I'm back! A day late, perhaps, but better late than never, no?
Anyway, thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. The two worlds have met - what do we think about that?

I'm still excited about where this is going, but this chapter isn't my favorite. Still a little uneasy about it, but I feel like it's as good as it's going to get right now.

Disclaimer: I don't own BBC's Merlin or C. S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia. The characters belong to their respective franchises. OCs belong to me.

Special thanks to CaraLee934 for being an awesome Beta!

Now, without further ado, I present

Once and Future, Chapter 4: Into the Fire
In which a Warlock meets a Queen who is also Not a Sorceress.

A hundred years of living practically underground had produced a remarkably efficient communication system among the Narnians. A message could get from Cair Paravel to Lantern Waste in less than a day - it only took a few minutes for Lucy to learn of the four strangers, and so she immediately set into action. She had been visiting a family of Black Dwarfs who had lived near the Shuddering Wood since the fall of the White Witch (the family had proven to be invaluable spies for the Narnians, as they were able to pass as servants of the Witch, but at great risk to their own reputation. Even now, ten years later, many of the Narnians who had not been so involved with the resistance efforts thought the family little more than traitorous scum, so Lucy made a point to spend as much time as she could with them). They lived about a mile away from the Dancing Lawn, and were not far out of the way for Edmund

Lucy was helping Neverra, the matriarch of the family, with the laundry when a young Dryad girl rushed into the clearing. "Emrys has come to Narnia!" she exulted in that airy yet gravelly tone common among the tree spirits.

"Emrys?" Lucy asked.

"The one who will bring about the time of Albion!" the Dryad exclaimed with a bow. "If you'll excuse me, Your Grace, I must go tell the others!"

"Albion?" Lucy turned to Neverra. The Dwarf woman shrugged. "I know nothing of the antics of Trees, Little Queen. Perhaps when your royal brother returns, you can ask him." Lucy nodded, knowing that if anyone knew what was going on, it would be Edmund. "Now help me get supplies gathered. You will need bandages, herbs, food. I'll have Jorik and Nikentril hitch up the wagon and prepare it for your journey."

"Oh, thank you, Neverra! I would never have thought of that!"

"I know, Little Queen," Neverra chuckled fondly. Lucy was not known for her foresight - in fact, the Valiant Queen was infamous for acting on impulse. It was one of the traits which had endeared her to her subjects - even after she had come into womanhood, she retained the almost-careless actions of a child.

There are very few creatures who work quite so hard or quite so fast as Dwarfs- especially Dwarfs on a mission. As such, Lucy was ready to depart within the hour. Nikentril had gladly lent his Queen their wagon - one of the only things the family possessed which could just as easily fit a group of Humans as it could a group of Dwarfs - and Neverra had laden it with more supplies than Lucy thought she would ever need. She tied the lead of her own palfrey to the back of the cart so that she could divert her full attention to driving the draft-horse Nikentril had provided.

She gracefully declined the Dwarf's request to accompany her - she knew that there was still much work to be done in their house if they were to be ready for the planting season, and she had no desire to take him any more from his work than she already had. Besides, Lucy had traveled the road she was taking more times than she could count, both alone and with a group. She was more than a match for anyone who dared attack, and in Narnia the Valiant Queen was never far from aid. She pretended not to notice, but she knew that there was always some sort of Guard lurking around, ready to intervene should she need it - and any Narnian passing by would gladly do aid her as well.

She traveled along the muddy road for a little over two hours, and stopped when she heard the jingle of another cart coming around the bend. It was moving much more slowly than her own was - and no wonder, she thought. If it was Edmund, he would be carrying his books and his passengers. The Queen suddenly felt concern for the beast pulling them. It could not be an easy feat, and the horse was likely ready to drop on its feet…

Shaking her thoughts off, she hopped out of the wagon and began to prepare a portable infirmary of sorts for her patients. Just under an hour after the message had been sent, Lucy was on the road with the draft horse lent to her by the Dwarfs, and her roan mare hitched to the back of the cart.

