A/N: Thank you to all the reviewers who have stuck with me and let me know what they think of the story. You all make me want to keep updating everyday until I finish. Enjoy…

Part Seventeen:

Aslan's mighty roar shook the very ground she stood on and Lucy held her palms even tighter to her ears.

At first, nothing appeared to have happened. But then there was movement from a nearby bush. For a moment, it looked as though the bush was suddenly dropping its leaves as if it was winter.

Until they coalesced into a form resembling the shape of young man, only a head taller than Lucy. A hollow, but at the same time melodious, voice came from the spirit.

"It cannot be, my leaves must deceive me," the tree spirit whispered. "For I think I am looking upon Aslan, King of Kings. And that cannot be, for he has not been seen in Narnia for many centuries."

The mighty lion chuckled. "You are not wrong, young spirit. I am really here. And Narnia could use the help of your larger brethren."

Filled with excitement, the tree spirit momentarily abandoned his shape and flitted around Aslan and Lucy as if carried on a crazy breeze.

When he reformed in front of them, he said enthusiastically, "I can lead you to Orme, he'd be the one you need!"

Aslan halted the exuberant spirit with a low chuckle and a gentle shake of his head. "Please, young spirit, your own name, if you would."

As the spirit undulated, Lucy could almost picture a young man smacking his forehead. "Aye, I've slept so long I've forgotten my manners," he said. "I am Cassis. At your service, my Lord."

The lion bowed his head. "A pleasure, Cassis. This is Queen Lucy."

Without warning, the young Cassis swarmed in excitement again. "The Queen Lucy? Queen Lucy the Valiant? From the Golden Age of Narnia? Are you really?"

Lucy laughed. "Yes, Cassis. But we have no time to waste. My brothers and sister, and the Narnians, need aid immediately. Can you take us to Sir Orme?"

Cassis, who couldn't exactly nod, instead took off into the nearby wood. Aslan bid Lucy to climb atop his back and then swiftly traversed the ground in pursuit of the quick-moving spirit.

Moving at such a fast pace, Lucy wasn't able to converse with Aslan, so instead her thoughts turned inward to the guilt she was still feeling.

Though she had been right, and they had needed Aslan to defeat the Telmarines, she still couldn't shake the guilt for hurting her older brother. Not physically, since they had talked about that, but mentally, she knew he could deny it all he wanted, but her words had badly hurt Peter.

Yes, they had talked and he had absolved her of any blame, but her heart hadn't. She didn't think she would ever forget her brother, suddenly thrust back into a world of immobility, feeling he had deserved it because of something she had said to him.

The shock of hearing Peter say he had no feeling in his legs had taken a while to wear off. Now that it had, the guilt was nearly more than Lucy could bear.

She had spoken with Trumpkin. She had even spoken with Peter and begged his forgiveness. And he had given it. But her heart was still heavy.

Now, watching Edmund struggle to bear their brother's weight, and watching Peter's mask of worry, pain and frustration, she couldn't stop the tears from leaking from her eyes.

Oh Peter, I know you don't blame me. But I blame me. I'm supposed to be the faithful one, and yet I lost faith in my own brother. What kind of sister am I?

From her hidden vantage point, Lucy could just hear her brothers' conversation as Edmund set Peter down beside a small fire.

"Thanks, Ed," the elder Pevensie said with a weary sigh. "I'm sorry you have to lug your sorry excuse for an older brother around."

Edmund wasted no time in smacking Peter's shoulder. "Shut it, Peter, you aren't a sorry excuse by any means. You just need to have faith that this is temporary. Besides, it can only help me bulk up a little, you know, carrying all that weight." He barely managed to dodge Peter's light punch, laughing at the High King's expression.

He sobered at the look that next crossed Peter's face. "What is it?" Ed prompted. "We're alone. You can talk to me, Peter. You need to talk to someone, you haven't been yourself since you returned. I know you and Lu reconciled, so what is it?"

Peter frowned and shook his head. "I just can't help but feel this is perhaps fitting," he said, gesturing mildly to his legs. "That I deserve a little suffering for leading so many to their deaths. I know we've been over it, and it wasn't my fault, so on and so forth. But Edmund, I made the plan, I executed it, I led the attack, I kept going when I should have stopped. My mistakes were numerous."

He looked down and fingered his trouser leg. "If this is all I have to bear in repayment for my failure, I should be so lucky."

Edmund patted him on the shoulder. "This is more than you should have to bear, since you didn't fail anyone. Stop berating yourself Peter. Right. Now."

Lucy pulled her head back around the small ledge she was hiding behind and leaned it against the cold stone. Her brother felt he deserved this paralysis because he had failed.

