Disclaimer: I merely came to a battle Lewis wrote and watched two particular characters. 'Tisn't mine.

Beta'd by the wonderful trustingHim17.


Aslan left them. He was gone the next morning. Gone. He'd left the two Princes, and He'd spoken with them about winning their thrones. But Aslan was gone.

Por left the side of the new pavilion that the Narnians had erected so those needing it could sleep. He'd been listening to the Princes, the Centaurs, and other Narnians plan the battle. But Por needed to find his brother.

He found him on the nearest hill, overlooking the way they had come. Leo was so still that Por shivered with unease. He could not read his brother.

"What do you look for?" the smaller Leopard asked quietly.

"For a sign that our hope was not false."

Por pushed himself against his brother; his brother who was always a little bit stronger, but who was breaking now. "Look to the flowers at your feet, my brother." He reached one paw and gently touched the bluebells, causing them to sway. "Look at the end of winter."

"He left," Leo cried, his deep voice breaking. "We waited all our lives, and He left."

Por paused. This, too, hurt him deeply. But—there was one thing, one thing many said of Aslan. "He is not a tame Lion."*

Leo sighed. He lowered his head to sniff the bluebells. I know.

Por shoved him. Then act like it.

Leo shoved him back, sniffing his head in pretend puzzlement. When did you get so wise?

Por shoved his brother away and patted Leo's head. When you lost all your immense, unstoppable wisdom, it had to go SOMEWHERE. He patted his own head.

Leo stopped play-wrestling and looked back to the camp. The Princes. Por stopped wrestling as well and stood beside his brother, both thinking of the other pair of brothers back in the camp.

We give our loyalty to Aslan's Princes, both agreed.

Throughout the morning, the two carried out every order their Princes gave, returning to the Sons of Adam as swiftly as possible. They carried messages, brought Dryads with food, looked for the Princes' missing sisters ("They must be with Aslan, Peter. He wouldn't leave them in danger"), and helped divide the army into groups. The Princes took their stand in a ravine between the Witch's house and the last place they'd seen the Witch, posting sentries at either end and in the trees.

The two brothers waited, waiting with the perfect patience of a predator. They were together, guarding the younger prince—he looked weaker, and would need more help in the coming battle.

They were thinking a thought they had thought once before. Once, long ago, when they were cubs. We fight the Witch's army. We might die doing so.

Now we know why it would be worth it.

For Aslan.

No sentries warned them. The Witch turned them to stone where they stood, and her army fell on the soldiers at the other side of the valley. Prince Peter at once called out commands, and the battle began. The Leopards bounded at the younger prince's side, Por sliding between a sword and the prince, batting it away, Leo ripping down a Dwarf who came at them with a raised axe.

The prince himself took the Satyr, thrusting it through. As his brother had a Wolf.

Por licked his side, then looked to Edmund. He is a Knight, like his brother.

Leo crouched and leaped over the Son of Adam, taking out an archer aiming for Edmund's head. He breathed out. He fights well, pausing to watch. They did not pause for long. The Prince headed right for the thickest part of the fighting. The place with the Witch.

Leo dodged as she turned her wand towards them, pushing Por aside as well. Up, up, jumping onto the head of a Minotaur, claw, ride it down! Por was already gone, dashing to the closest threat to the Prince. We fight for him.

An evil dryad. Leo broke off her branches with his teeth. We fight for Aslan.

Por slid under an axe swing, coming up behind with claws extended. We fight together. He paused, and his brother looked at him. Where is the Prince?

A shattering sound! Both Leopards looked; in that brief moment the Prince had run forward, bringing his sword down, not into the Witch, but on her wand. The battlefield around them froze.

He did it! They saw the blade swinging at him, his sword still extended towards the shattered wand.

Get him down! Both Leopards leaped, but too late—they could see the red staining his side. NO! Aslan, NO! They landed above him, snarling. Claws out, teeth bared, ripping, reaching, ducking—but not moving. They would not move. Not till they died or the battle was over.

She could not have him. Not their Prince. Not the Prince who shattered her wand.

"Where is she?" Por growled, panting. He snapped at the Hag reaching for him with her nails out.

"Gone towards the other end," Leo panted back, his back to his brother. He was wary, waiting for a Werewolf to pounce. It smiled, a slow, nasty smile, and bent its legs-

Only to freeze at a roar loud enough to shake all of Narnia from the Western lamppost to the shores of the Eastern Sea.** The Leopards looked up—the Werewolf looked up—the Hag looked up—every soldier on either side looked up as a golden Lion jumped forward onto a white figure, rolling together, but with white underneath.

It is Aslan! Aslan!

The hills streamed with figures, familiar ones, lost ones—soldiers Leo and Por never thought to see again—and the Werewolf and Hag shrieked and ran.

Aslan has returned!

He brings our victory!

The brothers crouched, began to jump—and checked themselves. Underneath them was still the Prince.

The King. Aslan, don't let him have fought, have won, have gained his throne, only to die!

Leo took in a breath. Easy. "Four thrones must be filled," he reminded Por. He nudged the prone, bleeding form. We guard him till then.

The Dryads came to take him, pulling him a little way back from the fighting line, and the two Leopards followed wearily. Leo limped from a cut on his front leg he had not felt during battle, and Por's back throbbed with stab wound. But they stayed, a little ways off, till they knew he would be better. They stayed through the healing of their King at the hands of their Queen, and through his Knighting.

Bandaged, Por nudged Leo. It is well. Leo looked up from where his eyes were fixed on Aslan, to the other Narnians being healed by the returned Queen, to the small bandage around his leg, to Por grinning beside him, and smiled.

It is well. Both looked towards Aslan. Together, they thought once again, Wrong now is right, for Aslan is in sight.***

It's over.

And there is Aslan.


*Said in various books throughout Lewis' series. Truly Aslan isn't.
**The last part was written by Lewis.
***Quoted from the rhyme in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Response to Anonymousme: I'm intending to make a list of all the Narnian creatures I've created-Robin, Dourfog, these two, Ren and her cubs, etc...but finding time to do so seems rather impossible until after the holidays. :) But that does mean that yes, they'll probably show up again! I'm glad you liked the story. And I'm very, very glad you're enjoying Kidnapped; it's been fun to write. The next update for that should be Tuesday, and yes, it should include a bit of Rena. :) Quite a bit. I am honestly too tired today to think about the Maugrim/Fenris dilemma. I had been planning on just not using Maugrim at all. That may change-you made very good points, very logically, and communicated them well-but I'm kind of staring at my computer in a daze today. I'm so glad you found books! I love finding books at secondhand or consignment shops. At least half my (admittedly extensive) library came from those stories, it's how I afford to have so many. Have a good week!