Author's Note: Hello there, everyone! Ok, so before I let you read, I'd just like to say I'm a little bit on the other side of the globe, so my schooling will start when the majority of you guys have your summer. I will NOT however ABANDON this story! I will not even dream about it, so hang in there. Updates may slow down. You have been forewarned ;;)

Ok, so enough of that—The Little Progeny. This chapter was very, and I mean very, fun to write. Read on, and maybe you'll see why.

Chapter 9: The Little Progeny

Presently running through the Main Hall of Cair Paravel, after having hastily made his way past the guards at the front doors is the King Edmund, aiding in the search for the Lady Eleanor. Since realizing that she had abandoned the monarchs in the courtyard, all four kings and queens had proceeded to search for her whereabouts, for being unfamiliar with her and her structure of thinking, they would not know if she would have in any way endangered herself or not, and they were wondering if it had anything to do with her shouting earlier that morning during the fake tournament.

Edmund skidded to a rough halt in the middle of the vast enclosure to catch his breath and looked around, choosing which hall he should enter next. Bother, he thought, reprimanding himself for forgetting where his siblings were searching. He did not want to end up wasting his time in a hall that had already been sought out.

"Edmund."

Edmund whirled around and found Susan hastily making her way to him from across the hall of the galleries, "I haven't found her," she said worriedly. Edmund walked over, shaking his head, "Where do you think?"

"I'm not sure. Oh, I do hope she's all right. This does worry me so!"

"Susan," Edmund said consolingly, "Did you go to the Secondary Library yet?"

"Yes, in fact I used the stairwell from the courtyards and headed there first."

"Where are Peter and Lucy?"
"Oh, By the Lion, I haven't a clue either!" Susan's face was fixed in an agitated expression, and Edmund knew he had to keep his own head so as to calm his sister. He furrowed his brow, "Then we'll work on our own. Cair Paravel is awfully big."
"So it is, but I think Eleanor will be where she is familiar with."

I doubt it, Edmund thought, deciding upon not saying that aloud. He knew a mind like Eleanor's, or at least he was vaguely familiar with it, given how he was in the past. If Eleanor was unfamiliar with a place, I reckon she'd be more comforted there than anywhere else, the king reasoned quietly as he looked around the Main Hall again, It's a way to clear her mind. Now, where would she be?

"Susan," Edmund said at once, "When you saw the Secondary Library, did you go through the entire east wing?"

Susan raised her eyebrows, "Of course not," she said uncertainly, "I mean, Eleanor isn't familiar with any of the other rooms in the east wing…"

Edmund eyed her strangely.

"Unless, she did some exploring on her own," the queen finished and she again looked like she was about to cry, "Oh, how daft of me, Ed!" she said, "We should look there right now."

Edmund led the way to the staircase and scaled it two steps at a time, leaving Susan trying to catch up, "I'll take the west, Su," he called back and made his way to the said direction.

As Edmund stepped completely at the top of the stairs he turned to the west and found the familiar sharp bend that led to the study. Edmund felt a strange moment's hesitation before shaking his head and walking on, glancing back at the empty passage behind him. The king looked around the wing and felt as if he was lost, lost in a castle he had familiarized himself with for years. He bit his lip and furrowed his brow, scanning the portraits of various Narnian creatures that were painted on canvases adorning the long wall of the hallway, alongside proud Narnian red banners. Edmund came to the first room, a furnished Drawing Room that would have been used when important nobility was visiting the castle. It reminded Edmund of King Lune's letter, and he made a mental note to himself to look into it again later on.

Entering, Edmund looked around the room and was greeted by the soothing scents of pine and lavender. Cair Paravel's rooms were always identified with their own scents, being from the area or part of the castle they were built, how often they were used, or for what functions they served. But Edmund was pulled quickly out of his trance almost at once, and he found himself calling out, "Eleanor?"

There was no reply returned after a few seconds. Edmund furrowed his brow and closed the door behind him, quietly walking through and looking behind large furniture, still calling out the princess's name. Finally, he gave up and he regretfully left the beautiful quarters with a careful shut of the door.

Edmund did this for all the rooms he found through the west hall until he finally sighted the study doors only a few paces away. The wooden structures were swung slightly ajar, as if someone had carelessly entered and forgot to close it. The king felt a cold shiver run down his spine and he slowly made his way to the study, finally making out a conversation of two hushed voices from inside, both of which were very familiar.

