Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: There's danger in the north. Giants hunt for Narnia's Kings and General. Who will survive when hope is eclipsed?

A/N: If you have not read the first nine stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, Reflected, Veiled, and Unveiled), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Sixteen: Deal with the Devil

It was not until dawn had come and gone that Fea returned to the Giant encampment. Peter watched through barely open eyes as Morfran listened to the Giantess' argument. Finally, he offered a surly nod and wandered around the camp, kicking his comrades awake. At their grumbling, he swore and threatened until they at least moved for fear he would do to them what he had done to Grawk the night before. Fea did not stop to visit Edmund. Instead, she joined Morfran in threatening the Ettins into helping them search for Nemain.

As the Giants stomped off in different directions, Peter watched in despair as two of the more intelligent Harfangers planted themselves, spears in hand, in front of where he and Edmund were resting. The distraction of Nemain's disappearance would not prove fruitful in regards to serving up another opportunity for escape. Indeed, he feared that they had used all of their previous chances, if one could count Fea's so-called test as a true chance for escape.

The lack of snoring from where Edmund was curled on his side proved his little brother was also awake. A weary sigh escaped Peter as he sat up and then rested his arms on his knees and hung his head. Aslan, I do not wish to be here. I do not wish to go through this any longer. What do I do? Should I sacrifice myself to win a chance for freedom for Ed? You know we can neither of us withstand the cruel attentions of the Harfangers for long should they win their schemes.

Muttering rose among the remaining Ettins and Peter raised his head to see the two of them standing with their heads together as they muttered and gestured toward his and Edmund's guards. Not counting Grawk, whose beating had rendered him essentially useless, only four Giants remained in the camp. If they got into a fight . . . They would probably kill them by accident in the midst of their quarrel.

Peter nudged Edmund with his foot as one of the Ettins lumbered over. "Give us meat!"

His brother sat up with a dark scowl on his face and his hair sticking up in odd clumps. As soon as Edmund's eyes narrowed further, Peter clapped a hand on his brother's arm but it was too late as Edmund called, "Who are you calling 'meat?'"

The Ettin let out a bellow. "You!" He charged only to be hit in the ribs with the butt of one of the Harfangers' spears. His beady eyes narrowed with hate. "You canna stop us." He yanked a spiked cudgel free and slammed it into the Harfanger's upraised arm.

The Harfanger howled as the spikes tore through tunic and flesh, sending large drops of blood splashing down to stain the barren ground. Then he beat the Ettin again with his spear haft. The other Harfanger also leapt into the fray but his aim was spoiled as the other Ettin beat the spear aside with his own club.

Peter looked at Edmund. They nodded then surged to their feet. It was the only chance. Peter knew it. He could feel it in his bones. Together they raced past the brawling Giants, past the blood, old and new, that was shed, to their last hope of freedom. The Giants never broke off fighting.

Then Grawk's slurred voice called, "They'se runnin'!"

The brothers exchanged looks and ran faster. But Peter could feel the effects of little food and even less rest as his body ached and his muscles screamed in agony far too soon. He could not stop, though. He dared not stop. But the ground shook beneath his feet as he ran, bearing the tale that the Giants had heard their companion's warning. No, by Aslan, he would not be taken. He would force them to kill him before he would let himself be taken again.

A heavy blow caught him in the side, knocking him into the canyon wall before he fell in a heap to the ground. Peter's ears were ringing, he could taste blood, but he still managed to gather his wits enough to force himself up on his hands and knees.

"Peter! Peter! Get up, you halfwit! Run!"

Edmund's voice came as though from some place far away and on the other end of a long tunnel. Peter opened his eyes and the ground swam. But still he forced himself up. He staggered to his feet and stumbled away from the Giant as he let loose a hideous laugh. Then another blow came. Peter struck the ground again, groaning in pain as the shock reverberated through his body. Another odious laugh rent through the ringing in his ears as a meaty hand grasped his legs and flopped him over as though he were a fish. Peter stared into the cruel eyes of one of the Ettins. "You can't win."

The Ettin chortled, his breath wafting over him, and then he propped Peter up. He called over his shoulder, "Bring the other one! Make 'im watch!"

Before Peter could react, the Ettin's attention was on him once more and he wrapped one hand around his arm and then he pulled. Peter gasped as the first shots of pain sped up his arm to his shoulder joint. The Ettin's cruel grin swam before him as the pressure slowly increased and he continue to pull his arm in a deliberate, cruel fashion of slow dislocation. Peter heard a snap and felt hot pain radiating from his upper arm and a scream of pain ripped free despite his determination to resist such weakness. The Ettin laughed. Oh how he laughed, horrid and gruesome as he took sickening pleasure in his slow torture. Peter screamed as he felt ligaments tearing and bones grinding together. The Ettin laughed.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear Edmund blistering the Giants' ears with imaginative curses. But now black edged his vision, slowly blotting the ugly sight of the Ettin's cruel leer. Then a pain that rivaled almost all he had known ripped through him and he screamed once more. Then it all went black.

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Thalia clapped both hands over her mouth to keep from screaming as the Ettin released Peter's arm. It hung unnaturally at his side, even beneath his tunic she could see the way a gap now appeared between his shoulder and his arm. Horror slowly gave way to fury as she watched Edmund sprint to her husband. The General had instructed her that she must not interfere yet when she was leading him to the nearest Ettin but even he could not have foreseen this happening. The Giants would kill Peter and Edmund if something was not done!

