The Faded Portrait of a Bygone Era

The Hour of Doom

A/N: I rewrote the tail end of the last part because @mywinterivy​ on Tumblr sent me an ask that got the creative gears turning, and I was like "Hm, this is better." I didn't change too much, just the very end.

TL;DR: I edited things, and Margaret's body got left at the Telmarine castle rather than being recovered by the Narnians.

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The remaining Narnian troops made their way back to the How in a somber, slow procession. Several of the soldiers limped or held their sides as they walked, their injuries taking a toll.

At the entrance of the How, the youngest Queen stood waiting.

"What happened?" she asked, taking in the sight of their numbers. She already knew part of the answer, and intentionally avoided looking for the red cloak which she knew she would not find.

"Ask him," Peter replied shortly, moving to head past her into the How.

"Peter," Susan warned.

But Caspian would not let that slight go unchallenged.

At long last, the silence of the journey was broken as all of the grief and anguish from the two young men who had most felt the loss of the Resilient Queen came pouring forth, disguised as anger and hatred.

"Me?" Caspian asked in disbelief, slowing in his pace. "You could have called it off, there was still time."

"No there wasn't, thanks to you!" Peter snapped back. "If you'd kept to the plan, those soldiers might still be alive. She might still be alive." His voice broke with grief.

Caspian's recoiled, the mention of Margaret striking a nerve.

"And if you'd just stayed here like I suggested, they definitely would be! She definitely would be!"

"You called us, remember?" Peter said.

"My first mistake," Caspian said. "I would rather that she lived, even if it meant I never met her."

Now they weren't merely fighting over who was at fault for the attack going awry. It was clear. Everyone could sense it.

They were fighting over whose fault it was that she died.

"No," Peter said, "Your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people."

"Hey!" Caspian shouted.

Peter whirled to face him, seemingly startled by the outburst, but ready for a fight.

"She believed in me! She was the reason I believed in myself. From the stories she told me of you, she thought so highly of you. I thought you would be different. But you are not the King I thought you were. You are not the King she thought you were! And I am not the one who abandoned Narnia."

Peter swiftly moved closer, his eyes ablaze.

"You invaded Narnia," he spat, the mention of his sister setting a fire alight in his chest. "You have no more right to lead it than Miraz does!"

Caspian shoved past him, towards the How, unwilling to hear any more.

But Peter did not stop.

"You, him, your father! Narnia's better off without the lot of you! And she would still be here without your kind!"

With a cry of rage, Caspian drew his sword, and Peter did too. The blades met with a great clash of metal, but before things could escalate, Edmund put an end to it.