Her words came back to haunt her. She had told him it would be on his shoulders should the raid fail. And even though he said she wasn't to blame for his injury, she couldn't help but feel that she was to blame for this. While Peter had a penchant for blaming himself for every little thing that happened, this seemed to go beyond even his normal.

I wish Aslan were here. He'd know what to do. Should I talk to him again? Or should I wait until he is healed?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the voice of her oldest brother. "Lucy! Hey, Lucy! Can you hear me!?" She gathered herself and resolutely walked around the corner.

"Yes, Peter?"

He smiled at her. "We're about to eat, Ed and I were hoping you and Su could join us. We haven't had much time to ourselves lately..."

She forced a grin onto her face. "I would like that very much, Peter."

Lucy was rather abruptly drawn from her thoughts when Aslan stopped in a small clearing. Cassis had reformed in front of them and was addressing a very large, very still elm tree.

"Elder Olme," he said reverently. "I know you likely have just woken, but the King of Kings, Aslan himself, seeks aid from your warriors. As does Queen Lucy the Valiant of Narnia's Golden Age."

The great elm tree, knarled with age, suddenly twisted until a face of sorts, really just an uncanny face-like knarl to Lucy, turned toward Aslan.

"Aslan, my liege. Long has it been since we have bothered with the world outside ourselves. What has befallen Narnia in our absence? Why have you need of my warriors, my King?"

Aslan briefly spoke to the elder elm and Lucy stood to the side, eyes drifting up, and up, and up to the very top of the old tree. He must be very old, she thought to herself.

"Olme has been around for many hundreds of years."

Lucy jerked and spun around. A tall willow tree, with long, swaying branches of green leaves, shook with laughter at the young Queen's wide eyes.

"Can you read my mind?" Lucy blurted, then blushed at the absurdity of her question.

The willow tree shook in what Lucy thought was a negative answer. The elderly female voice sounded again, amusement in her tone. "No, small Queen. But I have seen your expression on many a face over the years and can read it well."

Lucy laughed and nodded. "I've been told I'm as easy to read as a children's book sometimes," she said, glancing to where Aslan and Olme were still speaking. "Are you a warrior too, Madame Willow tree?" She hoped she was properly addressing the ancient being, because it wouldn't do for a Queen of Narnia to insult a subject.

"Aye, I was, but I have seen a few too many winters to be of much help now," the willow said. "My name is Saule. It is a pleasure to meet you, Queen Lucy. The trees have many stories of you and your royal siblings."

Lucy wished there wasn't a battle being waged and she could sit and speak with the old willow more, but she could feel Aslan's approach.

"Dear one, Olme will gather his warriors and with all speed, move to the aid of your brothers and sister," the great lion said, nodding toward Saule. "We must press on, for there is another great spirit we must call upon for aid."

Lucy frowned. "Another, Aslan? Who?"

The great lion chuckled. "You will see," he said. "Hurry now, we must move fast. We have little time and far to go."

Lucy bid farewell to old Saule, who had moved from her long-time spot in the clearing and was speaking to the old elm in low tones.

Both great trees wished the lion and queen luck and speed in their journey, then crashed off toward Aslan's How.

Lucy climbed on Aslan's broad back and they took off toward the Ford of Beruna.

Narnians crashed through the woods behind the retreating Telmarines, every so often dodging an awakening tree or bush that was flitting about angrily at the strange humans who had no regard for what they were trampling.

Being the tallest of the Narnian leaders, Caspian soon found that he had gotten rather far ahead of the three Pevensies. While no where near as fast as the centaurs, he was still within range of the slower Telmarines and every so often had to defend himself from an attacker.

Crashing through a particularly dense bit of foliage, the Telmarine soldier that Caspian was nearly upon suddenly slammed to the ground and started swatting at a swarm of leaves.

The young prince skidded to a halt a few feet away and gaped as the pile of leaves battered the man, flitting wildly against the soldier.

"Take that, you inconsiderate creature."

Caspian's jaw dropped as the leaves spoke. The voice did not come from a nearby tree or other form of wood. No, it came from within the swarm of small green leaves.

The Telmarine, petrified, screamed and scrambled to his feet, swinging from left to right, up and down, trying to stop the frenzied foliage.

Nothing he did seemed to hinder the Narnian, though a few slashes nicked a nearby bush and Caspian could hear grunts of pain from the swarm.

Realizing that each time the bushes bare branches were hit, the spirit shuddered and the swarming slowed, Caspian raised his sword and, while the Telmarine was distracted, easily defeated the man.

The leaves stopped spinning around wildly and drew tighter and tighter together until Caspian could perceive the shape of a woman in them.

"Thank you, good sir," the voice intoned with relief. "I am in your debt. How can I repay you your act of aid?"

Caspian sputtered for a moment, shaking his head. "No...No need, good spirit. I need no repayment for helping you."

