Sooo, this chapter really got away from me. I read through it and really don't like this beginning bit. There is a lot I need to address during this book (LWW), and I really don't have any clear outline for it all, so it all sounds like the idea-spewing I do when I write a paper. I didn't even realize it was this length, I thought I had so much more space to write more... oh well.

Ok, I'm going to say this now because I might forget later. I LOVE William Moseley to pieces (socutesocutesocutesocute) but his character in the movies is so timid at first, and then he's just an arrogant jerk in PC. Like come on, you fall in love with the book version Peter because he's young and confident and charismatic... phew, so sexy.

So yes, this fanfic is book-based. I reference the series a lot, probably more than I should. And I've been rereading a lot of the books, so I'm sorry if the style has become as vague and similar as CS Lewis'.

Well, Jack gets the credit, as usual.


Lucy flopped onto the bed she had just been told was hers. "Oh, how wonderfully bouncy and soft it is!" she exclaimed, getting to her knees to hop lightly across the mattress.

Susan appeared in the doorway of the closet, holding a bundle of lacy dresses encrusted with precious stones in her arms. "Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?"

She held up one dress then another to Lucy's frame. "Why, Lu, I do believe all these clothes are exactly your size."

"How are you settling in?" asked a melodic voice from the bedroom entrance. Both princesses turned to see Robecca against the doorframe, standing for the first time since they met her without Aslan clutched in her arms.

The girls stood up and respectfully bowed their heads. "It's wonderful, Your Majesty," said Susan.

Robecca's answer was a scoff as she flounced across the room and plopped onto the bed. "My name is Robecca, and protocol isn't followed amongst friends. Go on and sit."

Susan and Lucy climbed hesitantly onto the blanket with her.

"How do you like your room?" Robecca asked Lucy.

"It's lovely," Lucy answered at once, looking around at the large space trimmed in forest green and filled with comfy chairs and a small vanity. "Although I wish it were violet," she said absently.

"Hush Lucy," said Susan quickly.

"But you said yourself that green was your favorite color." She looked at Robecca to explain. "My favorite color is violet."

"What type of violet?" Robecca asked, not looking at all offended.

"Like… like the clouds in the east during sunset in summer."

The bedspread they were sitting on was blooming a stain of lavender even as she spoke. The draperies, bed curtains and carpet took on similar shades until the entire room, that had been bright green mere seconds ago, was now trimmed in blue-violet.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Lucy exclaimed, clapping her hands together as she looked around the new surroundings.

"And your room shall be green," Robecca told Susan, smiling brilliantly.

"Oh, thank you, Robecca. So much." Susan bowed her head a little in gratitude. As she was lifting it, her eye caught the red gleam of the pendant around Robecca's neck.

"Oh my, what a beautiful necklace," Susan remarked, staring at the large ruby. She wondered how she had missed it on Robecca before. It was a very obvious piece. Even though it was lying against Robecca's bright red dress, it still stood out in its diamond outline.

"Thank you," Robecca replied, touching the stone and watching Susan closely, but the girl had no trouble turning her head away when she heard a sound at the door.

The boys were standing in the doorway with Mr. Tumnus, looking around Lucy's room.

"Say Lu, wasn't this room green when we first saw it?" asked Edmund, stepping further into the room with Peter right behind him.

They were both wearing pristine new tunics and shiny boots. Their hair was brushed and their faces washed clean. They must have been using the accommodations in their own rooms.

"Looking sharp, are they not?" asked Mr. Tumnus when he saw the girls regarding the boys' new appearance.

"Oh come Lucy, we must get dressed too," said Susan, holding up the dresses she had set on the bedspread and trying to decide which one would look best on her little sister.

Robecca and Lucy gave nearly identical groans and fell onto the pillows of the bed in unison.

"Must we?" asked Lucy.

"Yes, must we? Edmund looks like he's going to wiggle right out of his new clothes," Robecca whined along with her.

Edmund quit fiddling with the cuff sleeve. It wasn't particularly itchy, he just was not used to wearing this style of clothes and it still felt awkward.

"I do not believe your majesties will be needed for anything else this evening, but I shall report to Aslan, nonetheless," said Mr. Tumnus, and quickly took his leave.

"Then we have hours to fill," commented Edmund.

Robecca jumped up suddenly. "I have an idea. Let's go explore the beach! Then it won't matter if we wear nice things or not," she announced.

The other children looked at her incredulously.

"B-But... won't anyone miss us?" asked Lucy.

Robecca smiled and the sunlight in the room increased. "I believe you have all deserved a little free time. Besides, we have yet to greet the merfolk. Come along."

So the four children found themselves following Robecca down a back stairway. The door at the bottom of the stairs opened onto the beach at the foot of the castle. It did not take long for the children to remove their footwear and wade into the waters.

The merfolk were not visible, but Robecca told them they would come once they heard them splashing about. It was all the encouragement Edmund and Lucy needed to inspire a water fight. The older children exclaimed in false terror and returned fire. Soon they were trading off running from each other and attacking amidst squeals of delight.

Sometime during the excitement, Robecca trudged out of the water to the beach to catch her breath. She was still regaining her mortal strength and was disappointed that she tired so easily. This was the most fun she had had in a while, even counting her life before her enchanted sleep.

Wiping some of the water from her face, she listened to the laughter coming from the children and felt another wave of tender affection for them. In many instances, she appeared to be similar their age, but her aching limbs were proof enough that she was far from that. Many lifetimes had passed before her eyes, making her older beyond the years of her body. Her goddess' memories were hazy, but it was obvious she felt every mortal year weighing upon her.

Nonetheless, her sore legs and arms felt wonderful. It meant that she was alive, awake again after wasting so many years in oblivion.

Feeling the soft sand under her, and letting if fall through her sifted fingers, seemed like the greatest pleasure in the world. She didn't realize how much she had missed her mortal body while trapped in her goddess essence. Smelling the sea breeze and feeling the oncoming evening wind were a delight to her awakened senses.

Indeed, she felt like she was being born anew after her long sleep. Her memories of her life before seemed just as cloudy and unreal, like a dream she had been passing through, as her goddess life. Now she was feeling all the joys of living and appreciating them for the first time.

Or maybe she was finally falling under the spell of wonder that mortal life was casting upon her. But as a Daughter of Eve, it truly did not matter what else she did or did not enjoy while living this life. Robecca was resolved to never take for granted the simple pleasures of mortal life again during the rest of her sentence.

While she sat on the sand bar, contemplating her new position and watching the others continue to frolic, Peter made his way towards her. She could tell it was him even with the oncoming darkness hindering her weak eyes; his radiant presence was too powerful to mistake.

"May I join you?" he asked.

Robecca nodded and he sat down on the sand beside her. Both of them sat in silence watching the others. Strangely, Robecca felt content in a way she had not felt for a long time, and it was not just because Jadis was vanquished and her prophecy children were here at last to bring about an era of peace. It was because she could feel another soul besides her own.

It was another thing she had not realized she had been lonely for. The presence of other humans, feeling them breathe Narnia's air and setting her Father's magic to rights, was a balm to her own crudely fashioned soul. And Peter's shone so brilliantly that while sitting so close to him, she was all but basking in the glare.

