A/N: If there are typos in this, I apologize. PM me and I can fix them. I'm exhausted, and it's late, and I've been writing for hours. But I'm too excited that we're finally here to wait any longer before posting. I hope you're having as much fun as I am! Leave me a review and tell me what you think!

Today is the day, I remind myself as I wash up to prepare breakfast. Tonight we'll tell them everything.

As much as I'm dreading explaining the truth to Rose and Caspian, I know this conversation is important. I wanted to make the moment important, too, and special. So Peter and I came up with a plan.

We asked the professor to be there. He protested joining in on such an intimate family moment, but Peter and I have learned he knows a lot more about Narnia than he lets on. We want him there, as backup, in case things get... too emotional. To be the voice of reason, like he was with Lucy, back in the day.

We'll have a special family night, after supper. The children have come to think of the professor as family—at least, Rose has; I can't read Caspian at all these days—so it will easily be all five of us, having a special night in. Not that we don't spend every night in, the five of us. But tonight I'm making a special dinner. Our eating has improved considerably since moving to out here and keeping a garden, but this will be even more momentous. Peter, the professor, and I managed to get together the ingredients and recipes for stuffing, bacon, potatoes, a roast pheasant, gravy, kale tips, coffee, plum pudding, and currant jelly. It will be a dinner fit for the queen at Christmas!

The morning passes without incident. Peter recently found work in the nearest town, so he and the professor left before sunrise for the hour ride to the train platform. The professor returns just after breakfast. He quizzes Caspian on geography while Rose completes a set of maths problems at the dining table. The three of them then share a lesson in rhetoric. Meanwhile, I do the washing and think about the speech I've prepared for tonight.

Narnia. The bedtime stories. The kings and queens. Their father. I know everything I need to tell them, but it's all so much. My parents. Edmund and Lucy. Aslan... What should I start with? How do I begin?

We all take a break for lunch. I asked the professor to keep the children outside and distracted while I work on supper, so their usual after-lunch science lesson has been moved to a before-supper experiment in the garden. The professor takes Rose to his office for a history lesson. Caspian's ahead of his sister in a few subjects, so there's always one lesson a day during which she studies and he has a free hour.
I expect him to spend it reading in the bedroom, like he usually does. I found him in there once, when I needed to ask him something, and he poked his head out of the closet. Apparently there's a small window in there that he likes to read by. He's a strange child, but he's intelligent and polite, so I leave him be. Today, though, he brings his book to the kitchen, where I'm cleaning the dishes from lunch. He sets his book on the table.

There's several minutes of silence before I realize he's watching me, not reading. "Caspian? Is something the matter?"

"Can I ask you something, Mum?"

I nod, ignoring my quickened pace. There's no way he could know what's planned for tonight. It's just a coincidence. "Of course. What is it, dear?" I scrub the plate in front of me the slightest bit harder.

He waits a long moment before clearing his throat. "What is this?"

I glance over to see what he's got, expecting... I don't know what, but not that. I almost drop the plate when I see the medieval-looking illustration in his book, but I tighten my grip just in time. It's too late to hide my expression or my sharp intake of breath, but I try to recompose myself, neutralize my face, clear my throat.

"Where did you get that?"

His dark eyebrows furrow. "The office. There's plenty of other books like it. I haven't read many of them, but I've read enough." He closes the book and sets it on the table. "What is this?" he asks again.

I swallow, but it does nothing to alleviate the lump in my throat. I turn and rinse off the plate in my hands, setting it with the others resting on a towel on the counter. I pick the dirty flatware up from the sink and begin scrubbing it before responding, unable to make eye contact. "What do you mean?"

"Mum!" he yells. "Tell me what's going on."

I drop the flatware, startled. It clatters loudly in the sink. This is a tone I've never heard before. I stare at my son. The spark in his eyes, the color in his cheeks... he has never looked more like his father than he does now, in passionate anger.

My voice is barely more than a whisper. "Caspian, I..."

"I'm tired of this!" he shouts. "Tired of the questions and the secrets and the lies! Why won't you tell us the truth, Mum? Why are you hiding everything? I'm not a child anymore!"

The professor's head peeks out the office doorway, a curious expression on his face. Rose stands behind him, looking genuinely frightened. None of us have ever heard Caspian yell like this before. I don't think he's ever yelled in his life.

