A/N: This is something I felt I had to write...Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Chronicles of Narnia

The Chronicles of Narnia:
Dynasty's End

"What we are is God's gift to us. What we become is our gift to God."
-Eleanor Powell-

Chapter One
London House

There was a house in London owned by a young man named Digory Kirke. Digory could not bring himself to sell the house, for it held memories too dear to him. The memories of his adventures in another world, and of his mother's recovery, and of his days spent with his next door neighbor, Polly. But, though Digory would not sell the house, he did rent it out in the summer while he spent those long, warm days in the country.

This particular summer, Digory had rented the house to a widow and her son. The widow, Mrs. Glenys Cooper, was a good friend of Polly's, and Digory could not turn down a good friend of Polly's. Glenys only wanted to make use of the house for one summer, while she and her son, Matthew Cooper, sorted things out in the wake of her husband's death. Digory had assured her that she could rent it for as long as she needed.

"Say thank you to Mr. Kirke, Matthew," Glenys told her son on the day they arrived as he helped her out of the handsome.

"Of course, Mum," Matthew replied, offering her his arm and leading her up the steps to the house's front door. Digory stood on the porch, his hands clasped before him, watching the young man and his mother. He stepped forward when the two reached him, pulling open the door for them to pass through. Matthew allowed his mother to go first before turning to Digory and inclining his head in a small nod.

"Thank you, Mr. Kirke," he said. Digory waited until the young man looked up at him again, then he proceeded to wink and let a secretive smile grace his features. Matthew stared at him for a moment before shaking his head and following his mother inside.

"I'll bring in the rest of your bags, shall I?" Digory called after them. Matthew relayed the message to his mother before asking her permission to explore the house.

"Just don't break anything," Glenys said.

"I shan't," Matthew replied before taking the stairs two at a time up to the second floor. He peered into each bedroom that he found, going through a mental checklist of likes and dislikes as he searched for the room he would choose to inhabit over the course of the summer.

Meanwhile, outside, Digory carried the bags containing what few belongings Glenys and Matthew had up the walk, musing on the small family that would be occupying his house during the summer months.

His mind dwelled mainly on the young man, on the sad brown eyes set in a face that could be considered strong and imposing, and wondering what could have happened to make a boy seem so prematurely old. At first, Digory had thought the cause was Mr. Cooper's death, a difficult event for anyone, particularly a boy who bordered on the edge of being a man; but Digory had also seen how deep the sadness went, and he had realized that there must be something more.

When he reached the house, Digory set the bags near the stairs and found Glenys bustling about in the kitchen, mumbling something about a long trip and the need for sustenance.

"Are there any tricks to this place?" she asked when she noticed Digory leaning against the doorway. Digory shook his head and she continued her work, leaving her landlord mildly amused, but the sight still did not drive away his concern.

"Is the boy all right?" he asked. Glenys stopped in her tracks, a pan clenched in her hand. She turned to Digory, her face unreadable.

"He's fine, not that it's your business," she said. "His father's death has just been hard on him, that's all."

"Of course," Digory said, nodding knowingly. "The loss of a parent is one of the greatest tragedies in a child's life."

"He's hardly a child, Mr. Kirke," Glenys replied, returning the pan to its cupboard.

"But, the point still stands." Glenys looked at Digory once again and found his face solemn, more solemn than she ever would have expected. From what Polly had told her, Digory was a light hearted soul, and Glenys had never expected to have such a serious conversation with him.

The moment was ended by the sound of pounding feet descending the front stairs, and Digory's face took on a jovial expression. Glenys decided she'd imagined it all, and, wiping her hands on her apron, pushed past Digory and out into the front hall just as Matthew reached the last step.

"I've found my room, Mum," he said, stepping down slowly to the floor and standing quite still by the luggage. "May I take my things up?"

"Yes, and mine as well," Glenys replied. "But no running this time, you hear?" Matthew nodded bent to pick up his suitcases, Glenys returned to the kitchen, while Digory surveyed the young man, an idea forming in his mind.

"Matthew?" Digory said, drawing the young man's attention. Matthew looked at him, clutching his suitcases at his sides.

"Yes, Sir?" he asked.

"I've a secret for you," Digory replied. "Come here." Matthew set down the bags and followed Digory through the house to a back window, looking out at a tall, imposing tree. "Do you see that tree?" Digory asked.

"Yes, Sir," Matthew said, nodding, wondering how anyone could not see that tree.

"It's a magical tree, Matthew," Digory explained. "It came from another world, and grew from a silver apple which had saved my mother's life."

"Right," Matthew scoffed, turning away from the window. "I'm a bit old for fairy tales, Mr. Kirke," he said, walking back through the halls to the stairs. Digory followed, waiting until Matthew had started up the stairs before speaking once more.

"Dig by the roots," he said. "Close to the trunk. See what you find, then tell me if you're too old for fairy tales or not."

Matthew didn't respond but merely continued his way up the stairs. Digory watched him go, wondering if he would follow the cryptic instructions or not. Either way, he smiled at the thought that perhaps he had found a way to bring a smile back to Matthew's face.

"Well," Glenys's voice came from behind Digory and he turned to face her. "Thank you very much, Mr. Kirke. You've no idea how much this means to us."

"It's my pleasure, Mrs. Cooper," Digory replied, moving to her side. "Any friend of Polly's is a friend of mine. Do you need any help before I leave, or have you found everything?"

"I think I've found everything," Glenys replied with a small smile. "Thank you anyway." Digory nodded and started towards the door, but Glenys quickly set a hand on his arm, pulling his attention back. "I wanted to apologize for earlier. You were only trying to help, I'd no right to react as I did."

Digory smiled. "That's quite all right," he said. "I understand. He is, after all, your son." And with that, Digory Kirke took leave of the family staying in his London house, musing as he traveled to his home in the country on what might occur there that summer.