Note from the author.

I do not own C.S. Lewis's characters or idea's. However, there are many original characters in this story. I hope you enjoy them. Please Review.

Charlotte stretched as she awoke to static on the television. Looking to the glowing numbers on the digital clock, she groaned realizing it was 3:00 AM. In her opinion anytime before 9:00 AM was an unholy hour to be awake. The dark haired girl exhaled climbing off the couch and walking into the kitchen. As she opened up the refrigerator, the glowing light filled the room. She stared inside as if expecting something to grow. Finally, pouring herself a glass of tea she leaned on the island counter and drank it. Her stare fixed on nothing in particular she took a deep breath. She'd been plagued with strange dreams for the past few weeks and she just couldn't shake them. They seemed so real. It was silly to let them bother her so much. They were just fairytales. Turning Charlotte put her empty glass in the sink.

"Dreams?" her mother's voice came softly from behind her startling her slightly.

"Yea," she nodded turning to face her mother. Charlotte smiled as she looked at her mother. Even in sweatpants, she seemed regal. She always carried herself with an air of confidence that no one else could match.

"Same one?" her mother questioned stepping closer.

"Yes," she nodded. Charlotte hadn't told her mother much about the dreams she'd been having. All her mother knew was that the dreams were reoccurring and that they were causing her to wake up in the middle of the night. Her mother nodded not wanting to pry. However, her eyes seemed to search for more. "I'm going to try and get some more sleep," she spoke softly.

"Alright dear," she kissed her on the forehead "Don't forget, your Uncle is going to visit tomorrow," Charlotte nodded as she disappeared up the stairs. Susan looked after her daughter concerned.

Charlotte walked home from school slowly a jewel toned teal umbrella on her shoulder. A light rain trickled as she walked leaving droplets now and then on her dark curls. She stared at the sidewalk deep in thought. Since she was a child, her mother had told her stories. These mere fairytales seemed to have infected her dreams and she couldn't figure out why. Exhaling she leaned her head back. Perhaps she was losing her mind. A loud noise came from the bushes in a nearby yard and she jumped doing a double take. She could have sworn she saw something, but now as she focused her eyes, nothing was there. She stared for a moment before she hurried home walking down the street at a quickened pace.

She threw the front door of her home open shutting it firmly behind her as if trying to tell something to stay away. She looked at the door as if it was going to open suddenly.

"Charlotte, I don't think the door is going to attack you," a male's voice came from behind her. She turned around and smiled warmly.

"Uncle Peter," she grinned and let out a laugh.

"Hey there love" he smiled holding his arms open for a hug. She sat her umbrella down and walked over to him hugging him tightly.

"I've missed you" she spoke as she pulled back.

"I've missed you too," he smiled at her. "You've grown," he nodded as if affirming it to himself. "You look so much like your mother," he added with a warm look of nostalgia. Peter exhaled and shook himself a little. The smile returned to his face and it was as if he'd drifted somewhere else for a moment. "So, how old are you now 13," he spoke with a smirk.

"I'm 18 Uncle Peter and you very well know that," she folded her arms "I'm just short" she made a face. He laughed deeply his hand on his stomach.

"I know," he chuckled "I know," he smiled. Charlotte shook her head laughing as she removed her coat and hung it up in the closet. Peter walked into the kitchen taking a seat at one of the stools at the island counter. Apparently, he'd been sitting there when he heard her come in, because there on the counter sat a sandwich and a glass of milk. He returned to his food looking up at her as she walked in as well.

"Uncle Peter," she began softly leaning on the counter. She seemed reluctant to talk about it and changed her mind halfway through her thought. "Where's my Mum?"

"Susan," he spoke after he finished chewing "She ran down to the store," he explained taking a drink of his milk.

"Oh," she nodded biting at her lip softly looking down at the counter top.

"But that isn't what you wanted to talk about is it?" he spoke knowingly leaning on the counter looking at her with wise eyes.

"No," she admitted looking him in the eye. "It isn't" she shook her head.

"Care to tell me what's really on your mind?" he questioned turning his attention completely to her sensing that this was important.

"Well," she began softly "Do you remember the stories that you, Mum and Uncle Ed and Aunt Lu always told me when I was little?"

"Of course I do" he nodded.

"Well, I've," she stopped and took a breath "I've been having a lot of dreams about them lately," she explained. "Dreams that I can't quite shake"

"And this is a problem, because?" he questioned not sure why this was bothering her. As a child, she'd loved the stories they'd told her about Narnia. Although she had no idea that they were true, still she'd enjoyed them.

"The dreams aren't exactly like the stories," she spoke not sure how to explain.

"What do you mean?" he prodded trying to get it out of her.