Peter couldn't sit quiet for long beside Robecca. He had been waiting almost two days for a moment when they could finally talk in private. He had far too many questions for this girl, but now that they were alone-- as alone as possible-- he didn't know where to begin.

"Where is Aslan?" he asked her at last.

"Probably informing the others of the proper protocol and procedure of a coronation, and making any other necessary arrangements," she said nonchalantly, almost humming the words to herself.

"And you don't need to be there?"

Robecca turned her deep blue gaze to him for a moment. Her expression was dreamy and it almost took his breath away. "Aslan is more... relatable to Narnia's children," she answered. "I was put in charge of you children."

She smiled apologetically, and even that type of smile was enough to make the setting sun glow brighter. Peter did not feel affronted at all; it made sense that Aslan could speak to the creatures of the forest and Robecca would be spending time with the humans.

"You were the one who prophesized that we would come to Narnia one day, weren't you?" he asked tentatively.

"Yes," she answered simply, her fingers reaching up to fiddle with her necklace. Peter gaze darted to her hand when it moved, but quickly looked back to her face.

"How did you know?" he pressed.

She was looking curiously at him, tilting her head as if he were a puzzle she was trying to figure out. Her head dipped down to look at the necklace in her hands and Peter waited while she collected her thoughts, wondering what answer she would give.

But several quiet seconds went by and she didn't speak. Then she smiled secretly at him, and turned her mischievous smirk back to the sea.

She obviously was not going to answer that question, so Peter tried a different approach. "Why did you know that it was going to be us? What made us so special?"

"Because you are special. You were meant to come to Narnia and be the kings and queens." She gave him a sidelong look. "You can't tell me you don't feel it was fated to happen. Why are you asking questions you already know the answers to?"

Because he couldn't ask her the questions he wanted!

He wanted to ask her about his dreams, why he already knew her before laying eyes on her, and why he had been chosen for this task. He wished she could be the girl he knew from his dreams, the one he could easily converse with as if they were old friends. Right now, he was tongue-tied and couldn't even determine the cause for his nervousness.

"Organize your thoughts, High Prince," she said comfortingly when she saw him growing frustrated, "and then I'll tell you whatever you want as soon as you know what that is."

Her voice was so soothing it quelled his worries instantly. Not even her slightly patronizing intent could annoy him, for it was her given right to be the matron mentor of everyone who lived in Narnia. It was her job to comfort, protect, and love everything of this world. Everyone, Aslan included, depended on her for guidance and support. In many ways, he realized, she was the mother of all her mortal children.

It was probably why he found her so appealing, she made him feel as loved and content as if he had been a small child consoled by his mother. It could be the only explanation of why he felt so drawn to her.

But he knew that was only the surface emotion. Each of his siblings and all new friends felt that way about Robecca, as if they could trust her whole-heartedly to protect them from any threat. He felt like that too, but there was more to the adoration.

As powerful as he knew she was, everything about her called out to him as... vulnerable.

Maybe it was the way her small shoulders were drooping, or the fact that she was shivering from her wet clothes, but there was something about her that made him want to gather her up in his arms and protect her from all the dangers of the world.

To him, she was just a little girl, younger than him and in need of her own guardian. He couldn't seem to see passed this ordinary visage. Peter knew better than anyone that she was perfectly capable of defending herself, but even Lucy seemed less helpless than she.

Robecca was silent as Peter was pondering this. She herself was thinking about the way he easily dismissed the Royal Heart's magic. Even his sister, Susan, had shown a moment's interest before. This boy, who shined as much as Aslan had described, seemed immune to the stone's call. That, coupled with his easily wielding of the Sword of Truth, was a true testament of the spirit within his soul.

It was no wonder she had been able to link to him in his own world. And it certainly explained why his glow seemed to warm her through and through. She was as drawn to his beautiful soul as a mortal would be to the Royal Heart.

In truth, the comfort of being near him was almost healing in its power. It was like she had been thinking before, about being in dream during her whole life and only now feeling the wonders of humanity. His presence seemed to magnify that sensation.

"Robecca, you have been High Queen for a while, right?" Peter interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes."

"What's it like? Is it … difficult?" he asked tentatively.

Robecca tried to catch herself from laughing at his question, but could not help a chuckle. "You fearlessly run to confront the Wolf chief and a soulless enchantress, but you stop and ask if kingship is hard?"

Peter tried not to blush. He was not going to let a simple girl make him feel embarrassed. "Then tell me, what exactly to kings do? I've never trained or learned anything for this position, you know."

Robecca had already softened her amused response. Peter was as skeptic about his abilities as King Frank had been. But of course, having not known his whole life that he was destined for king would make anyone uncertain. Even she had felt that way when she had been told she would be given Narnia.

"First of all, kings rarely do anything as exciting as overthrow witches," Robecca responded, taking a moment to think. "They preside over populations and ceremonies, give banquets, make decisions, issue judgments, collect taxes, spend money, go to war, make peace with diplomats, produce heirs, and hand out rewards for feats of courage and valor."

Just like King Frank, Peter had been chosen because her Father had fashioned him in leadership, charisma, cleverness, and just enough humility to keep him selfless. There was no doubt that he had been born for this role.

"It seems like an awful lot of work to do for four people, let alone one," Peter said softly.

Robecca turned to look directly at him, both pairs of their blue eyes meeting each other, and Robecca felt that mysterious click again. It was not something she recognized, and it did not seem in any way threatening, so she let it slip from her mind.

"Being king, or queen, is the easiest job in the world if you know how to do it right," she answered. "You reacted accordingly when you saw the Witch strike down your brother, and that's all it takes to protect your Narnia children. Love your subjects as fiercely as your family, Peter, and then knowing how to defend and guide them comes naturally."

She turned her glorious smile on Peter again. "And you were chosen by fate because you already know you will protect Narnia to the best of your ability. And I believe your best will truly rule Narnia the way it is meant to be."

Peter dipped his head, humbled by her faith. He didn't want to let this girl down-

No, this Lady, he corrected himself. It wouldn't do for him to keep thinking of her as his vulnerable sunshine girl.

She was a queen, a goddess, and mother of an entire nation. Although he might wish she was his own dream girl, she had just explained to him in small words that she considered all her people children. She had even called his siblings and himself children. It quite obvious she saw him as another child for her to protect.

But she just seemed so small and defenseless ...

"Now may I ask you something," inquired Robecca.

He raised his gaze to hers again. "Of course."

"How did you get into Narnia?"

Peter was taken aback, he hadn't even thought about his own world for several days. "Through the wardrobe... the wardrobe in Professor Kirke's home."

Robecca continued to look at him, apparently as puzzled as he was with the vague answer. "It must have been a magic wardrobe," he speculated. "And now that I think about it, it was a peculiar wardrobe. The wood seemed to not be quite cherry or maple, and it was far too polished and dusted for an underused old wardrobe."

"Who is Professor Kirke?" Robecca asked. "A friend of your parents?" 'And why does he have a magic wardrobe?'

"No, we were staying at his estate because the air raids had made London too dangerous for the children. The government thought the war wouldn't reach into the countryside."

Robecca stopped playing with the sand in her hands. She didn't know what an air raid was, but it had to be some sort of attack. But Peter had mentioned a war… and suddenly it was hard for her to breathe.