"Do tell, Teacher," said the first voice, a woman's. Eleanor. Edmund stopped before the study with a furrowed brow and looked through the line of vision the parted doors allowed for him. He could make out the center table and the back of the lady's body, seated on a chair. To whom she was talking to, however, the king could no longer see.

"Ah, there was the eldest, Prince Ludwig. He was a fine young man and would have made and excellent ruler—"

Ortemius, Edmund thought at once and he set his jaw rigidly and laid a pale hand on the wood blocking the rest of his view.

"--Had he the chance. Princess Mathilda was only about a year younger than he, but the youngest, a mere child was named Princess El—"

When the king entered the study, he briefly caught the Old Teacher staring at Eleanor in bewilderment, his thick beard concealing a mouth that was obviously agape. Soon enough though, the Teacher recognized the presence of his liege and he pushed his chair back as quickly as he could to stand and pay the respects due from him. Eleanor first turned in her seat and then found herself standing up as well, all the time her eyes catching Edmund's calm stare. Eleanor remained silent, either of shock or of fear, and if it was the latter, Edmund wanted to know what had instigated it upon her.

The king turned his attention to the Old Teacher and bowed in return, "Good morrow, Teacher," said he, "Fancy seeing you here on such a fine midmorning in Narnia. Has your Council not commenced at the time?"

Eleanor was bemused by the unusually firm tone in Edmund's deep sound of a voice, and all the more did the king appear unapproachable for the blank expression he presently wore on his face. She also noticed in a moment that the king's hair was windblown, as if he had been making haste for a good deal of time. His face was slightly drained of color, and his lips chapped from the cold. But strange of all, Edmund easily concealed any sign of appearing as tired as he felt, and the lady only noticed the rise and fall of his chest to be very weak, and nigh as calm as natural.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Ortemius had replied, "I was, after all, only searching for more documents that may aid you and the other royals in your lessons."

Edmund gave a slight nod and glanced at Eleanor, "Indeed," he said slowly. You have no idea of how common your excuse is beginning to sound, he thought and turned again to the Teacher, allowing his gaze to linger slightly on Eleanor, "Forgive me if I have interrupted anything," said he, by now having his full attention on the scholar, "But noonday meals are about to take place in the Dining Hall. I am to escort our guest, for my siblings may now have to forgive our tardiness."

"Certainly, Your Majesty," replied the Teacher, his eyes staring hard back at the king. Eleanor curtsied, "Thank your for your time, Teacher Ortemius," said she.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lady Eleanor."

By Edmund's gestures, Eleanor ushered herself out of the study and the king half-turned to his Teacher, "You are very kind," said he, "That you spend so much time looking for suitable documents for our discussions on Borovia."

Edmund was unsure of a flicker of fear that passed over the Teacher's face when he said nothing and bowed, "Good day unto you, King Edmund."

"And you."

Edmund promptly left the study and closed the doors behind him, tugging it until he could hear its latch shut securely.

"Forgive me, Lady," Edmund began as soon as he and the princess were alone in the hallway, "But if I may ask, what exactly do you think were you doing?"

Edmund watched as the lady regarded him with an icy glare, making him flinch uncomfortably. He was not at all reprimanding his guest, nor was he even the slightest bit angry, however we may say that the king was very confused by what he had seen in the study just moments ago. He was sure of what he had heard before he made his presence known. He heard the three names of the Varchovîch's heirs, with Eleanor's name interrupted by something he was not sure of. Why and how the conversation had even reached such as a state, Edmund was aching to know. Had not Eleanor clearly requested that her identity as the last Borovian survivor be kept secret until she permitted otherwise? If so, then why was she discussing Borovian concerns with the Old Teacher Ortemius, member of the Council, and resident of the Empire of Narnia for more than a hundred years?

"Forgive me, my King," replied Eleanor, "Had I offended you in any way."

Edmund furrowed his brow and walked closer, saying calmly, "I had not meant to negate you, Eleanor."

At that point, Eleanor realized she could no longer hold Edmund's gaze, not when he was this close to her, and not when she could clearly see the shade of hazel his eyes were tinted, for her mind began to vex her with images of her deceased brother. In her shame, Eleanor looked away, "I'm sorry," she said softly, "I had misunderstood."

