A/N: This story has been swimming around in my head for quite some time, but it's just now coming to fruition. Be kind, please, even if you have constructive criticism. I'm expecting for there to be some kind of backlash about this, seeing as it is a crossover. Still, please don't forget to review!

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A terrible kind of ringing sound echoed between Sam's ears, and as he opened his eyes and peered at the strangeness of his current surroundings, there was nothing for it except to stand to his feet and make sense of where he was, or, rather, where he had been dropped.

There was a heavy wood around him, the treetops thick with dark leaves and intermittent shadows cast along the ground. It was a lush place, to be sure, but Sam couldn't have told anyone of his whereabouts if he tried. Dean was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Castiel.

The bump on his head seemed to pound, pound, pound away within the confines of his skull and as he rose to his feet, Sam's vision suffered momentarily as he attempted to make sense of where he was.

Up ahead, he could see white...lots of white and it was solid in color against the bluest sky he had ever had the privilege of looking upon. Perhaps there was life ahead or, better yet, someone who could tell him where the hell he was...or why the hell he was where he currently found himself to be.

Sam trudged ahead, stumbling a bit at first as he could feel his vertigo stabilizing after a few large-legged steps forward. The bustling of something was heard nearby, and Sam hoped that it was friend rather than foe.

He could hear a horse's whinny and, after turning a few degrees to his left, he realized that this was a true assumption. A horse and its rider were headed for him and stopped in his presence, rearing back enough so that Sam could see that it was a woman, and a lovely one at that.

She had hair like flames in color and worn long with subtle, loose braids intermittently woven beneath a crown of silver, a complimentary shade of metal for her fair complexion and dusting of freckles peppering her high cheekbones. She was slender in figure, but he could tell from the breasts down that she was a bit rounder for her figure than was probably normal for her, a sure sign that this woman was pregnant. Still, with long fingers, a sweet smile and wide, brown eyes, this woman was truly a sight for sore eyes.

"A stranger in my woods?" she poised, her voice full of spectacle and marvel. "Such has not happened for a time. What is your name, stranger?"

Sam instantly knew that this woman was royalty, though he wasn't quite sure why he knew this to be fact. "Sam is my name, Your Majesty," he greeted, bowing slightly in reverence of her station.

"You must be lost, Sam," she commented, swinging her leg over her saddle and dismounting from her horse to face up to him directly. She was a fair bit shorter than him, but seemed to be slightly taller than average for women, he thought. Her dress was regal and turquoise in shade, highlighting all of her best assets and, more decidedly, her rounding abdomen. She appeared like a character straight out of The Lord of the Rings, like an elf from Rivendell or the , minus the pointed ears. "None wander around these woods and not alone." Her brown eyes scanned his physique and Sam was suddenly feeling self-conscious. "What on earth are you dressed as? I have never seen trousers like those before."

She was, of course, referencing his jeans. Sam blushed a bit and straightened his clothes, swiping the dirt and leaves from their surfaces to try and make himself more presentable. "Yes, well...I was wearing them when I woke up in the dirt. I am sorry, Your Majesty. I don't look my best."

The woman smiled and shook her head faintly. "Do not fret, Sam. I am not one to judge on the appearance of others." She gestured her head down to her belly, placing a hand there gently before making eye contact with him. "Do you know my name?"

Sam thought for a moment, truly wishing that he did, in fact, know what this woman's name was. It was almost as if he already knew somewhere in the files of his mind's consortium, but it was not coming off of his tongue as easily as he wished that it would. "I'm afraid your name escapes me, Majesty."

It seemed as though she was about to explain herself, but another horse galloped into the immediate vicinity, this time bearing a man. This man had dark hair that was closer to being black than brown, was tall and slim in form, had freckles like the woman's and large brown eyes to match, but was different in all other looks. He, too, was wearing a crown of silver, and his attire was a sea-blue, a nice and notable contrast to the woman's.

"My lady," the man said, accented in a British tone just as the woman was, "who is this stranger?" He dismounted his horse quickly and drew his sword as if to defend her. "Tell me who you are and what your business is with her, or I'll - "

"My lord!" the woman said, rushing to the man's side and physically staying his arm as she leaned over his shoulder. "This young man was just telling me that his name is Sam. He is lost in the wood and is misdressed. Perhaps we can accommodate him? Surely the castle has clothes that will fit him, however gargantuan he is in size."

The man listened to the woman, appearing to be softened by her very presence. It became apparent to Sam that these two were married, noting the matching rings of gold on their left hands.

