(A/N: I wrote this chapter listening to "Chain Breaker" by Zach Williams, if anyone would like to follow suit. :) )

When I regained consciousness, it was noon outside. I had been unconscious for hours; she must have conked me hard. Edmund was gone. Tumnus was gone. And I was in Edmund's place.

The rusty chains that had held him now held me. The heavy shackles dug into my wrists and ankles, turning my fingers blue and making my feet feel numb. Despite the sunlight piercing the clouds outside, I shivered uncontrollably.

"She took my coat!" I exclaimed angrily. I instantly regretted my outburst. My head pounded from where she had struck me. I lifted my hand, with no small effort, and gingerly fingered the bump on my forehead. Panic seized me. My beanie was gone too! I gritted my teeth in pain and determination, fighting tears over the loss of my beloved beanie. I had to get out of here.

I first tested my range of motion. I could go no farther than a few feet in any direction. Too far out of reach of anything sharp enough to come remotely close to breaking the thick chains. I kicked the place where the chains hung on the wall as hard as I could. The ice didn't even crack. I tried again and again, kicking in different places and trying various methods of gaining force and momentum. Nothing worked.

I lay on my back, heaving for breath. I had to try something else. I examined the chains closely, but I didn't discover anything new. So I began to strain. I planted my feet against the wall and pulled my hands apart and away from the wall. I engaged my core and back and legs and pulled. I let it slack and yanked on them a few times. Then I began to pull again. Then I tried yanking again. All I accomplished after what seemed like eternity but was likely just a few hours was scraping up my wrists and exhausting myself.

"Oh, you idiot!" I chided myself. Hey, no one was around, so I was perfectly okay with talking to myself. It was somewhat comforting to hear something other than the rattling of chains against ice. "You could always run away with your hands still bound. Loosen the chains around your ankles!"

I stood to my feet, my legs wobbly from the effort. I stumbled forward slightly and almost fell flat on my face. I managed to catch myself, and I put my right foot forward, wiggling my ankle back and forth rapidly. When that accomplished nothing, I thrust my foot forward violently, much like I had done with my wrists. I lost my balance and landed square on my rear end. Pain licked up my back and sucked the air out of me. I saw stars.

When the pain passed, some minutes later, I stood up and tried again, stopping myself before I fell. A new idea dawned upon me then. Walking back to the wall, I sprinted forward, jumping when I reached my limits. No avail. I landed awkwardly on the ice, my arms getting caught beneath my torso and the right side of my head hitting the ice.

"At least I'll have matching bumps," I said, trying to make myself laugh despite the pain. It didn't work. I crawled pathetically back to the wall and cradled my head in my hands. I was drained. I was tired. I was hurting. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. I lapsed into a long, light sleep.

When I awoke the next day, my nose was stuffy and my throat burned. But I tried again to loosen the chains by kicking, pulling, yanking, straining, tugging... you name it, I tried it. I would go at it for an hour, then rest for a while, then try again. The skin around the shackles began to crack and tear, but it wasn't until I began to see my own blood pool on the ground that I stopped fighting and sat back against the wall. I felt weak. I felt defeated. I decided I could try to take a nap and get back to it. Work smarter, not harder, right?

🦁

I didn't awaken until it was dark outside. I was gripped by a sudden, despairing panic. I felt sweat break out on my forehead as a sense of fear overtook me. I trembled.

🦁

I awoke with a jolt when I heard a loud sound, like thunder from a distance. I was unaware I had even fallen asleep! I yelped and jumped. My shackles clattered to the ground. In utter amazement, I saw that I was completely free from my chains. I stood up shakily. My knees immediately buckled, and I saw stars, but I was free.

Next time I tried to stand up, I was stable. I retraced my steps to the base of the stairs leading to the dungeon. Food. I needed food.

I searched room after room, but found nothing. Wait, hadn't Edmund mentioned something about Turkish Delight? My stomach cramped painfully at the thought. I had an incurable sweet tooth, so Turkish Delight sounded lovely. There was one more room at the end of the long hallway, so I entered it hopefully. There was no food, but armor. To my shock, I saw Narnian armor in the corner of the room: mail with a red covering bearing a golden lion.