It couldn't be...

"Were the raids truly that bad?" she tried fishing.

"Not as bad as France or Belgium, I've heard. But at night, you could still hear the far-off explosions. And the crumbled buildings were still smoking the next day," said Peter gravely, remembering some of the terrible memories.

He was worried about his mother having to stay behind in that mess. There was no telling what might be happening to her now. And who knew what had become of his father. He could be dead in some muddy trench and Peter and his siblings would never know.

Robecca didn't miss his worried expression, knowing he must be thinking of all the friends left behind in his world. It made the squeeze around her heart even tighter.

She reached over and laid a hand on his knee, her touch sending tranquility and reassurance to him. His shoulders visibly relaxed as the problems of a different world were pushed to the back of his mind. Robecca only wished it were that easy to comfort herself.

Peter's words were echoing in her head. "war,... explosions, ... crumbled buildings,... too dangerous..."

Her whole offense, the original purpose Narnia had been created, was because her Father and brother had once predicted that her actions in Peter's world would cause a war that would lead to the greatest loss of human life in history.

Could this be the war they foretold? Was it her fault that the home Peter knew and loved was in danger?

England, France, and Belgium were all countries she had seen many times during her training in Father's world. They were lovely places with wonderful people, and it was hard to imagine they were all in the middle of a war. She didn't dare ask Peter which other nations might be involved. She cowardly didn't want to know the extent of the misfortune her actions had brought about.

Guilt swamped her as she continued to think on the subject. Her Father had been right all along: she knew nothing of dealing with unpredictable humans. Peter's own family was in jeopardy because she had violated the Law of Interference.

It was because of her blunder that a war had broken out. Her fault that the children had been sent away from their parents… to a country estate that harbored a magic wardrobe to Narnia?

That made Robecca pause.

The children of her dreams had been sent away-- because of her-- to a place with a portal to Narnia… and all by coincidence?

She was a goddess, there were no such thing as coincidence.

A wooden wardrobe came from a tree that knew the way to Narnia? But nothing had ever left Narnia since its creation. The immigrants from the other worlds stumbled accidently into Narnia over the centuries. But once they were here, they never went back, no matter how much they did or didn't wish to.

Only she or Aslan could make doors out of this world. Jadis obviously could not or she would have left long ago. So how had a magical tree get out of Narnia-

Ahh.

After all, it had been on her brother's orders that she had given that fruit to Digory all those years ago. Her Father's magic had undermined her yet again, creating a portal for these children to enter Narnia… which never would have happened if she hadn't caused the war in the first place.

Robecca's mind kept turning that loop around. It all was connected and circling around somehow. Had this been her Father's plan all along? Was she supposed to have Interfered all those years ago? Or had her Father created this destiny out of her error?

For that matter, was anything she did truly of her own making and the consequences her own to deal with? That hardly seemed like a credible circumstance, it was far too unpunishable.

But then again, she had caused a war for her prophecy children to appear, and paid with the lives of Narnians for this new freedom. Even if it had been meant to be, the price of the future was a heavy one.

"Look!" Peter suddenly exclaimed, breaking her out of her thoughts.

He was pointing to the sea. Several long green tails were splashing the water at the laughing Edmund and Lucy. The two younger ones tried running through the water, but fast trails of bubbles and musical giggles followed in their wake and cut off their escape.

"It seems the mermaids have taken Susan's side," remarked Robecca, her wayward thoughts forgotten.

Peter jumped up, amazed at the half-human creatures that were jumping out of the water. They seemed to be a school of children themselves, eager to play with the two-leggers. Susan was already working with them to surround Edmund and Lucy, who had been gaining up on her unfairly ever since Peter and Robecca had deserted her.

"Come on! You still have to introduce us to them," Peter told Robecca, grabbing her hand and pulling her as he ran back out to the surf.

Robecca stared down at the hand clutched around hers in astonishment.

No one grabbed her, or pulled her around. Ever.

She had been raised as a Daughter of Eve, but a clear distinction had always set her apart from her adopted brothers and sisters. Others only touched her with reverence, and as little as possible, believing this was the respectful thing to do.

Peter was treating her like she was just any other Daughter of Eve. Like one of the girls he would know at school who wouldn't think twice about being dragged toward the fun. And Robecca was anything but.

She was very aware of the contrast between his coarse skin and her satin hand. Calluses on his palm rubbed against her smooth skin. Those blisters must have arisen in just the last few days, earned by the pommel of his sword in the fight for Narnia.

Still, his grip was human skin she hadn't felt in centuries. And it was warm and friendly, and not at all unpleasant, so a small part of her couldn't help but welcome his hand. But overall, she wasn't quite sure what to make of his improper gesture.

The moment was significant enough to her, but it lasted only the few seconds it took for her and Peter to reach the waist deep water.

"Watch out! They have excellent aim," Edmund called. He was thoroughly drenched by now, not even caring that his new clothes were soiled with salt water. The girls' dresses were in just as sorry a state.

Their game had lured them out to the deep waters. Lucy was struggling to keep her head above the waves at this distance from shore, but her new friends were kindly holding her up as they continued the water fight. The mermaids' wordless smiles were friendly and trusting, and they certainly weren't about to let the young princess go down.

Robecca looked around at the half-drowned royals and another wicked idea occurred to her. Breaking the rules and tradition sounded completely appropriate given the new sense of freedom and fun she was feeling. Pulling her hand from Peter's, she took a breath and dove under the waves.

"Where did she go?" asked Susan when Robecca didn't reappear. They were not worried she would drown when their new friends were zipping gracefully around their legs, but she had been the first of them to submerge her head and finally get her hair wet. Once that happened, you couldn't call what they were doing merely shallow wading anymore, it was full-on swimming.

The surface of the water exploded as another mermaid jumped from the waves, scattering beads of water droplets that caught the sun and turned them to flecks of gold. The mermaid had long yellow hair, and instead of wearing seaweed and shelled clothing like the others, her top half was covered in a bright red shirt.

It was Robecca.

Her head popped up again and she smiled winningly at the children. "Come on," she called playfully to them.

Susan gave a shocked gasp. Edmund cried out as he slipped and his footing disappeared beneath him. Indeed, all the children's footing-- and feet-- vanished. For they all now sported long scaly tails where their legs had been a moment before.

"We- we're mermaids!" Lucy cried out excitedly. She quickly dived under and jumped out of the water, glad to be able to move in the water without the others' aid.

She giggled delightedly and came up smiling. The others too soon overcame the shock and started seeing the fun that could be had with these tails. They dove into the waves and chased each other to the deeper waters. Robecca swam along beside them, her Diamond Smile seeming to have the same effect on the underwater world as it did on land.

The children's laughter couldn't be heard underwater, but their smiles were almost as bright as Robecca's as they swam in loops and jumped out of the water, droplets creating dancing spirals in the fading sunlight. The water aerobics they preformed would have put any gymnast to shame, even if they weren't as agile and talented as the real leaping merfolk.

It was later that night, when it was very dark, that the children swam back to the beach. Then, tailless, completely salt-free and dry, they returned to their rooms and slept soundly all night.