By the time she heard her brother's cheerful call, she had food and medical supplies laid out in the wagon, and had set up pallets for whomever would need them.

"Bring them around here," she said, coming from around the wagon. "I have everything set up."

Edmund was sitting in the driver's seat, with another dark-haired man who looked to be around Edmund's age, maybe a little older. The man eyed her, obviously wary, but Lucy couldn't puzzle over it at the moment.

"Edmund, help get everyone settled in." She set about unhitching the horse, then took him and her two to graze and get a well-earned drink.

Merlin helped the noble - Edmund, his sister had called him - get Arthur and Sir Leon out of the wagon. He noted that if it came to it, the odds would be stacked against them. Merlin didn't dare use his magic here; not after the disappointing experiments from earlier. So he remained tensed, ready to spring into action if needed. He hadn't got a very good look at the queen, as the moment she had told her brother what to do, she had disappeared with the horses.

Merlin waited anxiously for the woman to return. He was a little confused by her actions - surely the horses weren't as important as Arthur's recovery! Couldn't she tell that the prince needed medical attention?

"What is she doing?" he asked Edmund.

"Lucy is doing what Lucy does. She is making sure that everyone under her care is seen to. Don't worry; she won't waste time. Believe me, I've been far worse off than your friend, and she has never let me down. See, here she comes." The man was right - the queen was emerging from the glen into which she had disappeared.

Whatever Merlin had been expecting of Queen Lucy, this wasn't it. She was young; that was the first thing that flashed through the warlock's mind. She couldn't have been older than he. And she looked nothing like what he had imagined a powerful queen to be. She was rather short, with honey-colored hair which was currently pulled back into a braid. She was dressed in a soft kind of cotton made of three or four different shades of blue. Her face was what shocked Merlin the most, though - she looked young. It was more than the appearance of a girl in her youth, though such was true of her. She looked innocent, naïve, and he found himself wanting to shield her from the grisly affair that was Arthur's leg. Merlin could hardly believe that this girl was a queen, much less a sorceress.

That's probably part of her magic, was his initial assumption. But no, he was typically immune to such enchantments. He was a creature of magic; his own magic would fight it. But the warning bells which usually accompanied a magical attack were silent…

"Are you hurt at all?" Queen Lucy asked. "You're the one with the twisted ankle. Anything else wrong?" It took Merlin a moment to realize she was addressing him.

"No, I'm fine." The girl nodded.

"Then you can help me. There's a pot in the wagon - could you and Edmund get started on boiling water?" The two young men shared a glance, then nodded silently. Since the girl had already turned back to her task, she didn't see them, but the question seemed to be rhetorical. She was at the moment working on cutting Arthur's pant leg away with a knife Merlin hadn't seen her draw. The men went about following her orders.

They worked mostly in silence. Edmund suggested that they gather plenty of wood. "There's no telling how long she'll want to stay here, so we should be prepared for anything. Besides, if we stay the night you won't want to be caught alone after dark. Not here." Merlin wondered at this, but said nothing. He wouldn't want to be caught in any wood after dark, particularly not this one. He still didn't know what to make of the obviously magic-infused air.

"Are you sure she knows what she's doing?" the warlock found himself asking. "I mean, it's rather unusual for a queen to be a skilled healer, isn't it?"

"Aye," Edmund laughed, "but Lucy is hardly a usual queen. I think you shall find that Narnia has a very different definition of usual than any other country in Albion." On that point, Merlin agreed wholeheartedly. "Anyway, Lucy is the most talented healer in Narnia. She has been studying the art since she was a child, and she's always had a knack for it. She has the perfect heart for healing."

"I have to admit, she isn't really what I was expecting."

"She never is," the noble chuckled fondly. "I have known her all her life and she still surprises me. Out of curiosity, what were you expecting?" Merlin thought for a moment, and decided it was time to separate myth from fact.

"In Camelot, Narnia is… more a country of legend than reality. I think there are a lot of stories that got embellished in the retelling…"

"What kind of stories?"

