Lucy suddenly felt as if she was floating, that it was not her, but someone else standing still in the middle of the chaos. Peter and Edmund were shouting, trying to maintain some semblance of order. Susan had run forward to the man and was arranging a stretcher to carry the messenger to the infirmary.

Suddenly she was violently jerked back into her body and the full reality of the situation hit. They were at war. War meant death and loss and destruction. War meant Peter and Edmund leaving and maybe never coming back.

"Edmund, arrange for a scouting party. We have to know their numbers before we can plan a strategy." Peter yelled, his voice growing hoarse. Edmund nodded, his eyes growing distant, planning. Lucy was shocked at how Peter was handling it. Nowhere in his demeanor was the loving older brother she knew so well, the one who held her when she scraped her knees or who she could seek protection from when Edmund was chasing her with the latest creepy-crawly he'd found in the gardens. The Peter standing calm and collected was every inch the high king of Narnia.

When she felt a touch on her arm she whirled around, more on edge than she'd realized. Instead of the attacker she'd subconsciously been expecting was a faun, wearing the insignia of the palace guard.

"Your majesty, your brother has sent me to escort you back to your chamber." He stated.

"But I want to help!" Lucy protested, furious that she was being treated like a child.

"I'm sorry your majesty, but I'm under direct orders from the high king. I'm afraid his orders outrank yours in matters like this."

Lucy glanced over at Peter, and at seeing the crowd of advisors that had formed around him decided to let him get away with it-for tonight.

The next morning, Lucy glided up to Peter's study doors, silencing the attending guards who would challenge her entrance with an icy look.

Peter glanced up at her entrance, tossing an irritated look at the guards who he'd told to let no one in.

"Lucy, I don't have time for any games right now, I have to-"

"I don't want to play any games! I'm not a child you know."

Peter looked exhausted. "Then what do you want?"

"I want to accompany you and Edmund. I want to help fight the war." Lucy stated confidently.

Peter's head snapped up, and it looked like she had his full attention for the first time. "No."

"But-"

"I mean it, Lu. War is no place for women, especially ones as young as you."

"But I'm nearly as good as Susan with a bow, and I can throw a dagger better than anybody!"

"Messing around with your sister in the yard is one thing. Marching into a field with men trying to kill you is quite another."

"That's what you're going to do!" Lucy exclaimed hotly.

"I'm king. It's my duty to protect Narnia."

"And I'm queen!"

The door was flung open. "Peter, do you have the- oh, Lucy." Edmund seemed surprised to see her. "Should I come back later?"

"No, Lucy and I were done." Peter said, ignoring Lucy.

"Oh!" Lucy fairly screaming and whirled out of the room, fuming.

"What happened?" Edmund asked, shocked. He'd never seen Lucy this mad at Peter.

"She wants to fight in the war." Peter said, his exhaustion showing as he drooped down to the desk.

Edmund was suddenly filled with images of hundreds of bloody-thirsty men after his little sister. "We can't let her."

"Exactly," said Peter, the brothers united in their never-ending quest to protect their sisters.

"I cannot believe them!" cried Lucy, storming into her chamber and slamming the door, startling her poor maid, Enna.

"W-Who, your majesty?" Stammered Enna.

"Edmund and Peter of course!"

"The Kings, But what've they done?"

"They're being narrow-minded." Lucy sulked. "You can go now, Enna, thank-you."

"But,"

"You can go now." Lucy repeated, wanting to be alone. When she finally was alone she flopped down onto a couch, wanting to cry but too angry to shed a tear. How dare they? She was just as important to this country as they were, even if they were boys and she never could be- or could she? A wonderful thought sprang into her head like the first blossom of spring. She leaped up and scrambled over to her mirror. She quickly braided her hair and wound it around her head, tucking it under a cap. It was the first time she didn't envy Susan her full lips and rounded eyes, because without them and without her hair framing her face she looked like a boy. Certainly not a 15 year old boy, but she could pass for 12. Looking in the mirror, for the first time all day she felt herself smile.