IMPORTANT Author's Note: I am in the process of having this story properly betaed. The chapter that have the chapter title with just a number (ei. "6") are the chapter that haven't been beated yet. Also, as I went back and edited everything, I changed several characters, so if there's a discrepency as far as that's concerned, that would be why. That said, thank you very much for reading this and enduring the confusion. God bless!
Prologue
"No!"
Rhoswen sank onto the bed in her little room in a Calormene inn and dropped her head into her hands. The news that had been brought to her made her head spin. She didn't want to obey. She couldn't obey. He was talking about all the pain and suffering they'd run from. And he wanted her to send the baby back. Fariishta Riana, Princess of Terebithia, was all that remained of her dead brother and sister-in-law. It wasn't fair. The tiny green-eyed baby couldn't be the savior of Terebithia.
Then she remembered the look in the grave lion's eyes, the Lion of her grandmother's homeland. Aslan, he'd been called in her mother's stories. He was good to all who loved him, but he was not by any means a tame lion. His look had told her that it didn't really matter if she cooperated or not: the baby was going to save her people.
Aslan had said other things too: that she must hide; to go deep into the woods, where no one could distinguish her as a royal maiden. That she was to give the child a false name and to teach her in the ways of her grandmother. He wanted her to raise the child to be strong and courageous and kind. He said to be patient, he would come. And with that he disappeared into the night, leaving Rhoswen with the desire be disobedient and the terrible fact that she couldn't be.
OoOoOo
(Two months later)
Rhoswen looked at the green-eyed little baby and sighed. They should have already been in Archenland by now and the caravan driver had just informed her of yet another delay. Fae (who was once called Fariishta Riana) was fast asleep on a Calormen bed which, in Rhoswen's opinion, wasn't much more than a huge pile of pillows. It had been a long day of travel, her niece had remained a happily cooing creature; Rhoswen, however, felt like screaming curses upon the idiot caravan driver who'd delayed their advancement to Archenland far too long in her opinion.
She tenderly brushed a dark curl from the child's forehead, letting her finger trail along the soft, pink cheek before pulling a blanket up to her chin. She smiled at the peace in the baby's face, glad the howling desert winds weren't disturbing her. It had been a long journey, and there was still much to go. They were camped just outside of Tashbaan and the Great Desert lay before them. After crossing that it was her plan to head to the Archenlandish and Narnian border and live in the hill country until the time came.
Oh Aslan, please let it be the right course… was her last thought before she succumbed to weariness and fell into sleep.
OoOoOo
(Six months later)
Rhoswen shoved her only trunk deep into the back of the cellar of the little cottage she had found for herself and Fae. It was located deep in the woods that bordered Archenland and Narnia and the nearest village was well over five miles away. Long ago had she traded her jewels and baubles from Terebinthia for more simplistic, practical things such as a horse and supplies. This trunk contained the rest of her worldly belongings and the most important belonging Fae had: a sword that Fae would need years from now; a sword that Rhoswen wanted to keep far from her memory.
There was a loft that she'd made a storeroom out of. Later she would turn it into a room for Fae, but that was a long way off. She would take the little room adjacent to the staircase leading to the cellar, to better keep Fae from discovering the secrets it contained.
OoOoOo
(Seventeen years later)
Rhoswen had waited for nearly eighteen years. She'd thought he would forget. She hoped that Aslan had found some other champion for the island and its people. She spent her sleepless evenings begging him to go find someone who was strong and a proven warrior. Someone who'd conquer the foe and return the island to it's rightful heiress willingly. Of course, Rhoswen had no such luck.
He came to her one quiet afternoon in late summer. Fae had left the morning before with their little horse and cart to get supplies from the village. He told her it was time and to prepare Fae to leave before the end of the week. The sooner the better he'd said. Rhoswen's heart broke.
"Do you trust me, oh daughter of Narnia?"
Rhoswen stared deep into the eyes of the Lion. His gaze was steady and confident, firm but gentle. When she looked in his eyes, she knew he understood what he was asking her to do. She wanted to cry, but not for reasons she thought she would. She knew she had to what he asked; she wanted to do as he asked.
"Yes. Aslan, I trust you."
"Then rest in the assurance that your charge will be under my care and that I will watch over her throughout her entire journey."
"Her journey?"
"To Cair Paravel to beg the aid from the Emperor of the Lone Islands himself: the High King Peter."