It was late the next evening. Tiny lights flittered about the grand assembly room, chasing the merry musical notes that darted through the air and delighted the gathered guests. The excitement was dying down for the night after a full day of momentous occurrences, but it was evident that the rejoicing would start right back up in the morning and continue on for several days thereafter.

Several mothers had led their droopy-eyed children away to some of the many guestrooms the castle Cair Paravel provided, but many were still sitting or dancing about, listening to the soothing music coming from the scattered lutes and pipes. The atmosphere had become one which is shared by good friends and good wine when there is nothing one needs not feel content about.

It had truly been a long time since any of them had felt this type of overwhelming sense of peace, and a few were reluctant to leave the grand hall for fear this evening may turn out to be a wondrous dream. But all it took was a reassuring glance about the room to guarantee that the evil influence of the soulless White Witch was truly gone.

The crowns and tiaras of the new monarchs could be seen every so often out of the corner of everyone's eyes, catching the candlelight and making it dance in twinkling glimmers. Everyone was full and tired after feasting and dancing and playing all day. Their throats were sore from calling cheers all afternoon and taking part in the traditional songs that had not been heard in Narnia for generations. Many lounged or dozed in the assorted chairs and simply surveyed the grand hall.

Under the rainbow fairy lights, King Edmund was trying to teach Queen Lucy a waltz, and laughing encouragingly with her every time she stepped on his foot. He patiently attempted to match his long strides to her small steps, trying to make them appear as graceful and flawless as Peter and Susan, who were sweeping effortlessly across the ballroom. But, alas, it all seemed to be in vain as Lucy kept tripping over her new shoes. Nonetheless, both brother and sister were immensely enjoying themselves.

Their movements were regarded from a sleepy alcove of a bower of pillows. Robecca ran her hand through Aslan's mane as the great lion reclined in her lap. Her own silver tiara glittered atop her curls, which were only outshined in the flickering candlelight by Aslan's golden coat.

He seemed to almost be asleep, or least far too content and relaxed to be conscious, but his thoughts were most aware as he and Robecca exchanged memories and thoughts. His eyes were following the younger king of Narnia.

"You were right, Robecca."

"Of course I was."

"The Son of Adam is already so much better."

"I know."

There really was no need for them to put their thoughts into form for each other; their minds were so similarly in tune. The future was bright this night. The menace that had threatened them for so long was gone at last. They were together again, and they had the rest of a lifetime to make up for all the lost time.

A squeal came from across the room. Queen Lucy was being lifted off the ground by her big brother, High King Peter, and twirled around with her feet dangling in the air. They were both grinning so broadly that the shine of their expressions matched their new crowns.

As solemn as the children had been through the proceedings, it was this playful nature that had been ready to burst beneath their respect exteriors. Remembering the way they whooped and frolicked last night, Robecca decided she would like it better if these honorable-looking monarchs never lost that in frivolity.

The musicians struck up a lively tune to accompany King Peter's quick spinning, and others who had wandered off returned to the dance floor with renewed vigor. Soon you could hear clapping paws and tapping hooves keeping time with the music. Laughter and cheers floated around the dancers, moving their feet in awkward and entertaining combinations that no one bothered to correct.

Robecca regarded the High King as he twirled around with the youngest queen, her mind recalling the moment a few hours ago when he had knelt before her. Taking the last and largest crown from a dwarf mason, Robecca had set it upon his bowed head. Then she reached for the Sword of Truth and returned it to him, setting it into his outstretched hands.

Peter had taken the blade and vowed to her that he would use it to protect Narnia to the best of his ability for the rest of his days. Then before she had the chance to curtsy to the new kings and queens as a vow of her own fealty, he had winked at her, as if they were sharing a private joke right in the middle of his solemn oath.

Robecca did not know what to think of it. She had never had a private joke with a mortal before. Plenty of secrets, of course, but not one so playful.

'They will do well,' Aslan consented, not hearing her personal thoughts. He was still watching the Peter's and Lucy's awkward dancing. 'So, you never did tell me what magic you worked for the children last night.'

Robecca giggled and remembered their games off the shores of Cair Paravel. If Aslan disapproved, he didn't show it. He trusted Robecca knew what was best when it came to humans.

"Come along. It's time we took our leave." Robecca wrapped her arms around Aslan and pulled him out of the room with her, both of them floating off into a cloud of mist.

Together they floated on the night winds across the sea, in no rush at all to get to their destination. Robecca felt the star sprites casting their light and let the glow brush over her being. Gulls and migrating birds flew by them, sensing their presence and instinctively trying to follow the warmer breeze they rode. Aslan sent them back to their islands before they got to far away from land.

When they at last arrived on their mountain paradise on the eastern horizon, Robecca crumbled into the velvet-soft grass and felt no motive to move. Aslan lay down beside her and she rolled her head onto his furry coat, finding a comfortable spot. They both sighed and Aslan began purring.

"I never thought we would be here together again like this," she whispered. "So many, many years…"

"All will be alright now," he said, settling his head on his paws. "The wait will have been worth it."

"Yes. We will finally see our world as it was meant to be," she agreed. Maybe she could even mold those Calormen and Telmarines into civilized humans. Anything seemed possible with the prophecy children gleaming with their pure souls from their castle on the sea and sending weakness into malicious hearts.

United, there didn't seem to anything they couldn't accomplish.

Already a powerful force:

Edmund with his cleverness,

Susan with her compassion,

Lucy with her kindness,

and Peter...

Peter with his intuition and strength and courage…

His leadership, combined with the power of his siblings' hearts, would make everything they did a golden success.

"It does not seem you will be able to get your full share of them anytime soon," Aslan teased in response to her adoring thoughts.

"I doubt a thousand years of their adept rule will undo all the damage Jadis has caused, but they will surely begin the rebuilding process. Our Narnia will never be the innocent it was at birth, but they will guide our people toward the best future possible," she replied.

Then her mind began racing with all the many things that needed to be done. They had to recall the Archenland descendants from their refugee home on Galma, seek out the Witch's creations still in hiding, reclaim the eastern isles, establish the new diplomatic relations with Tashaban, commission new public works, and especially…

"All which can be done a later time," Aslan said drowsily.

"It seems an awful lot to accomplish," she mused, her thoughts running parallel to Peter's the night before. She admitted that his concerns deserved some credit. She was suddenly wondering, for all the energy and spirit the children possessed, would they really give the reconstruction the jumpstart it needed?

The children had been given to her world, and she knew they would be here for many years. Already she sensed the air in this realm robbing them of their youth. They would grow older, have lovely children of their own to inherit their thrones, and then, they would pass on to the next plane. Just like everyone else she had ever met in this world, they would die while she remained.

Aslan sensed her sadness. "I'll still be here," he reassured her.

Robecca set her hand upon his head to convey her love at his comfort, but she was examining her sadness, greatly puzzled by it. Never had anything felt like this before, the crushing weight of depression. She knew this was the way of things, the rules of her punishment, and she had always bitterly accepted it before. She had watched countless beloved faces grow old and felt their souls pass out of her world. Centuries of practice, and she had never gotten used to saying good-bye to her friends.

But now, with her prophecy children, she felt a very deep-set regret and melancholy, and she could not account for it. It couldn't be that she felt attached to them because they were they only humans she had seen after so many years. Maybe it was the gratitude and keen loyalty she gave to them for finally usurping Jadis.