"I never lied to you," I say quietly. It's the only response I can muster up in the moment. I need time, preparation, a minute to collect my thoughts—

"You might as well have!" He grabs the book up from the table, flipping through so quickly I'm afraid he'll rip the pages. He shoves the open book forward, the same illustration as before. "Who are they, Mum? Who are the kings and queens of Narnia?"

The image is clearly Narnian in style. There are four people on horseback wearing noble medieval attire. Two girls and two boys smile as they ride through a forest. The four figures all wear different crowns. I'm honestly not sure whether I've seen this particular illustration before, but the people are as familiar as breathing to me.

"Caspian, I can explain. Tonight. Peter and I—"

"No!" His face darkens, eyebrows pulled together, eyes dark and stormy. "No more excuses! Why didn't you tell us anything? Why... why not just—ugh!" His voice cracks as his eyes fill with tears. "I can't believe you! You kept this all from us! I hate you!"

He stomps, rattling everything in the tiny kitchen. Rose takes a cautious step out from behind the professor. "Caspian—"

Caspian whirls around to face his sister. "She lied to us, Rose! They all did! There's so much you don't know—we don't know—about our dad, and Narnia, and Mum and Peter and the professor. They never tell us anything! Don't you want to know?"

Rose's expression begins with fear, but Caspian's mention of their father startles her. Her adventurous side conquers her trepidation. The professor and I stand breathlessly still as she walks slowly over to her brother. "What do you mean?" she asks, still quiet, but excited now, too.

"Look at this," he says, a hint of his usual gentle self returning to his voice. He hands the open book to his sister, who stares at it a moment. I can tell she doesn't understand the significance. He points at the older boy and girl, the blond king and brunette queen. "Look closely, Rose. Who do they look like?"

"You mean... I mean, they do look like Mum and Uncle Peter, but why would that—"

"There's so much you don't know," Caspian says again, almost smiling. He's the perfect image of a doting, protective older brother. How is he only eleven? "Narnia was real, Rose, and it's all in the professor's books."

Damn those books, I think, then immediately regret it. My children shouldn't need books to know about their parents, their family. I should have told them everything. "Caspian, Rose, I'm—"

"Just shut up, Mum!" Caspian turns to me, his passion and vehemence immediately returning. "You never told us anything, so we'll figure it out without you!" He takes the book in one hand and Rose's hand in the other. "Come on, Rose, let me show you."

Caspian runs across the living space to the bedroom, his sister in tow. He slams the door behind them.

"Wait! Caspian, what..." I have no idea what he means. What's going on?

"Oh my," the professor murmurs, staring wide-eyed at the closed bedroom door. "Oh dear."

"What?" I walk to the professor, placing one hand on his arm. "What do you mean? Do you know what he's up to?"

"I think I do, dear, and you're not going to like it."

"What do you—" I am interrupted yet again as the professor lunges forward, running to the bedroom door. His pace absolutely does not befit his age; he's as excited as a child at Christmas. He flings the door open and shuffles around the bed. I follow, surprised to see the room empty. I know Caspian likes to read in the closet, but Rose is hardly even in this room. Can they really both fit in that tiny closet?

"Oh my, indeed," the professor exclaims. "You won't like this at all."

He pulls the closet door open, peeking inside before leaning back to let me look. It takes a moment for my mind to register what I'm seeing.
This isn't a closet at all. It's a room, small like everything else in this cottage, but big enough to count as a bedroom. However, there's no bed in here. There's no furniture, nothing at all, except one tall, dark, wooden structure against the back wall.

"No," I whisper, stumbling over the professor's feet to run into the room. "It can't be. You still—no..."

I grasp the familiar door and pull it open. There are no coats inside, and no children, either. I run my hands along the sturdy back panel of the wardrobe. "No, no, no, no..."

A sob rips out of my throat. My body falls back against the wall of the wardrobe as panic threatens to take over. But no, there must be a way to fix this. They can't be gone. I gasp for breath and jump to my feet, facing the professor.

"Tell me you know how to fix this."

He shakes his head, his excitement finally giving way to... not sadness, just pity. "I'm sorry, dear. But you know the rules. You children have finally discovered Narnia."

END OF PART TWO