Edmund nodded slowly and regret having put Eleanor in an awkward position, "What happened?" he asked, attempting to change the course of the conversation, "You suddenly left. We've been looking for you."
Eleanor still had not looked up and she fumbled timidly with her hands.

"Lady?" Edmund asked, gentler this time.

That tone, Eleanor thought sadly. She rarely heard such a gentle tone, and how she longed to have heard it from her family. But coming from Edmund, it seemed so different, as if she could still compare it to her family. Strange world. Eleanor looked up and tried to smile as reassuringly as she could, "I don't know," she said weakly. Edmund raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded, figuring the princess would not want to tell him yet, "Come," he said encouragingly and gestured for the lady to walk aside him, returning to the staircases in the east. Edmund sighed inwardly, wishing he could say something, anything that would be smart enough to put Eleanor at ease. He then recalled a little advice he had received from Lucy before. 'The most complicated situations are sometimes settled by the simplest of words.'

"You know, Eleanor," Edmund began casually, still looking ahead of the hallway with slightly narrowed eyes as if he were thinking over what to say next, "You can tell me anything."

Eleanor raised her eyebrows at his words, and marveled at how openly they were conveyed, for she only remembered hearing similar things said by Lucy. She turned her attention fully to the king, "What do you mean?" she asked. Edmund smiled warmly, excellently hiding his agitation, "If anything bothers you, saddens you," he looked to his companion, "Or makes you happy, you can tell me."

Eleanor chuckled lightly at his final statement and was ever grateful that Edmund was not always as quiet and reserved as she perceived him to be, "Anything?"

"Anything," the king replied firmly. Eleanor nodded, "What if something angers me?"

Edmund raised his chin, "As long as I am not the object of your anger, feel free to approach me any time of the day."

Eleanor smiled and said, "I appreciate that."

"You ought to," Edmund replied, a glint in his eye, "I know you're horribly nervous just walking down this hall with me, when you have no idea how nervous I am walking with you."

It took a moment for Eleanor to understand the jest and she laughed good-naturedly when she did, covering her mouth with the decency of a true lady. Edmund glanced at her and was pleased with himself, having made her laugh, but when he saw the look in her eyes, how he wished he could make it last all the longer, for she, he will not hesitate to say, was so beautiful when she smiled, and her eyes brightened even the slightest bit in a display of mirth. But just as quickly as he saw it appear, it vanished from Eleanor's complexion as if it would take another decade for it to return.

When the two royals turned the sharp bend, they were greeted by extremely relieved Susan and Lucy picking up their skirts and jogging towards them with smiles on their faces, "Oh, Eleanor!" said Susan, "We were just about ready to have the guards finally roused."

Eleanor bowed her head in apology, "I'm sorry," said she, "I have been an object to your worries."

Lucy closed her eyes and prayed a silent thank you to the Lion before looking at the princess again and waved her hand smoothly in the air, a gesture she had developed when desiring to push a troubling matter aside, "All is well," said she, "And how good of Edmund to have found you."

Edmund smiled back and said nothing, his eyes conveying a message of thanks to his sister. It was then that the conversation had ceased to carry on, and Eleanor realized that was because there was one question the queens were wanting to ask, that Edmund already had: What happened? The princess swallowed and Susan looked at her with a kindness Eleanor will never want to forget, "Given what had happened in the courtyard this morning, we shall make nothing of it."

"We assure you," chimed Lucy, although she very much wanted to ask Edmund if he knew otherwise. The Valiant queen nodded firmly, "And I hope your appetite is still with you for noonday meals," said she with the brightest smile she could muster despite her increasingly curious mood to voice her sentiments, very much aware of how untimely the comment might have sounded. But Lucy knew, and she was sure Susan and Edmund did too, that the sooner the mood could be brightened, the better. And she was willing to exhaust all the efforts she could rack from her brain.

Ortemius strode through the shelves again, rolling up the heavy sleeves of his robes halfway up his arms to get them out of the way of his hands that were now shoving books here and their on their shelves and drawers, his mind racing with notions that were alarming him at a rate he could never explain.

So this is what they were telling me about! the Old Teacher gritted his teeth as he accidentally caught his finger in a drawer he just shut. Cursing mentally, He quickly strode to the next shelf, running a trained finger over the spines of the books.