But it couldn't be that, this was pain like none other she had ever felt. What could it be? Some other human emotion she had developed? Maybe what they called hero-worship?

Maybe that was it. That was why the thought of staying young while watching the children grow old seemed unbearable. Another human weakness she had acquired: fearing the loss of loved ones and they would be gone forever-

Gone forever? How ridiculous!

Honestly, just look at the strain her thoughts were taking these days! Just like a regular mortals'! Was she forgetting everything she had ever known in her life before Narnia?

Gone forever. As in never meeting again and lost for eternity?

Of course she knew better.

And this was a part of her sentence, which she had accepted wholeheartedly long ago. So why had these particular children pushed her over yet another edge and deeper into the abyss of mortality?

If this kept up, she would never regain her goddess personality when this was over.


"I'm just suggesting, it would not hurt to begin considering applicants for judicial positions. Then we would not have to be put out to travel so far for these legal proceedings. The sooner they begin their training, the better for us," Peter told Edmund riding at his side.

Edmund eased the reigns on his horse slightly so he could lean in toward his brother. This way the others would not hear his un-kingly words. "Right, Peter, that's just what we need everyday, more lessons," he rolled his eyes.

"These journeys to trial and judge prisoners still loyal to the White Witch are the only reason we get out anymore. I prefer spending several days outside the palace than inside it learning historical dates and strange languages," Edmund groaned.

"Oh come. It's not all disinteresting facts."

"True, but it's so boring to flitter away daylight hours. Winter's coming on, you know."

Peter shuddered with mock horror and Edmund laughed. While it was true that many Narnians were skeptic and unwelcoming of their first winter without the White Witch, the shortening days were indication that nature would go on no matter what they wanted.

"It would make these journeys less harsh on her," Peter said, solemn again. His eyes strayed behind them to the procession of centaurs and mounts following the kings' lead along the forest trail.

Robecca was walking along side the mounts of young Lord Dar and Darien of Archenland, who were attempting to persuade her to ride their horses. Peter felt a small spark of irritation at the way they were fawning over her. He could have told them just how worthless their pleas were; no matter where they travelled, Robecca always preferred to walk rather than ride. Her feet never seemed to get weary even on the coarsest of gravel.

"Has the High Queen complained?" Edmund immediately questioned.

"You know she would never, but I can sense it… when she speaks. Especially after these particularly extreme rulings," Peter responded.

"If the justice is too harsh for her, then she would not attend," said Edmund simply. "She knows we are perfectly capable of carrying out her verdicts."

Peter did not seem to hear him. His teeth gnashed together as he watched Robecca slip her tiny foot into Lord Darien's cupped hands and climb upon his steed. She must have finally given into his urges, maybe just to stop him from pleading annoyingly. But it still rankled Peter; Robecca had never given into him when he had tried to do something courteous for her.

Now she was sitting upon Sampson, Darien's horse, and chatting friendlily with some of the other mounted Archenland noblemen and their horses. It must have been his eyes deceiving him, because he thought he saw the men gawking at the choker Robecca wore.

If he had been looking closer over the last few months, he would have realized they were always coveting some piece of the jewelry she wore. But Peter's eyes skipped over the Royal Heart so effortlessly that its splendor was lost on him. It was not the same with the Archlenland sons.

About two months ago, the descendents of the exiled Archenland citizens had arrived. Every Son of Adam that had gotten off their ships had taken one look at Archenland and Narnia, the magical homeland of their grandfathers, and not one had decided to go back to their adopted home of Galma.

At first, the four monarch children had been excited to meet humans other than themselves in Narnia. But it soon became evident that their company wasn't any different than that of any other talking raven or centaur, so the friendships that had formed were not any stronger just due to their similar race. At least their arrival had meant the children monarchs were not the rarest species in Narnia anymore.

The young king of the Archenland sons, King Lune, had been content enough to settle in the castle of his forefathers and take up the matters considering the creatures and humans in Archenland's borders. Both Lune and Peter had pledged alliance and friendship to each other, and Lune had no intention of imposing his advice on Peter and Edmund of how to rule a nation (though Peter would have welcomed a third opinion every once a while).

If Peter were truthful, he would admit he found King Lune (who was several years older than him) a bit daft, a trait which he and his siblings had laughed reluctantly about in secret. The man was burly and courageous enough, but he always seemed like he would prefer to be out hunting than keeping court. Indeed, Edmund had speculated the only reason Lune had left Galma was to quest for larger game.

Hopefully that slim girl he had just married would use her iron will to tame the wild side of him soon enough.

"Is that what you both were arguing about last night? You do not think she should be present for the penalties?" Edmund suddenly asked Peter.

The High King tore his gaze away from Robecca. He glanced swiftly at Edmund and then looked on ahead, not saying anything.

It was all the conformation Edmund needed. "Honestly, Pete, I don't know where you find the nerve to challenge her. Why cannot you be like the rest of us and simply accept her decisions, instead of getting into a row all the time?"

"We weren't even talking that loud," Peter said between his teeth. He wished he and Edmund were talking about a different subject.

"No, but you were still having a disagreement. Enough of one that passerby could hear the anger in your voices." Edmund sighed in exasperation. "Every time you object, and every time her logic proves to be concrete and her tactics flawless. I don't see how you have not learned to trust her."

Peter wheeled to face Edmund. "Of course I trust her! And I don't object to everything she says, ... only to what I know would harm her."

"She doesn't need your protection. It should be pretty obvious by now that nothing fazes her."

Peter couldn't answer his brother. He couldn't explain to him how he saw the very human pain behind her inhuman eyes. Her gaze dazzled everyone, but it seemed he was the only one who ever looked into their depths, trying to find what made them sparkle, and instead saw what he probably shouldn't.

She was intimidating, and sometimes daunting, but there were also times when he talked to her that he completely forgot that she was supposed to be a higher being. No one else seemed to share this same phenomenon when addressing her.

"It would soothe Susan's worries as well. She always afraid you will make Robecca mad enough that she will turn you into a frog," Edmund went on.

Peter huffed, tired with the conversation. "Just find some trustworthy people to appoint judges."

Edmund realized the discussion was over. He tried to lighten the High King's mood. "Fine, I'll start interviewing and recruiting between my dance and flute lessons. I'll probably end up choosing whoever can teach me the folk dances."

Both of them started laughing at jest, picturing a dignified judge in a powdered wig trying to do the Fox trot (a very different Fox trot than the one they had learned in their own world).

"What's so amusing?" the wind chimes in Robecca's voice asked. She had ridden up to Edmund's side, probably in attempt to escape Lord Darien's attentions. She smiled at Edmund, but her focus was on the trail ahead. A confused expression was slightly detectable on her face.

Peter turned forward, trying to see whatever she was looking at, but nothing appeared amiss on the forest trail.

"Robecca, if I name Madame Aquila the Judge Supreme, her new duties would keep her from teaching," Edmund told Robecca.

The High Queen slid her bemused eyes over to King Edmund. "You will not get out of your lessons so easily. Madame Aquila would feel obligated to make sure you learned all-the-quicker before she assumed her new role. She might even increase your rehearsals to thrice a day."

