A/N: Bear with me please, I'm highly disturbed by a review this story received and have to say something about it. Phoenixqueen and I put countless hours and a lot of effort into bringing you this story and while we don't mind constructive criticism and everyone has a right to not like the story, we do mind when someone says we need to do more research and put more effort into the story or we're insulting our readers. While it doesn't appear this person read past chapter one, the comment was very disheartening and did more harm than good. Reviews are supposed to help the writers, not make them wonder why they bothered to put so much time and energy into a story. If staying up until sometimes 2 a.m. when we have to get up very early in the morning isn't putting "effort" into a story, than I suppose I don't know the meaning of the word. As a professional journalist, I've had my share of readers who did not agree with my stories and let me know about it. And on since 2004, I have from time to time gotten negative reviews. But this one, by far, was the single most disturbing response I have ever gotten and actually had me close to wrapping this up and moving on to another fandom. So please, if you feel the need to write a review, remember that some people do not have the time to research history for a small piece of a 90,000+ word story; do not write in the canon universe (which we stated we were NOT doing…) and everybody does this for fun.

Part Twenty:

Seated around a fire pit, with tents set up around them, Edmund felt almost like he was back at Beruna eating toast as fast as his face could accept it and he instinctively turned to find Peter. But his brother was still speaking with Aslan. So he sighed and returned his attention to the food before him.

It was the tenth time he'd sighed and Lucy shook her head. She knew her brother was anxious to keep Peter not just in his sight, but within arms' reach after what he had gone through.

Over her brother's shoulder, she saw Caspian speaking with a Telmarine soldier and noticed something that might take care of her brother's melancholy – the man had two sheaths, though the swords had been confiscated with all the rest of the Telmarine army's weapons.

Rising, she turned to Susan and Edmund. "I'll be right back. I'm going to drag Caspian over here and make him eat something," she said. "You boys all seem to be allergic to eating, or something." She shook her head at the tongue Edmund stuck out at her and hurried over to Caspian and the other man.

"Oh, Caspian," she said in a sing-song voice. "Did someone forget he's human and needs to eat?" She grasped his arm and tugged lightly. "Bring your friend. I'm sure he could use a bite to eat, as well."

The man in question raised his eyebrows toward Caspian, silently asking if the young girl seriously wished him to join her and her siblings. The young prince shrugged and let Lucy pull him toward the royal tent, Glozelle in tow.

Edmund looked up as they reached the fireside and his eyes honed in on the Telmarine accompanying Caspian. He remembered the man from the duel and how he had been opposed to cheating.

"You're General Glozelle, right?" he asked, nodding for the man to go ahead and take a seat, since he seemed to be waiting for an invitation. When the man nodded, Edmund continued. "I'd like to thank you."

Glozelle's head cocked to the side. "Thank me? Whatever for, Your Majesty?"

Edmund looked over at the man, eying the two empty sword sheaths he was still carrying around with him. "You were opposed to Miraz and Sopespian cheating during the duel. Since it was my brother you were kind of trying to aid, I wanted to thank you."

The man muttered, "Yes, well, it didn't work," under his breath and Edmund actually laughed. Glozelle looked at the young king like he'd grown another head. "What's so funny?"

Edmund laughed harder. "Sorry, sorry. I just had a flash of Peter. He loves to mutter under his breath all grouchy when something he does isn't successful." He paused. "I noticed you have two sheaths. Do you fight with two swords?"

Caspian groaned. "Oh, now you've done it," he said, smacking his hand into his forehead, half in mock exasperation – and half really exasperated. "You'll never get him to stop talking now, King Edmund."

"I have been known to let myself get a little carried away when I speak of two-blade sword-fighting," the man said ruefully. "It's my specialty and I trained many of the Telmarines who employ it, including Caspian here."

Edmund's smile was broad. "It's my preferred style, as well. Perhaps we can compare notes, if you would be willing. I learned from a centaur named General Oreius, and I'm sure there are things you know, that I don't, and vice versa."

With the invitation extended, it was only moments before the two men were sitting side-by-side regaling, arguing, explaining and sometimes even threatening to get up and show each other all manner of two-blade sword-fighting techniques.

Lucy smiled triumphantly at Susan, who shook her head and continued eating. Caspian groaned again. "Queen Lucy, I think, at the moment, I do not like you. I wouldn't be surprised if the two of them will gang up on me later and try to teach me whatever they are discussing."

She laughed so hard at the look on his face, they drew the stares of nearby soldiers. But it felt good to laugh, and the little Queen's cheer brought smiles to some of the solemn faces.

While Edmund and Glozelle continued to have an animated discussion, Lucy spied a golden flash approaching from the river. It was too far away still, but she knew it was either Peter's hair, or Aslan's gleaming coat. Though, more likely the latter, as there was much more of the lion's fur to catch the sun.

