The Lion sobbed. "Narnia! Narnia! Narnia! Where are you?"
No one answered.
The Lion blinked tears away. After a moment of watching and waiting, he carried on. It was like this everywhere he went. The turrets of Cair Paravel, the red roofs of Beruna, the Western Woods at the far end of Narnia—all was quiet.
Everyone was hiding. Everyone was whispering to one another in the woods. No one wanted to show their faces, and no one wanted to say what they were up to.
But Aslan knew. He knew they were hiding from him. He knew every word being spoken, every thought they kept in their heads.
They all wanted to be Kings and Queens of Narnia—and a pox on the Lion, for all they cared.
Something rustled in the trees. The Lion stopped, and his heart leapt. It was a fox, a noble and proud fox, its great bushy tail bobbing up and down with every step. But his gait was heavy and angry. Something terrible was on his mind.
Aslan knew what it was. And it broke his heart. That fox wanted to be king, just like everyone else, and there were stronger animals who could take the throne away from him. But the fox wanted to be king. He would not be happy until someone laid a crown between his ears.
The fox looked into the face of the Lion. For a long, terrible moment, the vulpine's face was vague and confused—as though he were looking into the face of a stranger—but a flash of recognition filled his eyes, then a cloud of disappointment.
"Oh, it's you."
The Lion blinked away tears and gave a slow, solemn nod. "My son."
After a restless fidget, the fox bobbed his head. "If you'll excuse me."
And he turned tail and trotted back to the woods.
A moment later, a voice rumbled from deep in the grove. "Who was that?" And the fox said, "Nobody. Let's carry on with the negotiations."
Aslan knew this was coming. He knew the Kings and Queens had to go back. It was time for them to be children again, in their own world.
And no one pressed him for an answer. A month ago, he already told them what they needed to know. Now, the thrones were empty, and that was all that mattered. Narnia wanted to rule itself, and bother all this business about a Lion.
That was what they said to Aslan before they sent him away.
Fifteen years ago, the banquet hall shook with noise. "All hail King Peter! All hail King Edmund! All hail Queen Susan! All hail Queen Lucy!"
The Lion's voice was golden thunder. "Narnia, Narnia, Narnia—rejoice! Winter is over. Spring has returned. The evil time is over and done."
And the fox stepped out of the crowd, holding a wine glass in its paw.
"Hail Aslan!" he said. "I beseech all Narnians to join me in a toast!"
"Hear, hear!" said the crowd. And glasses and goblets rose from the tables and sparkled in the sunset.
"To High King Peter the Magnificent, whose reign will be like the dawn of a new day: full of light and splendor and glory. To King Edmund the Just, whose reign will bring righteousness and truth to this land. To Queen Susan the Gentle, whose reign will bring kindness and peace back to a land that has waited so long for them to come. To Queen Lucy the Valiant, whose reign will teach us all to love one another with courage and without fear."
And the fox gave an even bigger smile.
"And to the Lion, the King of all High Kings, whose reign will never end, whose majesty will never leave this land, and whose sacrifice for King Edmund, and for all of Narnia, will never be forgotten."
The Lion's eyes brimmed with tears as he crossed into the Western Wild and Narnia scrolled away behind him.
You didn't forget, he said. Because you didn't know it to begin with.
A/n: Kudos to treehugger00 for pointing something out. It is a little strange for me to write "TO BE CONTINUED" on a story that's complete.
I've been playing around with some ideas for a Narnia fic, and this story is one of them. It may turn into a novel. If it does, I will start an all-new story. If it doesn't, this story will be its own fic.