"Very well," he said in agreement, turning his gaze to Sam. "My wife has made a fair point. I extend apologies for my brutish behavior, sir. My brother and I returned from war not two days ago and I still have not adjusted to more civilized conversation."

Sam bowed a bit to the man, nodding. "Apology accepted, Your Majesty."

The man turned to his wife and smiled gently. "Shall we?"

"Indeed," his wife said, accepting assistance from her husband in mounting her horse. Soon, they were on their way towards the large mass of white that Sam had seen earlier. He followed them as they walked beside him, their horses slow to keep up the pace with him. "Really, Sam, we must get you a new set of clothes."

The man laughed aloud, a deep, hearty laugh. "If you are to appear in my court, you will not be dressed in that wardrobe."

Sam didn't take offense to their words. He was feeling massively underdressed and didn't like the fact that he stood out enough for them to make comments about. They were royalty and he was in their land, for whatever reason, so he knew he must abide by their rules.

While he couldn't understand the reason for being in this place, it was a well-known fact that he had been in situations far less pleasant than stumbling across two royals in a thick wood without rhyme or reason. He accepted his current stance and decided that he would need answers down the road, but not just now. For now, he was marveling in the magnificence of the open-air castle he found himself entering. It was then that his first and most blatant clue emerged, hoof-clodden and all.

Fauns. Driads. Naiads. Gnomes. Dwarfs. Minotaurs. Gryphons. All sorts of fantastical creatures were skipping about in the courtyard of this castle, all clad in leaves and the attire one would fully expect from a multitude of folks bathed in mystical existence. Sam was instantly in awe of this place. It was full of creatures that he had only ever read about in books as a kid, and here they were, in the flesh, breathing and smiling at him and making him feel more welcome in this place than he had felt in any place in a very long time.

The king and queen were met by folks who assisted them off of their horses before taking the creatures to the stables and allowing the married couple to befriend the large man they had found in the wood.

"This is as much your home now as it is ours," the woman offered sweetly, and Sam flashed her a smile. "Now, where is Peter?"

Peter...no...it can't be. The woman here, the ginger...no...and the man...yes...yes! It must be! I'm in Narnia! Sam knew where he was and, forgetting the reason why he was there, he bowed before the queen once again.

"Your Majesty," he said, taking her hand politely into his own, "you are Queen Anne the Faithful." He pressed his lips to her knuckles before bowing before her husband. "You are King Edmund the Just. I'm sorry I did not recognize this sooner."

Anne smiled at him. "Rise, Sam. It is forgiven."

Edmund nodded in agreement and brightened his expression at the sight of a woman nearing. "Ah, Lucy!" he beckoned, raising a finger to get her attention.

Sam stood, quickly turning to face the younger Queen and solidify his presence in a land he had read about but never experienced. It was then that his heart skipped a beat.

The beauty of Queen Lucy could not be overstated. She was absolutely breathtaking, a goddess in a lithe body. Her chestnut-colored locks were long and wavy with a slightly bushy attribute to them, but she wore them well. Her crown was a combination of gold and silver, more than likely a divider between the High King and Queen, the next level down of Edmund and Anne, and then herself. It was more like a tiara, but was etched with leaves that shimmered like the sun in her beryl hues. Her nose was cute and button-like and lined perfectly with supple lips stretched over pearly teeth. Sam was entranced by her striking appearance and, with a shaky hand, he bowed to take her own.

Lucy took his hand, but instead pulled him back up until he was straightened, outstretching her hand to shake his instead. "Oh, you shake it," she instructed and he grinned before obliging. "Finally, someone around here knows how to shake a hand."

"I've shaken many hands in my life, my lady," Sam reassured her, earning him a laugh from her that made his skin flutter.

"What is it, brother?" Lucy questioned, turning her attention back to Edmund.

"Have you seen Peter around? We are sure that he would have some clothes for this young man to wear, but we are unsure of his whereabouts."

Lucy shrugged lightly. "The last I saw of him, he was in court trying to woo Sylfaen into joining him for the dinner feast, but she was having none of it. I could take him to the robe-makers and have them whip something up for him, if that is fine."

Edmund nodded once, pertly. "Of course. Give him a tour of the castle as well, if you don't mind."

Lucy curtsied reverently and stalked off, scooping her arm towards her own body as if to tell Sam to follow her, and follow her he did.

Sam was beyond mesmerized by this place and all of its beauty, especially that of its female counterparts. Why, then, was he here? Wasn't Narnia a fiction created by the late and great C.S. Lewis as allegories for children? How was he here and to what end?