"Well," Merlin picked his words carefully. "It was said that Narnia was… enchanted so that it was always winter."

"Always Winter and never Christmas," Edmund muttered. Merlin nodded.

"And that the person responsible was the Queen…"

"And you are worried Lucy is that Queen?" Merlin wondered if he had just made a huge mistake. The last thing he wanted was to offend this nobleman after so much effort had been made on his account. "Well now your hesitation makes much more sense; but have no fear. Narnia was under an enchantment - for a hundred years - but no longer. Lucy is no more a sorcerer than you or I." Merlin almost visibly smirked at the irony, but refrained.

"How was the enchantment broken?" the warlock asked. Edmund frowned.

"I can never tell the story right," he said. "I get all the details jumbled and usually just make it more confusing. Ask Lucy when she gets the time; she is the better bard." Though Merlin now had more questions than answers, he felt satisfied as the two made their way back to camp. At least he could rest assured that his hosts were not maleficent sorcerers or anything like.

"Did you do this?" Queen Lucy asked the moment the two emerged from the trees. Merlin approached the healer, confused.

"Do what?" he asked.

"The bandage. It was well done; do you have any medical training?"

"I live with a physician, so I've picked up on the basics," he replied.

"Excellent - do you know your way around medical supplies?"

"Yes." He had cleaned more of Gaius' things than he cared to think about, and as such he knew what most instruments were called and their basic functions.

"When Edmund gets the fire going, could you boil some yarrow tea? Until then, can you bring me vinegar? It's in the tall jug near the front of the wagon, over there." Merlin found the yarrow and placed it on the tailgate of the cart, before bringing the vinegar to Queen Lucy. "Thank you. Now, do you know how to test a fractured bone? Go over to the man who broke his rib and see what can be done."

Merlin went to Sir Leon, who had already removed his shirt and was concentrating on breathing properly. Both men had been through the procedure often enough, so it only took a few minutes to properly check the ribs. As Merlin had originally predicted, there were no punctured organs; the ribs seemed to only have suffered a minor fracture. By the time he had wrapped Leon's chest, the yarrow tea was ready.

"Edmund, could you get some cups?" As the nobleman went back, Merlin turned to the Queen.

"Now what?" he asked.

"Come over here and watch him. I'm going to check the other man for concussion. When Edmund gets back, try to get him to drink some of the tea. It won't knock him out, but it might relax him enough that he won't be entirely lucid when I cleanse the wound. It will definitely hurt."

Merlin complied, worried for his master. It appeared that Arthur had finally gone into shock. He was unresponsive, hardly even breathing. Queen Lucy had managed to prop his leg up on a small log, and had wrapped the rag around to prevent any more blood loss. Merlin was skilled enough to know that if the wound wasn't closed soon, Arthur would fall completely into unconsciousness, and it wasn't likely he would wake up.

Edmund came back with two earthen cups of tea. "You take one," he instructed. "The other is for Arthur." Merlin nodded and turned his attention to the Prince.

When Queen Lucy had finished with Sir Geraint, she returned to Arthur's side. "Edmund," she called, "can you find me a needle and thread? Neverra packed a kit; I think it is in that large basket. With the bandages. Also, bring me honey."

"Honey?" Merlin asked, shocked. What, she wasn't happy with the taste of her tea? Surely there were more important things to worry about right now!

"For dressing the wound. It helps with disinfection and healing," the Queen said distractedly. "Here, come hold him down. I have to apply the vinegar, and it won't be pleasant." Merlin stored the knowledge for further examination and positioned himself so that he could help Lucy. The girl poured a generous amount of the disinfectant onto Arthur's now-open wound. The prince gasped, instinctively trying to roll away, and it was all Merlin could do to keep him still. Queen Lucy blew gently onto the offending gash in an attempt to soothe the pain. Eventually Arthur stilled once more - just in time for Edmund to bring the supplies his sister had requested.

