I got the idea for this story from a series of prompts I saw on somebody's profile. I wrote them all down, intending to say where they came from if I ever used them, but have unfortunately lost the username. Thank you to whoever the prompts belonged to and my apologies at not being able to give you due credit!

Disclaimer: Most of the characters in this story belong to C. S. Lewis, apart from a few that I have created.

Promises

To put it bluntly, I was bored. That is to say, mostly bored, mixed with a small amount of amusement at the unholy glee that lit up Corin's face. Normally I would be the first to say that having visitors at Cair was fun. More than fun, in fact. There were the inevitable parties and picnics and when Corin just so happened to be one of the visitors, quite a few pranks as well. Unfortunately, when their much longed for visit ended up clashing with the unannounced arrival of Governor Temus and his daughter from the Lone Islands the potential for disaster multiplied tenfold.

At this precise moment, disaster was perched precariously on the top of the head of Beatrice (Governor Temus' daughter) in the form of a very large cricket. As I said, the potential for disaster multiplied tenfold when Corin was around.

Apart from when we had guests, Peter, Susan, Edmund and I would usually eat breakfast quietly, talking about all things that didn't concern running a country if we possibly could. It was our time to just enjoy being a family and helped us to clear our heads ready for the day to come. Sadly Governor Temus, it appeared, did not follow this custom. Rather, he was attempting to carry on the conversation about taxes that he and Edmund had started the evening before.

My brother, who was not a morning person, simply drank his tea and made various non-committal noises. Catching my eye, he gave an almost imperceptible nod towards Peter, diverting my attention away from the cricket and towards the mouse whispering something in his ear. A moment later, my oldest brother quietly excused himself from the table and slipped out the small door behind his chair.

Very odd. It must have been an incredibly important message to get my brother to abandon his breakfast. I had half made up my mind to go after him when a small voice spoke up in my ear.

"The High King has received an important message and requires your presence in the study as soon as possible," informed the small brown mouse perched on my shoulder.

"Did he say what the message was about, Jenna?" I asked back as quietly as I could. Not quietly enough, it turned out because an inane giggle smothered Jenna's reply.

"Oh, how perfectly adorable!" Beatrice trilled. "So sweet!"

The sound of Jenna gritting her teeth reached my ears.

"This is Jenna, L- Beatrice," I informed her, remembering just in time to omit the Lady before her name as she had begged me to the previous day. Quite why the fact that we were almost the same age meant we were going to be the best of friends was currently eluding me but, hopefully, I would become more enlightened as the day wore on.

"I'm afraid you must excuse me," I said as Susan and Edmund also made their excuses. "I should be back in a few moments."

Pausing a moment behind Susan as she bent down to whisper something in Corin's ear I watched the cricket slowly start to crawl off Beatrice's head, then followed Susan as she left. A slight tug on my skirt as I passed Corin's seat made me glance down at him, but he just pointed surreptitiously at the cricket and grinned. I just rolled my eyes, but couldn't quite smother all of a smile.

Susan and Edmund were waiting for me outside and together we set off for the study where Peter was waiting for us. As we turned the corner that headed away from the breakfast room the peace was shattered by an ear splitting screech. It appeared Beatrice had discovered the cricket.

On my shoulder Jenna winced and I couldn't say that I blamed her. Ouch.

"Sounds like Beatrice discovered the cricket," remarked my brother.

"That's been Corin's aim for the last three years, to get me to scream like that," I remarked appreciative of his skill as the shriek carried on and on.

"Not that he's going to succeed," added Ed.

How well he knew me. When King Lune and Corin had first visited us five years ago the then seven year old prince had been firmly persuaded that all girls were useless. Having worked his way through six nurses he had been thoroughly unimpressed when I had assured him that not all girls were a waste of space and even fewer actually spent all their time screaming at spiders. He had been so unimpressed, in fact, that it instantly became one of his life's ambitions to get me to scream, as he phrased it, 'like a girl'.

Needless to say, it had immediately become my life's ambition to never, ever scream 'like a girl' and so far I was the clear winner of our little competition. Thankfully. The game had long since ceased to be serious but I just knew that I would never live it down if I slipped up.

Which reminded me.

"What did you whisper in Corin's ear as we left?" I asked, curiously. Susan was nobody's fool and could spot one of Corin's tricks a mile away; a knack that had proved useful on more than one occasion.

"I told him that if I found that spider in his pocket anywhere near Lady Beatrice I would put something soft and squishy in his bed," she said calmly.