She wondered what it was that Peter had discussed with Aslan. And she hoped it didn't set him back after their own talk, she had just gotten him to stop blaming himself for the raid and she was relatively certain that the both of them would be all right now.

It's Aslan, of course he wouldn't let Peter fall back into that pit, Lucy thought to herself. He probably just had to talk to him about his healing. Yes, that's got to be it. If I was Peter, I'd have been interested in that too.

She saw soon that it was indeed her brother and the great lion approaching, and it didn't escape her attention that they were moving extremely slowly. So slow, in fact, that Aslan was hardly moving his legs and was still having to pause to wait for Peter. Peter's movement would better be called shuffling than walking.

With a frown, she ran her hand along her leather belt and drew out her small diamond cordial bottle, looking at the light reflecting off the bottle and the liquid within. Caspian saw her eying it, and commented, "Do you think King Peter will accept a drop, Your Majesty?"

Lucy sighed. "Probably not, but it is worth a try. Sometimes, when he was weary enough, he didn't have the strength to argue. I could argue all day about it."

Edmund and Glozelle's conversation came to an abrupt halt when the former noticed his brother's return. Peter looked up as he breached the small group, with Aslan at his back, and met his brother's eyes, nodding that he was fine, before moving his gaze to Glozelle.

The man found himself strangely entranced by those blue eyes and gulped back a lump that had formed in his throat. It didn't matter how much King Edmund enjoyed his company, if the High King wished to cast him away, it would be done.

Peter pursed his lips, then sighed. "Does this mean Ed's going to have more crazy, two-bladed tricks up his sleeve the next time we spar?"

Glozelle let out the breath he had been holding with a small smile. "I think he may garner a few more tricks, Your Majesty. But I believe I would learn more from him, then he would from me."

Peter shook his head. "I'm in for it now," he muttered as Edmund reached his side, eying his brother's stiff posture with an experienced eye. "Oh, Ed, don't get all clingy on me. I'm fine."

"I'll be the judge of that, Peter," Edmund grumped. But watching Peter's eyes shift toward Glozelle, he realized perhaps now wasn't the time to pull "brother rank" on Peter. It wouldn't due to undermine his authority in front of the Telmarines. "Oh, all right. Here, just let me help you sit."

Peter gladly accepted that form of aid and was soon munching quietly on toast and apples. He hadn't realized how hungry he had been until he'd taken that first bite of juicy fruit and nearly moaned with pleasure.

Aslan's deep chuckle sounded from beside him and he smiled wanly. "What? It's good!" The lion shook his head, and said nothing, but a small frown crossed his face when Peter grunted and his hand moved unconsciously toward his shoulder.

The lion wasn't the only one who saw the movement.

"Peter," Lucy said. "Why won't you let me give you some cordial? I hate to see you in pain when I can do something about it…" She was fingering the small bottle, but not quite meeting Peter's eyes.

Her brother might have said something, if he didn't have a mouth full of toast. As it was, he was shaking his head from side to side and trying to swallow so he could respond.

Aslan beat him to it. "Dear one, there are some things a person must recover from on their own. The cordial is best reserved for only those cases of dire need. If you gave a drop to every soldier who was wounded, you would have run out long ago."

Peter nodded, lightly patting Lucy's leg. "I'm really all right, Lu. Just an occasional pain here and there. I know you'd like to help, but I'd rather we not waste a drop of cordial. You and I both know how important it is."

Two sets of eyes immediately shot to Edmund, who was looking at them and caught their gazes. He blushed a little with the attention suddenly turned on him and set a small, embarrassed smile on his face.

"Well if everyone is done eating, we have a lot of things to work out," the dark-haired King suddenly said, cutting off the memories of Beruna before any of them could dwell on them.

"King Edmund is correct," Aslan said. "There is one thing that must be done before we breach the castle gates." He turned his attention to Caspian. "Because you accepted the gifts offered to you by the Four, you are worthy. And because you are worthy, you have brought, and will continue to bring, balance to Narnia. But in order to assure that, you must have authority."

The great lion paused, turning his gaze to Peter. "You are Narnia's High King, and as such, even the Telmarine kingdom rightfully falls under your purview," he continued. "But, you are Narnian and as such, the Telmarines may have trouble following your leadership."

Peter nodded. "I know," he said. "That's why I asked Caspian to call for the surrender. I didn't think the Telmarines would be comfortable with me." He looked at Glozelle, who nodded his agreement, still somewhat wary of the Kings and Queens of legend himself, even though he was sitting amongst them.

"I'm not ready," Caspian whispered, looking down at his calloused hands and wondering how he could ever make a good king. "I can fight. And I can call for a surrender. But how can I rule a kingdom?"

