This is my first Narnia story, brought on by watching my new Prince Caspian DVD far too many times, on top of now owning the PS3 game for it. It follows the movie, naturally with my own twists and storylines, and will possibly go further, or into a sequel if responses are good.

I hope you enjoy, I look forward to hearing you comments and opinions.

I: The Witch of Aslan's How.

It was dark at the Dancing Lawn by the time the meeting took place. The Narnians were in an uproar over some Telmarine that had been allowed to live this far. Why? None of them were sure, and it caused even more frustration amongst them.

But she knew. She always knew. She knew from the moment the horn had come into his possession that the tides were shifting.

If only it were that simple for the rest of them.

"All this horn proves is that they've stolen yet another thing from us!" Nikabrik yelled, causing the crowd to echo their agreement.

"I didn't steal anything," the one called Caspian protested.

"Didn't steal anything?" one of the Minotaurs roared. "Shall we list the things the Telmarines have taken?"

He didn't need to; the Narnians around him spoke up.

"Our homes!"

"Our freedom!"

"Our lives!"

"You would hold me accountable for all the crimes of my people?" Caspian frowned.

"Accountable…and punishable!"

"That's words from you, dwarf!" the mouse, Reepicheep, spoke up. "Or have you forgotten that it was your people who fought alongside the White Witch?"

"And I'd gladly do it again if it would rid us of these barbarians!"

"I'll consider us all lucky it isn't within your power to bring her back," a feminine voice said—the first one Caspian had heard since he'd encountered the Narnians. He looked up to find the source standing on a tree branch, leaning against the trunk.

She was dressed almost entirely in black, from her knee-length laced boots and tattered thigh-length skirt, to her velvet corset worn over a white blouse, and finally her long black cloak. He would've called her a Telmarine Hunter or Scavenger were it not for the girl's fair skin and strawberry blonde hair.

"Besides," she continued, lightly fingering the hilt of a cleverly hidden Falchion beneath her cloak. Her gaze shifted from Caspian to the Narnians. "I'd like to see how this plays through. I have heard the whispers and read the tales…Narnia was never right except when a son of Adam was King."

"He's a Telmarine!"

"What does that matter? Neither Caspian nor I are cut from the same cloth as the Kings and Queens of old, but you treat me as an equal—as a Narnian."

"That's…different," Nikabrik growls, eyes narrowed. "Why would we want him as our King?"

"Because I can help you," Caspian responded. "Beyond these woods, I am a prince. The Telmarine throne is rightfully mine. Help me claim it, and I can bring peace between us."

The redhead smiled at Caspian, before turning to grin to Nikabrik as if to say 'I told you so'. The Dwarf merely grumbled, still doubtful. Swiftly, she leapt down, landing on her feet with nimble grace.

"I'm confident that he speaks the truth," she declared, looking to a tall and well-built Centaur. "Tell me, Glenstorm, are the stars not aligned for it? I know they are yours to watch, as certain things are mine to know."

"She is correct," Glenstorm rumbled. "Tarva, the Lord of Victory, and Alambil, the Lady of Peace have met, and here a son of Adam has come forth to offer us back our freedom."

This caused another uproar, smaller in volume this time, filled with whispers of hope and doubt. Is it possible? Does he really think there can be peace? Does he? Really?

"Two days ago, I didn't believe in the existence of talking animals, or Dwarves, or Centaurs. Yet, here you are…in strength and in numbers we Telmarine could never have imagined," he brought up the horn for them to see. "Whether this horn is magic or not, it brought us together. And together, we have a chance to take back what is ours."

The redhead giggled softly, opening her arms to the crowd. "Well, Narnians, what do you say?"

"If you will lead us, then my sons and I offer you our swords!" Glenstorm declared, the Centaurs joining him with their cries.

"And we offer you our lives…unreservedly," Reepicheep bowed.

"On that note, we best get moving, right Caspian?" she turned, smiling at him.

"Uh…yes, absolutely. Miraz' army won't be far behind, and if we are to be ready for them, we must hurry to find soldiers and weapons."

Swiftly, the large group moved out, led by Caspian and Trufflehunter. It was a moment more before the redhead was at his side, and he did his best not to look alarmed, for he hadn't heard her.

