To put it it simply, the whole day, no, the whole week had been a complete mess. There was no other word to describe what Peter viewed as the most trying week since the War began in England. He remembered his fear well from that day. As he listened to the broadcast from Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, Peter could not help but feel his world-shattering. It was as if everything that happened the day before had merely been a dream- and he finally woke up to a horrible reality.

Consequently, this country is at war with Germany. Those words lingered in his head- even now as Peter made his way back to the throne room. The Prime Minster's words were a constant reminder that everything he knew changed, or could change at any moment- and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Susan was right. Peter would admit that. He never wanted to feel helpless again. So, he tried to do all he could to control his life and Peter couldn't help but think that was where he had gone wrong all along.

If he hadn't been trying to take charge when Dad left, or admitted he was merely trying to control his life through attempting to control others, Edmund may have not been so upset, or Susan so annoyed all the time.

Lucy on the other hand seemed to be the exception, cheerful to do what her older brother asked.

Maybe because she trusts me to do what is right.

I wish she didn't.

I have made some horrible choices.

Peter laughed to himself and paused to glance down the hallway behind him.

Where's Edmund?

His brother was most likely sulking, but he wasn't one to get dressed slowly. On one of the first nights of air raids, no one had been prepared to scramble to the nearest shelter two blocks away. But when Peter had come running into Edmund's room to find him dressed.

Sloppily, but dressed and with shoes.

So, what is taking him so long? Peter scowled a bit and wondered if he wouldn't come at all. It was true that it wasn't Edmund's fault that the Witch cursed him, but Peter could see where his younger brother blamed himself- when it was really my fault. If I hadn't been so mean to him…

"Peter," a light voice said, making Peter turn to see King Lune come through the main doors of the throne room. He was a tall man with wavy blond hair and a matching mustache that almost looked comical. He was slender in build, but Peter could tell he was far stronger than him. But what truly worried the High King was the look of concern on the other's face.

"Is everything all right?" Peter asked, not sure why his guest had left his entourage to seek him out.

"It just stopped snowing," King Lune began hesitantly, glancing behind him at the throne room. "The flakes turned to ice and then- poof. Gone. And I had this horrible-"

Peter turned and ran back toward his brother's room without a second thought. If the snow was gone, then that meant Edmund- Peter couldn't think about that. Not again. He had already thought of what to say to Lucy and Susan, but now, he wished he could forget how to speak.

"Wait!" King Lune called out to him and began to follow him through the corridors of the Cair to Edmund's quarters.

When Peter reached his brother's bedroom, he threw open the door. The first thing he saw was what looked like blood stains on the floor, if they had been red, and the open wardrobe. Without a second though, Peter went for the other door.

If Narnia was in a wardrobe, then what was in a Narnian wardrobe? It didn't really matter to him, but it was clear that his brother was there- and hurt.

Peter shoved past the clothes and the boots until he sensed something had changed. The floor under his feet was a different kind of wood. A more hollow-sounding wood that seemed like old floorboards. Then, he found the back of the wardrobe, or so he thought until he found a door handle. He threw the door open and his eyes were instantly blinded by a portable electric light.

"What?" a voice said and Peter had no idea what to say in response aside from:

"Let me through!" he shoved past the man in the green uniform, only to pause. Before him, there were rows and rows of beds- occupied by wounded soldiers and there were nurses in white uniforms roaming the wasteland of death. Peter paused in the doorway, unsure what to do next. He needed to know where his brother was and more importantly, learn where he was. Because all his fears came rushing back. What if he was in the middle of a war zone and the Germans were about to bomb them all, or-

Peter staggered forward as King Lune bumped into him, the gold crown in the High-King's hand clattering to the ground.

"Where in the world am I?" King Lune asked, amazed by what he saw.

"I don't know," Peter said, his voice stern once again. "But do what I say. If I say 'run', do it."

"Why would I-"

"Don't. Question me." Peter ordered, bending down to pick up his crown before moving toward the nearest nurse. She eyed him with confusion before asking if there was anything she could do for him.

"Yes, ma'am," Peter nodded and asked if she had seen his brother. "He's younger and shorter than me, has black hair, and-"

"Name?" The nurse asked next.

"Edmund Pensive."

"You mean, Sargent John's son?" she asked next and Peter nodded. "It was rather strange, John found him in the supply room if I recall."

"Is he all right?" Peter asked next.

"I don't know more than that. There are many injured and-"

"Is he alive?!" Peter nearly yelled at her, making the nurse flinch.

"I don't-"

Peter shoved past her and marched down the row of injured soldiers. He had to find his father. In any other situation, Peter would have been ecstatic to know his father was there with him. But not now. Not when Edmund could be dead. Not only that, but explains what happened in Narnia- as if his father would believe Narnia was real.

"Please, wait!" the nurse called after him, her footsteps following. "You can't just-"

"He can do whatever he wishes," King Lune told her with a hardy laugh as he joined the adventure at hand, "don't you know your High King?"

"I don't think-"

"Please, my dear lady, have some respect for the one crowned by Aslan himself."

The conversation continued on between the two of them, but Peter chose to ignore it and continued to the front doors of the warehouse. With its high ceilings and wooden floors, the hospital must have been one before the war. And if no one knew if Edmund was all right, Peter was going to find out for himself. If he was alive, it had to be snowing outside- right?

Peter counted on it.

He reached out and was about to open the sliding wooden doors when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Don't," a rough voice said, one he didn't know. "We gotta keep it warm in here. It's freezing out there."