The ghastly look on her face made them laugh again. Her musical laughter joined theirs.

Her horse faltered a step, and immediately her expression turned serious.

"What is it, Sampson?" she asked.

"I'm not sure, my Lady," answered the restless horse, tossing his head, "but perhaps we should take a different route?"

Edmund's horse took a hesitant step too. "I agree, your Majesties. I don't like this way anymore."

Peter and Edmund's gaze darted around while Robecca laid comforting hands on the spooked horses.

"Come now, Phillip, buck up. A war horse like you should have nothing to fear," said Edmund moments later when nothing appeared wrong. "Even the birds still chirp bravely, and they are usually the first to spot danger."

Phillip tossed his head like Sampson and the horses nervously began walking again. Peter looked over at Robecca, but she had her eyes closed and was concentrating on something. The High King wasn't foolish; he knew how to pay attention to such subtle signs and take precaution .

Looking skyward, he whistled shrilly between his teeth. The golden eagle flying as look-out above dove down through the branches of the trees. The great bird landed on Peter's gloved hand and they conversed in low tones.

"Nothing to report, Your Majesty, but I can fly ahead and see what there is to see." The eagle took off above the treetops and disappeared from view.

"My Kings, I smell a fresh kill," said a gangly young panther at Peter's side. "There might be a preying animal close by."

Peter and Edmund shared a look, and their hands fell to the pommel of their swords in unison.

"Warn the others to be prepared. We will find out what the menace is and hopefully avoid conflicting it," King Edmund ordered the panther.

The alert spread through the party, and the jovial chatter stopped as the escorts fingered their weapons. Their steps became swift but cautious, all of them scanning the surrounding woods for any sign of danger.

"No doubt it is a dragon, or another party of giants. And they are coming to skin us alive and eat the meat of our bones. It's too late to run by this point," muttered a marsh-wiggle somewhere behind them.

Out of the corner of Peter's eye, he caught Edmund rolling his eyes in exasperation. The gloomy personality of the marsh-wiggles left something to be desired in a travelling party.

"Never fear, Master Wiggle, the High King's sword has fatally bitten more giants than you could count in your lifetime," exclaimed an enthusiastic young colt who carried another Archenland lord on his back.

Peter could not help but blush slightly at this presumption for the recent misconception. He kept his eyes facing directly forward, certain that if he turned his head to the side, Edmund would burst out loud with the laughter he was holding back with a bitten lip.

After the first battle of the Ettinsmoor giants, Peter had finally named the glorious sword that Father Christmas had given him last year. Rhindon now lay in its place of honor against Peter's thigh, his ready hand on the jeweled pommel. Somehow, a rumor had spread through the ranks that the bestowed appellation was an adaptation of the giants' word for "teeth," implying that Peter had meant the sword to be a 'devourer of giants.' He only hoped the accidental impertinence wouldn't provoke the giants to seek retribution.

Peter's discomfort distracted Robecca. It seemed she was beginning to develop another perspective sense where Peter was concerned. She couldn't quite explain why it was happening, but she figured it had to do with the bond that had formed between them when she instilled her hope and faith in him.

She took a moment to alleviate his embarrassment, recognizing at the same time that she never had done so this often for any other mortal before. She felt a tingle of guilt for favoring him, but she rationalized that he needed to stay alerted to the current danger instead of his ungrounded indignity. (If he had only known the other names that Sword had gone by, the dishonor of his own petty name would have been deeper.)

Unbeknownst to Robecca, there was an instinctual part of her being, reluctant in admittance of its existence, that would never suffer any distress on Peter's behalf. Not if it was in her power to prevent it.

Refocusing on the unknown threatening source of power, that intuitive part of her was preparing to defend her kings, but especially Peter.

Robecca did not know how to describe what she was sensing. Every intelligent creature in Narnia was known to her, for each one possessed a small bit of her own essence that she had bestowed upon them in creation. For this reason, she could distinguish and detect every living thing around her.

And Sons of Adam were easy enough to perceive, the rich souls that continued confound her were usually stoic with their great power.

But this new presence... she didn't know what it was. She couldn't even deem it a soulless presence.

She could detect no part of her essence or a soul in the clearing up ahead, but it wasn't entirely animalistic either. If she had to make a guess, she would say it was a demoted demi-god, like the Silenus and Bacchus shadows that roamed the land. But it was not a presence of that much magic, and it seemed more… empty than that.

When at last the party beheld the cause of the disturbance, they did not know how to react. Their readiness to attack was replaced with repulsion.

Before them appeared to be two identical infant Daughters of Eve, sitting upright in strange grass-woven clothing. They might have been considered beautiful children if they had beheld them from a farther distance, but up close it was apparent how very unnatural they were. Long wild black hair hung down their backs in meshed tangles. Their green slits of eyes, like that of a cat's or snake, regarded the remains of a nearly-devoured stag at their feet.

The creatures picked at the chunks of bloody flesh off the body and seemed to swallow without chewing. Their open mouths held rows of sharp pointed teeth, and their skin (upon closer inspection) was scaly like snakes. The two creatures didn't even look up from their meal at the newcomers, but hissed and spit at one another for the last chunks of meat still hanging off the bones of the carcass.

Before Robecca, Peter, or anyone else could overcome their shock to register a response at the dreadful sight before them, two hideous hags suddenly appeared on the border of the clearing. There was a split second while they all perceived each other, then the two hags raised their arms together in unison.

One hag pointed at the infant creatures, still obliviously eating, and ran towards them. The other hag pointed one of her arms at Robecca, a look of pure hatred and vengeance on her face, while her second arm made a sweeping motion that encompassed the rest of the party.

Black magic stirred the air in the initial ripples a split-second before its effect. Robecca barely used the time to throw her magic out to protect her companions from the magical harm, but the offensive spell had not been intended to injure. It seeked out and lashed at the minds of the Sons of Adam, while her spell to shield them actually back-lashed to her in a flare-up of her own power.

All of this happened simultaneously. Robecca saw the first hag reach the infants and disappear with them into thin air, while also realizing that the spell thrown onto her had been a trap spell that activated the moment she reached for her magic.

When Robecca would have cast her next spell to find out where the hag and infants had gone, the Royal Heart in her choker necklace blazed bright red and reached to connect to the mind-spell on the Sons of Adam. Suddenly, Robecca found herself being attacked by all of the Archenland nobles and Edmund.

They advanced upon her, blocking her view of the clearing and all escape. Their eyes were lifeless and grey from the powerful charm. Their movements were robotic as they assaulted the warhorse she rode, not even feeling the realizing the danger or noticing strain of strength.

Robecca cried out as she was pulled off Sampson and wrestled to the ground. The horse valiantly tried to nose the Sons of Adam away from her without actually biting them. Robecca, too, was reluctant to hurt them, and instead tried ripping away the cobwebs in their minds with her magic.

"St-Stop... Stop them!" a voice, Peter's voice, suddenly called out.

He was wrestling with an overwhelming urge to fall asleep, to surrender to the weight that was pressing on his mind, but a part of him recognized the magical influence of the hypnotic spell. But then he saw his brother turn and attack Robecca, and the last vestige of magical grogginess was thrown off in the volcanic eruption of protectiveness.

