A/N: This chapter should answer a couple of questions that have come up I think. Not all, but some. Oh, and technically I'm supposed to be on hiatus for the month of January, but I saw how long it'd been since I updated this story, and I figured it was time to do something about it. Shorter then the previous one I know, but that's so that some things can take place next chapter.

Other than that, please read and review!

Chapter Four

The long, cold steps down to the armory were well kept, though dimly lit. In fact, most of the castle could be described that way. Clean, and with something of a forgotten splendor. Susan found herself concentrating on the intricate patterns in stones, the fascinating lights the torch threw on the walls, or the interesting designs the shadows threw up, in fact, almost anything but the fact that she was expected to save an entire country.

She was startled by the heavy thudding sound of a bolt being drawn back as the old man (what was his name?) opened a large door at the bottom of the steps.

"After you your majesty." He said, holding the door. Still feeling slightly awkward about being a "Your Majesty" at all, Susan stepped into the room.

This was one place that had clearly been very well kept. It was strongly lit, and the weapons were in good condition. This was the armory of a Narnia at war. Susan surveyed the room, taking in swords, bows, axes, daggers, shields, and all manner of other things. The man cleared his throat, and Susan turned.

He was holding out her bow.

For some inexplicable reason, just looking at it, this instrument of war being offered to her, was almost intimidating. It was brilliantly polished, and it shone in the light from the wall torches. The arrows were still as sharp as every, the bow as well strung. But something seemed different about it, it wasn't as…familiar, as it had been before.

Tentatively, Susan reached out a hand and took the bow.

And nothing happened.

She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, whether she thought it would bite her, or burn her, or whether she'd drop it out of some kind of strange fear. But no, nothing terrible happened.

Neither did anything good.

The last time Susan had held this bow, even after an absence of years from Narnia, her hand had molded itself to fit the shape, and an instant recognition had filled her. A sense of absolute confidence in her ability to use the bow and arrows. This time it felt strange and heavy in her hands, and her fingers were unsure of how to place themselves so as to hold it properly. She fumbled, uncertain. Kindly, the man reached out and adjusted her fingers to sit in their proper places, though he said nothing.

What had once been her bow, the bow almost, was now just a bow, one among many. Susan sighed, and did her best to hold it as though she knew what she was doing as she followed the man back up the stairs.

"I expect," he said, turning to her with a grave look on his little face, "that you'll want to know a bit more about what's happened to the other three?"

By the "other three", Susan realized, he meant Peter, Edmund, and Lucy.

"Yes please." She replied quietly.

"Just so, just so." He nodded, leading her a little ways. "Here then, we'll sit here," he indicated a bench, "and I'll explain everything I know."

"First things are first. Lucy and Edmund were the first ones we tried to call back, because they were the youngest, and of course, Lucy discovered it, or so we'd heard. Of course, without Aslan's approval (and one suspects, his help) we never could have done it. But done it was Daughter of Eve, and they set out. We knew about the prophecy then of course, but we were fairly well convinced (and your siblings confirmed it) that you couldn't be brought back to Narnia. We hoped Lucy could pick up a bow instead, to fulfill the prophecy."

"She and Edmund set out from this castle towards the lands of the witch, with a small company of centaurs and others to help them. They sent word back by falcon a few times, but after a bit, the word stopped coming."

Susan bit her lip, immediately realizing what the most obvious explanation for this was. Death or capture. She shuddered. The man nodded sympathetically.

"The next step then was to attempt to call in the High King, though we had a great deal more trouble with that, and once again of course our attempts must have been favored by Aslan. Though he has not been seen in years, that doesn't mean he's not here, and we all know it. But His Majesty, your brother of course, did appear. He was confused, but the minute he heard that Edmund and Lucy were gone, he set off after them, with help once again. And once again, after a time, no word came."

Susan didn't say anything, staring down into her lap and clenching her fists so hard that her nails dug into her palms. Regardless of how relations had been between she and her siblings since she'd forgotten Narnia (from distant to cold, to barely speaking), she was still, after all, their sister. And now, clearly, the job to rescue them fell on her shoulders. She felt her stomach clench.

"Alright," She said, trying to sound as composed as possible, remember her court manners, and keep from screaming, "Thank you very much. I will…I will set out as soon as possible if you please. I presume you have no other plan of action?"

The man gave her a grave look. "I appreciate the necessity for speed my queen, and would not dream of standing in your way. If tomorrow is not to soon, we will send you out with a small party then, and the complications of the Enchantress Kali can be explained to you on the way."

Susan was to preoccupied to even do more then be slightly frightened at the word "complications." Instead, she gave a brief nod and hastily stood up to retire to her room, certain that the next situation that required court manners from her would instead receive a brusque reply and a quick retreat.

Once in her rooms, Susan sat on the bed. Then, finding herself unable to sit still, she stood up again, pacing the room. Her fingers found the necklace again, and she played with its pendant absentmindedly.

Always, in the back of her mind, there had been the thought that she could somehow back out if things got hairy, or undoable. If an impossible situation arose, she'd always thought somewhere that she could always leave. Now that she gave it real thought, of course she didn't even know how to get back home.

But more importantly, of course she couldn't leave now. Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy were here now, and obviously in need of help. These people seemed to think that she was the one to provide that help. And she would, of course provide it.

She felt something not entirely unlike rage boiling in her veins. Her siblings, her family, the ones who had reigned with her in the Golden Age of Narnia, were missing. And if she was the one who could save them, she would do it.

Susan spent the rest of the day walking around the room feeling the anger and sense of purpose build. She had a job to do now.

A/N: Well, don't expect anything more out of me until February, 'k:P Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and please let me know what you thought!

P.S.: Realized, to late to fix it as there now seems to be something wrong with Word on my computer (good thing I got this uploaded first) that I made a mistake. We do know the old man's name now, and I shouldn't have had Susan say she didn't. My bad, sorry!