Chapter 1
Fae was on her way home from the village when she saw him. He was beautiful, huge and golden in the setting sun and he was walking towards her and away from the woods where Rhoswen's cottage was hidden from most of Archenland. Rhoswen had told her stories when she was a tiny child; stories about a faraway place and good, peaceful kings and horrid, dark lords who made war on the poor kings and a lion called Aslan who came to bring peace to the country and set everything right. It had never occurred to her that the lion might have been real until she laid eyes upon his magnificence. And when he stopped directly in front of the cart and spoke soothing words to the horse, it made perfect sense to get off the cart and drop to her knees.
Silence filled the woods. Even the birds were silent, watching to see what the great Aslan would do. The stillness was so enormous that Fae felt it pressing her until she thought she'd explode. Then he laid a grand, velvet paw lightly on her head.
"The Lady Rhoswen has taught you well, rise."
Fae rose slowly and dusted the dirt from her skirt with shaking hands. When Aslan touched her something had stirred deep inside her and the powerful emotion gave her such a jolt that she felt faint and on fire all at once.
"Are you the great Aslan from the stories Rhoswen told me as a child? If you are then tell me to do anything and it shall be done. And if you're not then you must be even greater than he and I will still do anything you say."
A deep chuckle from deep in his chest made the ground beneath her feet shake and the leaves on the trees tremble.
"I am one and the same and it is good that you know me. Hasten to your cottage for your aunt Rhoswen has important news for you and it needn't be delayed any longer."
He turned to leave and she reached out to him.
"Where are you going? Surely you could pass the night with us. The cottage is not far."
She spoke more out of longing to be with him over anything else and he knew it. He stopped and turned to her, the tiniest look of reproach on his face. She blushed and dipped into a quick but clumsy curtsy.
"I'm needed elsewhere tonight. You shall see me soon enough. Now go home. She's waiting for you."
Fae curtsied again and climbed back into the cart. When she turned to the road all that remained of his presence was dust, shining in the fading sunlight. She flicked the whip and bade the little horse to hurry home.
OoOoOo
"Rhoswen! Oh, Rhoswen!" Fae cried as she ran through the door. "I met him! Aslan! from the stories! He's real! Oh so real! And just like you described him too! Rhoswen, He's amazing. Why--?"
The woman who had raised her looked up sharply when Fae burst through the door and cut her off gently. "I'll tell you all about it later. Now do please unload what you've brought while there is still some daylight."
Fae snapped her mouth shut and turned to carry out the deed. She hurriedly unloaded the cart and stabled the horse, her mind whirling with questions. After they'd eaten a tensely quiet supper (vegetable stew, brown bread, and for dessert, wild black berries) and cleaned up the supper dishes, Rhoswen sat in her rocking chair by the fire, still silent on the matter that weighed most heavily on both their minds. Fae continued to clean up the cottage wordlessly, anxious for answers, but knowing it was not Rhoswen's way. After rocking for awhile, Rhoswen spoke:
"Now then, Aslan came to visit me this afternoon while you were away." Fae nodded, but kept silent, "He is the one who told me what I am about to tell you." Here she smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. "You must keep in mind my dear, if Aslan said it, it must be."
"Oh yes."
"You must go to Narnia."
"Narnia…" she breathed, excitement rising in her breast as well as a longing to see the land she lived so close to but had never seen.
"Yes dear. You'll be traveling to Cair Paravel of the four thrones. There you must tell High King Peter that Aslan has sent you and that you need his aid very desperately."
"I do? For what?"
"That I cannot tell you. It is better if you do not know."
Fae gave her a quizzical look and Rhoswen sighed.
"It will keep you safe, my dear. Anyway, I'll warrant that Aslan will tell you all you need to know in good time. Faith is what you need and I haven't raised you with a lack of it. All will be well."
"When do we leave?"
Rhoswen sighed again.
"Dearest, I cannot go with you. I'm sorry. I wish I could. But you see, there are things that must be done and I'm told I'm the only one who can do them."
Fae regarded the woman who'd raised her carefully. She seemed tired and older that her thirty some years. But she was also at peace and Fae saw that she had confidence in her, confidence that Fae didn't feel for herself. She felt the pride beaming from the woman's deepest heart when she finally spoke:
"Then...when do I leave?"
