Song Fic based on the Easter song "Roll Away the Stone" and set around the Battle of Beruna.

They have been saying all our plans are empty.
They have been saying "Where is their God now?"

Lucy clamped her hands over Susan's, trying not to shout out. She hated the jeering. If they had to kill Aslan, couldn't they have at least done so peacefully? Instead, they taunted him relentlessly. And the words rang in her ears. It was almost as though they were taunting her. Where's your Great Cat now? She felt so lost and afraid without him. The taunts were ringing in her heart as the evil creatures mocked Aslan's death. As they mocked her brothers' pitiful chances. As much as she wanted to believe in her brothers and the Narnian army, she couldn't help feeling like each and every plan they had made was empty. The tiniest sliver of her heart was still set on Aslan still coming roaring back to save them all. But as desperate as she was to hold on to that hope, she couldn't help feeling that such a hope was empty.

They have been saying no one will remember.
They have been saying Power rules the world.

Edmund was careful to steer Peter away any chance he might accidentally overhear what much of the army was saying. He really didn't need anything more to erode his thin confidence in himself. But ever since the news that Aslan had died had spread, there were murmurings. Murmurings that they were all fighting in vain. That they would be struck down, soon to be no more than long-forgotten stories. Edmund felt a cold shiver every time he heard such mutterings. He couldn't help agreeing. He had seen the White Witch in action. She…she was Power. A terrible, horrid, inexorable power. And without Aslan,…she ruled the world. The cold, soulless world.

They have been saying no one hears the singing.
They have been saying all our strength is gone.

As Mr. Beaver saw the fight unfold, his mind wandered to the Creation of Narnia. Aslan sang the world into being, or so they said. If only a song were to bring him back now. But who could hear singing on a battlefield over the sounds of death and despair? Those were all the sounds he could hear as the Witch's forces came in throngs, endless lines of soldiers, lines that would continue no matter how many they managed to kill. Lines of soldiers that would come at them until all their strength was gone.

They have been saying "All of us are dying."
They have been saying "All of us are dead."

Facing the Witch was the ultimate test for Peter. He already hardly had the strength to go on. All around him was death. It began with Aslan himself dying. Now Peter was afraid that it would end with him dying. He had never been a King. Never even a Knight. How could he lead when hope itself, Aslan, was gone? As were more than half of his troops. His general, Oreius, turned to stone. Griffins, turned to stone and dashed to pieces. And Edmund…His dear, brave, naïve little brother. Dying on the side of the battlefield because of his own reckless courage and tenacity. And now he too was dying. The Witch was clearly an expert. And he? A young boy from England who had never so much as held a real sword before now. What chance did he have? He was dying. Just one well placed blow away from death.

Roll away the stone, see the Glory of God. Roll away the stone

The Stone Table cracked, and all hope was restored as Aslan came roaring back. Lucy truly felt like a Queen for the first time, flying across Narnia on Aslan's back. Aslan was every bit as great as she remembered. With the true King over all Kings of Narnia restored, nothing could stop them.

On the battlefield, the Witch slashed at Peter again. He was about to give in. There was nothing left now. At least Susan and Lucy might escape back home safely. But then he heard the most glorious roar he had even heard. In that awful moment on the brink of his death, both the White Witch and Peter felt compelled to look for the source of the great roar. There, on the cliff, stood Aslan, proud and triumphant. How? Peter didn't know. He didn't care. All he knew was he was seeing the Glory of Aslan and soon all would be right.

One drop was all that was needed to restore Edmund. After seeing his family huddled around him, Edmund looked for Aslan. And there he was. Alive and strong. Power had lost. Today would instead be remembered as the day Aslan conquered Death for all time.