"I just wanted to get my brother back, and now I have. I'm sorry, really I am, but we're leaving."

"But everyone's counting on you. The prophecy-"

"I don't care about the prophecy." Peter got up from the log he had been sitting on, grabbed his sword, and stormed away. Beaver stared at his retreating back sadly.

"I'm sure he'll come around dear," Mrs Beaver assured him, waddling over. "Of course he's a little intimidated right now, this is all new to him. But he's a good person, they all are, and good people like to help other people." She patted his shoulder. "Just leave him alone and don't worry." But looking over at Peter's silhouette over by the river, he wasn't sure that that was such good advice.

Neither, it seemed, did Lucy. "Hey Peter," she said cheerfully, bounding over to him. "Shouldn't you be practicing?"

"Practicing what?" he asked, glancing up at her from his place on the ground. She mimed swordplay, dancing around like a pirate. "Oh, that." He was quiet for a minute. Lucy abandoned her pretend fight and plopped down next to him. "Look Luce, "he began. She looked at him expectingly. "I know you like it here," he trailed off.

"No!" she gasped disbelievingly. "We can't leave!" She jumped to her feet. "What about Mr Tumnus?" Before Peter could answer her, she ran so! bbing back toward the tents.

"Lucy?" Peter heard Susan's voice, cutting througgh his fooggy head like a knife. He groaned, knowing how hard it was to calm down Lucy when she was upset. And knowing it was his fault she was upset in the first place.

He got up and started walking along the river. Alone, with only the sound of the water lapping over the banks, he had time to thing. About how he had promised his mom he'd keep everyone safe. About how Lucy had almost drowned and Edmund had almost been killed anyway. About how everyone kept saying they were supposed to save Narnia.

All that thinking was really giving him a headache. And he was completely exhauseted. Another great side effect of everything that had been going on. Too much stress and not enough sleep. Suddenly, he snapped forward with a strong sneeze, narrowly missing hitting his head on a tree, which then laughed at him. "HETCHOOO!!" So apparently, it was too much stress, not enough sleep, and too much time in subarctic temperatures. "Great," he muttered to himself. "Just great."

"What's great?"

Peter paused in his walking and turned around to find the source of the question. "Hey Ed."

Edmund caught up with him and Peter resumed his stroll.

"So what's up?"

Peter shrugged. "Nothing."

Edmund snorted. "Not according to Lucy."

"Is she alright?"

Edmund nodded. "She's fine. Susan calmed her down."

"Good," Peter replied, relieved.

"Yeah." They continued on in silence for a few minutes, then "Lucy says we're not staying to fight in the war. Is that true?" Peter nodded. "Why not?"

"I promised Mom I'd keep you safe," Peter replied. He noticed his voice becoming a bit hooarse and cleared his throat quietly, hoping his brother wouldn't notice. "and look at what a great job I've done so f-" Peter broke off, his nose prickling umcomfortably. But he fought thesensation, not wanting to appear weak in front of his brother. He gave a valient effort to continue his thought. "So far."

Edmund looked at him funny. "You alrighht?"

Peter nodded. "Just fih...fine."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "Just sneeze already."

Peter really didn't want to, buut the relentless itch was urging him to listen to Ed. "ATCHEWWW!!"

"Bless you."

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Thanks."

"What? I can be nice, "Edmund told him with a grin, easily reading his bro! ther's expression.

"Uh huh."

"Can we talk?" Edmund asked seriously, all traces of humor gone.

"Sure, you can talk to me about anything." They stopped walking and sat down on some mossy rocks.

"Why are we leaving? They need us."

"Because it's dangerous. You and the girls could get hurt."

"We could, but it's worth it. I've seen what the White witch can do, and I've helped her do it. We have to stop her."

"How can you be so calm abouut this?" Peter asked. "A whole world depending on us, our lives in danger. We'd be going-" he broke off, feeling an overwhelming urge to sneeze again. He tried to fight it, but it was to strong to stop. "HETCHOO!" He shook his head to clear it, and continued speaking. "Going to war. Mom sent us away to keep us out! of the war."

"I don't think this is what she had in mind. Besides, if we can make a real difference, isn't it worth the risk?"

"And when Lucy gets frozen? Or when Susan gets her head chopped off? What then? Is it worth it then?"

"Do you really think that would happen?"

"I don't know what will happen," Peter stood up. "Look, I don't want to discuss this this any further." And with that, he stormed off toward the campsite.

"Peter."

Peter stopped walking when the lion called his name from the cliff he was near. "Aslan."

"Come here." Knowing better then to disobey a large creature with the capacity to eat him, Peter approached the great cat. "I assume you are happy to have your brother back."

Peter nodded. "It's great knowing everyone's safe, at least for the moment."

"You like to have your family safe?"

"Very much."

Aslan gestured to the masses of people all around them. "Well so do I."

Peter followed his gaze, looking at everyone working hard to sharpen tools, practice archery, and a million other things besides. Then he saw Lucy and Susan splashing each other in the river, and his resolve came back. "They look so happy," he said quietly to himself. They saw him watching them, and waved happily. He waved back, though his smile was forced. He turned back to Aslan. "This is a lot to take in, you know?"

Aslan nodded. "I do."

"Peter," greeted a wet and giggling Lucy, running up to them. Susan was right behind her. "You're talking to Aslan. Does this mean you've changed your mind?"

Before he could reply, he felt eyes on the back of his neck. He turned around to see Edmund watching him intently. "You guys really want to do this?"

"YES!" They all yelled in unison.

Peter sighed. "This isn't going to be easy," he told them.

"Who said we thought it would be?" Edmund asked indignitely "We're going to be stabbing people while riding horses, some of which talk, and we'll be up against a witch who turns everything into ice. Plus you're sick."

"You're sick?" Lucy asked, sounding concerned. "Where does it hurt?

"I'm not sick," he told her. "It's just Ed's imagination." Susan and Lucy looked doubtful, so he gave them a charming smile, which was lost as he started coughing harshly. "I can't be sick," he said, frustrated. "I'm never si-" He quickly pivoted on the spot, facing away from his family. "ETCHOO! ATCHUUU!!"

Susan sighed, rolling her eyes. "We're in a land Lucy found in the wardrobe, standing next to a giant talking lion, and we met Santa Claus. Oh yeah,and our lives were recently saved by a beaver's secret passageway to his best friend's." She patted him on the back. "You getting a cold doesn't seem like the most unlogical thing that's happened recently."

"So why are we putting our lives in danger for a talking lion and his friends?"

Susan shrugged, looking over her shoulder at everyone hard at work in the campsite. "Who needs logic?"