Title: I Shall Fear No Evil

by SpicyRoses

Disclaimer: Don't own any. Nada. Ziltch.

Rating: K-T

Summary: Sometimes, even kings can only stand by and watch, and have faith for faith can move mountains…even when it means watching your brother slowly die in front of you.

Author Notes: This is it folks. The revamped of I Shall Fear no Evil. I was going keep it discontinued, but then I got new ideas, and I thought….why ever not? I was even more pleased to find that I hadn’t deleted most of the chapters. The chapters are kept mostly as they were, but a little different, and I will post as soon as new chapters are completed.I would like to mention that several of the chapters have already been betaed by acacia59601. At the point of a certain chapter (can't remember which one yet) they've been betaed by her.

He said to them…For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, Move from here to there, and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you. – Mathew 17:20-21

Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.- Peter Tosh

[x]

Peter Pevensie blinked.

Where was everyone?

Where was he?!?

Everything around him was black, so black that he couldn’t even observe the fingers that he waved across his face. Getting up, he stretched, and began to wonder what had happened. It was so very quiet where he was, and he couldn’t see anything for miles. After pondering on what to do, Peter began walking northwards. He began to wonder where everyone was, and if this was how it would feel being dead. But then he remembered about Aslan’s country, and wondered if this land of blackness was just something he had to go through to get there.

Hours, or at least it seemed like hours to him, passed until something finally happened. A strange, smoke-like creature came towards him. Peter could still not tell where he was, for it was still pitch black; except for the yellow glow that surrounded the gliding smoke. An unpleasant aroma reached his nostrils, and it seemed to be coming from dead carcasses, but he could see none. The animal (if it was an animal), was quickly coming towards him.

“Who are you?” shouted Peter to the thing. It didn’t reply. It just kept moving with its unblinking eyes staring at him. Within a few minutes, the High King realized what it really was.

In his monstrous form, Tash floated in the air like smoke, and did not make a single sound as he moved. All the while, Tash’s gold eyes pierced Peter’s own as it floated towards him ever so slowly. The creature’s body seemed to expand as it came closer, and Peter took a step back as he grabbed for his sword. It wasn’t there.

Upon realizing this, he figured that he had to run for it. At that moment, Tash opened his beak, and a low, croaking sound came out of it. The sound broke the eerie silence as he fled-dashing here and there in the gloom. He tripped over something, but he was off again in a flash. Tash was right behind him, and Peter could feel its hideous breath on his neck. The king ran on.

Suddenly, without any warning, Peter fell. He couldn’t tell where he was dropping to, but when he did, he landed with a big, “Oof!” The High King managed to fall facedown on hard ground.

“Majesty?” asked a terrified voice.

After a few seconds, he looked up. He couldn’t see anyone.

“Majesty, you are needed!” said the voice again

He rubbed his eyes, and was soon able to observe a faint glowing that belonged to a candle. Oh, bother it all, would he have to get up? His ankle was bound to be swollen. Although he tried to block out the voice that was urgently asking him to awake, Peter kept wondering where Tash was.

Had the monster gone? Perhaps he-

Peter couldn’t finish his thoughts as he was roughly shaken by the shoulders. He didn’t want to get up. He wanted to just lie on the ground, and to continue to sleep. Running had exhausted him, and his eyelids were unbearably heavy.

“Peter, for the love of Aslan, GET UP!” shouted the familiar voice of a very annoyed Susan.

It took a while for Peter to sit in his king-sized bed, and to say goodbye to his dreamland. When he finally did come to, he was glad to realize that the whole thing with Tash had been a dream. And good riddance, for the whole thing had scared the living day lights out of him. Tash was not someone, or something, that anyone would want to come across in their lifetime.

His eyelids were still heavy as he managed to make out Susan’s form, as well as several others, who were standing about in his chamber. He was surprised by Susan’s state, as her hair was in a chaotic mess. Peter also noticed that she was only wearing a nightgown, as well as and a red robe thrown that she thrown on.

“Su?” he asked, groggily, “whatever is the matter?”

“You’ve got to come to the throne room. Edmund’s in a bit of a muddle,” Susan informed him in a voice that seemed to be on the verge of tears. Frowning, Peter quickly got dressed with the help of his gentlemen-in-waiting, and then met Susan, who had been waiting in the hallway for him. With a few knights following them, the Narnian monarchs made their way to the throne room.

The castle seemed so quiet; just like his dream had been. The servants and courtiers were no doubt either sleeping, or working terribly silently that night. Finally, Peter couldn’t bear it any longer as they stepped down a flight of stairs, and so he began to demand answers from Susan.

“What has happened that I need to be woken up for?”

“You were right,” muttered Susan under her breath.

“Right about what?”

“Them.”

Peter was about to ask Susan who she meant by ‘Them,’ but just then the great doors opened to the throne room, and he stopped still-stunned by what he saw. In the middle of the room, facing him, were several visitors that had come just days before at Cair. They were all standing. Everyone that is, except for a dead man on the floor, who was covered in a pool of blood.

The scarlet-colored blood had oozed about the stone floor, making an awful sight to behold.

The thing that had shocked him the most, however, was Edmund. Standing rigidly in front of the dead man, Edmund, who held his face high, was covered in bruises. His Narnian tunic was stained with the corpse’s blood. Finally, Peter’s eyes rested on his brother’s hands. What he saw had him cry out in horrified rage.

Edmund’s hands were in chains.