Edmund reached out and laid a hand on the young prince's shoulder. "We asked ourselves the same thing, Caspian. You'll figure it out. And you won't be alone. There will be advisors and you have us to bounce ideas off of."

None of them noticed Aslan's eyes dim when Edmund spoke.

It was quick and by the time he spoke again, the look was gone. "Edmund is right, Caspian. You will have all the aid you need. This is your place, and you are ready to take it."

Glozelle quietly added. "I already promised my allegiance, my liege," he told Caspian. "And if I may be so bold, and please do not take offense, King Peter, but I would much sooner follow Caspian than you and your siblings. Not because of disrespect, but because he is familiar and you four are the stuff of legends long forgotten."

Peter nodded grimly. "No offense taken, good general. In time, you will all realize we are more like you than you were led to believe. Talking animals have families and feelings, just as Telmarines do."

Aslan rose. "I am pleased with all of you," he said. "Beyond the gates of the Telmarine castle, it will be my honor to crown another King of Narnia – though I'll need you, Peter, to be my hands."

The High King nodded. "It would be my pleasure," he said quietly, studying Caspian, who still hadn't looked up from his hands. "After all, if Caspian really has learned a little bit from each of us, which is what I think the prophecy meant, than he will be a great King."

That brought Caspian's head up and his eyes to Peter. There was gratitude in those dark orbs, and Peter nodded at the unspoken thanks.

The silence was broken when Lucy suddenly gasped. "Aslan, we can't attend a coronation in these clothes, we'll look like beggars and that wouldn't be much of a first impression," she said, looking to the great lion.

He chuckled heartily. "Worry not, dear one. I've already taken care of it. Last night I sent out a gryphon and a Faun to fetch attire from the treasure chamber at Cair Paravel. All will be well."

Silence fell over the small group for several minutes, until Glenstorm and Trumpkin arrived to announce that things were set to break camp and move on to the castle.

Breaking camp had been a relatively easy affair. But the journey back was slow, with wounded and two large armies fanning out behind Aslan, the young rulers and Caspian and Glozelle.

Peter, still pained by his wounds, let out an exasperated puff of air as the horse beneath him jostled him roughly yet again. Shifting on the horse's back, he glared at Edmund who was giving him an "I told you so" look. As usual, Peter was riding bareback. But as was not usual, this Telmarine horse was not used to being ridden as such and it was a rough ride.

"Can you still feel your backside?" Susan chuckled. "Because with all that bouncing, I wouldn't be surprised if you couldn't." She only smiled at the mock evil glare her older brother was giving her. "We did tell you not to remove the saddle, but you are stubborn, brother."

Peter was about to respond when the horse he was riding suddenly spooked and the High King felt himself falling backward before he could get a better grip on the reins held loosely in his hands.

He dimly heard a cry of "Peter" and it sounded like Edmund, but he couldn't respond as he toppled backward. Clamping his eyes shut, he waited for the jarring, painful impact, but instead, he felt arms stop his fall and straighten him on the horse.

Cracking open his eyes, shaking from the near fall, Peter saw his rescuer.

An old Faun, who Peter vaguely recalled was a healer, smiled softly at the young monarch. "Close call there, my liege," he said, making sure Peter was steady before he let go of the King's back. "All right?"

Clutching his right hand to his shoulder, Peter nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. I must thank you for catching me though, I think it would have been very bad if I'd fallen." Shifting and scrunching his nose at the renewed pain in his wounds, he looked closer at the Faun. "What's your name?"

Smiling faintly, the Faun replied. "Tumnus."

"Tumnus!" Lucy exclaimed, twisting in her saddle. "Is it really? Oh my!"

Peter chuckled. "Any relation to Mr. Tumnus, Lucy's very best friend?" He didn't expect the head shake in the affirmative and his eyes widened. "Really? You are related? Well, doubly a pleasure to meet you." He stuck out his hand, which the Faun simply stared at. "Oh, right," Peter blushed.

Lucy laughed heartily. "Oh Peter," she said, "only you and I. Mr. Tumnus reacted the same way when I tried to shake his hand my first time in Narnia." She turned her eyes on the old Faun. "Can you tell us about Mr. Tumnus? After we left?"

The old Faun nodded. "The stories of his meeting you, his time with the Witch, the battle at Beruna, and the Golden Age have been passed down from son to son in our family, and I know them well."

Walking beside Peter's horse, ever the observant healer and worried the King had irritated his injuries, he used the stories as an excuse to continue hovering. For the next hour, he told of the turmoil the kingdom had been thrown into when the Pevensies left. How Mr. Tumnus had risen to the challenge as best he could and helped to keep things running. How when the Telmarines invaded, Mr. Tumnus had valiantly helped defend Cair Paravel until the castle had been doomed to fall and he had retreated.