"Where is my brother?" Peter demanded next of the soldier who was holding him back.

"Who is he?"

Peter took a deep breath and tried to calm himself before explaining the best he could. "And the nurse said a child was found in the supply closet-"

"Oh, yeah. That kid. Last I heard they were still patching him up- knife in the back or something."

"Is he alive?!" Peter hated he had to ask- he never wanted to ask again. "Will he be all right?"

"Donno. Supplies have been running low lately, so I have no idea. But I will pray for him."

"Thank you." Peter wished there was more he could do, but it was clear he wasn't going to know about his brother for a long time. At least Edmund was here and there were doctors to help, but he hated being helpless. Peter's hand fell away from the warehouse door and he moved to sit on the floor. "Tell me though… where am I?"

"France, kid. Cold, tired, and barely holding together against those damn Nazis."

Peter was sure his parents would have ripped his tongue out for the next word that left his mouth, but it didn't matter. Nothing did. The world he left was continuing to collapse around him and there was nothing he could do. "When did the Germans attack?"

"A few days ago," the soldier said, "we're trying to hold them off, but I wouldn't count on winning."

"Damn it," Peter glanced down as he felt tears begin to form in his eyes. If only he hadn't gone to Narnia-

"Peter?" His dad's voice asked from his right, making the young man look up. "What in the world are-"

"Dad!" Peter rushed to his feet and as much as he wanted to hug the man he missed so dearly, he found himself asking about Edmund. "Is he all right? Is-"

"Yes," John Pevensive sighed heavily and without a second thought, hugged Peter. "He's all right. I don't know why you are here, or why I found him when I went to the supply room- it was all so strange. But Edmund's in good hands. I can promise you that. At the moment, the doctors say he's going to be all right. Thankfully the knife didn't make it all the way through to the other side of his left lung. But damn, it scared me."

"Me too," Peter clung to his dad, not wanting to let go. Thank you, Aslan.

"It may take a week or so for him to recover, but he's going to be all right." His dad added next. "But I don't know what exactly happened if I am honest. I went to get more supplies and instead of the small room, I opened the door and stepped into this luxurious room. It was so confusing, but then I saw Edmund."

"I am so glad you found him," Peter couldn't explain Narnia right now, but he was so grateful his father had stepped into the other world. "but what about the medicine? If the supply-"

"The medicine and medical supplies are thankfully in a different room," his father said with a small laugh. "But I have the same concern as I went back to make sense of it all and I found the door still leads to where I found your brother. But maybe that's a good-"

"Excuse me," King Lune said, making Peter step away from his father. "If you don't mind my asking, Your Majesty, who would want to stab King Edmund? That's what I have been wondering for-"

"King?" John looked from the weird blond to his son, who was also blond, but less weird. Hopefully.

"Yes, King-"

"Don't worry about it," Peter didn't feel like explaining the last week and a half to his father. "Lune, this is my father. Sargent John Pevensie."

"It is truly an honor-"

Peter stepped on the other monarch's toes, cutting him off. "He's happy to meet you."

"Pleasure," John shook the other man's hand before turning back to his son. "I am sorry to ask this, but I need to you explain something to me."

"What's that?" Peter's mind made a quick list of possible questions, but he was not prepared for one asked of him.

"It confused the doctors as much as it confused me," John began, almost hesitating. "Why is your brother's blood emerald green? It makes no-"

"That can't be right," Lune said, making both of them look in his direction. "It can't be."

"What's wrong?" Peter asked. The other king suddenly looked pale with fear. "Please, explain."

"Yes, I will. It's merely that I have heard about this before. I know it's most likely an obscure thing to remember, so please forgive me."

"Of course," Peter said, "go on."

"My grandfather, King Sonne, having learned Narnia had fallen to the Witch, went to war against her. It was a terrible battle, in the freezing cold- so many turned to stone. But he managed to survive. He said she was far too quick, but he managed to strike a blow to her waist. Which means he was apparently quite short-or maybe she was extraordinarily tall. But he told me he managed to get away- because the brilliant green blood from her wound, caused trees of ice to spring from the ground as it fell, separating them from battle. And now, this talk of your brother-"

"No," Peter shook his head. That couldn't be right- couldn't be true.

I saw her make weapons, furs, whatever we needed…

There was this Turkish delight that she made from the snow, Peter.

She had this little vial…

Of green liquid.

"No." He said again, hoping if he denied it enough, it would be false.

"What?" Lune asked, shushing John who was trying to understand all this 'witch' stuff. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I-" Peter needed a moment to breathe- because he couldn't. Suddenly, everything wasn't the same. His brother had not only been cursed by the Witch, she had given him her power and not only that, but the same blood was- "Oh, Aslan."

A moment later Peter found himself being guided to sit down on the nearest bed by those around him.

"Peter, what's wrong?" His father asked again, but he couldn't answer. He didn't want to answer. "What's wrong with Edmund? Please. Speak to me. Because I don't understand any of this. All I know is my youngest son shouldn't have so many scars."

A/N: What did I tell you? Life got more fun. And yes, we will discuss the time jump (yes, there was one that I will explain next chapter.). But right now, I would like to take a moment to thank fellow Narnia fic writer, elecktrum for letting me use their headcanon that Jadis' blood can create food and stuff. Thank you so much. On another note, I liked a lot of the fandom names for their dad, but someone who I can't remember used John and it made so much sense it would be another bible name! Thank you as well.

P.s. Yes, you can find the radio broadcast by PM Chamberlain declaring war on Germany.