Yes, well...I've ben desperately needing to write a Narnian Fanfic for some time now, and this little beauty popped into my head. I'm not entirely sure when I'll next update, but I'll try and make this my priority after November. Don't expect any updates before then, because I decided to be insane and do NaNoWriMo this year.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognise from the Chronicles of Narnia.

PROLOGUE:

Four crowns sat upon faded pillows of red velvet, intricately woven with delicate patterns. Two beavers carried them up the marble steps of a grand dais, where four thrones proudly stood in all their glory.

Four children stood in front of each throne, decked out in fine clothes. A creature half man, half goat, tottered up the steps in an emerald green scarf and took the smallest circlet of interwoven laurel leaves of the purest silver. Stepping up to the throne on the far left, he bowed low before a small girl of about nine, who was dressed in blue silk and a red velvet cloak, and placed the circlet gently on her head. She beamed up at him as a deep voice boomed "To the glistening Eastern Sea I give you Queen Lucy, the Valiant."

The faun then moved onto the throne on the far right and lifted a silver crown onto the brow of a small boy of about ten, decked out in a silver tunic and royal blue cloak. His serious brown eyes sparkled with happiness, and he seemed to have a weight lifted off his shoulders as the crown touched his head. "To the Great Western Wood, I give you King Edmund the Just."

The faun then moved onto the inner left throne, and lifted a shimmering golden circlet of interlinked daffodils to the raven hair of the most beautiful twelve year old ever known. Her soft violet eyes shone with joy, complimenting her sea blue dress and deep grey cloak. "To the Radiant Southern Sun, I give you Queen Susan the Gentle."

Then the faun moved onto the inner right throne with a large golden crown befitting a great king. He placed this crown reverently upon the brow of a young boy of only thirteen, but with great passion and grace in his electric blue eyes as he lifted his head. As he surveyed the hall of his cheering subjects, he rose out of the deep blue tunic in which he had been hiding and filled out his golden cloak. "And to the Clear Northern Sky, I give you High King Peter, The Magnificent."

The four new rulers stood strong and tall before their thrones before sitting, and looking out upon their people with all the grace and serenity a ruler should posses.

A new vision blurred into place. Three of the rulers, about six years older, were crowded round a large four poster bed with deep red hangings. A pale face stood out against a shock of black hair. It was the youngest King, and quite obviously he was dying.

The littlest Queen clutched at his hand imploringly, and the elder Queen sobbed into the High King's shoulder, even as tears streamed down his own face. The little Queen pulled back the bed covers, to reveal a shocking wound that slashed open the young King's chest, the bandages around it were sodden with vivid blood, and the young king's face was chalk white. With tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, the little Queen dribbled some scarlet liquid from a small glass bottle into the younger King's mouth. Minutes passed, and still nothing happened.

A wild look came onto the High King's face. He lurched forward and felt the younger King's neck for a pulse. Obviously unsuccessful, he collapsed to the floor sobbing, cradling the elder of the two Queens in his arms.

Outside the carnage of a recent battle littered the castle grounds. Bodies of strange creatures and heavy set men littered the grass, the green almost erased by blood.

"He died for us, his country." The youngest Queen gasped through her tears. "Oh, Ed..."

Alice shot bolt upright, coated in a thin sheen of sweat. She could hear her pulse racing in her ears as she peered exhaustedly around her bedroom. The dreams she'd woken from stood out sharply against the backdrop of sleep in her mind. She had never in her life had dreams that were so vivid before- she'd almost felt that if she'd reached out a hand she could have touched the marble columns of the hall, felt the drapes in the bedroom. Who on earth were those people? Where did they rule? When did they rule? And most importantly...why had that boy died? In the darkness of her room, a rich voice seemed to roll out of the shadows, filling her right to the core with love, status and might.

"Many trials await you, Daughter of Eve, trails only you can face. You have seen two visions, one is now and one is the future if you should fail your task. I call you, my daughter, to your destiny."

Immediately silence fell again, with it taking the presence and leaving Alice with a strange sense of loss. Shakily drawing a hand across her forehead, Alice rolled over onto her back and fell into a dreamless slumber, her mouth pressed into a grim line as she slept.