Here was a woman, and as far as he was concerned, an unknown guest at Cair Paravel who arrived with no common grand entrance or welcoming ball. What was more is that she was unusually interested in Narnia's history to the point that she had asked for a rather impromptu lesson with someone she barely even knew by name alone. Ortemius narrowed his eyes and tried to reconstruct an image of the lady in his mind. Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and was the deepest auburn I have ever seen in a good while of my lifetime. Ortemius pursed his lips as he slowly walked through the dim shelves, hardly minding the books that towered around him, Her eyes were the clearest, and coldest grey, the Teacher grunted, I can hardly even place how they looked like now. The Teacher suddenly whirled around and hurried to the other side of the study, reaching the shelves nearest the long table and aside the window. He ran his hands over the familiar line of books again until he came to an old leather bound text, the King Edmund's Borovian study book. Ortemius pulled it out with a skillful tug and flipped through the pages until he came to the pattern of the deceased Borovian family. His eyes ran from each monarch, from King Marthelius, to Queen Vericha; from Prince Ludwig, and Princess Mathilda.

Pause.

Ortemius laid the book slowly and deliberately on a lower shelf. And this is the reason I have been summoned, he thought, his gaze turning to the doors, recalling how the lady had first entered and how she had promptly left in the company of the king. Presently, a vivid image of the lady returned to him, and he could fully and clearly see the features of her face. The teacher lowered his eyes again to the book and scowled behind his beard. His thumb had unconsciously fallen upon the child princess, Eleanor.

"Impossible," Ortemius muttered to the nothingness of the study as he placed the book back in its shelf. He must now make haste before he ran out of time.

Later that afternoon, Edmund found himself sitting in the elegant structure of the council room of Cair Paravel, in council with some of the members of the court, and the head guards. Noonday meals earlier on had appeared if not strained, quite awkward, given the conversation he and his sisters had with Eleanor in the east wings. He was also sure Peter noticed, and just didn't say anything. The High King had searched his way in the ballroom, apparently and met up with his siblings on their way down to the Dining Hall. Even then, Peter was sure something had happened, and he obviously decided to keep quiet. He'll approach me later, Edmund thought knowingly.

Returning to the present as much as he could, the king unconsciously rubbed his right temple as he listened to the reports of his scouts regarding their sightings of Followers. He was glad that the sightings were being more and more rare, and much less worrisome than the first few years of his reign, but they were sightings nonetheless. There were always reports on two or four creature sightings every nine months, and much to the monarch's relief, even longer. But scouting was done nearly every week just to make sure. Peter had asked him to take over the councils that afternoon, for he needed to attend to a matter regarding the reconstruction of the borders leading to Archenland that had suddenly arisen. Blast that witch, Edmund thought frustrated. When Jadis had frozen the main heart of the Empire, being Narnia itself, she closed the borders that led to the allying countries to bar the way of any aid that might arrive to her conquered country. Since learning this, the monarchy of Cair Paravel had decided to reconstruct that borders so as to allow safer, easier, and faster passages into Narnia. However, it had not been an easy task, and a lot of the members from the Court Division of Sorcerers have been going back and forth to the Main Library, struggling to find or recreate counterspells that they could possibly use, in hopes to decipher and terminate the strong and complicated enchantments still surrounding a great percentage of the borders. Progress was slow. In fact, one magician, a dwarf whose name also escapes Edmund arrived from the borders about a year ago missing his right thumb. Many said he was fortunate that that was all he had lost, however many were also very skeptical about commencing with the mission to destroy the magic guarding the borders, for not everyone could be so lucky. At present, Edmund was silently praying that no magician, and no High King Peter, would arrive today missing a limb.

"— recent sightings of a group of five Boggles."
Edmund returned to his current surroundings with a sudden nod. The Griffin Brimgar was the one who had spoken, and his intelligent eagle gaze was fixed on the king, waiting patiently for a reaction. Edmund calmly straightened up from looking down at a detailed Narnian map, his finger falling on the area of Western Woods, "Forgive me, Good Griffin," he said, "What direction did you say your comrades saw the said Boggles flying to?"

"East of the Western Woods, Sire," came the reply, "To which woods exactly, they were unable to see."

"So they still know how to hide," Edmund spat bitterly, "No matter. They cannot do that for long. How many of your alliances can you send to scout for their whereabouts?"