The centaurs and talking dogs in their party tried pulling the Sons of Adam off Robecca, who was in danger of being trampled because she refused to hurt her assailants, but the humans were crazed with the desire to rip the choker off the girl. Their hands became claw-like as they all pushed each other away in attempt to be the first to grab the bloody stone that had turned their entire vision red.

With the befuddling effects of the hag's spell gone, Peter dismounted his horse and surged toward the scrambling pile of human limbs. He ripped Lord Dar non-too-gently away, prying his fingers from Robecca's arm.

"Mine! I've got it!" exclaimed Lord Darien loudly.

Peter turned to see the man holding Robecca up by her throat, her feet kicking in the air and her fingers gripping the hand he was squeezing around her throat.

"Release her!" Peter ordered, already flinging himself toward them.

Robecca was wriggling and gasping as Peter threw his weight into Lord Darien's middle. The man went "umph" and fell backward with Peter's momentum. The noble's death-grip eased just enough that Robecca was able to pull away from him, dragging in a desperate breath and clutching her throat.

The two men rolled twice, but Peter's intent was sharper and he got the upper hand. Even as Peter straddled the wretched man and proceeded to beat him into unconsciousness, Darien's hand tried to reach around the High King to grab the Royal Heart again. And Edmund was coming up out of the corner of Robecca's left eye, the same mad desire in his dark eyes.

"SLEEP!" she roared, throwing strong magic into the command.

Edmund stopped mid-step, his out-reached hand falling to his side. His eyes rolled up as his knees buckled and he collapsed onto the grass. All the guards and attackers also instantly slumped over and slid to the ground, their breathing light and their eyes shut. Peter slid off Darien's chest and snoozed beside the snoring man.

Taking a moment, Robecca caught her breath, and felt the burn as the Royal Heart healed the bruises on her neck. She had thrown a lot of magic into the sleep spell to overpower the hag's spell of desire, but as she tested the minds of the Sons of Adam, she saw the dark power was already weakening with distance. She tore out the rest of the black magic that surrounded them, and then sent a tracking spell to discover where the hags and infants had gone to.

Still shaken, she picked her way out of the sleeping party and headed toward the clearing where she had seen the infant creatures.

'Aslan,' she called out.

'Robecca! What is happening? Nearly half of Narnia's north has fallen asleep.'

'That was me. I was... attacked.'

'What! By whom?! I'll tear them to ribbons!'

'Peace, Aslan dear. They were enchanted by a hag who had more magic than any hag should have.'

By then, Aslan had appeared in the clearing. He took in the shredded stag carcass and the sleeping kings and their guard, but he was more interested in sniffing the air.

'What is this scent? What creature-- no, two-- creatures were here?'

Robecca then showed Aslan her memories of what had happened.

'They did not want to fight. They ran away from you in fear. We must discover why,' said Aslan when he had seen her story.

'They weren't the hags' offspring. Although they were there to protect the childr- infants, I could also sense they were also afraid of the little creatures,' Robecca responded.

"I cannot detect any trail of their presence. If it weren't for the overwhelming smell, I wouldn't believe they had been here. Because I cannot relate their spirit imprints, they must be some type of human."

"It is the same with me, Aslan. Their spiritual footprints are as hidden to me as any creature of your kingdom. I would swear they are not human and you would swear they are not animal."

Aslan was silent as he inspected the clearing and the dead carcass, his unsettling feeling was shared by Robecca.

"It smells like it was-"

"No, that is impossible," Robecca interrupted firmly before he finished the thought.

"But surely you feel the similar presence. Could there be the smallest possibility it was?"

"No, it couldn't, Aslan. I didn't merely kill her, I destroyed all tainted spirit within her. There was nothing left of her remains, not on this plane or any others."

"Very well, my lady. This isn't the right scent anyhow. There's a mixture of… giant, hag, and… snake? I believe."

Aslan finished searching the clearing for scent clues. "I'm following your tracking spell. I don't like not knowing about strange creatures in our world."

She sent the mental wish that he would be careful.

He acknowledged her concern and vanished.


Deep magic meant to conceal and protect formed a thick barrier behind the northern manor. The purpose this wall of mist served was the most significant of her Father's magic, and like the manor, its likeness could have been found in every world. Nothing grew in the space of the magical fog, for the very air hummed with deadly electric energy of ancient magic. Anyone who tired to approach the invisible wall would find themselves walking back in the other direction with no memory of what they had seen minutes earlier, and lacking any intention to return.

The only ones who had ever seen beyond the barrier never returned, for once crossed, they would pass onto the next plane of existence. It didn't matter if they were reluctant to come this way or not, since it was impossible to travel twice through the wall.

Robecca had effortlessly brushed by the lethal shielding spells as if they weren't there; their powers having no effect on her at all.

She now stood on a high cliff that looked out beyond the edge of the world. A hallow wind that had no beginning and raced to nowhere swirled around the mortal fabric of her human dress. Within the thunderous gale could be heard the babble and screams of countless mortals, and it was filled with ancient scents that had been carried in and out of hundreds of worlds for a million eras. The blast was such that even the mightiest of trees would have been blown away to splinters in a matter of seconds, and yet Robecca trembled because the wind's velocity was not as strong as it should have been. And the unspeakable sight before her explained the cause.

"Oh my Father,... my brother... what has happened?"

But not even here on the outer limits of her world would they speak to her.

The vast sight beyond the barrier was hidden for good reason. Spirits forced to pass along on the precipice did so to learn their own humility and the place they held in the grandest scheme in all the universes. There was only one path, and it led down to the next plane, where the cosmic sight was repeated only as a larger and more vibrant copy. To continue on the downward path would take one through the infinite planes, each one grander and more beautiful than the last.

That's where Aslan found her some time later, still staring out into the bright ocean of starlight while her hair billowed out behind her in the supernatural gust.

"They have vanished! The ground and waters tell of the passage of two extraordinary infant demons, but the trail runs cold in the giants' country. Maybe after you have interviewed them, we will know more about where they came from."

When Robecca didn't answer, Aslan turned to look with divine eyes.

Along the rim of the great chasm before them, all the worlds of their various universes rotated in bright eclipses, like the giant spooks on a great wheel. The glowing trails of star sprites and Arch messengers usually threaded through the orbiting realms, the remnants of their passage as they rushed along on her Father's errands. But the only visible trails were not fresh.

The usually bustling place had a desolate emotion about it (for all things and places live and feel even if not in the same way mortal creatures do). And especially here, where the Time Stream's powers influenced the passing in the worlds, the deserted place made one feel like all the light of in all the worlds would not be enough to overcome the vestige of sadness that emitted from it.

"They… they've stopped?" asked Aslan disbelievingly.

While the worlds were supposed to spin around each other, they also needed to turn on their own axis. It was the way the worlds were connected to each but at the same time independent in their own way.

Except they were not turning now.

Every single world was stock still as they orbited the central chasm. The only one still moving was Narnia, unattached as it was from the others.

From here, Robecca and Aslan could see into the different worlds with their far-reaching eyes; there was no fabric of matter to obscure their eyes. And the result of the stillness was eerily evident.

