leaned into it. "Aslan! You're here!"

The Lion purred, the sound rumbling up from within His deep chest and shaking the fur Lucy leaned against. "I am always here, dear one, though you may not always see me."

"Please, can't you tell me if my brothers are alright? I'm terribly worried about Edmund."

"Peter is well in body, though his mind is deeply troubled by the enchantment of this witch's magic." Aslan growled almost imperceptibly. "He has forgotten his faith and his duty to Narnia in his eagerness to believe her lies."

"Can't anything be done?" Lucy buried her face in the Lion's mane, wanting desperately to cry but dreadfully ashamed of needing to. "And what about Edmund?"

"Child, I cannot tell you what must be done for Peter, for that is not a part of your own story," He sounded faintly amused. "As for Edmund, he is in My keeping."

"Yes, but is he alive?"

"Lucy, why do you need to know? Is it not enough to know that I am watching over him?" There was the faintest hint of a growl in His voice and Lucy felt her cheeks flush with shame.

"Yes, Aslan; I'm sorry. I'm trying to be brave, but I'm so terribly afraid." A tear slid from the corner of one eye and was lost in the sea of golden fur.

"Do not be ashamed of your tears, Lucy. Bravery is not an absence of fear, dear heart; it is continuing on despite that fear. You are brave enough for what will be required of you." She felt Him stand and a moment later He touched her forehead with His nose; then He was gone, but something of the warmth He had brought with Him remained.

Lucy rested her forehead against her knees and cried. It was not the kind of crying that always left her with a terrible headache and the knowledge that nothing had been made better by it; instead it was the type that always made her feel very tired, but somehow more hopeful, as if she had finally been able to let go of the fears and doubts that troubled her.

She dried her eyes at last and lay down, curling up with her back against the wall and her head turned towards the door. A wonderful feeling of warmth swept over her, almost as wonderful as the warmth of the Lion's mane, and she fell asleep, as comfortably and peacefully as if she had been in her own bed at Cair Paravel.

Peter did not feel quite like himself, but he wasn't sure what had changed. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant feeling, he felt rather good in fact, but somehow unlike the way he usually felt. His siblings had betrayed him; Edmund was a traitor and dead; Lucy locked in a cell for murder, but somehow, he couldn't really care. He felt that perhaps he should be ashamed by it, but really, Edmund and Susan neither of whom were currently present, were the only ones who would have dared to scold him about it.

All in all, he was in rather good spirits as he dressed for the feast; he was just buckling his sword belt around his waist when the door to his room flew open and Edmund burst in, looking pale enough that Peter wasn't entirely sure he wasn't dead after all. He slammed the door, making Peter's head ache, and leaned against it, breathing hard and looking as though he might collapse at any moment.

"You're dead," and that was really all he could think to say as he stared past his brother at the door. I wonder what my Lady wants me to do about this; he is a traitor, after all. It did not occur to him to wonder when he had begun thinking of her as his Lady.

"Peter?" Edmund took a tentative step towards him and Peter felt a vague sense of disgust. How dare he speak to me as if he's done nothing wrong?

"You're dead," Peter insisted; Edmund had to be dead if his Lady said so. "You betrayed me, and now you're dead." It's really quite simple, if you think about it.

"Peter, it's alright. Whatever she told you she was lying." Now that really was taking things much too far! Peter started to feel angry, but it was a strangely clumsy kind of anger, as if he couldn't quite be sure who it was directed at. "I need you to believe me now; this Lady is a witch. She-" Peter clenched his hands into fists. How dare he!

"I know, but all she has done since the first moment we met her has been to show us kindness, and all you have done is accuse her and doubt her intentions. Did you really think I would take the word of a traitor above the word of my Lady?" My Lady; my Lady who was there for me when you were not; I will hear no insult against her! His head was spinning, throbbing painfully, and he heard his next words from a distance, as if they were not his own. Brother; traitor. Brother. The words seemed to circle endlessly in his mind, even as he spoke, keeping rhythm with the pounding in his head. The Lady has been kind; she has helped me. Edmund has betrayed me; Edmund is dead already. "I will kill you myself for your betrayal." No! Take it back, you fool, take it back; you don't mean it. But the Lady wishes it; my Lady wishes it. Edmund, I'm sorry, I don't mean it. Help me; Eddie, please, help me!

Peter shook his head, clearing it of the strange, jumbled thoughts and glared at his brother. Edmund's face was pale and set with pain but as Peter watched it changed, the set of his jaw relaxed, his eyes lost some of their haunted look, and such a look of quiet faith swept across his features that Peter nearly forgot how much he was supposed to hate him. Edmund drew his sword and offered it to him, kneeling as he did so.

Edmund! Whatever you are doing, please don't. Please! She's too strong; I can't fight her. "Then kill me." He heard his brother say distantly. "I made my choice years ago when you ordered me to leave the battle at Beruna and I disobeyed you. I stand by that choice now, High King, and I stand by the vow I made on our coronation day. I will serve at your side, my brother; I will guard your back, shield you from what dangers I may, share in your joy and in your sorrow; till Aslan command me otherwise or death take me." Edmund! Please; don't make me guilty of this. I can't bear it! Aslan! Help me! I can't bear it! He felt tears spring to his eyes and felt a momentary flash of desperate hope that maybe, somehow, he could fight against the Lady's enchantment. Then he stepped forward, took the sword, and felt the hope die. Edmund bowed his head.