Peter nearly barreled into the halted prince, breath coming in great heaving gasps. "Are you all right? When you weren't moving, I thought the worst."

The High King looked toward the tree spirit and nodded lightly. "Oh, I did not see you were talking," he said, shifting his gaze back to Caspian, who's eyes were still wide and staring. Peter suddenly chuckled. "Hey, Caspian." He waved a hand in front of the young prince's face and that caught his attention. "You did say you were hard-pressed to picture a tree spirit and wished to some day meet one. Someone heard you." Caspian could only nod.

Edmund and Susan reached the two now and both nodded to the still formed spirit. With a fluttering of leaves, the spirit suddenly exclaimed, "Wait a minute. It cannot be…your royal highnesses? You bear the bow, and you bear the sword of the High King. Just like the stories tell!"

Peter smiled. "Yes, we are who you say," he said, lightly raising Rhindon. "And while I would dearly love to stay and chat, the men who crashed through here before us have to be stopped before they can regroup. Stay safe, good spirit."

He nudged Caspian and the young prince stumbled slightly before shaking his head and regaining himself.

"I am sorry, it was just a shock to see leaves attacking a man like a swarm of angry bees," Caspian said as they began running again.

All conversation stopped as the four panted and grunted with the effort of moving quickly through the thick forest.

They could hear the sound of a flowing river from not far ahead and the trees began to thin out. There were shouts and cries from riverside and as the Narnians finally burst out of the trees they were surprised to find the whole of the Telmarine force still on this side of the river.

Peter, Edmund and Susan couldn't contain their gasps of surprise when a lone figure appeared at the other end of the bridge -- her red dress flapping lightly in the breeze blowing off the clear blue water.

Queen Lucy the Valiant had a grim smile on her face as she cocked her head to the side and drew her small dagger with the lion hilt.

Peter's eyes widened as his baby sister stood her ground, separated from a desperate army by only a small span of hewn wood and water.

He was about to leap forward and force his way to her side, but something stopped him. A glint of golden hair emerging from the forest behind her.

"Aslan," the High King breathed, hand tightening on Rhindon at finally seeing the great lion in the flesh. "Dear Lucy, you are amazing," he said quietly, drawing a brief look from Edmund and Susan.

His heart leapt into his throat when Lord Sopespian suddenly shouted "charge" and dug his heels into his horse's flanks, rocketing onto the bridge toward Lucy and Aslan.

Peter jerked and clapped a hand to his ear as a tremendous and terrifying roar shattered the air around them.

Telmarines and Narnians alike clamped hands to their heads and winced at the unbelievable power of the lion's call.

Everyone -- human, centaur, faun, great cats, even the trees who had turned the tide of the battle -- watched, some in fascination, others in fear, as the waters of the river surged and eddied in response to the roar.

Peter jerked his head to the side, upriver, and even the High King of Narnia, who had seen all sorts of magical beings, could only gape at the approaching spirit.

He tore his eyes from the incoming being and for a brief moment, met his youngest sister's. She smiled lightly at him, and then they both watched the water spirit tower over the small bridge.

The High King had no doubt the spirit would deal with the murdering Telmarine lord -- somehow -- but he was still shaking with trepidation.

Would the Telmarines halt their hostilities? Or would they cross the bridge to where Lucy stood alone with Aslan?

Peter had great faith in the great lion, but even he could only defeat so many foes. He would never forgive himself if Lucy fell here today, completing a mission he had sent her on.

His gaze was ripped back to the bridge as the great spirit suddenly smashed the bridge in his grasp and sent the pieces plummeting into the depths as he disappeared back into the waves with it.

The hour of decision was here. Was the battle over? Or was it to begin anew with a new leader?

As the great lion and the young Queen hurried through the forest toward the Ford of Beruna, Aslan told Lucy of his plan to seek aid from an ancient Narnian named Condatis.

Condatis, the water spirit who dwelled in the river at Beruna, was old and wise, and Aslan had met him many times before.

"The river holds great power," Aslan said as he ran, Lucy clutching the lion's mane tightly in both hands and leaning on his neck. "But unless the Telmarine ruler is upon the bridge, Condatis will be able to do little."

He couldn't look at Lucy, but he softened his voice to convey his concern for her. "This is where you will need to be very brave, dear one. Narnia will need you to draw the army across the bridge."

Lucy's breath caught in her chest. "Me? But I'm not a warrior. I can't do what Peter and Edmund and Susan can do, Aslan."

She leaned her forehead against his golden head, breathing slowly to calm herself.

"You are very brave, Valiant One. I know you can do this. Turn some of your boundless faith in me into faith in yourself, Lucy."

The young girl lifted her head and frowned. Faith in herself? Well, Peter obviously had found faith in her -- he had banked all their lives on her finding Aslan. Surely if such a magnificent ruler could believe in her, she could?