"Before he left Cair Paravel, he made certain that your belongings were well hidden in the chamber in which you surely found them," he said. "But he did remove King Peter's sword, because he couldn't risk it falling into enemy hands."

Peter looked down at the Faun. "So that's why it was at the How and not in Cair Paravel?" He frowned. "So Mr. Tumnus knew of the prophecy? But how did he know the sword was important, it doesn't expressly say so?"

Lucy had turned to Aslan when Tumnus had mentioned the sword.

"Did you tell him? Is that what that painting is all about at the How?" she asked the great lion.

Aslan nodded. "Yes, dear one. It was I who foretold the prophecy, and I revealed it to Mr. Tumnus because I knew he would assure that Rhindon was well-guarded. He was very loyal and very trustworthy."

The great lion stood silently before the Faun.

"Aslan, they will take Cair Paravel by nightfall. Can we do nothing?" Mr. Tumnus glanced behind him toward the doorway, half-expecting a Telmarine soldier to come barreling into the treasure chamber any moment.

Weary, Aslan shook his golden head and his warm eyes shone with sorrow. "No, dear Tumnus. Cair Paravel is destined to fall, and Narnia is destined to remain hidden for many years. But there is one task I must ask of you to ensure Narnia's future."

Tumnus drew himself up to his full height. "Anything you ask, my liege, and it shall be done." Aslan drew closer, padding past the Faun and up to the chest that held High King Peter's left-behind belongings.

"The sword of the High King is the key to a prophecy. If it is lost, hope is lost, for it is the final piece that will bring peace and prosperity to Narnia. Take it and go to the How you so carefully constructed. Make certain it is well-hidden."

The sheath and golden hilt of Rhindon lay atop King Peter's armor and Tumnus hesitated a moment before reaching down and carefully pulling the blade and sheath from the chest.

Holding it close to his body, the Faun nodded solemnly. "I'll see to it, my liege."

Aslan nodded. "I know you will do well. Hide it well, but leave a clue to its existence. When the time is right, it must be found."

Tumnus watched as Aslan turned and began the ascent from the chamber. He could hear the Telmarine catapults bombarding Cair Paravel and he knew, somehow, that this was it.

As Aslan disappeared into the nearby forest, Tumnus took one last look at the magnificent royal residence and then turned away and hurried off. He would hide it well and he would add one more painting to those he had already graced the How walls with – so when the time came, the sword would be found.

"Wow, Mr. Tumnus painted all those wonderful pictures," Lucy said, her voice quiet. "I never knew he was such an artist. He never said anything about it." She looked to Aslan, who was watching her. "I miss him. I wish I had been able to say goodbye."

The great lion stepped closer, his side brushing against her leg. "He knew you cared for him," Aslan said. "And someday, you will meet again."

Caspian, riding beside Edmund, turned to the Faun now and voiced his own question. "When was the prophecy carved into the cavern outside Cair Paravel?"

Looking at the young prince, Tumnus replied, "Old Tobias ran from Cair Paravel the day the castle fell. He was wounded, and knew that besides my ancestor, no one else knew of the prophecy. Not knowing if Tumnus had survived, he spent the next three days carefully leaving that inscription before he died of his wounds."

Peter and Caspian turned to each other, each realizing Tobias must have died alone in the dreary cavern they had sought shelter in and both felt sorrow for the Narnian. But both were also thankful he had found the strength to leave record of the prophecy.

As night enveloped the forest and Telmarines and even Narnians began to stumble and trip in the waning light, Peter called a halt and slid gracelessly from his horse's back with a cringe.

Standing still for a moment, he waited for the soreness to die down before turning around and handing the reins to a nearby Faun who would take the horses to be groomed, watered and fed.

Glancing to the right, he watched Edmund experimentally stretch his wounded arm and grimace. Deciding it was time for a little "over-protective Peter" for a change, he smiled and walked up behind his little brother.

"Oh, Edmund, I saw that," he said into the dark-haired youth's ear. "You're going to let me redress your arm. Right?" He smiled when Edmund stiffened. "Say yes, Ed. Because I won't take no for an answer."

A small shaking in Edmund's shoulders alerted Peter to the fact his brother was chuckling and trying to hold it in. He pulled a sour face and turned Edmund around by his good shoulder.

"You won't be laughing in a minute, Ed," he said with a small grin. "I don't have to be gentle like Su." He laughed when Edmund held up his hands in mock surrender and smiled.

"You win, Peter. I'll let you take care of me. I've been doing a fair bit of coddling lately." He reached out and handed his own horse's reins over, then followed Peter to Tumnus where his brother gathered the supplies he would need and then led them off a ways so they could be alone.

There was silence as Peter helped Edmund shrug out of his tunic and reveal the wound. It needed a good cleaning and a new bandage, but overall looked like it was healing well.

