It was a gloomy day in Anvard. Rain fell all morning and trickled into a mist just in time for the chaperoned meeting you were stuck in with a potential suitor. It wasn't a good sign to see your chaperone nodding off.

It was years since you and Caspian last saw each other. Miraz purposely shunned Anvard and your family, never letting you and Caspian see each other once both parties felt your punishment was over. Miraz felt that cutting ties with Anvard was the best choice. Your father was livid at the news and your mother was sympathetic to you and Caspian. Thankfully, cutting relations didn't mean your letters stopped.

The prince in front of you was not Caspian – the man's name forgotten – and he droned on about his many riches and accomplishments. He was handsome with sharp features and well cared for ginger hair. His eyes were an unusual shade of green, almost grey in the rainy weather. But there was so much more to a man than his looks. You saw no heart and soul in the prince. If you were to marry someday, your husband would not be like the prince before you.

You tried to listen to him speak, but there was no life in your eyes. No, that didn't appear until one of your handmaidens came in with a letter addressed to you. Your entire demeanor changed as you snatched it from her hand, thanking her profusely for the delivery. Your guest didn't matter anymore.

The prince stared at your name written on the parchment in perfect script as you tore through the wax seal. It was the first time since he arrived that something sparked in your eyes. He frowned.

You scanned the pages of Caspian's writing. He told you another Narnian story he heard from Cornelius – a habit he started in his early letters. He told you of his aunt's pregnancy and how Cornelius was worried for his safety. Although Miraz didn't blatantly announce it, there was no hiding his displeasure in Caspian's presence. If his wife had a son, Caspian would be in grave danger. It was enough to make your hands shake each time you thought about it.

Caspian changed the subject and asked about the princes you had to meet. He teased you lightly, making you smile. It made the useless meetings a little more entertaining wondering how your friend would respond. You missed Caspian so much.

"Who's that from?"

You looked at the prince. His name might have been Timothy or something similar. "My dear friend, Caspian."

His eyes widened. "Prince Caspian X?" He couldn't compete with a prince like him.

"The very same."

He looked nervous. "Oh. Is he to meet with you soon?"

You laughed. "Caspian? You must be joking."

"He's a prince."

"Yes, but he is my friend and no more."

"So, there is still a chance for us?"

You frowned. "I'm sorry, but I must decline. I met with you to please my father. I have no intention to marry any prince any time soon. I'm sorry this has been a waste of your time, Prince…"

"Theseus."

"Right. I wish you safe travels on your journey home. We are happy you had the opportunity to visit Anvard and we hope you'll visit again in the future. It truly was a pleasure to meet you."

You didn't give Theseus a chance to say anything more because you scampered to your quarters to stash your letter. Theseus was far out of your mind as you wrote your response to Caspian, that is until you mentioned the meeting to your friend. You signed your name following "with much love," and had it sent right off.

Dinner with your parents was the same as it always was after another dismissed suitor. Your father was stretched thin on the situation, his hair turning whiter with each talk.

"What do we have to do to help you pick a suitor?"

"I don't want one, Papa."

"You must find someone, Y/N. Your father can't be king forever." Your mother touched your hand. "We're getting older."

"I know… I'm just not ready…"

"What are you waiting for, Y/N?" Your father sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Would you be so quick to turn Caspian away?"

"What?"

"Honey," your mother warned, staring at the king.

"If Caspian were to walk through our gates asking to court you, would you deny him?"

"I don't want to marry. Of course, I'd tell him no. Caspian is my friend."

The conversation ended after the king sighed again and left the table. You went to bed upset. Too many thoughts swirled in your head when you laid down that night. It was your dreams where you found solace for a little while.

Caspian. A white horn. Miraz. Four siblings. A lion. All these things flooded your sleeping mind. Urgency, a badger, and a roar that overpowered everything else. You woke up in a cold sweat.

You leaped out of bed and gathered things you would need for a weeklong trip. Whatever that dream was about, you were meant to go and find the answers. Something was pulling you away from Anvard and you needed to follow. Aslan needed you to follow.

Your parents woke up to find your room empty and a short note explaining Aslan's need for you. Your father's patience was gone. No matter how hard your mother tried to calm him, he wouldn't let you get away with dismissing your duties as a princess. He sent soldiers after you. Your mother sighed and prayed you would remain safe.

Watching your back became a habit during your journey north. At any point, your father's soldiers could find you and take you back home. But it didn't happen. You weren't sure if your parents were letting you go or if Aslan was protecting you. Either way, you were relieved. If only you'd known how close your father's troops were during your travels.

You weren't sure where you were going. You knew you needed to get to the Telmarine castle – at least near it. It's what your gut told you. You rode hard. You slept on your horse, trusting Aslan to guide him, and took short rests more for your companion than for yourself. Two days later, you came into a clearing after sunset. It was identical to the one that flashed in your dreams. That was where you were supposed to be and you knew deep down that the horn you heard before sounded in that very spot.

Climbing down from your horse, you studied the area. Tracks belonging to several horses were scattered around the clearing with a few human tracks mingled in. Dirt and grass were stirred up and something dark and sticky coated a few leaves on the ground. Something happened there.

