Hey NarniaFan! How are you? Is your mother well? How about your friend? I hear she's a Lucian fan now. That makes me very happy.

Tell your friend not to worry. The story is indeed reorganized. From now on, the newest chapter will be the last chapter. When I post another new chapter, I will move it back towards the rest of the chapters. For instance, this is chapter twenty-four, but is in the twenty-seventh slot. When I post chapter twenty-five, I will move chapter twenty-four, so that it is right after chapter twenty-three.

When the story is completely finished, I will move the two one-shots to the very end of the story. This way, each chapter flows smoothly, starting with the prologue, then chapter one, then chapter two, then chapter three… and then it will be finished with the epilogue, of course.

If you go through the chapter list, you will see that all the extras have been removed. This should make reading things easier.

And now, chapter twenty-four.

There it was. That marvelous declaration that could heal nations and start wars. Cleopatra and Marc Antony destroyed Egypt with it. Romeo and Juliet poisoned themselves with, and because of it, Caspian destroyed Lucy's belief in him.

"What did you just say?" she asked calmly as she arranged her skirt over her legs. Caspian did not see the danger in her question.

"I love you," he responded as if he couldn't believe it himself. He said it again, with so much joy and pride that it was easy to forget the morning - for anyone but Lucy, at any rate. Such adoration only made her heart hurt worse.

"I really do love you." How pleasantly surprised he sounded. She sounded that way whenever she got a free scoop of ice cream at Baskin Robbins.

So maybe associating human death with junk food was a clear sign that she was not thinking clearly.

"I can't believe it," he continued on without a care in the world. "I've been too afraid to say it, but now that I have… I feel so much better. Oh, it feels so good to say it aloud. For too long, I felt like three gallons of water crammed into a one-gallon pail. It's freeing really."

"Shut. Up."

He laughed. "No. I'm serious! I love you."

"No. You don't."

Behind her back Caspian fell silent in shock. Lucy was acting surprisingly calm. She was very much focused on her skirt. The rain made it surprisingly sheer. She could see her legs through the clingy fabric. A few hours ago she was in love with the fabric. Now it just annoyed her.

"What do you mean? I love you - very much."

She should have known better. Susan wore white to every wet t-shirt contest she ever competed in. At least Lucy was wearing underwear though. Susan was more than happy to 'forget' her bra. Once she even encouraged Lucy to do the same. Lucy had never felt more creeped out.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" His voice was closer than before, maybe just a few inches behind her. "This is a good thing. You could be queen," he said as he laid his hand on her shoulder. His fingers knocked her from her idle thoughts right back into reality – right back to the execution.

Which is why Lucy pulled her arm away, coiled her fist, and swung her elbow sharply backwards.

Straight into Caspian's crotch.

It made her feel so much better.

Caspian choked and fell to his knees, his hands clutching his injured anatomy. For the nth time that day he felt like puking, only now he was castrated. Black stars danced across his vision, the minutes turned to eons, and Caspian suffered the worst sort of pain.

"This is what death feels lie, isn't it?" he whispered in agony. So much for bearing an heir and a spare. "I think I need a doctor."

"No, you need to listen to me!" Lucy shrieked like a banshee as she shot to her feet. He could not even move, and here she was as spry as a filly. Caspian suddenly wanted to be a woman. Actually, Caspian probably was a woman now.

"I can't believe you can say that right now! A man has been executed, and here you are, telling me you love me? Are you fucking crazy?"

"I won't be fucking anything for a long time. I can't even breathe right now." By the stars, this was sheer torture! Even his toes hurt! Women had it so easy. How were the defenseless, if all it took to incapacitate a man was good aim?

"If you had loved me at all, you would've stopped it! As it is, I want you to die."

"Don't worry," he gasped. "I'm half-way there."

Then she kicked him in the stomach and stomped away into the Forbidden Forest.

Now he was three-quarters of the way towards death.

A man was still dead, but at least Caspian was down a testicle or two. For some reason she felt so good about herself. She would have to remember that it only took one hit to the balls. Two would probably be lethal. Peter and Edmund would have a soul punching wildcat on their hands if they ever crossed her again. Only the movie 'Teeth' made her feel like a bigger feminist. Except she no longer needed a vagina dentata, as long as her aim was decent!