Peter felt his hands shake as he lifted the sword; ready to strike.

Remember your own vow, High King.

Peter trembled at the Lion's voice. "I will serve at your side, my brother; I will strike down your enemies, for your enemies are my own, I will protect you from what dangers I can, share in your triumphs and your defeats; till Aslan command me otherwise or death take me." He heard his own voice, as if from a distance, weak and uncertain at first, but growing steadily stronger with every word. The sword fell from his hands and clattered against the stone floor as Peter dropped to his knees before his brother and embraced him.

"You're alive!" Until that moment he had not been sure, had not consciously been able to cut through the fog of enchantment for long enough to know what was truly real.

"Nice of you to notice," Edmund said, returning his embrace a little stiffly. Peter tightened his hold, as if afraid Edmund would vanish into thin air, and felt his brother tense as he drew in his breath sharply.

"You're hurt!" His mind was still sluggish, trying slowly to catch up with events. He shifted back, suddenly terrified of hurting Edmund further. "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry."

Edmund smirked. "I'm fine; I still wouldn't recommend being tossed around by a giant though, and this is twice in as many weeks."

Peter looked away, suddenly unable to meet his brother's eyes. So, this is what it feels like to be a traitor to everyone you love. "I'm sorry, Edmund, I'm so sorry." But the words weren't enough would never be enough to erase the past days.

"Save it, Peter. It isn't your fault and we haven't the time for guilt right now." His voice was anything but unkind, but Peter almost wished it had been. He nodded nonetheless and got to his feet, offering a hand to Edmund when he didn't stand on his own. Edmund shook his head, lips a rather alarming shade of blue, and stayed where he was. "Just…give me a moment." He smiled, but Peter found it was hardly convincing.

"We need to find Lucy." I owe her an apology almost as much as I owe you one. "Do you know where she is?"

Edmund shook his head again, still making no move to stand. "I was rather hoping you did. I ran into the Green Lady in the courtyard before I could do any scouting and then I came blundering in here. But," he frowned, obviously thinking hard. "If I had hatched a devious plot to trap rival rulers by framing them for murder I would jolly well want to show off my success."

"You think the King will present her at the feast tonight and publicly accuse her? Do you think he would dare?"

"As far as he knows I'm dead, or about to be, and you're a blithering idiot, no offense; I don't think there's much he wouldn't dare to do at this point." He staggered to his feet at last and Peter steadied him quickly as he swayed.

"Ed, you really don't look well; how bad is it this time?" Peter frowned, trying to remember exactly where the giant had struck him; exactly how he had impacted against the wall, but his mind was still hazy.

"It will keep." Again, the unconvincing smile, and Peter's sense of guilt grew. It's my fault; all of this is my fault. "I think our best chance is to slip into the feast somehow and try to get Lucy out. Trebonius, Metelus, and most of the Dogs are waiting somewhere near the city."

"For all this witch knows, her enchantment still has hold of me; if I don't give her cause to be suspicious she'll have me accompany her to the feast as she planned. If you stay here you should be safe for a couple hours; once the giants are too drunk to stop me I can slip away with Lucy and meet you near the stables." Peter saw something akin to distrust flash across Edmund's face, it was gone so swiftly that he might almost have imagined it, but he knew he had not. And why should he trust me? I could just as easily only be pretending to be free of her cursed enchantment. Then, unbelievably, Edmund nodded.

"It's a solid plan, well, as solid as any plans we can currently make are likely to be, but I'm coming with you."

"No."

"Don't argue, Peter, it's too risky otherwise."

"It's too risky if you do come! You're supposed to be dead; she only let come in here so I would kill you." Which I very nearly did.

"I don't care. I'll sneak in while she's distracted by being absolutely charming to you and everyone else she can fool." Edmund scowled at the floor. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound as if I blame you."

Peter shook his head in amazement. Ten minutes ago, he had nearly killed Edmund, and now, here he was, already finding something to apologise for. "Alright, but only because I know you'll come along anyway. I'd rather know about it and be able to watch out for you."

Edmund grinned and clapped him on the shoulder as affectionately as if Peter had done nothing wrong. "I'm glad to know we understand each other."

I don't think I will ever understand how you can be so forgiving. But Peter smiled and heard the voice of the Lion once more. Have courage and be steadfast, High King; for I am always with you.

Peter is back; yay! It's about time honestly, I was getting quite tired of him behaving like an ass. I was rather reluctant to recount the same events over again, but felt that Peter's perspective during his conversation was necessary so I decided to do it anyway; I hope the repetition of parts of the dialogue wasn't too boring. The next chapter will be coming soon, probably not tomorrow, but we'll see. (I feel like I always overestimate the time it will take me to update.) Thank you again to PaintingMusic14 for betaing and to everyone else who is reading. Leave me a review if you can! :-)

Cheers,

A