"If I may beseech thee, Your Majesty," came a smooth voice. Edmund and Brimgar both turned to a raven standing at the other end of the table, drawing attention from the rest of the room. He stepped closer to the king and bowed with an extended wing in respect, "My flock will willingly scout the premises."

Edmund nodded, giving thought to the idea of sending the dark ravens to do the search, "Very well. What sayest thou, Good Griffin?" he asked. Brimgar bowed his head, his beak nearly touching the top of the conference table, "The task will be passed on, Sire."

Edmund returned to the raven, "Send as many ravens as you need, Darkperch," said the king, "And kindly remember to turn over to me a record of the ravens you send and when they plan to scout."
"With a good will, King Edmund."

Edmund sighed and nodded to a Faun who was taking notes of the conference for his future reference, his quill scratching rapidly over a sheet of parchment, "You don't mind if this continues, do you?"

"I can extend my shift, My Liege," replied the Faun with a reassuring smile, "Commence."

Edmund looked very grateful and turned to Oreius, "Have you news on land, General?"

"The Western Woods are clear of any land Followers, and have been thus for two weeks and three days now, Sire."

"Excellent."

"The Dancing Lawn is also good. Queen Lucy has assured us that the dryads residing there are slowly starting to forget the difficult times of The Winter, and look forward to resuming their songs a hundredfold."

Edmund smiled inwardly, his thoughts drifting to his younger sister. Lucy always knew how to bring peace to Narnia, just as she had brought peace to him three years ago. He quickly pushed his notions aside, for the Centaur had not ceased speaking, "However, I regret to inform Your Majesty that one of my stallions was patrolling through the Owlwood, only a week and three days ago, and injured himself just above his hoof. A study of the wound led us to conclude the work of an Ankleslicer."

Edmund cringed and his fists clenched themselves instinctively. The entire room was now filled with whispers and agitated conversations about the news. Even the Faun had stopped taking his notes for his fear. The Just king could not blame them, however. Ankleslicers were the smallest of Jadis's army, but they were also some of the most fearful, and feared, creatures especially on the battlefield. Small they were, but one cut from the blades on their arms could have even the strongest knight howling in pain because of the dark art that laced the blade. Edmund had always been fortunate enough not to have encountered one during the Battle of Beruna and other previous scouts and campaigns during his early reign, but when he heard the bloodcurdling screams of his men that were unfortunate to have been otherwise, his heart always wrenched and any curse that left his lips was meant for those dreadful miniature barbarians.

"Silence, gentlemen," Edmund said calmly and the room quieted down in obedience. The king's eyes fell on Oreius as he said, "You have no doubt, General?"

Oreius gravely shook his head, "I have never heard a stallion as strong as Noreion scream in such pain since the Battle of Beruna, Your Majesty."

"How does he fair of late?"

"He is under the care of his family, but he has reported back to me full hand just last week."

Edmund traced his finger around the area of Owlwood, "Say where, General."

"On coordinate 189 E, Your Majesty."

Edmund admired the precision of the answer and made sure the Faun took note of such. He turned his attention to a nobility of the court, Master Quadrîn of Narnian Sciences, "If I send you and your men to 189 E, will you be able to study the earth and see if it is always tread upon by Ankleslicers?"

Quadrîn bowed deeply, his narrowed indigo eyes sure and confident, "Either that, Sire, or we die trying."
Edmund smirked good-naturedly. The Master was always one for dramatic reason, "Master, I certainly hope you don't intend to go that far."
Quadrîn smiled in return, "How many men do you wish for me to take?"

Edmund was now preparing to turn his attention to the next report, and so said simply, "As little as you possibly can, for King Peter might also need aid for the borders."
"Aye, Your Majesty."

"And I'll be needing the names of the men," the king added as an afterthought, "Especially if you suddenly intend on seeking for the help of members from another court division. However, if thus happens, be sure to approach me first."

"Yes, Sire."

Edmund took a moment of thought before looking at a smart grey Hound regarding him expectantly, "Ah, and what news would you have for me?" Edmund knew he always seemed be humored by the Hounds of Cair Paravel, for what reasons he did not know. Let us leave such matters to him however, and proceed with the discussion.

The Hound nodded, "We heard howling a few nights ago, Your Majesty."
"Of what sort, pray tell."
"Wolves."