"The dreams are so real," she shook her head at a loss "It's almost like the dreams are trying to communicate with me," she made a face "It's strange," she added.

"Communicate with you?" he seemed interested. She was a bit surprised he was taking her so seriously.

"Yes, like their trying to tell me something," she nodded encouraged by his interest.

"What do you think the dreams are trying to tell you," he questioned leaning his arms folded on the counter.

"Like, someone needs my help," she spoke as if she didn't even believe it herself.

"Who?"

"I don't know" she shook her head. "Aslan, the lion from the stories you guys used to tell me. He's always there," she explained.

Peter nodded deep in thought. It was not his place to tell her the truth about Narnia. Susan would never forgive him. "It's crazy though, I mean Narnia isn't real," she exhaled sitting down on a stool disappointed. Something made her feel like he would have answers and now that he didn't she wasn't sure where to turn.

"Anything is possible," was all Peter said as they heard the front door open as Charlotte's mother returned. Susan walked into the kitchen with several bags and sat them on the counter smiling at them.

"Hey you two," she began putting groceries away "What have you two been talking about?" she questioned curiously.

"Nothing" Charlotte exhaled getting up and disappearing up the stairs to her room. Susan looked after her daughter concerned and turned her eyes on her brother curiously. Peter looked at Susan as if he had no idea and shrugged as he finished his sandwich. Just as it wasn't his place to tell Charlotte about Narnia, it wasn't his place to tell Susan what Charlotte told him in confidence. Shaking her head Susan returned to the groceries an apprehensive look on her face.

Charlotte fell back onto her bed lying sideways as she stared at the ceiling. Her walls bore posters of her favorite bands and actors. Pictures of her friends framed her vanity mirror. On the back of her closet door hung a bow and quiver her mother had taught her to shoot with. The color scheme of her room was red and gold and her bed was a large four-poster. Honestly, it was neat and rather organized for a teenager's room. Charlotte exhaled and shook her head.

"What am I going to do?" she spoke softly wishing she had an answer. She laid there silent for several minutes deep in thought. "I'm not going to do anything," she answered her own question. Getting off her bed, she began to change out of her school uniform and into jeans. She left her button up blouse on and sat down at her vanity. Running her fingers over her hairbrush, she slowly picked it up and ran it through her thick dark locks. Staring into her mirror she suddenly jumped up dropping the brush to the floor. Charlotte stood a look of shock on her face her hands at her sides. She could have sworn she'd seen a face, a man's face! Blinking she backed up looking around unsure. For a moment, she wondered if she really was going crazy. Slowly she stepped closer to the mirror leaning over her vanity. Her face nearly touched it and her head tilted to the side as she stared.

"Are you alright cupcake?" her father questioned looking into her room as he passed by. She withdrew from the mirror looking to him a bit flustered.

"Um, nothing….just a pimple…yes that's right…a pimple," she nodded knowing well he wouldn't prod any further. He tried to avoid those topics that might lead to teenage girl drama.

"Oh, yes, well how was school today?" he questioned changing the subject.

"Good," she nodded still not moving her head just turned to look at him.

"Are you ok?" he questioned a bit concerned as she was standing stiff as a board. She relaxed a little and nodded.

"Yea I'm alright," she assured him turning away from the mirror to face him.

"Alright love, dinner should be done in about a half an hour," he informed her before continuing down the hallway. Charlotte exhaled and sat down on the edge of her bed looking back to the mirror, which was empty except her reflection. She shook her head not sure what to make of it at all.

That night Charlotte just couldn't sleep and so she laid in bed staring at the ceiling. She laid there reflecting on her dreams. Someone called her name as she wandered through the woods. Someone needed her she knew it. She began to run through the forest searching for the source of the voice. No matter how adamantly she searched, she could never find anyone. She'd answer the voice, but it was as if whoever it was couldn't hear her. Suddenly she stood on a cliff overlooking vast amounts of land. In the distance was a grand lion and he stood there just looking at her. "I'm coming," she would call. There was never an answer. Sitting up in bed, she ran her fingers through her hair. Tossing her blankets to the side, she climbed out of bed and stuck her feet in her slippers. The house was dark and eerily silent. She walked down the hall quietly running her hand along the wall as a guide. She made her way to the bathroom closing the door behind her.

She stared into the mirror looking at her reflection. Something inside told her there had to be something more. She felt drawn, but to what she had no idea. The feeling was really beginning to get to her. Turning on the water, she washed her hands and splashed some on her face. She dried her hands on a towel and dabbed her face before turning and opening the bathroom door to walk out into the hallway. A sudden gust of cold air caused Charlotte to gasp and she looked around wide eyed in shock. She was not in her dimly lit hallway. Forest encompassed her, glowing moon breaking through the canopy. She stared panicking slightly as she turned in a circle.

