A/N--Thank you to all reviewers, it really means a lot to me that you've taken the time to read this through and told me what you thought. And also to the clichebusters who have led me away from the Mary Sue light at the end of the tunnel. I baked a batch of cyber cookies just for you guys (hands them out).

And to those who read without read without reviewing…be warned. I shall smite you with my mighty…um…smiter…as soon as I find it of course….(throws stuff around looking for it). Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer-- Crack the code and get a free, hot-looking centaur, or a toaster! kcab reh noseh to lce htyl no. g niht ynan woton seo dar im sim.

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No amount of preparation would have readied Sabra for what burst out of the forest and into the clearing. It was not man or horse, but both; a centaur. Although she had seen them in drawings and movies, none had done them justice. The being that stood before her was tall and majestic. He blew into the horn he carried on a leather strap; its blare sounding over the treetops and corresponding shouts could be heard not so far away.

"Orieus," Peter greeted, making his way towards the centaur.

A large group of Narnians made their way into the clearing, making a circle around their king. He then proceeded to make one of those long winded speeches kings always made, the type she always avoided listening to if she could help it, so she began backing away, silently. A feat next to impossible back home, on account of her platypus-like flipper feet. Her brain registered this fact and the uneasiness she felt grew as she settled down to wait for Peter to finish his pep talk.

After awhile, Kara found her and led her to a small, changing tent, which was essentially made up of three tapestries strung up to offer her a little modesty while she slipped into some riding clothes. As the makeshift tent was being taken down, Sabra was reintroduced to Andrew, who she threw her arms around and planted a kiss on his nose. Andrew snorted embarrassedly. He told her that it had been announced that they were to return to Cair Paravel immediately and that she was to ride up front with the king. She nodded.

The group traveled at a slow pace to compensate for King Peter's injury, and this gave Edmund, Peter and Orieus enough time to bombard her with questions. Where was she from? How did she come to be here? How did she know how to use a bow and arrow? She struggled to come up with answers with the first two (should she tell the truth or make up some story?), and so decided to answer the third. Even as she came up with a response, something inside her just clicked. She froze in her saddle.Her little adventure over the past few days were unsettlingly familiar, they sounded like the stories her friend Faye had made her read some time ago. What were they called...Fan fiction?

Edmund noticed her horrified expression and asked her what was wrong. Sabra ignored him, instead focusing on her thoughts. Recalling what had happened over the last few days, she came to realise more and more that it was true. So far, she had been abducted by the bad guy, rescued by the good guys, fired an arrow accurately when before this she barely grazed the target board, her hair was perfect and worst of all, she had fallen in love with the stud muffin of the chronicles.

"Lady?" Andrew asked, jolting her out of her thoughts.

"Forgive me," she said, "I do not feel so well."

They refrained from asking her any more questions and decided to break camp early for her benefit.

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During the remainder of the ride back to Cair Paravel, Sabra managed to evade all questions about herself with a smokescreen of random questions aimed at the (for lack of a better word) questioner. There was once Peter had almost cornered her to the point where she was on the verge of spilling everything, when Orieus, who had come bearing a message from the two queens, rescued her in the nick of time. As she exhaled in relief, she eavesdropped on the conversation going on between the two kings and the centaur, learning that they were to reach Glasswater Creek by nightfall and meet Susan and Lucy there before carrying on to Cair Paravel.

Sabra had read the Chronicles of Narnia some time ago, when she had received them as a gift from her uncle and found she could visualize the maps of Narnia. In her mind's eye, she could see their exact position. This only increased her uneasiness over the whole Mary Sue issue, but pushing those thoughts aside, she could feel the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. By the time the sun dipped low, she could see the sea on the horizon, shimmering in the evening sunlight, and she was in a good mood. When one of the kings pointed out to her that their camp was only a little way away, she had challenged both of them to a race and sped off, urging Andrew forward.

With the element of surprise, they sprang forward, Andrew galloping hard. After recovering from their initial shock, both Peter and Edmund spurred their own mounts forward. At that speed, her hair streamed out behind her like a banner and the wind made her eyes water. At that very moment, she felt carefree and lighthearted, unlike she had ever felt before. Philip was gaining on them; his head was parallel to Andrew's hind legs, as was Peter's unicorn, to her left. All three of them hurtled into the camp at high speed and came to a halt in front of the largest tent. As they dismounted, she noticed that the horses' nostrils showed red. Sabra let out a loud laugh of exhilaration that echoed around the camp.

That night she was introduced to both Susan and Lucy. They looked slightly different to the girls who had played them in the movies but she could tell whom they were when they had disembarked at Glasswater. There was also an extremely beautiful woman with them, and she introduced herself as Alice. Out of the corner of her eye, Sabra could see Edmund practically staring at the lady. When they returned to camp, a large bonfire was lit and they sat at the entrance of the large tent listening to stories and songs by the men. Presently, naiads, dryads, and fauns came out of the forests and began to dance around the fire to the haunting music of the fauns' pipes. The queens and Edmund were whisked away to dance almost immediately, but Peter stood, paused and extended his hand out to her.

"Would you honor me with this dance, Lady?" he inquired.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. No way. I cannot fall in love with a recognizable character or vice versa, she told herself. Look away, Sabra, away from those hypnotic eyes. Look away! Just say no!

"Lady Sabra?"

No, no, no, no, no. NO!

"Of course," she replied with a smile, taking his hand and they danced.

GODAMMIT, Sabra!