As he cleaned away the old blood and applied a new herbal paste to ward off infection, he sighed. "Edmund?" His brother hummed in question but didn't speak. "We have to talk." Now Edmund shifted and Peter rushed on. "No, we aren't saving it for later again, Ed."

His brother grumbled but didn't argue. "All right," he said, wincing a little when Peter worked a crusted bit of blood away from his wound. "I suppose we've waited long enough."

Peter nodded, then realized Edmund was facing away from him, and said, "Yes, we have." He set about wrapping the bandage around his brother's wound and then sat beside him, leaning against a nearby tree trunk. When Ed settled back too, he went on. "I'm sort of glad you made me wait until later, actually. I kept telling myself during the duel that I had to win so I could talk to you later."

Edmund smiled. "I'm glad."

Peter sobered, "But before we get into anymore skirmishes, I have to tell you Edmund, I don't express my appreciation for you nearly enough. It goes all the way back to our reign, actually. You really were always there and I took it for granted."

He drew his left leg up and rested his arm on it trying to relieve the soreness in his injured shoulder. Edmund remained silent, sensing Peter wasn't finished. He was proven right as Peter went on. "I think that I thought you knew, and you probably do, Ed, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't tell you what it means to me from time to time." Turning, he looked at the side of Ed's head and waited until the younger King turned toward him. "So, thanks Ed. For always being there for me. Even when I … act like I'd rather you left me alone."

His brother let out a shaky breath.

For a moment, Edmund couldn't think what to say. Honestly, he knew Peter was grateful for his help. And he didn't really need to hear it. It was nice to, yes, but it wasn't necessary. Still, it seemed it was important for Peter to say it.

"Well, you're welcome," he said quietly. "While I already knew it, it was nice to hear it. And Peter, you're always there for me too, you know. Even when I ran off to the White Witch, you were all set to run in there after me. Weaponless. Having no idea what you were getting into. You had every right to let me stay for my treachery, but you didn't even contemplate it, did you?"

Peter shook his head. "Not for a second. I was terribly angry at you, Ed, don't get me wrong. But I could never let you be hurt if I could do anything about it. It's just not in me."

Edmund shifted uncomfortably. "We're getting too sappy, Peter. And I'm hungry. Are we good?"

The young High King nodded. "I think we are, Ed. Let's go fill that bottomless pit you call a stomach, shall we?" He stood and braced himself, offering Edmund a hand up. He was pleased when Edmund grabbed it, though he hardly pulled on it to stand.

Suddenly remembering something, Peter gestured toward Ed's neck. "Where did you get the leather necklace?" he asked his brother. "It's very nice."

Edmund smiled and told him about Willowwind presenting it to him while Peter was sleeping. "It's supposed to bring the bearer wisdom, she told me," he added, fingering the leather lightly.

"Hmm," Peter said. "I wonder if one could 'add' something to it and make it bring the bearer a bit of patience. Oh, and perhaps a bit of self-preservation-when-brother-is-in-danger? What do you think?"

He laughed when Edmund smacked his arm lightly. "Very funny, Peter. Hilarious really. Can't you see me laughing?"

With identical smiles, the brothers walked side by side back to camp. While they both hoped they had many, many more years before they were separated by death, if it did happen, they were content in the knowledge they had expressed their feelings.

They were drawn from their thoughts by a commotion ahead.

"Peter! Edmund! Come quickly, you have to see this!" Lucy was jumping excitedly beside two large canvas bags that had just been set down by a gryphon. A Faun slid off the gryphon's back and led him away to get some food and drink.

Edmund drew alongside his sister. "What is it, Lu?" he questioned, eying the bulging bags.

"Those are coronation clothes, Your Majesty, from Cair Paravel," the faun who had just arrived said. "I gathered as much as I could and I'm most certain I found everything you should need, my lord."

Lucy was still bouncing on her feet and even Susan cracked a smile at the prospect of something clean to wear. "Let's see, shall we?" Peter said, breaking the anticipation as he drew open one of the bags and reached in.

He pulled a silver white gown from the bag, with silky, satin sleeves and small pearl beads lining the rounded neck. The crushed velvet garment was adorned with beads at intervals all the way to the bottom, which was embellished with more beads.

The Valiant Queen showed her age when she squealed happily and took the proffered dress from Peter's hands. The older boy chuckled at her enthusiasm and reached back into the bag to pull out a velvet orange-red cape with satin lining the same color as the dress. Large golden embossed designs were spaced across it and he handed it to Lucy as well.

"Oh, Peter! It's the dress I wore at our coronation!" Lucy exclaimed, recognizing it immediately. "I knew it had been packed away, but I wouldn't have thought that it would have survived all this time!"

Peter nodded. "When Mr. Tumnus stored our belongings, he must have grabbed everything that was of any importance to us in an effort to keep them safe."

