Well, the Pevensies are finally in Narnia as of this chappie! LOL. Enjoy, and PLEASE REVIEW!! I want to know what you're all thinking so far! LOL.

Chapter 4

"Check," Edmund said, moving his knight to set up Peter once again. His older brother sighed from across the chess board and scratched his head.

"Why did I ever let you talk me into playing chess with you?" he asked with a smirk as Edmund smiled back.

"Just move," Edmund replied.

"All right, all right, just give me a minute. I've gotta have some time to get out of this mess you've put me in."

"Take all the time you need," Edmund chuckled.

The two boys were seated in front of the fireplace on a beautiful maroon rug with Edmund's chess set. Edmund, the better of the two brothers at strategy, was beating Peter just as he'd intended, although he had to admit that Peter's game was improving with each time they played. Susan sat nearby cross-stitching with Lucy at her side who was simply staring into the fire, letting it warm her face. It was Christmas Eve, and Mrs. Pevensie had already gone to bed for the night with the promise that her children would all be in bed as soon as the boys' chess game was over. She had had another tiring day of delivering food baskets, and even with the help of Edmund and Lucy she had ended up exhausted by the time she crossed the threshold of her own house once more. She would have liked nothing better than to sit around the fire with her four children, but Susan had insisted she go to bed after a hot cup of tea, and she had been in no mood to argue. Mr. Pevensie was, of course, still away at war, but the children had hopes every day that he would be allowed leave to come home and see them over the holidays even if he couldn't be there on Christmas Day itself.

"Aslan!" Lucy shouted suddenly, startling Peter in the midst of moving his bishop so that he dropped it, scattering the rest of the chess pieces all over the board.

"Oh, Lucy!" he cried, exasperated, the name she had uttered not registering just yet, only the actions that had followed.

"What?" Edmund asked.

"Aslan?" Susan stared at her sister confused. "What on earth are you talking about, Lucy?"

"I saw him in the fire!" she cried.

"What?" Susan questioned in disbelief, rushing over to stare straight into the blazing fire as Edmund and Peter immediately followed. Lucy pointed at the fireplace desperately, hoping that this time they would see what she was seeing. Peter delicately squeezed his way between Susan and Edmund to get even closer to the fire. He pushed a firm but gentle hand against Lucy's arm to move her further back, away from the fire.

"Don't get so close, Lucy," he commanded as she obeyed, scooting back on her knees about a foot.

"I saw him, I know I did," she said. "There he is again! Didn't you see him, Peter?"

Peter squinted into the fire as Susan, Edmund, and Lucy all sat slightly further back, waiting for the word of the oldest to affirm that of the youngest. He watched the fire wrap itself around the logs and lick against the brick walls of the fireplace for a minute or two, but just as he was about to turn around to face the rest dejectedly, the fire flickered in a way it hadn't before, and he thought he did see something. He watched as the fire formed itself in the head of a lion, but not just any lion.

"It is Aslan," he said softly, still peering into the fire.

"What?" Susan slid up next to her brother to look into the fire too, still slightly doubtful. Edmund joined the two on the other side of Peter. "I don't see anything."

"Keep looking," Peter told her in a hushed voice. The three watched the fire for a moment more.

"I see him!" Edmund cried, pointing into the fire. "Did you see him, Su? He was right there!"

"I, I-" she stuttered, still squinting into the fire to try to see what the rest of her siblings were seeing. "Wait; I, I do see him! Aslan!" As soon as she had spoken his name, her face beaming, the firey face let out a roar and in an instant the fire had disappeared. All that remained were the burned logs and a cloud of smoke. The four children moved closer but no sooner had they done so then they felt themselves being sucked into the fireplace and up the chimney. Everything turned black and they seemed to be flying upward through an unknown abyss. "What's happening?"

"It's magic!" Lucy cried excitedly.

Trumpkin tossed and turned in his elegant bed, unable to sleep. He had never quite gotten used to the fluffy mattress of his bed in the palace. As one of the advisors to the king, he had moved into the castle as soon as Caspian had been made king of Narnia. Of course, the fluffiness of the mattress wasn't the only thing that had been keeping him up month after month. The war preyed upon his mind mercilessly, as it seemed to do to everyone lately. Things were worse than ever. The armies were losing men and morale rapidly. All he could do was hope that the kings and queens of old would answer the call of Queen Susan's horn soon. Suddenly he heard a loud noise from within his very room, near the fireplace. He stood up and pulled his sword down off of one of the bedposts he had had it hanging around and drew the curtains away from his bed, pointing the sword at the four Pevensie children lying flat on their backs on the ground before him.

"Stay where you are!" he shouted, but then gasped almost immediately, realizing the mistake he had made. "Bedknobs and broomsticks, it's you." He sheathed his sword quickly and hopped down from his bed to kneel before the four. "Your majesties."

"Trumpkin!" Lucy cried happily, rushing to the red-bearded dwarf to embrace him.

"Queen Lucy," he said softly, wrapping his arms around her. "My dear little friend." When they pulled away he looked into her face gently. "We have been eagerly awaiting your return."

"Why?" Susan asked as Trumpkin lifted his head to look at the other three.

"War, your highness," he replied. "Since your departure war has fallen upon Narnia once again, this time from the country of Ronstadt. Hope is dwindling rapidly; we had to do something."

"Like call us back," she filled in the blanks as he nodded.

"So you called us back?" Edmund questioned.

"Well, not exactly," Trumpkin said sheepishly, eyes falling on the floor.

"Then who did, Trumpkin?" Peter asked as the dwarf lifted his head. He could not deny the High King the truth.

"King Caspian blew Queen Susan's horn upon my request. The country is in great peril, my king; we had to have help."

"Caspian?" Susan breathed, drawing back slightly. "Trumpkin, how many years have passed in Narnia since we left?"

"Five."

"Five," she repeated to herself in a whisper, trying to picture Caspian now as a twenty-two-year-old instead of the seventeen-year-old boy she had known only months ago. Peter and Edmund eyed her quizically and then looked at each, understanding.

"It's only been three months for us," Edmund said to Trumpkin. "You've got a lot to catch us up on if you want us to be able to help."

"Everything will be explained shortly," Trumpkin promised with a nod. "Right now I'd better go inform the king of your arrival. Come with me, your majesties."

The children followed Trumpkin out of the room and down the hall, Susan bringing up the rear. She was so unsure of what he would do or say or think when he saw her. Would he still love her? Would he be angry with her for leaving? Or would he simply feel nothing at all; would he just look at her like he looked at everyone else without feeling a single thing? She didn't think she could bear to see him again even though her heart cried for the vision of him so badly that she could barely contain herself. Instead she walked behind her sister and brothers and Trumpkin shakily, scared to the very core of her soul.

Please let him still love me.