"Ok Charlotte, just breath," she took deep breaths "You're just in the middle of the woods in your pajama's," she fought to stay calm. She wore pink pajama pants, a matching tank top, and her fuzzy slippers. She clearly wasn't equipped to be trekking through the woods. She began to move through the forest slowly looking for some sign of life.

Charlotte moved as quickly as she could manage through the forest. Suddenly a wolf was in her path. It looked up at her curiously. She let out a scream and began running in the opposite direction. Again, her path was blocked by what appeared to be a rearing equine figure. She fell back onto the ground as the creature's large hooves came down and her eyes widened. Towering over her was a centaur. He was very tall with long dark hair and dark eyes. A large sword hung around his human waist. The sword was embellished with gold and red and was much larger than any human man would be capable of wielding. His body was massive and rippled with muscle making him an intimidating figure. He looked down at her looking just as shocked as she was. She scrambled to her feet and stood defensively quite certain that she had to be dreaming.

"Are you alright?" he questioned in a deep voice.

"A bit shaken, but otherwise intact," she replied softly. She was indeed shaken yes, but it would be rude not to answer such a polite question. The centaur looked around and she noticed that he was not alone. Some of his company were centaur while some were men on horseback. The men on horseback were dressed in armor with red and gold tunics. He offered her a hand.

"Come, we will take you to the castle," he told her. She wasn't sure if she could trust them, but she was in no position to locate it herself.

"Thank you," she nodded taking his hand. He hoisted her up onto his back and she sat sidesaddle as they rode out of the forest. She would save her questions. That was if she didn't wake up first. She spotted what appeared to be a stone city in the distance. It was like something out of her childhood fantasies. That very city seemed to be where they were headed and it wasn't long before they reached its gates. People stared as they moved through the streets toward the castle. She didn't blame them. From what she had seen so far, she'd probably stare if she were them too. A girl in pink fuzzy slippers was probably a strange sight for them to see. Once they had reached the castle, the centaur helped her down.

"Thank you," she spoke softly as she looked around taking it all in.

"You are welcome, I do believe the King will want to see you," he nodded heading further into the castle.

"Excuse me, but where am I?" she questioned timidly.

"You are in Narnia miss," he answered gently looking back at her. Her eyes widened. Now she was certain she must be dreaming.

"What is your name?"

"My name is Roanon," he answered her waiting to see if she was finished before he continued.

"Thank you Roanon," she gave a nod. He returned her nod and motioned for her to follow him. He led her through the castle and stopped outside a set of large doors.

"Wait here," he told her as he went inside. She exhaled and began to look around the large corridor. The view out of the large castle windows was absolutely beautiful. Rolling hills, green meadows, and the large forest could be seen stretching off into the distance. A large tapestry opposite the windows on the wall caught her attention. It was red with gold edging and portrayed four figures with a large lion. She recognized the young faces from old family photos and her jaw dropped.

"Ok, my dreams are never this good," she spoke softly beginning to doubt if she was dreaming. Could it possibly be that all of those stories she'd been told through her childhood, stories that left her searching through every closet in the house, were true. She swallowed hard and took a deep breath stepping closer. Her eyes continued to comb the corridor looking over the other tapestries that hung there. There was another of the lion and then one of her mother, one of Uncle Peter, Uncle Edmund, and Aunt Lucy. She walked up to the one of her mother and gazed up at it. Suddenly Roanan emerged from the room looking for her.

"Miss," he called to her. She looked back to him and hurried down the corridor to him.

"Sorry, I got distracted" she explained. He looked to the tapestries.

"Ah, yes," he nodded looking to them, "The Kings and Queens of old and Aslan," he nodded to the lion, "He comes and goes," Roanan explained turning to her.

"Yes, I know" she spoke softly looking from the tapestry to him.

"The King wishes to see you," he told her as he opened the door for her. Charlotte nodded running her fingers through her hair she exhaled. She'd rather have an opportunity to change and freshen up if she was meeting a king, but it didn't seem like she was going to be given an opportunity to do so. She slowly walked into the large room, which seemed to be a throne room. Looking around nervously she stopped a few feet from the throne. The King and Queen sat before her both examining her. The King was older specks of grey in his long dark hair. He had short well-groomed facial hair and a gentle face. The Queen's eyes seemed young, but she looked to be around the same age as the King. Her hair was a lighter brown and her eyes were blue. Charlotte took a deep breath and exhaled waiting for someone to say something. The King rose from his throne and stepped closer to her a perplexed look on his face.

"Susan?" he spoke softly staring at her in shock.