"I'm afraid I haven't introduced myself yet," she chuckled, offering him her hand. "Rynne. Rynne Kairos."

"Caspian the Tenth, thanks for the vote of confidence back there," he smiled, shaking her hand. He gasped when little colorful shocks passed from her hand to his, and he frowned. She erupted in a fit of mischievous giggles.

"You'll have to excuse Rynne, she's a bit of a handful," Trufflehunter said warmly.

"Am not!"

"Likes to use her magic to trick people when she needn't be serious."

"Magic?" Caspian frowned, eyeing her as the stories of old filled his brain. "You're…you're a…"

She suddenly looked quite flustered. "A Witch? Uh, yes…yes I am."

"But aren't they supposed to be—"

"A myth?" Rynne suggested, quite aware that wasn't what he had been about to say. Evil, perhaps? Why yes, she was, but I'm trying to change that, thank you. "Caspian, I don't believe you can count the amount of creatures you met tonight that are supposed to be a myth."

"I suppose you're right," he chuckled, and matching one another stride for stride, they talked of many things. Treading lightly, they made it out of the forest and into a beautiful clearing in no time.

They walked a path of stones that stretched out from the forest, all leading up to a large stone structure. Caspian stared in awe. It was simple, built with several layers of crudely carved rock slabs, but he could sense the magic that enveloped it.

He could sense what a treasure this place was.

"What is this place?" he inquired breathlessly.

"Aslan's How," Rynne replied softly. "If you've read the stories of old like you say, then you'll know what the Hill of the Stone Table is, yes?"

"The place where the Witch—" he noticed how she cringed slightly here "—supposedly killed Aslan before her followers."

"Correct," Rynne nodded, ignoring the annoyed growl from Nikabrik behind her. "After Aslan rose again, it is said the Stone Table became a Sacred Place, highly respected by the Kings and Queens. Once they disappeared from Narnia and the Telmarine invaded, the Narnians wished to protect the Stone Table fragments from harm and desecration, so they built this mound to conceal it."

"You mean the Stone Table is within this fortress?" Caspian breathed, staring with wide eyes at the structure.

Nodding, Rynne continued. "It is a safe place to shelter. And if we are to ready ourselves for a territorial battle against your Uncle, this is a sturdy enough base."

"Thank you. For believing in me…and for supporting me."

"I believe in you, because I know you are what is right for Narnia, Caspian," she told him as the troops (if they could be called that at this point) stopped before the fortress.

"You told the Centaur—Glenstorm I believe?–that certain things were yours to know," Caspian pondered aloud. "You hold knowledge far beyond your age, don't you? Witch or not."

Her mischievous smile was all he needed for an answer; before she flitted away, disappearing inside Aslan's How. Trufflehunter shuffled up beside him.

"Trufflehunter…," Caspian began, still staring at the path the girl had taken. "Aren't witches supposed to be…well…evil?"

"Oh," the badger chuckled, making a passive motion with one of his paws. "That's all Jadis' fault. After the White Witch's reign in Narnia, Witches unfortunately bore the brand of evil, whether they were or not. And with so many Hags, it's no wonder."

"After Jadis fell and the four Kings and Queens began the Golden Age of Narnia, it wasn't uncommon for Witches to be hunted by superstitious Narnians. The Kings and Queens didn't approve, so none of it happened publicly, and it worsened when they left, until the Witches either vanished or were hunted to nothing."

"So how…"

"About three hundred years ago, in the Narnian year 2000, it is said that they appeared again. No one is sure how, or from where, but the magic rose again. Some believe it is a solitary line of witches that hid away for years, holding power over some of the Deepest Magic."

"And Rynne is a part of this line?"

"I think she's the last," Trufflehunter stated sadly. "I've known Rynne her whole life, since I found her as a little girl wandering the woods. I took her in, raised her with some of the others, and I've never met, nor has she ever mentioned any family."

Caspian looked up then, seeing her in the doorway to the fortress, kneeling down to talk to Reepicheep. She looked quite at home, a part of this place, this beautiful world. He realized then that they were quite alike—no family, holding on to the hope of making this world better.