Edmund furrowed his brow. What was so unusual about that? Wild wolves howled to gather a hunt. And the Witch's wolves were now very scarce. In fact, Edmund was wondering if they have already reached their extinction.

The king leaned on the table, both hands placed firmly on the crisp parchment of the map, "Why should that concern us?"

"Their howls were of a hunt you do not wish to know about, King Edmund," came the reply, "Griffin Brimgar has said that there were Boggles sighted in the past, and that was around the same time our hounds had heard the wolves."
Edmund shut his eyes tightly through the report, thinking, They must have been summoned by those wolves, and for what reason I greatly wish not to find out. The king raised his hand, "I beg you not to continue," he said wearily, "From which direction did you hear?"

"Owlwood, Sire."
The king's eyes flew open and he frowned deeply. Have all the Followers transferred from the Western Woods to Owlwood? I say, they are such idiots. Now they are much nearer Cair Paravel, Edmund shrugged inwardly, Oh, good. Less work on expeditions then.

"Coordinates?"

The Hound blinked, as if trying to recall, and replied, "176 E," he paused, "Your Majesty."

"Coordinate E," Edmund mumbled, "Oreius, had you not mentioned this as your Ankleslicer sighting as well?"
"Correct, Sire."

Edmund shook his head and turned to Darkperch, "Send only the best of your flocks, Good Raven," he said, "I want the Owlwood scouted properly."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

The king said to the hound, "Send the best of your pack to circle the borders of the Owlwood. Do not enter the area, however. I do fear for your safety," he circled a finger around the area to show the Hound, whose eyes smiled with comprehension, "Look for any signs of the wolves' presence, and the wolves' alone. Leave the rest to the ravens."
"With a good will, Your Majesty."
"And send me a record of the names of the Hounds you send, understood?"
"Yes, Sire."

Eleanor sat at her vanity, her necklace chain blithely scattered on the tabletop, her eyes fixed over the intricate detail of the lion head pendant. She traced a thumb over the designs, feeling for the indentions of where there were molded vines and floral patterns. The gold shone brilliantly under the afternoon light that poured sparingly through the balcony doors. The princess hummed and raised her eyebrows, as the lion's carved golden eyes seemed to stare back at her almost consolingly.

Eleanor sighed and let the necklace drop on her lap, resting in her warm hold, "Why can't I remember?" she asked to no one in particular. Presently, she was alone in her quarters, preferring to ponder her own thoughts and how her unusual day had so far commenced itself.

She had learned about her past, something she had been wanting to do for a considerable amount of her lifetime, and the more she thought about it, the more her heart ached to learn more. Eleanor jerked slightly as she felt a cold prickle on the back of her neck, and instinctively she whirled around in her seat. The princess bit her lip as she scanned her eyes over her quarters. Slowly, she stood up and walked around the room, still holding the necklace in her hand, the chain entwined in her fingers. The princess came to a stop by the bedpost and she leaned against it deep in thought. The quarters were as beautiful as ever in the afternoon, and in fact it seemed as if its appearance always changed depending on the time of the day you saw it.

In the morning, the room glowed with the warmth of gold and sun, and then the breeze from the balcony would tease the light curtains, making it dance and flutter like the trees outside. The wood of the furniture would change from its dark and polished finish, to a fiery red like mahogany, and the silhouettes cast by the interrupting sunlight on the carved designs of every piece in the large room was like an accent begging for the attention of an onlooker. Then at the peak of the day, or the afternoon as it is called, the colors became wonderfully vibrant and more defined, and one would notice them even more than how it would have been noticed in the morning. Every detail of embroidery to be seen on curtain, quilt, carpet and banner was refined to a degree unimaginable to even the greatest artist in the Empire. The shades of red, and blue, and orange, and cream, and green, and yellow were distinguished as clearly as one possibly can try. The golden Lion on the fireplace's coat-of-arms shown the brightest at this time, and because the life was seen so well in it, you could almost hear its loud roar.

But in the evening, the beauty was all the more grand and romantic, for this was the time when all the colors faded to a soft tinge of blue with purple, and pink. And when you light a candle to accentuate the quarters, well the beauty is indescribable, just like a lot of other things found in Narnia.

