A/N: I'm sorry this took a while to get up, but here it is. It was exams month and it took me a while to actually sit down and figure out what was going to be in the next chapter. This chapter is divided into three different perspectives – I hope you like it. (Also, pleased to say that my semester break is going start next week! So expect a chapter, maybe two, in the coming days.)

Chapter 18: Haze

It was around dinner time when Lucy (and, reluctantly, Edmund) decided it would be the best time to apologize to Susan, but Susan (being Susan) hadn't welcomed them into her room with open arms.

Her face, lined with tear tracks, was smothered in pillows, her hair spread across, her legs dangling inches above her bed.

"Susan, please open the door."

Not an answer. Lucy turned to look supportively at Edmund, who shrugged and said nothing. She rattled the door knob from side to side. "Susan, we're sorry. Both of us. Please."

Nothing yet.

"Well don't just sit there," Lucy snapped uncharacteristically.

Edmund walked over and gave several firm knocks. "Susan, it's time for dinner." With still no reply, he looked to Lucy. "Face it, Lu. She's not coming out, at least not while we're around. Let's just go."

"I can't go to sleep," Lucy said quietly. "Not without knowing she's forgiven me."

"There's nothing to forgive," Edmund said. "She's just tired. I'm tired."

And there was no more sound, at least from Susan's persepective. Carefully, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pushed it to the door, hearing nothing. Edmund and Lucy had given up and gone to bed.

That was when Susan, making virtually no noise, bolted to her wardrobe, pulling down a dark, midnight blue gown. She pulled it on with no struggle, freeing her hair from the fabric, allowing it to cascade down her back. Carefully, she tied over her neck a brown cape, shrouding her face with it. Her bow and arrow, still in the fit shape it was when given to her by Father Christmas, was in the armoury. But ever since that fateful night, even with two satyrs by each entrance, she kept a blade, similar to Lucy's but longer in length, by her bedside. Hesitating, she grabbed it, sheathed it, and headed for the door.

o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o

The moonlight fell through the small, rusty iron bars; it wasn't much, but it was enough. Even so, Cedany lifted her skirt and walked over to the part of the cell with the most hay, cushioning it like it was her former mistress' bed before collapsing onto it, head in her knees.

She had been in the cell for almost four or five days now, and had begun to think of what had past. Her friends, her family, the pleasure she had to serve such a noble family; a valiant, just, gentle and magnificent family. What she only thought of her parents was that she would meet them soon; they had died when she was barely even old enough to call herself a child, and maybe she would meet the same fate.

She had won over the trust of the the second youngest Pevensie. She had seen him live up to his title, the Just, her plight had brought him to her cell, his hands on hers. Perhaps she was too young to know what love was, or perhaps she had been deluted; all she knew is that she had the courtesy and the absolute pleasure to witness t.

And so Cedany smiled through her tears.

She would not smile for long.

A rattle forced her to life her face from her dainty knees. An agressive rattle, a demanding rattle. She stood up, squinting through the darkness. "Is someone there?"

No answer.

"Edmu – my Lord? Is that you?"

Nothing.

She followed the sounds, until her body was nearly pressed to the iron cell bars, and gasped as she was able to make out a face. "My L -"

But her sentence had gone unfinished, as whoever was on the opposite end plunged a dagger into her with all their might, twisting it as she gasped her final breaths.

She collapsed to the floor, hearing the footsteps of her assailant quicken as she gasped in pain. She did not call for the gaurds. She only lay there, accepting her fate, accepting what was to come, and welcoming it.

o-O-o-O-o-O-o-O-o

It was a monochromatic blur, or a flash, rather; Thea's screams, Susan's arrows whipping through the air at the speed of light, Magnus yelling at them to run while they could, Peter ignoring those orders. Suddenly everything slowed, similar to how they had that morning in Beruna when Peter had spotted Aslan amongst the fallen army. Susan was halfway through turning, her long dark hair blocking Peter from looking upon her face as she reached, painfully slow, to grab another arrow. Magnus was screaming, his words unintelligible, his beard bloodied. Thea was sprawled on the ground, shielding her face with her arm, while, still in slow motion, one of the mercenaries had his sword raised in a death blow.

Peter opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He looked around frantically, resting his eyes on the bush where the first mercenary had leapt from; in the green stood Aslan, his majestic mane glowing in the morning sun. The edges of Peter's mouth twiched upward, but Aslan did not return the friendly smile. Instead, he turned his head, his magnificent eyes sparkling like Peter had never seen before. His head turned to Thea, still sprawled on the ground. Peter followed and turned his head to the right.

It was like back in England when Peter had gone to see films with the rest of his family before their father was sent off to the war; when there was an error with the image in the screening and a film burn before another image had started. Thea's stance on the ground immediatley changed to her standing on the forest floor, hair back in place and clothing as if she had never stumbled in the first place. It was a shock to Peter, but he didn't feel his face change. Thea's posture was perfect, as if she was in a middle of a banquet rather than a skirmish. The mercenaries all ran past her, as if she were an invisible ghost, instead aiming for Susan and himself.

Peter whipped around to look back to Aslan, but saw nothing.

And that was when his eyes flew open and his body, drenched with sweat, bolted upright.

Sooo... where's Susan off to? Who killed Cedany? And what's Peter's dream telling him? Please R/R!