Digging a little deeper, he came up with another gown, this one longer and made of a blue-silver velvet with gold leaf embroidery and gold, false buttons down the front. The neck was edged in a darker blue, which matched the flowing sleeves.

He handed the beautiful garment to Susan with a smile, then pulled a dark blue velvet cloak from the bag. This was also embroidered, but with silver designs instead of gold and was lined with a silver-white satin.

Beside him, Edmund realized there was a trend here and opened the bag in front of him to reveal a soft sea-gray blue tunic, the velvet subtly shifting in color in the firelight, one moment appearing dark gray before shifting into a lighter hue.

He pulled it out and studied the light blue design on the front before reaching in and drawing out a deep navy silk undershirt, a pair of silver white leggings and a long, silver velvet cape with a twisted silver cord edging. There were also small designs along the back.

Turning to his brother, he watched as Peter moved from the first bag to the second and reached in, drawing out a bright, golden velvet cape lined with pale yellow satin. He held it up for a moment before stooping again and pulling from the bag a dark blue velvet tunic with a mandarin collar and gold edging along the bottom hem.

There was an intricate golden design on the front, which the eldest boy fingered before digging into the bag again and removing a light blue satin undershirt and golden leggings.

At the bottom of both bags, they found boots, dark brown for both boys, and soft satin shoes for the girls. But their joy was not yet complete, because the Faun moved toward Aslan with another bag in his hands and waited for the great lion to nod his approval.

Caspian, standing to the side, glanced at Dr. Cornelius, who had drawn up beside him to watch as the Pevensies looked upon their old coronation clothing and then turned to the Faun and Aslan.

"I think it is high time you had these back," the lion said warmly. "You've proven many times over how right my decision was to crown you Kings and Queens of Narnia, dear ones."

The Faun reached into the bag and drew out a silver crown made of tiny laurel leaves, interspersed with yarrow and laurel flowers. The laurel flowers were white in color and the yarrow flowers gold.

Lucy hesitated for a short moment, lightly running a finger over the crown before taking it into her hands with a small smile. She turned as the Faun moved to Edmund and drew out a silver crown that came to a point in the front, adorned with leaves but in a decidedly more masculine fashion.

He took it with a smile and nodded his thanks, turning it over in his hands.

Susan shifted as the Faun approached her and reached into the bag to draw out another crown – this one a wreath of daffodils and mountain ash leaves. The flowers were gold, mother-of-pearl and set against golden leaves.

There seemed to be an air of anticipation among the group as the Faun came to a stop before Peter, who had yet to move from beside the bag and still clutched his clothing.

From the bag, the Faun drew out a golden crown, this one larger than the three others. There were red stones set in the band and groups of three leaves at even intervals along the top.

Peter took it with an unreadable expression on his face and stared at it. He said nothing as he wrapped it in his cloak and looked back up at the group, all of whom seemed to be looking at him.

"We have a lot to do tomorrow, I think I'd like to get some sleep," he said quietly, not meeting anyone's eyes as he turned and moved off, settling down.

Lucy watched her brother and noticed his melancholy. There was nothing to be done for it now, but later was another story. But then a question that she had wondered about for some time occurred to her and she turned to Aslan, who was watching them all with love and warmth in his great golden eyes.

"Aslan…" she paused, not sure how to ask her question.

"Yes, dear one?" he rumbled.

She hesitated, before just moving to ask before she lost her nerve. "Aslan…ever since we first arrived in Narnia, it was almost…inevitable that we would become the Kings and Queens…but why us? What was so special about us that you felt we were worthy to rule? Why did you put your faith in us and give us your love?" She had been trying to place more faith in herself since the battle at the bridge and since receiving Peter's forgiveness, but now, on the eve of watching someone else ascend to the throne, it made her wonder if Aslan still considered her (and her family) worthy.

Everyone still gathered turned to the great lion, who let out a low chuckle at the question.

"Dear one, there are some things that not even I can predict. As I told your brother, the Deep Magic governs all in Narnia, and it will never fail to provide what Narnia needs. But when you entered Narnia, I knew that the time of prophecy had come, and I knew you would be the ones. When I first laid eyes on you, you were all so young, and despite your bravery, you were afraid. But I could see the qualities that Narnia needed in all of you." A small smile crossed Aslan's face. "You were all willing to fight for a land that wasn't your own, and it was easy to love you for your willingness, your compassion, and your faith." He looked around at all of them, that same love shining brightly in his eyes. "I am very proud of all of you. I was then, and I am now."

Everyone straightened up a little more at the lion's praise, and Aslan turned back to Lucy. "Does that answer your question, dear one?"

Lucy nodded and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Aslan's neck again and hugging him for a very long moment, before she stepped back. Fingering her crown and clothes again, she joined Susan and Edmund and the three of them followed Peter in order to bed down for the night.