Doris, however, she probably needed. Those woods were dark. Everywhere she turned there were vines and branches, and the ground was so woven with roots that her feet got caught several times. At least it was not raining, although the humidity made everything perilously slick.

Really, what was the big fuss? It was just a forest, a very familiar one at that.

"I've been here before. But how?" she asked the tightly packed trees as they groaned against one another. Their leaves so thick that they sheltered her from the storm, but they also blocked out what little light there was.

If she had been there before, then things had changed. This forest was just so dark and threatening. That was not the emotion she remembered. She recalled… liberation and sweetness. Lucy also remembered escaping something, but what? The forest itself?

If her memory was correct, then there was a lake. It was blue, like a sapphire, and smooth as glass. But there was no way she had ever been there in person. Caspian never brought her here, it was forbidden. It was farther than she had ever ridden too. There were things though, things that were clearly recognizable, or they had been at one time.

"The trees were bare, like winter, but I arrived in the spring." There was no one to talk to, but she spoke aloud nevertheless. It made her feel less alone.

Those pretty ballet flats Caspian had given her were useless. All they did was slide off her feet and get caught in the ferns. She had to walk slowly, just to make sure that she did not lose them. If any animal gave chase, death was assured. That was not a huge concern though. The terrain was too rugged for a bear to move quickly, and there were too many trees for a pack of wolves to run freely.

Only a big cat could spring about easily, like a jaguar, or a tiger, maybe even a leopard. Those animals were not indigenous to Narnia. The last of the big game animals to be eradicated were lions.

Lucy gasped.

"The lion! The lion from the book was here."

As was the glimmer of light in the distance, and the opening in the canopy that went with it.

This was her dreamscape turned into reality. This is where Caspian took her skating.

"It was more that a dream." And maybe it was enough to get her home. Maybe the lion lead her there!

Lucy took off in a sudden sprint, darting through the trees as fast as she could. Like Cinderella, she lost one of her precious slippers, but there was no pain. Hope lent her feet an unimaginable swiftness. Whatever waited for her in that clearing was a first-class ticket back to England.

"Run, Lucy. Run!" And run she did, until the light grew brighter, until she could see the grey sky above her. So focused on the sky was Lucy, that she did not see the ground beneath her feet; but it would not have mattered.

Because there was no ground. Neither was there anyone waiting for her.

The only thing she found was a steep bluff and a terrible, bone shattering fall.

Caspian was emotionally and physically broken, and was almost unable to ride back to the castle – what with his mangled genitalia. His heart hurt more though. Lucy did not love him. Whatever she felt, and was the furthest thing from love possible.

It was his pride that suffered the worst though. Not only were his advances rebuffed, but now he would not be wooing anyone. He laid himself bare before her eyes, and not only were his advances rebuffed, but now he would not be wooing anyone. How mortifying!

It was a rare day indeed that Caspian fell victim to his own vanity. But he was a prince. Women threw themselves at his feet, just so they could be graced with a smile. He had no trouble finding bed partners. Male servants questioned their sexuality whenever he was in the room. Caspian dined with scholars and sat with kings. There was no better hunter in all the civilized kingdoms.

Pity turned to arrogance by the time he trotted back to the castle. Caspian was prime real estate in the marriage market. There would be other women. Lucy was by no means the last fish in the sea, even if she was a great catch.

Once in the stables he slid off his horse, and condescendingly ordered the stable master to attend to Destrier.

"My horse is tired. Massage him with warm almond oil, then give him a hot bath. Bring him apples and sugar cubes as well. He is to dine like a king tonight."

The stable master curtsied fearfully and took the war horse's bridle. The prince was acting like his uncle, something he vowed never to do. This ill treatment, rude as it was, would make for worthy gossip the next morning.

No servant was saved from Caspian's wrath as he marched towards his room. He criticized the maids for wrinkling his bed linens, snarled at the cooks for turning his sirloin into mince meat, and reduced a six-year-old to tears for breathing too loud. He was their prince, Caspian reasoned. He could do whatever he wanted, especially to such lower life forms.

