Disclaimer: the people in this chapter quite clearly belong to the Kings and Queens, and not me.

Beta'd by trustingHim17!

"You are going out without your cloak again, Your Majesty." Oreius' soft tone belied his stern words, and Lucy turned to smile up at him, the warm firelight from the doorways down the hallway making him even more imposing than usual.

"It'll get in my way while dancing."

"I do not think young Daughters of Eve have the strength to dance the entire night, Your Majesty. Please take your cloak. And two of the guards."

Lucy paused from turning towards the cloak closet by the exit the Four used the most. "I don't want to take any guards, Oreius." She tried to say it firmly, like Peter giving commands, but her voice went high when she said his name, as if in question.

"Then I shall ask two of your friends to go with you, Your Majesty. Merely to make sure you have a good time, of course."

Lucy made a face. Most of the guard could be called her friends, and she knew it. "Who?" she asked, resigned.

Oreius smiled, and she felt better about acquiescing. Oreius did not smile often enough. "Ferela, if it please you. And the other I shall leave up to you."

"Mr Tumnus?" she asked hopefully, only to Oreius shake his head.

"He would gladly die for Your Majesty, but I do not think his death could accomplish much towards your safety. A guard, Your Majesty." He hesitated. "If it makes you feel better, I insisted on guards for both of your brothers as well. They also attend the festival tonight; Por, Leo, Salyte, and Sethen go with them."

"But I thought I was taking two friends…" Lucy trailed off when he remained immovable, just waiting. "Then would you like to come?" she asked suddenly, and was pleased to see him blink.

"Me?"

But Lucy could tell his tone held more surprise than objection, and she decided to bring some of her recent rhetoric lessons into play. The librarian said they were good for winning arguments. "Aren't you my friend, Oreius?"

"Of course, Your Ma—" Oreius broke off. "Your Majesty is learning far too much from your brother," he muttered.

"I learned that from the teachers you helped assign. Please?" Lucy stared imploringly up at him, reverting to the way she knew best to try to win him over.

Oreius glanced down at her and caved, bowing. "I would be delighted to accompany Your Majesty." His tone once again contradicted his words, as he sounded anything but delighted. Still, Lucy smiled more widely as she spun towards the large wardrobe, thinking it would be a splendid opportunity to try to persuade Oreius to have some fun. She ran back towards him and held out her hand.

He took it in his own large, warm hand, and led her towards the door.

"Ferela?" Lucy asked.

"Waiting for us outside."

Oreius opened the door, and Lucy shivered, suddenly much colder. The night stood black, the firelight from inside barely illuminating the path towards the woods, and the wind blew chill and hard once again. A large shadow detached from the rest, heading towards Lucy, and she shrunk a little more closely into Oreius till she recognised the Wolf.

"Ferela," she acknowledged, trying to keep her voice from going high again. Ferela leaned against Lucy's other side, though the Wolf did not speak, and Lucy felt the Wolf's warmth.

These were the soldiers Aslan had sent them. She was going to help the Narnians Aslan had also given them to rule. That was why she was going to the dance, so she took a breath in and a step forward, into the blackness of the night.

Her guard said little on the way to the dance. Oreius let Ferela lead, as the Wolf's night vision was better than his.

In the silence, Lucy began hearing the piping once more. Faint, fluting, touching her ears on the hands of the wind, now a vivid note and now gone. But always, always calling with a tone that set her heart to longing.

The more clearly she heard it, the more the leaves rustled. She wondered if the leaves on the Dancing Lawn actually moved with the Fauns in a dance of their own, and then she wondered where the dancers had learned this haunting tune.

It sounded—it was a little like the tune she'd heard Mr. Tumnus play, the first time she'd ever heard him. It made her uneasy.* But that one had been to send her to sleep, and this one—like last night, it made her want to dance, to fly on wings she did not have.

"But it's the same," she murmured to herself, shivering a little.

"What, Your Majesty?" Oreius paused, halting the three of them as he waited for her answer.

"I thought the music changed on the seventh day of the dance? The song I can hear is the same as last night." Lucy strained her eyes through the dark, looking for any hint of light beside the growing moon.

"You can hear music, Your Majesty?" Oreius asked sharply.

"Can't you?"

"I cannot," Oreius answered in a low tone. He stood thinking. "Ferela?"

"Nothing," she growled. Oreius considered for a moment more.

"We are going back," he said at last, but Lucy pulled on his hand and stood firm.

"Why?"

"Your Majesty, you've been distracted these last three nights. Every night you've gone to the garden. If you can hear what a Wolf can't—"

Lucy realised they were right, that most of her had wanted to help the distraught Fauns, but there had been a part that had been restless for a different reason. The reason that drew her to the garden each night, these last three nights exactly. She didn't know what it was, or why. But—"If I can hear what a Wolf can't, then I've a better chance than most of finding out what is happening. And you won't let go of me. Not you or Ferela. I'll be safe, and we'll make the festival safe as well." She could not see his face in the dark, but the tilt of his head meant he was considering—and unhappy. "Please, Oreius. I'm their Queen. I have to help."

"Your word," Oreius growled at last, much more unhappily than his agreement before. "Your sworn word, Your Majesty, that you will not let go of my hand for this entire night. You will go nowhere without at least one of us."

"I promise, by Aslan." Lucy pulled on his hand a little—she knew it didn't help to make her look older, but something about Oreius felt so safe and father-like that she couldn't help it sometimes. And Oreius fell into step, silent once more, while Ferela walked pressed against Lucy's side. Lucy kept a hand on the thick fur of her neck, glad to have something so warm. Even with her cloak, she was cold.

And the music still sounded in her ears, calling her to dance.

*BellatrixTheStar might not remember, because we discussed it very long ago, but she helped by bringing up the pipes and how Lucy might feel about hearing faun music after Mr. Tumnus' almost-kidnapping.

Also, please note I changed the rating on this story to a T. I've finished chapter four and five, and those went a bit more chilling than I expected, so I wanted people to be aware.