The slight tug on the skirt of my dress was suddenly making a lot more sense. Carefully, I put my hand into my pocket and extracted the spider that Corin had so thoughtfully placed there for me to find.

"Wouldn't happen to be this spider, would it?" Susan didn't even bother to give it a cursory look.

"Probably."

Thank Aslan for older sisters. Such a very useful aid in the war against little Corins.

OoOoO

Peter was waiting inside the study when we arrived, the mouse who had brought him the message sitting on his shoulder. On the back of one of the chairs perched a falcon, silently waiting for the rest of us to appear.

"Was that Beatrice I heard?" Peter inquired. "Has Corin struck already? I thought it was usually a day or so before he did anything major."

I deposited the spider on the desk.

"It wasn't anything major," I said coolly. "Just a cricket for Beatrice and a spider in my pocket. He's just getting started - the spider was just a warning. Give him a day or so to warm up, then . . ." I let the sentence trail off delicately and allowed a wicked smile to flash across my face.

All of my siblings groaned. They knew what that smile meant.

"Why'd you abandon breakfast?" Edmund asked, sitting down. "Couldn't it have waited?"

"Unfortunately not," Peter suddenly became more serious. "Asa here has travelled from the Western Wood carrying a message that Miko deemed important enough that it couldn't wait. He thought it best to wait for you three before he said any more."

The little brown mouse on Peter's shoulder nodded.

"I thought it would be best if Asa himself told you what he had seen," he said in his usual timid way. "I did not feel that I could do such an important message justice whilst conveying it over the breakfast table."

Susan looked worried.

"Asa?" She asked.

"The mouse speaks truly," Asa said in the clipped tones only found on the northern borders of Narnia. "My family originally comes from the northlands, but I also have some friends in the northern parts of the Western Woods. Lately there have been rumours of sightings of a few of the fell folk in that part of the forest, not many, just the occasional hag and werewulf, but enough to make my friends uneasy. They are mostly peaceable people there since there had been almost nothing to fear since your majesties were crowned, but they are growing concerned and asked me to pass on a message. They said they have sent others with messages but have heard no word in reply."

"We haven't had any messages," I said slowly, looking at Peter who was also shaking his head. "Not a word from that part of the woods in nearly two years."

The thought of the fell folk being seen in Narnia again was unsettling: we had seen neither hide nor hair of any of them since we had beaten the witch. To start with there had been the occasional sighting in the wood, but by the time we had got there they were always long gone. These sightings had grown progressively fewer over the years until they had petered out altogether. The last one had been nearly four years ago.

Edmund's face showed his thoughts were following a similar train to mine.

"I don't like it," he said, echoing my thoughts. "Why now? Nothing for nearly three-"

"Four."

"Sorry, four years. Why should we get sightings of more than one fell beast at the same time? A hag and a werewulf, you say? The sightings were always of a lone beast, heading north. Why suddenly more than one?"

Peter turned back to Asa.

"Have there been any definite sightings?" He asked. "Anything other than just rumours?"

"No, just the occasional rumour, although they are growing more common. The whole feel of the woods has changed, though. Last time I visited they were peaceful but there's an edge there that wasn't there before. People are frightened, and I for one wouldn't want to be out travelling alone at night."

"It's worth going to have a look, Peter," Susan said softly as he said nothing. "Rumours rarely turn out to be based on nothing and it shows we care."

"Su's right," I said. "I'll go, whilst the rest of you stay here. That way Governor Temus can't be offended."

"You won't," said all three of my siblings at once. I slumped back in my chair, disgruntled. Some things never changed and overprotective siblings was one of them. Still, it was worth a shot, I supposed. One day they were going to have to let me do something on my own.

"Ed and I'll go," Peter said decisively. "I'm sure Temus won't mind. We'll be gone for six days, ten at most. I'm sure he'll understand; he rules a kingdom in a small way himself.

he turned back to the falcon.

"Were you planning on flying straight back, Asa? King Edmund and I will probably be setting off first thing tomorrow morning - you're welcome to join us." Asa considered for a moment.

"I'll wait and fly with your majesties," he said.

"Tomorrow, then," Peter said and the falcon left, winging his way through the open window.

OoOoO

The others had started to leave the table by the time we got back. Corin squirmed as I dumped the spider on his head and let it scuttle down his neck.

"Maybe next time," I told him and he grinned, unrepentant.

"How can you stand those things," Beatrice shuddered theatrically.

"Practise," I shrugged and buttered a slice of toast.