Before entering his room, he barked out demands, ordering a barrel of the castle's finest mead, and a bottle of the strongest rum this side of Calormen.

Though the wait was barely five minutes, to Caspian it seemed like five hours.

"How lazy," he hissed to the young boy who delivered the mead. "Where's my rum?"

The servant boy gulped and lowered his eyes respectfully. "It is being fetched, milord."

"By whom? I want a name."

"Gwendolen, your highness."

Gwen? As in his oldest friend?

"You may go," Caspian said dismissively. The boy was worth nothing, but Gwen he could use for his own ends.

When she entered the room, bottle in hand, Caspian noticed that she was almost pretty. Her skin was clear, her figure was light, and her hair was black with no color variation. She was on the exceptional side of ordinary, but nothing more. Perhaps that it is why they were friends. Gwen was of no desire to him, so he felt no need to impress her – even if she did love him.

The girl was startled as Caspian snatched the bottle greedily from her hands. This was not her mild-mannered, good-humored friend. This was a monster in prince's clothing.

"I'm going to talk now," he told her in a manner-of-fact sort of way. "You're going to listen."

Gwen swallowed apprehensively and nodded, her hands fisted in her skirt. He looked like he was going to berate her, but for what? She had not served him since that day she bathed his pet.

"I just confessed my love to Lucy," he spat out bitterly. Gwen felt what little hope she had left die a miserable death. So it was true. He did not love her. It was like a hammer had been taken to her spleen.

"She refused me, that little minx." Caspian snarled and threw the bottle against the wall. It exploded, sending shards of glass out like a firework's blast. Gwen gasped in fear, and winced as the smell of alcohol filled the room. He was so livid that she feared for herself. Perhaps this would be the one night he exercised his ferocity through physical violence.

"It hurts, Gwen. It hurts more than I thought it would."

But maybe, just maybe, it would be the night that Caspian really opened up to her; and with that hope in mind, she braved the lion's wrath.

"I'm listening, Caspian. Tell me everything."

Lucy screamed as she fell down a nearly vertical slope. The sides of the sinkhole were muddy and strewn with rocks and splintered tree branches. The debris tore clear through her pale skin, cutting deep gashes from ankles to thighs. Every inch of her body was covered in silt. Even her eyes had dirt in them.

As she tried to dig her hands into the hill, several fingernails were torn off, right down to the quick. The was a horrible cracking sound from her left wrist, and pain shot like lightning up to her shoulder. When she finally hit the bottom, Lucy was a mess of blood, bruises and broken bones. However, there was no rest for the weary. There was no solid ground beneath her feet. It was a mire of muck and slime. The rain had turned the dirt into soup.

She tried to cling to the walls of the hole, but it was futile. They were simply too slick, and her hands were useless anyway. She would have to climb nearly fifty feet to make it out of there, when she could barely move five inches.

Poor Lucy. She had fallen and could not get up. Resiliently, she tried to pull herself up, but it was simply too steep. This went on for nearly ten minutes before she had to give up. As her adrenaline dissipated, the mind-numbing ache settled in as if she had been hit by a train. Lucy tried to cry, but any time she opened her mouth, mud and rained washed down her throat.

Fortunately, well, as fortunately as the situation allowed, there was a boulder in the center of the depression. It had a reasonably flat top, one she could lie on. Somehow she mustered enough energy to swim to it, and even more amazingly, crawl up it. But with only her feet and right hand, the process was exhausting. Once she was up there, she saw her left hand. Her thumb and forefinger were bent at bizarre angles, and her wrist was this hideous shade of plum. Through her pallid skin, she could see several broken veins.

But she was alive. That was a plus.

Soreness in her back forced her to lay on her belly. So caked with sludge was she, that anyone looking down at her would see nothing but a muddy tree branch.

"I can't wait this out," she whispered to herself. "Someone will come looking."

Then, one side of the sinkhole, already weakened by the rain, broke off and tumbled into the abyss, sending the mud level up another foot.

"Or maybe I'm going to die."

Oh no! Lucy is trapped, and only reviews will free her!