Author's Note: Oh, it's you again! Hello from Knightime! You're almost there! Hope you've enjoyed it. The title of IV is Zulu, for M- from the other side of South Africa. Pushing still for reconciliation there! The PCS is French, for the DB family. I hope one day I will be able to say your name correctly!

Disclaimer: Still don't own it… :/ Sorry for the anticlimaz.

IV

Isilwane

(Beast)

After an awkward moment of silence, Legolas spoke up. "What land is this that you rule?"

Peter deferred to Edmund, who said proudly, "This is Narnia. Everything from the Lantern Waste in the West, to Shining Castle Cair Paravel on the sea.! Here, look." He held out a map of Narnia and the landing company from Middle Earth gathered around.

In the north were the Wildlands, to the south Archenland and the great desert expanse of Calormen, and in the middle—tiny Narnia. "Where then are you from?" said Lucy.

"We're from Middle Earth," piped Frodo.

"Hm…" said Eustace. "I don' see tha' place on the map…"

Legolas brought out a map of Middle Earth and held it up to the map of Narnia, side by side. Everyone gasped.

Apart, each map seemed to represent one self-contained world, but—side-by-side—Narnia on the left, Middle-Earth on the right—the two Worlds were just two continents on either side of the same sea.

"Whoa…" whispered Eustace into the stunned silence.

"World shaking stuff, 'ere," confirmed Ed.

After a moment, Frodo pointed at the Lion. "Who's… erm," he faltered. "Who's He?"

The Lion came up to him and spoke in a deep voice like the sweetest honey. "Young Frodo," said the Lion. "Do you not know me?" He smiled a deep feline sort of smile, purred a deep lion's purr, almost imperceptibly, and then turned away.

A shiver of awe passed through Frodo, and all the company from the East.

"That," said High King Peter, "is Aslan." The Lion padded slowly up the beach to the green again.

"He is the Lord of our land," said Queen Susan softly, looking towards the Lion now climbing the hills with the queerest, most beautiful smile on her face. "Above every High King of Narnia."

"The Maker of this world," said Caspian.

"He's the One who brought us here out of our world," said Eustace tenderly.

"The Son of the Emporer-Over-the-Sea," breathed Lucy sweetly, watching Him now up on the moor, gold against the bright green like a banner of war.

"And no," added Peter, breaking his gaze into the hills to stare straight into Legolas with the cockiest, most fearsome, most boyish smile there ever was (the kind you only see in Narnia). "No," he said, "He ain't a tame Lion."

Frodo gasped, and looked back up into the hills—but He was gone. And they all stood there on the beach—people from both sides of the Sea, of different colors, statures, languages, and shapes—with the waves crashing behind them and the green hills rising up above them into the clearest blue sky, the ocean wind washing the smell of salt over them and mixing with the sweet smell of the New World before them—staring up after Him. And none knew how long.

But Frodo was thinking. And after a very long time (which might really not have been long at all) he said, "Wait…"

"Yes?" said Edmund the Just and Caspian.

"Yes?" said Elrond and Legolas.

"Well?" prodded little Gimli.

"I've…" murmured Frodo over the soft roar of the waves. "I've just been thinking… If He's… Aslan is… the 'Son of…' How did you say it?"

Lucy smiled. "'The Son of the Emporer-Over-the-Sea," she said.

"Well," said Frodo, looking up at Legolas. "Doesn't that make Aragorn His—His Da?"

après les crédits

"This is wonderful!" cried Lucy, hugging Frodo. "You will called Dear Little Friend II, and we shall be friends!

"Oh!" she crooned, "What fun we shall have!