"Can you sterilize this?" Lucy asked, handing the needle to Merlin. She continued to blow and fan the laceration with her hand, gingerly dabbing the skin around it. "And go ahead and take the bandages out so that they can dry. Hang them over the fire."

"I can do that," Edmund said. "Merlin, you stay and help Lucy. You are probably a better hand than I." Both Merlin and Lucy nodded as the warlock handed the healer a now-sterilized needle.

"Thank you. Could you go ahead and fix some tea for Sir Geraint? He'll need something to help his head. And please make sure Sir Leon is comfortable. They both need to rest."

Half an hour later, Lucy and Merlin had done all they could. Arthur was sleeping ("He'll be doing a lot of that," Lucy said, "until his body has recuperated from the blood loss. And he will be grouchy.") Leon and Geraint had been made as comfortable as possible, and were now sipping on Merlin's yarrow tea.

"I'm Lucy, by the way," the girl said, smiling. "Lucy Pevensie."

"Merlin… your Highness," Merlin was by now completely flabbergasted. He was utterly convinced that Lucy Pevensie was not an evil sorceress - and to tell the truth, he wasn't entirely sure she was a queen, either, no matter what her brother may say.

"Well, Merlin, may I be the first to say, 'Welcome to Narnia!'" Lucy was certainly cheerful, despite present circumstances. Even when she had been treating Arthur, there was none of the grim determination Merlin had witnessed from Gaius. She hadn't really seemed overly worried about any of her patients - she just worked. "Are you hungry?"

"What?"

"Are you hungry? Neverra sent us so much food, I think we could feed a small army. And all of it has been cooked and tastes wonderful warm or cold, so there's no need to reheat it." When he had caught up with this new direction of the conversation, Merlin remembered that none of his party had eaten since… lunch of the day before. As if to reinforce the realization, his stomach chose this moment to let out a growl that would shame a lion.

"I think we all are," he confessed, looking at Leon and Geraint - the latter of whom was starting to nod off.

"Good. You fix your plate - let Edmund and I worry about everyone else."

The entire situation was a strange one. Merlin found himself quite confused by the behavior of the supposed queen and her brother. Neither acted like any of the nobility Merlin had ever met - and a man in his line of work had met plenty.

When at last all of the food had been laid out, Merlin noted that the rest of his company had fallen asleep. Merlin himself was on his last leg, but his desire for food far outweighed his drowsiness.

"There'll be plenty left for them when they wake," Lucy said, noticing the manservant's hesitation. "Here." She handed him a clay plate. "Take your fill. And if you want seconds, go for them. There's good food almost everywhere you look in Narnia." Lucy shared none of Merlin's hesitations. She loaded her plate with whatever took her fancy, and settled on the grass with the food before her. Edmund did the same. Merlin wondered why they hadn't begun eating yet, until he noticed they were waiting for him. Feeling completely out of place, the warlock followed their lead, and soon all three were sitting in a triangle, preparing to eat. Merlin wasn't accustomed to eating with people of higher rank than he - usually, he was serving, and would eat whatever leftovers there were.

The royals ate in earnest, but kept up a conversation. They spoke with a familiarity that even Arthur and Morgana hadn't shared - and since theirs was the only remotely sibling-like behavior Merlin had ever had a chance to witness, he wasn't sure if this was normal or not.

Lucy made sure to keep Merlin included as much as possible. She would often leave a question open for anyone to answer, and as the meal progressed, Merlin began to assert his opinion, and he and Edmund would debate the answer. Lucy seemed to take delight in their conversations, and she laughed often. Merlin decided he liked the sound. It was like the tinkling of little bells or the sighing of the wind. It was gleeful and childish and sweet and light, and it was definitely among the most pleasant sounds he'd ever heard.

"So," she began, this time clearly addressing Merlin, "What brings you to Narnia? Edmund says you came from beyond the Western Mountains."

"We were attacked," Merlin said carefully, unsure of how much he should reveal to these people. Sure, they were friendly now, but would they still be so when they learned that there was a prince under their control?

"By whom?"

"A group of soldiers belonging to King Cenred."