Everything had stopped. The mortals in the middle of their lives were frozen in place. No breath escaped them. Their bodies weren't aging. The suns of the worlds were not circling the planets. The rivers and clouds had stopped flowing along their currents.

Every world had come to a stand-still. Every world save for the one Robecca and Aslan stood on the edge of.

"It's my Father's world," Robecca pointed out.

Aslan focused on the home world of Lord Adam and Lady Eve. A gaping hole had been removed from the realm, and the turning of the other worlds had stopped as a result. The gears that would normally click together to spin the giant mechanism was missing a single wedge, causing the whole thing to halt as the gears clinked absently against each other in an attempt to start up again.

"A missing piece? Which?"

"I have been trying to determine that," replied Robecca. She had been spending this time searching her Father's world- Peter's world- to discover what crucial element was missing that would stop the entire flow of the Time Stream.

So much had changed in that world since the last time she had seen it. It was fascinating to explore the world in this single instant in time.

So many new inventions and styles. The clothing, the expressions, the cities.

The war.

Flying vehicles frozen in time and releasing giant metal contraptions that seemed to explode once they touched the ground. She remembered what Peter had told her of the air raids, and now understood from the look of terror on the cowering victims what horror she had instigated.

It was terrible, but wonderful too, because she took the liberty of looking into the Pevensie household. Peeking into the bedrooms, examining the strange things and clothes, scouring the family pictures and recognizing the faces she had dreamed of for centuries.

She traveled along the streets that showed many spiritual trails left by the children, following them to the various schools and buildings they had visited during their lives, comprehending more of the life they had left behind.

"The source still eludes me. What is causing this?" demanded Robecca.

"I think… the children are," Aslan said hesitantly.

Robecca whirled to him, the tiny icicles that had formed on her human skin from the gales breaking off from her lashes.

"That can't be it. Sons of Adam have stumbled into our world countless times over the centuries. Why would they be the ones to stop the spinning of their world, and in turn, the others?"

"Why indeed? The countless others happened upon Narnia, but we knew of these children long before they departed. As was their destiny to come to our world, it is their fate to return to their own. And so their world awaits their homecoming exactly as they left it."

"But… how can you be sure? For although the Time Stream has stopped spinning the worlds, the Stream that controls Narnia still flows. They are growing older… Peter's birthday is next month, and it is evident he has grown in our world."

"I can be sure, my lady, because I look at you and see that you too have molded your aging to Narnia's years. Whatever piece of the Time Stream the children brought from their world, it has affected you as well. You have grown this year as any other Daughter of Eve would have."

Shaken at Aslan's words, Robecca ran out of the nebula cloud, through the barrier for mortals, and back into the manor house made from her Father's magic.

Once there in her Father's orchid, she fell to on her human knees on the grass and wrapped her arms around herself. It was the first time in her whole mortal life that she had felt this unsettled and unsure. Not even facing Jadis had unraveled her resolve.

She truly didn't know what her Father had intended for her in this new turn of events. She had endured so many trials already, and now this recent development had changed the rules yet again.

Growing along Narnia, that had been the punishment. Cursed to the sporadic timeline that would prohibit her from forming life-long relationships, but loving every soul and spirit of her world so that their deaths would pile the grief higher and higher on her human heart.

She thought she had understood the penalty, that she had finally come to terms with the pain, but Aslan was right. She was aging at the same rate as the children, finally growing like a common Daughter of Eve in her own world. Was she supposed to live out the rest of her sentence with the prophecy children? Or would they be snatched away from Narnia at any moment, casting the world back into darkness?

...And leaving me alone again.

Where had that thought come from?

Preposterous! She had never been alone. Aslan and the star sprites and Marcusolni and the water gods had been around just long as she had. Why would she even think something like that?

The conditions may have changed, but certainly that hadn't. So where was this fear of loneliness coming from?

Aslan was waiting beside her, patiently giving her all the time she needed to absorb this new information. It was a shock for him too, but he knew it would be doubly so for Robecca. He felt her chaotic emotions changing too fast in her mind for him to follow, so he instead contemplated the potential disastrous and beneficial consequences of this change.

However, the only modification he could foresee was Robecca's punishment being over faster than they had first believed. Perhaps the kings and queens were to serve another unseen purpose: they would help Robecca fulfill her penalty ahead of schedule. By that logic, they would be home before another Narnia century had passed.

"Mistress?" Aslan nuzzled her side worriedly.

Robecca shot immediately to her feet. However long she had crouched there absorbing the shocking revelation, she had arrived at the same conclusion as Aslan. She only had one lifetime left in Narnia years, and she would be privileged enough to spend it with the kings and queens.

"This is a blessing," she told Aslan, for that is what she recognized it as now: a way to terminate her sentence early. Perhaps defeating Jadis had been her ultimate challenge and by passing it, parole had come in the form of her prophecy children.

It was such a wonderful and unexpected gift! It was the best reason she had to celebrate ever since she and Aslan had been told they would be given a world of their own.

In a few short years, they would be back home with her brother and sisters.

Home. Where all of her powers would be restored, and she would be rid of the cursed Royal Heart.

They could govern their world from the omnipresent location, and delegate the duties more efficiently. They could even designate the Arch messengers to carry out the management details. She and Aslan may even have time to visit other worlds again.

Such a glorious dream, and all it begged was a few more mortal years.

Surprisingly, the joy she felt was not due to the lovely thought that her trial was almost over, but because it was Pet-- the kings and queens who would share her remaining years. They would be the delightful memories most vivid when she returned home.

"A few more mortal years, Aslan. Do you think we can manage it?"

Her friend shook his mane in a lion-like chuckle. "If there is one thing this ordeal has taught me, it is patience. I will need the years to finish my own prophecy as well."

"Oh? You have fully undertaken the Archenland project?"

"I have to admit that these Sons of Adam have begun to grow on me. The world was not quite the same when they were not here. I figured I might as well perform one interactive manipulation while we are here." He pawed the ground, "And I couldn't very well let that baby prince die, anyway."

"But he had a twin brother to assume the throne instead, so it would not have been a complete waste. But heavens, listen to us! Here I am the one rationalizing the waste of a human life while you are the one trying to protect it."

"Quite a reversal of our roles, is it not? No doubt this punishment has taught us more than we realize." He licked her hand. "We have grown together."

"You can never know how grateful I am to you, my dearest Aslan," Robecca found herself saying.

Aslan was just as puzzled as she was over the blurted declaration. Begging pardon and conveying emotions verbally was not a practice gods were accustomed to doing. It was quite pointless when one already knew the emotions the other was feeling.

"Why, thank you for the compliment, Robecca. But really, what a human thing to say! It is a good thing we are leaving this world soon, you become more and more like those children every day."


So just out of curiosity, has anyone figured out my favorite Disney movie yet? If I make any more references to it, I'm going to have to start disclaiming that movie too!

And someone asked which songs I listen to for inspiration of this story. Well, this part of the romance is kinda influenced by Aqua's 'My, Oh My.' And when I get into the later books, the soundtrack I always put my day-dreaming to was Britney Spears' first album 'Baby One more Time,' especially the second half of the album's songs. And yes, I know that is totally lame, but like I've said, I was really young when I first imagined this. And she was talented at one point! If your memory can go back that far.