You picked out something similar to a door tucked between the roots of a large tree. If someone lived there, they might have heard something.

Feeling foolish, you tapped your knuckles against it in case it actually was a door. You stumbled back when a grumpy looking dwarf opened it. A Narnian.

"What do you want?" he said gruffly.

You wanted to say something about Narnians existing or ask about what happened in the clearing. Instead, your lips parted and you said, "Aslan sent me." They weren't your words despite having said them. You touched your throat with your fingertips just as a badger came to the door standing on his back legs. It was the same badger from your dreams.

"Aslan sent you?" The badger's voice was gentle.

You nodded. "I had a dream. I saw Aslan and this place… you. I'm supposed to be here to help my friend.

The badger smiled at you. "Well, if Aslan sent you, then you are welcome here. Come in."

The dwarf groaned. "We're not an inn!"

"Aslan brought her here, so she will be welcomed. There's a reason a Son of Adam is here, too, Nikabrik." The badger waved you inside. "So, who might you be, dear?"

"Y/N."

"Princess Y/N of Anvard?"

You nodded.

"What does Aslan want with you?" Nikabrik asked. The badger looked at his friend with disappointment.

"I'm not sure. All I know is I had to come here." You studied the small house, catching sight of a room where someone was lying on the bed. "What should I call you, Badger?"

"Trufflehunter. And that's Nikabrik. Do you like soup?"

"Very much. Thank you. Can I help at all?"

"No, no. I'll be just fine. It's late. Why don't you rest? If you came from Anvard, your journey was long. There's another bed in that room there. I'll get you when the soup is ready."

"Thank you, Trufflehunter."

You fell asleep faster than you expected although it didn't last long because loud voices woke you up. You poked your head out of the room, rubbing your eyes before you looked. Your heart stopped.

The words spoken between Trufflehunter, Nikabrik, and the human went flat on your ears. Your eyes were trained on the dark head of the person who was no stranger to you.

You didn't realize you were reaching out until your fingers clasped around the fabric of his shirt. He flipped around and his eyes widened.

"This is a dream," Caspian said as he stared at you. "Narnians and Y/N… This isn't real."

Without your permission, tears ran down your cheeks. Caspian grew up so much and you didn't get to experience any of it. He grew into his lanky limbs and his hair was longer than you'd ever seen it. It suited him. His eyes were the same – black in the low light but full of genuine emotion. You hoped his smile was the same, too.

"I'm real. I promise."

He studied you, his eyes lighting up more with each second. You watched when he realized you were standing right in front of him, that it wasn't his imagination. He swallowed you up in a hug.

You cried into his chest and held him close. It had been so long. Already your life seemed a hundred times brighter.

"How?" Caspian held you at arm's length to see you better. He even wiped away your tears.

"I had a dream about you, and I think images of the future. I was told to come here, so I did."

"What about your family?"

"I left a letter. If they've been looking for me, I wouldn't know. I had to find you."

"I hate to interrupt," Trufflehunter said, "but if you both want hot soup, you should grab your bowl." He set a bowl on the table. "Eat up."

While you ate, Caspian told you about his baby nephew and the attempt on his life that same night mere hours before you arrived. You listened to every detail and committed his face to memory. You couldn't fathom how much older he looked from the awkward boy you remembered him as.

Caspian listened to you rant about the princes your father sent for and how none of them held your attention. They were all looks – well most of them – and no real personality. You mentioned how guilty you felt rejecting so many, but none of them were right for your heart.

"You'll find your prince one day," Trufflhunter said with a sturdy nod. "He'll be sent to you when it's right."

"There's no rush." You shrugged and smiled at the badger. "I'm not ready to be a queen let alone courting a prince. I'm still young."

Caspian's eyes were on you although you didn't see. You'd grown more beautiful while you were apart, and he honestly couldn't focus on anything else. He'd never shown interest in the ways of courting. Sure, he flirted sometimes, but it never meant anything. But seeing you again looking well and happier than the last time he saw you… he was in awe. He couldn't deny that it hurt a little hearing you say you weren't interested in courting. Would you change your mind? He didn't need to think like that since Miraz was after him. But he couldn't stop himself with you right next to him.

"Thank you for the soup, Trufflehunter," you said as you gathered up bowls for him. "Since I didn't help with dinner, can I help with the dishes?"

"Please, Princess, don't mar those hands with soapy water. I appreciate the offer."

You stared at your calloused hands. "I think wielding a sword has done that well enough."

Caspian smiled. "You still learned?"

"I think I did to spite my parents. Then I did it to hurt your uncle for severing ties with Anvard. Training wasn't nearly as fun as it was with you."

That warmed his heart. "I never had the chance to learn from you."

"I'll remedy that when we get the chance."

He nodded. "First, we need to find more Narnians."

You tilted your head. "Why?"

"So we can give back the homes my people stole."

Nikabrik snorted. "Good luck with that, Prince."

You took Caspian's hand and squeezed. "I have faith in you."

"That's all I need."

For some reason, your heart stuttered.