The next day saw the Pevensies shed their battle attire and slip into something they had never thought they'd wear again. As each garment was added to the ensembles, each one of them gave off new aura – before they had been known as royals, now they truly looked the part.

Peter smoothed down the dark blue tunic and fidgeted with the clasp on his cloak before stooping down to pick up another pile of clothes, these of green and gold.

Glancing around, he spied Caspian speaking with Dr. Cornelius and headed in his direction. Edmund, Susan and Lucy watched him in confusion until they noticed he was carrying a bundle of clothing and smiled.

"Oh Caspian," Peter called out with a broad grin on his face. "If we have to wear these annoying things, then so do you, my friend."

Dr. Cornelius swallowed a lump in his throat and gaped. It was as if Peter had stepped out of the story book that the good doctor often perused late at night when dreaming what it would have been like to live in the Golden Age. Even without the crown of the High King, he looked exactly as the man would have imagined him.

"Excuse me, Your Majesty," he said, moving away. Peter looked after him oddly, before turning back to Caspian. The latter watched his old mentor leave and sighed. "What?" Peter asked.

Caspian sighed. "Oh, nothing, Your Majesty. I think perhaps it just really hit him that you are the High King Peter he told me stories about, is all," the prince said with a smile. He eyed the clothing in Peter's arms. "What is that?"

Peter held it out and waited for Caspian to gather all the pieces into his own arms. "Your clothes," he said in response. "Well, they were mine when I was older…but since I'm younger, they don't fit. And, well, you can't go to your own coronation in blood-stained, sweaty armor, Caspian."

The other boy laughed and shook his head. "I guess not. Care to show me how these go?"

Peter nodded and proceeded to make sure Caspian figured everything out. Soon, the Telmarine prince was standing in front of him. Soft, dark brown boots with forest green leggings tucked into them. A light green undershirt peeked out from underneath a forest green tunic with a stylized outline of a lion embroidered in gold and gold trim lining the bottom.

Caspian bounced on the balls of his feet uncertainly as Peter handed him an emerald green cloak and helped him fasten the clasp in front with a look of concentration; or perhaps a look of slight pain, since he was reaching upward a bit.

"There," Peter said. "Now you look like a king." He stepped back and the first thing Caspian did was tug at the mandarin collar of his tunic. "Hey, now, none of that," Peter said with a laugh before leaving Caspian to mount his horse and join Susan.

He returned to where he had left his own things and frowned. "Now I swear I left it right here…" he muttered, looking around the area beside his horse. "That's odd."

A small voice chimed in from behind him. "Not really, Peter."

Spinning, he saw his youngest sister with a golden crown in her hands standing before him.

He let out a breath. "I thought I'd lost it already," he said, gesturing to the crown. "What are you doing, Lu?"

She stepped forward and tapped him on the leg with her foot. He frowned and then lowered himself down to her height and she smiled, reached up and lightly set the crown on his head.

"There," she said, leaning in and giving him a hug. "And don't you ever think you don't deserve to wear that, Peter," she whispered in his ear before releasing him.

He stood up and smiled lightly. "I won't. I'll always have you around to remind me, Lucy." She nodded and the two mounted their horses to start the final leg of their journey toward the Telmarine castle.

"Leave it!"

Caspian jerked in surprise when the usually docile Queen Susan practically shouted at him. Pulling his hand down from where it had been tugging at his fancy collar, Caspian blushed. "Sorry. I do not usually wear such trappings."

Susan softened a little. "I know the feeling. The boys felt the same way the first time they had to wear formal attire," she said, furtively making sure her brothers weren't listening. "As a matter of fact, if I remember right, Peter grumbled right up until we entered the hall for our coronation. So don't let him get away with chiding you."

A soft smile crossed the young man's face. "I'll remember that," he said.

They fell into silence as the towers of the Telmarine castle peeked into view in the distance, steadily growing larger and closer. Caspian felt a lump forming in his throat as they drew near.

How am I going to do this? he thought to himself. I'm not like King Peter. I was shaking in my boots during the raid, seeking revenge, and then riding through the gate like I had a wolf on my tail. I didn't think for a minute to defend the minotaur.

He cast a glance toward Peter, laughing at something Edmund had just said, at ease in the royal clothing he had adorned for the occasion. Beside him, Edmund appeared as comfortable as his brother.

And King Edmund. I cannot see how one so young can be so wise. I know they grew up in Narnia the first time, but of them all, he had most reason to want revenge on the White Witch. And he did not take it when it was placed in his grasp. It was the most difficult thing I have ever done, not to kill Miraz. And how will I react upon seeing my cousin and aunt?

Beside him Queen Susan was chatting gaily with General Glenstorm, who had drawn abreast of her for the moment, though he would fade back when the reached the gates.

