A/N: I'm sorry for taking such a long time to update! I've been pretty busy lately. I haven't edited this chapter and I'm posting the first version, so feel free to tell me whatever mistakes I've made.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, nothing is mine except for Sairah.

"He ought to have come back by now, if he had had any success."

Nikabrik was scowling even more than usual. Caspian sighed.

"We must bear in mind that many things could have happened on the way. He might have had to avoid Telmarine soldiers."

"Or he could have been killed by them."

Dr. Cornelius shifted uncomfortably. "It is necessary that we remain calm while we wait, and trust that he will come back with help."

"Calm?" the black dwarf's voice rose as he spoke. "Calm? How can I remain calm? How can any of us remain calm? My people are dying. And if they do not die by the swords of Miraz's soldiers, then they will die of hunger while we stay here, huddled together like fools. I cannot remain calm."

"Then what do you propose we do, Nikabrik?" asked Caspian as he drew his fingers through his hair in a tired manner. Once more they were in the central room of Aslan's How, sitting on logs. All but the black dwarf, who was standing, his eyes dark and angry. It was mid-morning, and already the growth of the Telmarine army was evident. The Old Narnians were cornered.

"Try something else. Look somewhere else." His cryptic remark confused them all, and Caspian looked quizzically at him.

"Pattertwig's return has made it obvious that even if anything had come to aid us, then it is dead," Nikabrik stated. "Soldiers have been posted by the Lantern Waste, so what makes you think that they aren't at Cair Paravel?"

"You know that well, Nikabrik," answered Trufflehunter's husky voice. "Cair Paravel is not only surrounded by trees; it is beside the sea."

"But Nikabrik is right in one thing," said Dr. Cornelius with a grimace. "We have no way of knowing whether Trumpkin is alive or dead."

"We can't wait any longer," said the black dwarf, his eyes flashing as he looked at Caspian, who watched him wearily. "Our time is running out, and if we do not find a way to save ourselves soon, by the next full moon we'll be lucky if we are a memory."

And with that, he strode off, leaving the room.

Dr. Cornelius sighed, and Caspian had to hold himself back from doing the same. Trufflehunter, however, stood up, sniffing, and spoke.

"Welcome."

The other two looked up and saw Sairah, who entered the room cautiously and frowned.

"I heard that the squirrel came back," she said in a low voice.

Caspian nodded. "There were soldiers posted around Lantern Waste. They suspected our returning there, for some reason."

She sighed. "Then we must place our hope in Cair Paravel."

There was a silence, and Caspian put his head in his hands. It was a horrible thought: the last King of Narnia. The King who led his people to death. Caspian, the Tenth and the last. He grimaced at his own inability to be more productive, and wondered if all kings had to go through this feeling of complete uselessness.

He lifted his head and looked at those around him. Dr. Cornelius was frowning as he stared at the ground, deep in thought, and Trufflehunter had apparently left the room. Sairah, however, was staring at him strangely.

Her eyes were wide and her expression was strangely unfocused, as if she was not looking at him, but at something from far away, or a memory. As he watched her, Caspian recognized the same pain that he had seen in her the night before, the same haunted expression.

"Lady?" he asked in a low voice. Sairah flinched and her expression disappeared, replaced by her normal serious one.

"Forgive me," she said, looking away. Dr. Cornelius cleared his throat and they all turned to look at him. Looking a bit abashed at the attention, the old man smiled at Sairah.

"Perhaps you would like to see the camp," he suggested.

* * * * * *

The faun's hooves ran lightly over the stone as he hurried towards Sairah. A faint smile appeared on her face in response to his vide grin.

"I can show you around, if you like," he offered, bowing. She nodded, and followed him out into the sunlight.

The camp was an interesting place. Tents of all sizes were strewn across the grass, and all manner of people and beasts ran about, working, resting or talking. There were tiny mice and a great giant, and creatures of every manner and size. However, Sairah quickly realized that this was most certainly not an ideal army, for it was small in comparison to Miraz's army, and it was evident that (with the possible exception of Glenstorm's family and the mice) they were not trained in battle.

They watched her curiously as she went, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the grass. They looked thin and tired, but in spite of that she could clearly see that they would lay their lives down for Narnia's freedom.

The faun with the brown hair that was guiding her was watching her curiously as well, and she fell into step beside him as he spoke.

"I am Aureius," he said, and she introduced herself, though there was probably no need to, since word of who she was had reached the entire camp the day before.

"Where you at the last battle?" he asked abruptly. His question was said in a low voice, and he faltered slightly as her dark eyes turned to look at him.

There was a pause before she spoke. "Yes, I was." Aureius' eyes widened as he realized how old she must be, and she continued: "It was a terrible battle. The Telmarines went to kill, not to take prisoners. We were not aware that their army was past our borders until a few hours before, and they fell upon us when we hardly had enough to fight. They had always pretended to be our allies." She sighed as they passed a group of black dwarves, who eyed them warily as they hammered. "My sisters and I destroyed two of their ships, but it was too late. We could hear their dying screams from miles away."

The faun was silent, a horrified frown on his face. "How terrible," he finally said, "I have heard the story told by my grandfather, but never have I met someone who was actually there. It is an honor to meet you.'

"And I am honored to meet you all as well."

Time passed quickly that day, but more Telmarine soldiers grouped at the foot of the hill. Caspian, Dr. Cornelius and some others sat together for many hors, planning their strategy and trying to ignore the horrible feeling of foreboding that filled their hearts.

No one had come.

Nikabrik had wandered off at midday, saying he would return soon, and the black dwarves grumbled even more, angry with Caspian and what they called 'his incompetent reign'.

Sairah spoke to many of the fauns and centaurs; listening to what had happened in the years she had slept past. Tales of oppression and death, mostly, telling of attempts to win back Narnia that ended in tragedy. It did not lift her spirits, unsurprisingly, and she felt tired. When Nikabrik returned, bringing two silent and cloaked figures in tow, she shivered and left the cave to help a badger in his patrol around the camp. She knew that she would be of no use in the matter that Nikabrik meant to present to Caspian, whatever it was.

The camp was silent, and the forlorn figures of many creatures could be seen sitting alone or in groups around fires, exhausted. It was only after some minutes that an argument broke out between the talking mice and the black dwarves, both groups that had been in a foul mood throughout the day. The mice threatened to use violence and the dwarves responded in kind, and nothing they could do seemed to calm them. The badger remained, to go looking for Glenstorm, while Sairah tiredly made her way back to the cave in Aslan's How to see Caspian. They all knew that he would be the only one that would be able to calm the mice.

There were low voices in the room as she approached it. A foul smell seemed to be seeping out of the door, and Sairah frowned. Surely Nikabrik had not done anything rash?

She opened the door slowly. Many people were sitting inside, and there seemed to be bodies on the floor. But Sairah only turned to Caspian, saying: "Caspian, a fight has broken out between the talking mice and the black dwarves. They need you to calm them."

Caspian groaned, and touched his arm gingerly. There was a bandage on it, and Sairah gazed horrified at the ground. There was what seemed to be a werewolf lying dead, and a very ugly woman that could only be a hag. What had happened?

Dr. Cornelius followed the King out without a word, eyeing Caspian's bleeding arm worriedly. Trufflehunter stayed, clapping a red dwarf on the shoulder in a friendly way.

Sairah stared. The dwarf was Trumpkin. Her eyes turned slowly to the two boys beside him.

The first had dark brown hair and black eyes that were shining with joy. The second had light brown hair and brown eyes that were staring at her in shock. Both had an air of nobility about them.

Edmund.

Peter.

She gasped.

Yay! My first cliffie! Please, read and review :)