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"Peter!"

His brother didn't move. His face was pale beneath the dirt and beard. The only sign of life was his rapid breathing. Edmund fell to his knees beside him but dared not touch his arm. His eyes lit on the Ettins who were laughing stupidly and narrowed to mere slits. "Do you think this is funny? What will Fea do to you when she finds him like this?"

The Ettin who had dared to harm his brother laughed but his laughter was cut short as he abruptly slapped at the back of his neck. Then his comrade laughed. "Bugs got ya!"

Edmund shook his head and turned back to his unconscious brother. How was he going to move him? He would have to wake him up to the pain that unconsciousness had provide a temporary escape from, there was no other way. The Ettins were too busy shoving at each other as one rejoiced at the other's misfortune to care as Edmund laid a hand on his brother's good shoulder and shook him. "Peter, wake up."

A low cry burst from Peter's lips but he did not open his eyes as he curled inward, seeming not to realize that the movement would only increase the pain. Edmund grit his teeth as he shook his shoulder again. "I'm sorry, Pete, but you have to wake up. We have to move."

Peter opened his eyes slightly and a faint whisper escaped, "Home?"

He bit his lip as he shook his head. "Not yet. But we're going to make it. Now, you great lummox, wake up. I can't lug your entire weight through these canyons. Thalia and Susan said I couldn't dent your skull anymore, even if it is hard as a rock."

His mouth twitched into the tiniest of smiles before he struggled to sit straight and pain washed all vestiges of humor away as he gasped. He bit his bottom lip so hard that he drew blood. Wishing he could do otherwise, Edmund had no choice but to continue prodding. He carefully slid a hand under his brother's arm and tugged him to his feet. Peter moaned and his head lolled alarmingly in response as he sagged against Edmund. There was no longer a great difference in their heights but Edmund felt ever inch he was missing as he struggled to keep the great lummox from falling over. "Get up, Peter. This is not time to imitate a sack of flour, Pevensie. Oreius will kill us if he catches you sleeping on your feet. Think of the visits to the points of the compass. Do you want to do all those?"

"Nooo, comp'. No." Peter's head finally raised a little and some of the weight shifted imperceptibly off Edmund's shoulders.

"Good! Now straighten up, we have to walk."

It figured it would take the dread disciplinary exercise (although sometimes Oreius tortured them with it just because . . . he claimed stamina but Edmund and Peter agreed it was just as likely a manifestation of the Centaur's very odd sense of humor) to get his brother moving. The Ettin who had been bitten continued to scratch at his neck as he watched Edmund help Peter limp back toward the Giants' encampment. They had no choice but to go back with Peter hurt like he was and Edmund suspected he had a number of cracked ribs too.

As soon as Peter realized which direction they were going in, he tried to dig his heels in. "Noo. Noo. Noo."

Edmund tightened his grip on his brother's good arm and around his waist. "I know, Pete, shhh. It won't last long. I'm going to find a way out of here but shush now. Don't think about where we're going. Think about Thalia. Have you started planning for Christmas yet? I still say you should give her those Harpy stilts."

"Not stilts, Eddie."

He snorted. "That is what you drew."

"Not."

"Yes, it is. You're not going to give her a poem, are you?"

"My poems are good. Flower likes 'em."

"She's your wife. She has to say that." If he could keep him talking, he could keep him from giving up. He just had to keep his big brother from worrying and Thalia was always good for that. "So what will you give her?"

"Roses."

"She's a Beech Nymph."

"She likes roses." Peter grimaced and stumbled, crying out softly as Edmund overcompensated. "Maybe different flowers for my Flower?"

"Oh please tell me you don't write that sort of stuff in your poems."

"She likes my poems."

"You think she likes your cooking too."

Peter huffed then groaned but a faint smile still appeared on his pain-creased features. "My cooking's good. Thalia loves it. I'm going . . . I'm going to make breakfast and lunch and supper for her for Christmas Eve."

His sister-in-law would be too ill to attend the Christmas Day Ball if Peter did that to her. Edmund snorted. "You realize that food poisoning is not a good Christmas present."

"She loves my cooking. I cooked every day of our honeymoon."

How did Thalia survive? Edmund shook his head but the reply died half-formed on his tongue when he looked up to see Morfran and three more Giants, two Ettins and one Harfangers, waiting in the camp. Anger burned a cold path through his heart as he kept Peter going to the little alcove they had been in before and then he carefully lowered Peter to the ground. He failed to keep his damaged arm from flopping though and Peter's scream scraped across his ears before his brother went limp.

A quick check found his thready pulse. Edmund stared at his brother's motionless form. He wasn't going to survive. Not if he didn't find a way to get out of here. And now there was only one option Edmund could think of. Steeling himself, he rose to his feet and marched over to Morfran. "I wish to make a bargain."

"What can you offer?"

"My . . ." He trailed off and then clenched his fists as he forced the vile words off his tongue, "My full cooperation with plans to rebuild the Harfangers' glory, such as it has ever been, on the condition you allow my brother to return to Narnia alive and with no further damage done to him."

Morfran suddenly grinned. "What of his obligation to my sister?"

Bile surged but Edmund swallowed it back then replied steadily, "I will fulfill it."

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A/N: Please Read and Review! Dun, dun, dun! Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one!