Disclaimer: I am merely borrowing C. S. Lewis' charming characters and world, and will eventually return them. The only thing that is mine is the plot.

Disclaimer 2: If this story in any way resembles any other fanfiction it is by complete accident, as I go out of my way to avoid fanfictions that resemble mine until mine are completed. My apologies to any other great minds.

Author's note: This story is set pre-, during- and post- The Last Battle. I am a first time fanfiction writer and any reviews are appreciated.

Chapter 2: Cold Worry

Peter returned almost every day to that bakery for the new fruit breads, but the bantering conversations he had with Leona were a treat as refreshing and delightful as the pastries.

He was not going to the bakery to see her though, most definitely not. He made certain to go to the bakery at least once a week when she was not working just to prove it! Anthony didn't seem to believe him however, and took great delight in asking every time he encountered Peter how Leona was doing and whether they had decided to court, yet. It was getting quite irritating.

Leona didn't seem to believe him either, but she was much less heavy-handed about it. She never said anything, but her face would light up every time she saw Peter enter, and every day she would have a new topic to discuss with him. He found that he and Leona had very similar tastes in many things, morals most importantly. They would have long talks about the state of the city, country, and even the world, and would debate the various reasons for the decay they could see around them. They both loved the same kinds of books and could spend hours going over the differences in various myths and legends. Peter especially enjoyed the challenge in their discussions about "mythical" creatures, such as centaurs and dragons. Even though he had practical experience with almost any odd creature they brought up, he had to state his opinions in such a way that he would sound as though he'd read it somewhere.

It did feel very good to be able to almost fall back into the mannerisms he used in Narnia. He could relax and play a game of courtly manners with Leona and know that she would not think him strange or old fashioned. He didn't have to worry about slipping a "My Lady" or some other older phrase on occasion, in their conversations as she would not mind, or even notice. She had an archaic feel to her, almost Narnian, but not quite. Peter couldn't tell and it frustrated him. At first he had thought, hoped really, that she had been to Narnia or someplace similar, but he had never summoned up the nerve to bring up the idea of other worlds. Then at other times she would act so incredibly modern that he would give it up as wishful thinking. Either way it didn't matter to Peter, or so he would tell himself.

He wasn't unwilling to consider the possibility of something flowering between himself and Leona, but he didn't like to rush things of the romantic sort. He hadn't really thought about the likelihood of a true romance waiting for him in England. He had always felt that this world simply didn't have a woman who would be able to truly understand him. It was a rather lonely belief since he hadn't ever expected to marry even in Narnia. He had been wed to his country, heart and soul. It wouldn't have been fair to ask a woman to play second fiddle.

He had always known what parts of Narnia the other three rulers embodied. Susan was Narnia's beauty, from the rolling meadows to Cair Paravel itself. Edmund was her honor and justice, unyielding to evil and merciful in the face of repentance. Lucy was her heart, cheerful and a little bit wild and untamed. He hadn't known what his part was until he had revealed his musings to Edmund in a wine-inspired bout of introspection.

Edmund had replied that Peter was Narnia's soul. He brought every aspect of the country, good and bad, together. His passionate devotion to Narnia and what she stood for was unchanging and fierce. He was her protector and he guarded her with the caring of a lover. What woman would be willing to compete with that?

When the four of them had returned to Narnia to aid Prince Caspian, it had driven Peter mad to see how much his country had been changed. The things he loved had been abandoned, destroyed or driven into hiding. He had to fight a wild urge to start re-arranging rocks and bushes in an attempt to get things back to the way he remembered them. It hadn't been until nearly the end that he had realized what he truly loved about Narnia wasn't gone, he simply hadn't been looking in the right place. Aslan always had things well in hand, even if Peter couldn't see it. It had been that solid reassurance that let him give up his crown to Caspian and step back into England. He missed his true home with a longing that sometimes took his breath away, but now he could visit the little bakery on the corner and in Leona, bring a little of home to London.

Peter was sitting in class about a month after Anthony had first introduced him to Leona, when a campus messenger came into the classroom with a note for the professor. The professor took the message, read it, and cleared his throat.

"If I might have your attention again, please! We have received a note from the chief of police. It's believed by the authorities that there could be a violent criminal wanted for a series of attacks entering this area. Gerard Conroy is considered to be highly mentally unstable and very dangerous to anyone who crosses his path, but women are especially warned. We ask that students please keep an eye out for anyone acting suspiciously, but there must be absolutely NO heroics. Any suspicions are to be brought immediately to the attention of a professor or one of the constables that shall be attempting to keep an eye on the neighborhood. Thank you very much, you are dismissed."

Peter's mind was buzzing, and he felt the tension that had been part of him as High King start pulsing through his veins. He had every intention of letting the police handle any danger in the area, but without a second thought he was making plans on how to handle any situation that could arise. First thing was to make sure that Leona knew about the danger.

Grateful that the last class of the day was over, he quickly hurried off in the direction of the bakery. Worry started to build as he noticed that night was coming on swiftly, and the chill October wind was picking up. He pulled his coat a little tighter around him and hurried onward. Leona closed the shop alone most nights and would then walk home, or so she told him. He rarely came to the bakery in the evenings, preferring to stop by in the early afternoon, when he had several hours in between classes.

He saw a newspaper blow past him as he turned the corner on to Shopkeep Lane, and looked ahead to see if the bakery was still open.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief as he saw lights still shining in the windows of Marker's Bakery. He opened the door and went inside, the little bell ringing to announce his arrival. The bakery looked different with so few wares in sight. Leona must have been still taking things down and closing up for the night.

"Leona! Are you here?" Peter called, as Leona was nowhere in sight. Stirrings and footsteps came from the back room behind the counter.

"Peter? What are you doing here?" Leona popped through the doorway. "You already stopped by this afternoon. Is everything all right?"

"No, everything is not alright," Peter replied, pulling off his gloves and holding his cold hands over the gas heater by the front window. "The university received word that a criminal might be loose in this area. I was worried about you and came to make sure you were alright." All of a sudden Peter felt a little silly. It didn't seem likely that Leona would be attacked in broad daylight while at work.

"Oh, dear! That isn't very good news," Leona said. Then in a quieter, almost shy tone, "You were worried about me?"

Peter looked up from his hands. "Of course I was worried about you, with a madman on the loose! I get shivers down my spine at the very idea that someone could sneak up behind you and do all manner of horrible things to you, and I wouldn't be in a position to stop it." He looked out the window again at the swiftly darkening night, and felt another shiver work its way through his body. It almost felt as though the night had eyes - sinister eyes that slid back into darkness as soon as he tried to look into the shadows. An enemy that may or may not be lurking in the dark was something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He turned to Leona, who was gathering up the leftover breads and rolls to take to the back. "You will let me walk you home." It was more of a statement than a question.

"I can take care of myself, you know," Leona replied, bristling. "I'm not completely useless." She passed by Peter to gather the last of the wares on the table next to him.

Peter grabbed her wrist as she passed. "Please, Leona. I'll sleep better tonight if I know you are home safe. I know that you're hardly a wilting maiden, but I would rather you had the benefit of a strong man at your side to deter any evildoers." He let go of her wrist. "I just have a terrible feeling tonight."

Leona's face softened from the scowl it had worn in response to Peter's high-handed command, into something much more sympathetic. "If it makes you feel better, then you may walk me home." She turned and finished picking up the last of the bread and walked to the back. Suddenly she turned and smiled impishly at Peter. "And I'll admit that it will be nice to have someone carry my things for me."

Peter laughed in spite of himself and the situation. That was one of the things he liked most about Leona: no matter what happened she took it in stride.