Beauty. Eleanor could only dream of a life that truly fit the word, for she was aware that for her, beauty and life should never really appear in the same sentence. Memories running between midmorning and noon rushed into her mind, and Eleanor recalled how she had so rudely bit back at Edmund without even taking a moment to understand what he was trying to say. And when he frowned confused and kindly explained that he meant her no scorn, his voice was probably the most sincere and gentle and Just she had ever heard in her life. When the king offered his friendship, half of Eleanor wanted to resist his proposal, but the other half, being much stronger and desperate yearned for a friend. But by noonday meals, Eleanor realized just how much of a burden she was to the monarchy of Cair Paravel; or at least she thought she was a burden, for the princess found all four royals eating in an awkward silence, and poor Peter did not understand why.

Eleanor strode back to the mirror and stared at her reflection hatefully, "Oh, just look at you, Eleanor!" she retorted, "Making a mess of your own life and pulling others along with you. Pah! Who are you?"

She froze.

Who was she? Many would probably answer, 'Lost Princess of Borovia.' But that would be wrong, for that answered the question 'what was she?'

But who was the lost princess of Borovia? Who was she? Who is she? Eleanor let out half of a sob and half of a growl as she clamped her necklace on the tabletop and knelt, crying into her arms. Her shoulders shook as she, with futile attempts, tried to smother the broken sobs escaping her lips.

Here, say I, that the princess's pain at this moment is unbearable, and I will not make any efforts to really describe it to you. All there is to be said is that Eleanor no longer saw anything in herself, and saw no purpose of trying to know who she was, for it was her fault she had forgotten in the first place and she had no right to take back what she had so willfully thrown away, even if it was her very identity. Eleanor, lost princess of Borovia, lived a lie and will die a lie, for as far as she would be inclined to think so.

Just then, Eleanor raised her head and found that her fingers were still closed over the pendant. Hastily, she wiped her tears from her face and returned to looking at the Lion's head. She whimpered, "All I want is to know what happened to me," she said, almost as if she was expecting a reply. Just when the princess was about to surrender herself again to her tears, the Lion's head began to glow, and its eyes shown the brightest, so bright that you could see the lines the detailed each eye. Eleanor's breath caught in her throat as the head opened its great gilded jaw and the princess heard, as if from within her, a fierce roar. She was at once forced to her feet and when she did, her eyes met the glass of the mirror. Eleanor froze in place. The mirror was black, as if stained by the darkness of the night during the very heart of a cold winter.

Eleanor looked closely and the blackness of the mirror was interrupted by mist that passed fluidly like silk. The princess suddenly felt cold, and very, very scared. But even then, she could not bring herself to look away from the mirror.

Her reflection appeared shortly after the last signs of mist cleared the way, and then, through the mirror, Eleanor could see that she was in a very different set of quarters and it was the coldest of nights. Her reflection changed into that of the Child, sleeping soundly in bed, she saw in the goblet of wine and she gasped.

The Child was roused roughly awake by a maidservant cloaked in black. The mirror seemed to present Eleanor with every face it could show her, and she saw, despite the dim lighting of the room, that the maidservant had the most emerald green eyes she had ever seen in her life. Her face was very pale and frightened, as if she was knowledgeable of a horrifying event that would take place in no moment at all. The mirror changed its viewpoint, and Eleanor found herself watching a most bloody and chaotic battle, of foot soldiers and terribly ugly creatures. But what creatures, for Eleanor quickly recalled what she had been reading in the library. These creatures were those who pledged allegiance to the most hated being in Narnia, The White Witch. The princess looked on as each and every soldier of Borovia was killed, either by magic or by opposing weapon, and fell in a heap on the ground, crying out curses or pleading for mercy. None would be granted, however, and it was made clear as they drew their last breath with the accompaniment of their own blood.

The viewpoint changed again and now there was an old passageway, and there again was the unknown maidservant and the Child, conversing with each other as if they were in argument. And the maidservant was not unknown anymore, for Eleanor found herself whispering the name, 'Maria.' The Child wailed in protest and the maid forced the chain of a necklace around her little neck. Eleanor clamped a hand over her mouth. She was the Child! She was that very little girl, and her maid was helping her make an escape to safety. As much as Eleanor now wanted to rid off the vivid imagery, to the extent that she wanted to destroy that very mirror, she still wanted to know what went wrong that night, and why she was the only escapee of her country.