I remembered everything from the Beavers at once, and hurried over to the armor. If Peter was truly fighting a battle, I could help. I put it on, and, miraculously, it was just my size. I felt warmer - and stronger - already.

Suddenly, I heard the doors creak open. I should have been terrified and hidden from what was probably the Witch... but I didn't. I ran as quickly as I could toward the entrance, despite my weak and weary limbs.

I saw a lion first, breathing on one of the stone statues. I watched in wonder as the the grey stone melted away to reveal a living minotaur. The lion turned its mighty head toward me, and I smiled.

"Aslan?" Without waiting for an answer, I sprinted towards him. I threw my arms around him and nuzzled into his mane. He chuckled, and I gripped him tighter and tighter. "This isn't another dream, is it?"

​​​​"No, dear one," he said. I reluctantly pulled away to stare into his face. He smiled at me... if lions could smile. "You have come far. And you have farther to go still. But you are free. In the meantime, I think there are two girls who would love to see you-" Before he even finished his sentence, I heard my name.

"Ruth? Ruth! Ruth, it's you!" Susan and Lucy dashed toward me. I beamed and threw my arms wide for both of them. We embraced tightly for several seconds, all crying. I broke away.

"Where's Edmund?" I asked worriedly.

"He's alright!" Lucy exclaimed. "He was rescued in the forest. The White Witch was going to kill him, but Aslan took his place."

My jaw dropped. Before I could say a word, Susan stared at my face. "Oh Ruth, what happened?"

"Wha- oh." I remembered how dreadful I must have looked. Bumps and bruises on my head, dry and cracked lips, eyes swollen from crying, rubbed and raw skin on my wrists and ankles. My hair was tangled and hung matted down my back. "I must look awful."

"What happened?" Susan asked again, taking a closer look at my face.

I shied away. "It's alright... I don't really want to talk about it."

"Where did you get the armor?" Lucy asked, taking my hand gently and leading me through the halls when she saw me begin to get a little unsteady on my feet. Susan followed at my other side, ready to catch me if I collapsed from exhaustion.

"It was in one of the Witch's rooms... almost like it had been placed there for me."

"You aren't far off, Ruth," Aslan said, coming around through a group of beasts coming back to life. "I sent a friend of mine in there a few days ago, while the Witch was out in her carriage."

"You knew this would happen?" Susan asked.

"Ruth has a prophecy of her own, Susan. She was reluctant to share it, according to Beaver." I reddened slightly. "I thought that her path could lead here, so I decided proper precautions could be helpful."

"Aslan! The troops are ready-" Tumnus stuck his head around the corner. "Ruth?"

I ran towards him for an embrace. "You're alive!"

"So are you!" He looked at me with serious eyes, gently touching the side of my face. "She hit you so hard... and you weren't moving. I feared the worst."

"I'm fine. What happened to you?"

"Eh, turned to stone." I gasped, tears springing to my eyes, my hand flying to my mouth in horror. He extracted a piece of cloth from his pocket and offered it to me, a teasing twinkle in his eye. I recognized the handkerchief immediately and managed a small smile. "Hey, hey, it's alright. Don't cry. We've got a battle to get to!""

"Tumnus is right," Aslan announced. "Ruth, are you feeling well enough to fight?"

"Yes, but I have no weapon."

Aslan nodded towards my leg. I looked down sheepishly. Surely enough, there was a sheathed sword. I drew it out slowly and gaped at it in awe. I slashed it carefully back and forth a couple times.

"I feel so uncoordinated," I whispered.

"I'm sure you will learn quickly, Ruth," Aslan said confidently. He lowered himself to his haunches. "Now, I do believe it's time for us to get going."

The girls and I climbed onto his majestic back, me nearest his head, Lucy behind me, and Susan behind Lucy.

"Rest, Ruth," Susan said. "Lay your head against Aslan's mane."

"Great idea, Susan," Aslan said, "But you will all want to cover your ears first."

We obeyed immediately, and the tremendous lion roared deafeningly. I closed my eyes and nuzzled my aching head into his mane, my apprehensions concerning what lay ahead giving way to contented exhaustion.