"Ugh. There are very few men I simply loathe," Lucy huffed, "but he - he is worthy of it." Merlin wondered at the sudden venom in Lucy's words. She seemed a generally cheerful soul - what could Cenred possibly have done to earn such a negative opinion from her?

"What did he want with you?" Edmund asked, pointedly ignoring his sister's comment.

"Not sure. His men - well, we did walk into their camp, but we hardly knew that - they ambushed us during the downpour last night."

"Then I suppose I cannot say I blame them," Edmund chuckled. "If someone blundered into my camp in the middle of the night, I would likely react the same way."

"Sure, but they weren't meant to be there in the first place," Merlin pointed out. "They were camped in Camelot."

"Camelot?" Edmund stared at Merlin as if the man had grown another head.

Lucy furrowed her brow, watching her brother.

"You said your companion's name was Arthur?" Edmund asked Merlin, who nodded warily.

"Ed, I think you're scaring our guest..." Lucy shook her brother out of his reverie. Edmund mumbled something under his breath and looked away from the perplexed manservant. Did they know? But Edmund wasn't acting... suspicious, just... confused.

Well, Merlin wouldn't give them away. He turned back to his food began consuming it with renewed gusto.

"This really is the best food I've ever tasted," he said.

"You think this is good, wait till you try the food at Cair Paravel! We eat like this every night!" Lucy's words caused both Merlin and Edmund to pause once more.

"Cair Paravel?" Merlin asked.

"Narnia's capitol," Edmund explained. "Lucy... have you told Susan yet? You know she hates it when you just show up with surprise guests."

"I was going to wait until we got a confirmation. Haven't had a chance to yet."

"Please..." Merlin interrupted. He knew that the group was running late as it stood. Arthur would not approve of their accompanying these strangers - however helpful they had been - to some unknown city, where they would be completely at the mercy of their hosts. "We need to be heading back," he insisted. "We will be missed."

"Well, how far do you have to travel?" Lucy asked. "He needs a bed -" here she indicated Arthur "- and Cair Paravel is only a day's ride East. Less if we cut through the River. Besides, you have no horses. None of them should be walking in their conditions."

Merlin knew all of this, and he knew the dangers of Arthur's leg becoming infected, and he knew that accompanying Lucy - who, queen or not had proved herself a more than competent healer - would be the best option for Aurthur. It was almost four days till they would reach Camelot, and a lot could happen in that time. Still, he didn't want to hand his prince over to two strangers, royal or otherwise.

"I don't want to inconvenience you," he muttered - though, if he had known Queen Lucy the Valiant any better, he would have known that that was the wrong thing to say. "You have both done too much already. I do not want to have a debt we cannot repay."

"Nonsense," Lucy replied. "You would be honored guests! And it would be a nice refreshment to have Human company. Besides stuffy lords who come to test Narnia's weaknesses, or pompous princes trying to court Susan. Believe me, your stay would be nothing short of wonderful, for all of us." Merlin noticed that for a queen, Lucy seemed to pay very little attention to what came out of her mouth. From the grammar structure to the words themselves, she didn't appear to put much thought into what she said. It made her a little more real - at least with this royal, Merlin could tell there was no ulterior motive. Her brother, however...

"The choice is yours," Edmund was saying, trying to repair whatever damage he thought Lucy had caused. "Talk it over with your companions. I apologize; Lucy can be a little... pushy sometimes, without meaning to be. Of course you are welcome to stay in Narnia, but if you decide to make for your own home, we will provide you with an escort to the border."

Merlin thanked the man, glad the pressure was off himself.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Lucy said quietly, as if there was anyone to overhear her. "I didn't mean to back you into a corner." She didn't give him a chance to answer - she smiled at him and rose to check on her patients.

After a while, Merlin began to nod off. He didn't want to go to sleep with the rest of his company so badly off, but he was full and dry and warm, and he hadn't slept at all since the night before last. At Lucy's insistence, he finally lay down on his own pallet and sank into one of the most blissful slumbers he'd ever had.