whipping Catherine's hair heavy against her head as she leaned herself far against the door, which Edmund locked with his torch. The soldiers bang on the wood, struggling to open it and she turns in fear, breathing heavily. Edmund draws his sword as the wood splits and a troop of Telmarines make their way towards them.

He slowly reaches down to grab Catherine's hand, making it feel hot and heavy in hers. He pulls her back alongside him, slowly edging over towards the edge and stands on a small slit in the turret wall, dangerously close to the edge. His sword wavers in front of him, waiting patiently to attack. Edmund brings Catherine close to him, whispering into her ear.

'Do you trust me?'

In a vain attempt to hide the growing blush from her cheeks, she looked away, sheepish, attempting to tame the shivers she felt run down her back. She spoke in a shaky voice, full of adrenaline and fear from both their close proximity and the fear of what he was planning.

'Not really, no!'

She could feel Edmund grin, gripping her tighter before closing his eyes and connecting with a soothing calm. Slowly, she felt herself falling backwards, and leaned into Edmund's body more, attempting to break her fall, because they were falling.

Why were they falling?

In an instant, they were caught by an invisible forced and began to fall upwards, allowing Catherine to open one eye and realise that she was riding the same Griffin that had flew them down onto the tower in the first place. Edmund sat in front of her, letting her grip tightly onto his waist as they flew up towards the sky. He let out a booming laugh, making her smile at the delightful sound.

Grinning, she tilted her head towards the side and introduced herself to the Griffin.

'Hello,' She said in a dreamy polite-ness. 'I didn't get to introduce myself earlier. I'm Princess Catherine III. It's lovely to meet you.'

...

High King Peter shouted, as more Telmarine soldiers flooded through the courtyard. 'Fall back!'

One of the Minotaur's held open the closing gate as it threatened to close, groaning as he did so. His cries of strength were blocked out from the clashing of metal and shouts of war cries coming from both sides of the battle. Peter felt his heart clench, and his anger bubble as he ordered Glenstorm to take his sister from the battle. Because he was a King, and he had ordered him to. So why hadn't be ordered them all to back down before it got too late?

The realization that he had failed, that too many things had gone wrong, scared him to his bones. It was an unacceptable thought, especially for someone like Peter the magnificent, but right now, Peter wasn't feeling so brilliant, or clever, or particularly magnificent. He was feeling very, very stupid.

He mounted his horse, barely escaping as the Minotaur holding open their only exit was shot for the last time, and crumbled onto the floor. Peter looked back, an upset smile on his face as he watched the large hoards of Narnians trapped on the opposite side of the battle. The side that would inevitably kill them.

Peter locked eyes with a Centaur, who nodded respectfully towards him, his eyes wide and accepting. He turned and raised his sword towards their enemies and their arrows, chanting alongside the rest of the trapped Narnians that began to run. They ran into death.

'Peter!' The Narnians called back as the draw-bridge begun to rise. 'The Bridge!'

Peter turned away from the battle, the cries of pain coming from behind him. His horse umped the barrier between death, and survival. He didn't dare look up at his soldiers. He didn't want to reveal the shame that clouded his features.

...

like a swift, daunting shadow, wisps of light dancing in the air.

Catherine and Edmund soared across the courtyard, looking down to see the death that loomed beneath them. Catherine breathed in, deeply, a few tears of her new friends forming in he eyes. The silence was worse than the cries she had previously heard, a silence that stretched into nothing but a void-less, endless gaping feeling that buried into her chest. Her eyes slipped over the people she recognized, the previous shining and glittering of the sun disappearing into a cold and still eruption.

She regained herself, trying to let her thoughts clear the best she could, replaying the events that led up to almost half of their troops were wiped out in an awful, bloody battle that consumed them all, equally. As salty water seeped into a small cut that rested on her cheekbone, she realized that she had started to softly cry, hot tears burning down her face like fire.

They had fought for what they believed in, and did it proudly. They were proud to do one last thing, and surely, surely that was worth something. Her heart settled and her stomach stopped to churn, and a soft smile appeared on her face as she smiled at the thought. They were truly fighters.

Hope. What a foolish, stupid thing. They couldn't win this battle, not when they lost so many. People were getting hurt, a word that left such a heavy weight, as if the war wasn't going to get worse. As if lives weren't going to be lost.

But Catherine lived on hope, and she had to hold into it. Her thoughts returned to her and she grieved for the soldiers they had lost. She had to be strong, because her brother couldn't afford to be weak. Somebody had to win this war. For the Narnians. For the Narnians.

She clutched tighter onto Edmund and buried her face into his back, grateful for the comfort and warmth he managed to provide her.

Edmund gulped and turned away wordlessly, deciding that the silence was the best option.

They soared towards their brothers, pain evident on their faces. Edmund closed his eyes in pain and unconsciously leaned his head backwards to rest on Catherine's, who held him tighter to his chest, her arms shackled around his waist.

Sorry to end on an upsetting note, but it is what it is.

How is everyone's day? Mine's pretty good so far. Other than the fact I've released like six chapters in one, it's average .