I have so many people to thank who have been helping me, better my writing especially with this chapter. I wish I could name them all but I sadly can't recall all of them. A speacial thanks go to 's E-Inklings writers group and to H Max Marius.

Silently Susan turned the key in the rusty lock and she stepped into her elder brother's cell beneath the Tisroc's palace. The darkness and cold of the room engulfed her and none of the light from the torches mounted on the wall outside shone in. Mold and fungus grew plentifully, and the origin of the water dripping down the grimy walls was questionable. A small breeze from a crack in the wall blew across Susan's face, carrying with it a horrid stench of things that made her stomach churn. There was no grate in the wall to the road above, not even glimmer of sunshine in this wretched place.

There at the back of the cell sat Peter in his torn and stained Narnian garb. Her heart wrenched as her eyes fell upon his starved and bloodied form. His eyes were closed and his head lay back against the filthy wall. Susan winced inwardly as she saw his arms were shackled above his head.

A small cut ran across his bruised cheek. From the injuries visible on his body, it was obvious to Susan that the despicable creature, Rabadash, had a 'meeting' with Narnia's magnificent king and extracted a price from him, for his and his siblings defiance.

Slowly she knelt in front of him and as quietly as she could, unlocked the shackles from his wrists. Flinching at her touch, his blue eyes slowly flickered open.

"Susan?" he rasped, a small wheeze escaping on the heels of his question. The expression he wore was one of confusion and surprise and relief. Holding a finger to his badly chapped lips, she softly shushed him, seeing how every word hurt his parched throat.

"Here, drink this," Narnia's Gentle Queen ordered, pressing the chalice to his mouth. Hastily, Peter drank, his parched lips not able to draw enough water in. Suddenly, he choked, coughing fitfully and gasping for breath.

Setting the ornate goblet down, Susan propped her brother up as he leaned forward. For several horrifying moments, she wondered if her brother would asphyxiate. Water trickled down his cheek forming a pool at the tip of his chin, then dripping to the floor.

When Peter had regained his breath again, the gentle queen helped prop up her brother again. "Lucy?" He queried.

"Shh, shh. She's safe."

Exhausted, he laid his head back and closed his eyes, sighing as sleep overcame his tortured body. Smiling faintly, Susan brushed a few golden locks out of his face. Oh how peaceful he looked in sleep, his face un-frought by anxiety and pain.

But the peace hardly lasted. He lurched forward, eyes starting in the haggard face. His intake of breath rasped like stones over the damp walls; it grated to her very soul. "He tried," he said slowly, painfully, weakly. "Now I see...so close. Nearly they fall, who stand. Oh, Susan. . .Susan, he was so close to making me deny him."

"Who?" asked Susan, her voice caught in her throat.

Dropping his head on his chest, he whispered one word, the anguish evident on his face. "Aslan."

The gentle queen stroked a few hairs back off of her elder brother's face, watching him drift off into uneasy slumber again.

"Susan?" Lucy called out softly. She stood in the half-lit corridor, the light from the sputtering torch on the wall framing her figure. Edmund was beside her, farther back into the shadows. He leaned heavily on his sister's slim shoulder. "I've got Ed. Reiningard was able to secure us a few minutes."

She turned, surprised at the appearance of her two youngest siblings. Quietly she observed her younger brother and sister as they entered the filthy cell. He looked as if he hadn't slept in a few days, and his breath sounded harsh and pained. Her eyes scrutinized him, taking his whole frame and searching for any further injuries. He also seemed to drag his left leg behind him, but with the shadows she could not tell clearly.

Reaching his elder sister's side, Edmund's knees buckled underneath him. Lucy, taking the brunt of her brother's diminishing weight, lowered him gently down. Her heart clenched painfully at the sight of her strong, knightly brothers reduced to weak, starved prisoners.

Half crawling, half draging his body, the Just king made his way over to his injured brother and pulled his brother's body into his lap.

A large stain of dark red on the left leg of Edmund's breaches caught Lucy's eye. "Edmund, what happened?"

"Rabadash," he muttered, turning back to his brother to survey the extent of this brother's injuries. "After we were separated in the courtyard, they brought Peter and me down here. They threw us into our cells, but Rabadash wanted to speak privately to Peter. I don't know how long it was but when..." He paused, taking a breath and swallowing, "When they returned, they were dragging him like a flour sack, he didn't even look alive."

"If only I had my cordial..."

Her brother turned to back to lock eyes with her in silent question.

"No Ed. They didn't take it. I left it in Cair's in the treasure room remember?"

"Oh Aslan. What have they done to you this time, my brother?" She heard the younger king's agonized hoarse whisper. "And why in all of Narnia to you?"

"Come, Lu, help me," Susan hissed. "We have them get out of her while there's still time!"

At that moment, the High King's eyes opened. He woozily tried to rise, thinking perhaps he was being woken up for another torture session, but he was unable too. Slowly as his eyes regained focus, he began to notice his surroundings. His siblings all looked down at him with various, worried expressions.

"Ed? Lucy? Did...Did he hurt you?"

Lucy chuckled humorlessly, "Have some care for yourself, brother," as she dabbed at the gash on her brother's shoulder, that showed through a tear in the ragged cloth.

"What ...What happened...to you?" Edmund finally managed to choke out, his voice hoarse and full of emotion.

"He tried to break me, Ed. I nearly denied him...But it's so fuzzy still…"

"Shh…" Susan shushed him, once more laying a gentle finger to her brother's lips. But it availed her none for the High King merely shook his head, pushing himself halfway up.

"I remember we went through a dark hallway, and then….then a key turning in a lock. The door opened, and …" he paused and shook as if shuddering at the memory. "Every terrible device you can imagine…. was there…" Exhausted, he fell back, breathing hard. Looking up at his brother's face, the older king saw it was a mix of sadness and stern fierceness. He also saw that his brother was close to cracking. Unshed tears lurked in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, Peter," Edmund whispered softly.

Tiredly, and not without a measure of pain, Peter reached for his brother's hand. Clasping it in his own, his eyelids drifted shut.

The three of them spent a little while longer, just relishing being each others presence and being with each other again. All to soon, Reiningard was there telling them their time was up. Then came the bitter parting; for Edmund must go back to his own cell and the girls to their rooms. Brothers' cheeks were brushed with sisterly kisses, blessing given, farewells said and then the two queens departed for their quarters.

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