At the thought of Peter, Lucy sighed dejectedly.

Aslan must have picked up on it. "What troubles you, dear one? You mustn't have such weight on your mind, it is not healthy."

Lucy let out a shaky breath. "Oh, Aslan, I was so horrible to Peter." She explained to the great lion what had transpired between her and her older brother, poured out all of her thoughts of blame and how it had been partially relieved -- but not fully.

"I still can't help but feel in my heart that it is my fault Peter felt his injury was justified," she said as they ran. "He was so broken, Aslan. Peter is always so strong and yet, my words tore him down. He forgave me and told me nothing that happened to him was my fault, but how do I forgive myself for making him think he deserved what happened to him? How do I forgive myself, Aslan? It hurts to feel this way."

Her nine-year-old self had trouble putting her feelings into words, but Aslan seemed to have no trouble understanding her troubled heart.

"Dear one," he said, his voice full of love. "Many people say things they do not mean in the heat of a moment. You are no different. If you wish to make things right in your heart, then make things right with your brother.

He paused as he leapt over a fallen log.

"Talk to Peter. If your words were enough to hurt him so, then your words should be enough to heal him. And yourself."

Lucy pondered his wisdom as they continued their trek. It sounded like he was telling her to have that conversation she had been flip-flopping about. And so, as soon as she could tie her brother down -- she would do it.

Heart already lighter at the prospect of helping Peter get past thinking his paralysis had been a punishment, Lucy smiled and hugged her companion.

"Thanks, Aslan. I'll talk to him."

Water spirits were fickle beings, content to mind their own business the majority of the time, since little aside from polluting their waterways really bothered them.

Condatis was very bothered by the noise, litter and the sinking of supports into his riverbed. The bridge at Beruna was literally a thorn in his side.

"It shall be my pleasure to aid you, my King," the water spirit said, only his head appearing above the surface of the river, putting him somewhat close to Aslan and Lucy's level. "How will I know when to come?"

The great lion chuckled deeply. "When I call out, old Condatis. Queen Lucy will draw the Telmarines into your river and onto their bridge for you. You will be helping us wash away a hurt that has plagued Narnia for many, many years and we are thankful for your help."

Lucy walked beside Aslan toward the bridge, in view already. There was no sign of the Telmarines, but Lucy had a feeling they were close.

"I'm not sure I can do this, Aslan," she suddenly said, stopping beside the river and staring out across it -- wishing one of her braver brothers could do it. They wouldn't be frightened.

The great lion drew to a halt next to her.

"The prophecy your brother and Prince Caspian found states that one of the four shall embody faith," he said. "That, dear one, is you. Don't lose that faith now."

Gulping the lump in her throat, she looked toward the far shore and her eyes widened as the first of the Telmarine soldiers burst out of the forest.

"We must go," Aslan prompted.

Lucy followed quickly, stumbling a little on the rocky shoreline. Soon, they were at the end of the bridge and Lucy glanced to Aslan before squaring her shoulders, raising her chin and stepping onto the first wooden slat.

The Telmarine army was swelling around the bridge and she could see riders approach the other end. Breathing through her fear, she stepped further out on the bridge and watched as the riders slowed and stared at her incredulously.

Reaching to her side, she pulled her dagger from its sheath and smiled, feeling Aslan near her and feeling her fear lessen.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Peter, Edmund, Susan and Caspian, staring at her. She almost dropped her dagger in astonishment.

Peter was standing. On his own legs. Her oldest brother, who had not been able to feel, much less move his legs when last she saw him, looked ready to bolt toward her, and her heart swelled at the love she felt for him. A small smile spread across her face. He was standing! She wanted to jump for joy and rush to him, she was so overwhelmed with happiness.

If she could see him closer, she would have noticed that he was only still standing because he was so full of battle lust and adrenaline that his body had not realized it had been taxed too far. Otherwise, he most definitely would not have been standing. Even though he appeared to have recovered, she knew that there would still be an emotional wound to heal. She would make things right. Later.

She was jolted to attention when the leader of the Telmarine army shouted a command to move across the bridge and took the lead himself to do it.

A roar from Aslan almost made her jump, but she had been expecting it. She did cringe though, as it was right beside her and left her ears ringing. She waited with baited breath as the water began to stream with more and more force and then, Condatis came barreling around a bend, growing taller and taller as he drew his massive form out of the river, sucking much of the depth from the surrounding area.

She looked to Peter as the water spirit towered over the small bridge. Lucy could see the worry in his pose, so she smiled lightly to try and reassure him before turning back to watch Condatis crash into the bridge, destroying it and the Telmarine leader in one fell swoop of water.

She waited with baited breath to see what the Telmarines would do now. Would they surrender, or continue across the bridge and continue to fight?

A/N: Hmmm. A few more chapters I think…stay with me!