I am a warrior, I have never had cause to be something else. How will I be gentle in matters of court when I have very little experience being so? Queen Susan has a talent, she can change as surely as the seasons. Will I really be able to do the same?

The ringing laugh of Queen Lucy drew his attention to where she was riding and talking with Healer Tumnus, probably reminiscing about his relative Mr. Tumnus. Even after his ill-thought suggestion for the raid, and his actions during it, she had faith in his leadership.

Nothing shakes her faith in Aslan, though sometimes she seems lacking in faith in herself. Even when Aslan was not there, and there was no evidence he would come, she did not waiver in her faith. Could I have faith in something I cannot feel, cannot see, cannot call upon?

He nearly jumped out of his saddle when a deep voice sounded from behind him.

"I believe you can do all those things and more."

Aslan's warm, golden eyes met Caspian's wide, dark ones and the young man found himself suddenly believing he could do just about anything because the lion believed in him.

"Thank you," he said with a small smile before twisting back forward and casting his doubts from his mind. He would do this. He could do this. Because he'd never be alone.

It was the excited shouts that drew Queen Prunaprismia from the rocking chair she was sitting in, feeding her infant son Miraz, the second. Brow creased in confusion, she pushed open the window to the small nursery and leaned out. Spying a young guard, she called out, "What is going on, guardsman?"

The man looked up and bowed to his lady. "An army approaches, my lady. And rumors say that Prince Caspian and the Narnian Kings and Queens are at the head of it, Your Majesty."

Prunaprismia gasped. But that would mean…my husband? Moving quickly, she gently laid the young baby in his bed and moved into the next room to change out of her dressing gown into a soft, purple velvet gown with silver sleeves. She flung a silver cloak over her shoulders and then gathered Miraz up and hurried out the doors.

Rushing through the dark, stone corridors, she burst out on the castle steps just as Caspian and four children – two boys and two girls, two of whom she recognized from the night raid – dismounted just beyond the gates. Beside them was a larger than normal golden lion.

Extending her vision, she took in the many different creatures spreading out behind the monarchs and beyond them, the remnants of the Telmarine army. Her heart thudded in her chest and she saw no sign of her husband.

She spied General Glozelle and a lesser lord, but Miraz and Lord Sopespian were no where in sight. Prunaprismia held her son tighter to her chest and the baby whimpered until she loosened a bit.

Her eyes returned to the lion and she found him looking at her with sorrow. That surprised her. And it must mean that Miraz was not coming back, for why else would anyone look at her in such a fashion?

Swallowing, she watched as the lion opened his mouth – and spoke.

The people who had surged from the castle and from around it gasped as the great beast called out, "The Telmarine army has surrendered arms to Prince Caspian, and they have sworn fealty to him as their sovereign," the lion said. "He also holds the allegiance of the Narnian army and the support of Narnia's High King, whose lordship covers all these lands."

Turning to Caspian and Peter, Aslan paused before continuing.

"It is my right, as King above Kings in Narnia, to crown Caspian the Tenth a King of Narnia and to place him upon the Telmarine throne – as is his birthright," the lion said.

Caspian knew this was his cue and with a quick glance at his mentor, he stepped forward and stood before the lion. His hands were lightly shaking and sweating, but he showed no other outward signs of how nervous he was.

"Will you, Caspian, tenth in that noble line, solemnly promise and swear to govern over the Telmarine and Narnian kingdoms according to the respective laws and customs set out by myself at the dawn of Time? Will you assure that the laws are followed and justice is metered out in all your judgments as King?"

Caspian's voice was clear as he answered. "I promise and swear to uphold the laws and customs you have set out, and to assure that laws are followed and that justice prevails in all my judgments and actions," he said. There was no quaver, no doubt and no hesitation as he said the words that would seal his place as a King of Narnia.

Aslan nodded, pleased, and then turned to where Peter and General Glozelle were standing beside him. He felt all eyes watching the scene play out as Peter removed the Telmarine crown from a cushion in Glozelle's hands and shifted his blue-eyed gaze to Caspian's.

There was a small, sympathetic smile on the High King's face as he stepped closer and beckoned for Caspian to bend lower. The young man did so, and Peter settled the crown in place.

While it was physically light, Peter knew a crown was mentally heavy and before Caspian straightened back up, he said quietly, "It's your turn, my friend, and we all believe in you and will be with you."

The young prince-turned-King stood back up and smiled, nodding his thanks to the High King before turning back around toward what were now his subjects. It would hit him later, he was sure, but right now, all he felt was an odd sort of elation.

Perhaps I can do this, he thought to himself. Bring peace, justice and prosperity to my people and the Narnians.

With that in mind, he took his first step as a King.

A/N: Reviews are much appreciated. Most of them anyway.