Her inquiries were soon answered, as the mirror changed again and Eleanor found herself looking on an open grassy plain that seemed to be behind a great castle. The maidservant, Maria she is now called, was talking to the Child but the little girl seemed disinclined to listen. Then, there was an commotion to the side of the two, and Eleanor saw why and who.

Jadis herself was smiling victoriously and the mirror presented Eleanor with the clearest image of the witch Eleanor would have never wished to see. The Empress had a face that would have been considered most beautiful, were it not for her evil being, and her frighteningly dark gaze. Through the mirror, she looked right at Eleanor and pointed at her, "Dvélivrevich!" she screamed.

Eleanor grimaced and shut her eyes, wishing that when she opened them again, the mirror would be blank. But it was not to be yet, for when the princess did look again, she was greeted with the Maria's face now having given way for death to take her. And Eleanor allowed the first course of her tears to begin. She watched as the Child wept most bitterly and Jadis taunted her with fear.

The mirror presented yet another face with no delay, of an elderly woman with piercing grey eyes and red hair let loose around her agitated face.

"Mama…" Eleanor whispered and she held out her hand to the mirror, longing to touch the face, but as she did she realized the woman she was looking at was now dead, and her face was not pale, but white. Dreadfully white. Eleanor sobbed and saw another face. This time of a young man, perhaps slightly older than herself, and he had auburn hair and hazel eyes. He was the Young Man also from the goblet of wine.

"Ludwig…"

Ludwig also fell dead, his eyes looking directly at Eleanor for a moment before he breathed his last. Eleanor's face crumpled in pain and so much sorrow.

A young woman appeared before her, and her features were very much like Eleanor's, only more beautiful and refined. She looked as if she could have been the happiest woman in Borovia because of her bright eyes, but her expression was clearly of fear. Eleanor watched as the viewpoint shifted once more and showed Mathilda pulling the Child forcefully to run ahead. Eleanor realized she did it for protection, and Mathilda fell to the ground with a spear running through her, her mouth crudely covered in the blood she choked on. The Child screamed and wept some more—

"No more, please!" Eleanor screamed, now blinded by her tears as she stared at the mirror. Then, there was a flash of gold and Eleanor tore her gaze from the mirror, blinded by light.

When she looked again, she was only met by her own reflection. Eleanor's eyes widened in shock and she held a hand over her mouth in an effort to keep from crying out.

Silence.

Her chest heaved as she gasped for breath and the princess turned her back to the mirror. And she saw a few paces away, the necklace lying in a perfect circle on the floor. How it had come to be so, she was most unsure. Eleanor was very much afraid now, but she made her way to the necklace, and at once she saw the Lion's head.

I will be with you all the way.

Eleanor furrowed her brow and suddenly…strangely felt very calm. She let out a breath and knelt on the floor, feeling warmer and warmer as she neared the necklace. But the warmth was not warmth alone, and it felt as if she was being embraced, and it had a gold of its own. How to imagine golden warmth is something one may think impossible, for it does sound rather preposterous, but Eleanor felt such, and she no longer felt her pain. There was a safety around her now, as if she had been secured and partially healed of her wounds. The princess swallowed as she picked up the pendant from the floor and held it in an open palm. The Lion stared back at her, and as Eleanor looked into its eyes, she felt consoled, and her heart returned to its normal and steady beat.

Eleanor wept again, but this time her tears were more of relief, and she held the pendant close to her heart.

Slowly, the princess rose from the floor and hesitantly returned to the mirror, looking through its clear glass and at her own reflection. She carefully wore the necklace and her brow creased upward in confusion. It was no longer radiating of its previous warmth, but now felt very cold against her skin. The princess sat at her vanity.

And as the lady continued to stare, she held up her hand again and reached for the mirror, and whispered, "You are the child."

Author's Note:

(Hey, vrangr, where is the Edmund/Eleanor interaction?!)

It's coming, it's coming!

Wow, I just realized I paired Edmund with another 'E.' Anyway, I'm sure some of you might already be wondering why Edmund and Eleanor haven't been having much to go with lately, but to keep it realistic (and for poor Eleanor's sake) we have to go slow ;D Phase 1: Getting to know you. So we're still in Phase 1, ok?

Ah, and what in the Lion's Mane is Ortemius going to do now, hmmm? Well, I will update as soon as I can! And 'pauvre Eleanor,' anyone there, wanna offer her some consolation? Lol.

Again, thanks to all you readers!

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