Author's Note: -shocked by number of reviews- Thanks guys! Anyway, this chapter's as long as the other one. (WOOT!) This subject came up in more than one of my reviews - when are Peter and Aceline going to get back together? Sorry, but I can't tell you. But I shall be dropping very subtle hints throughtout the following chapters. By the way, Peter seems a bit OOC in this chapter.

DevilishAngel112: The "OCs Used" are by request and sure, you can request one. The more the merrier, right?
Queen Emily the Wise: Your question is answered in the chapter.

Inspiration: Avril Lavigne's "Complicated", Alexz Johnson's "That Girl", Simple Plan's "Crash and Burn", Aly and A.J.'s "Never Far Behind', Aly and A.J.'s "Collasped", Kelly Clarkson's "Beautiful Disaster", Augustana's "Boston"

Quote from Chapter: "Why won't you believe me?"


Chapter Thirty: The Changing of Opinions

"I can't believe they all fell sick," Aceline said. It was the day of the tournament and she was getting ready. Artymis, who had arrived the day before, sat on her bed, already dressed. They were discussing the fact that every Archenlandian male they knew - Dar, Darrin, Tynan, Keagan - had fallen ill with the flu.

"It's a shame really; they would have loved to compete in the tournament," Artymis commented.

"It really is," the Princess replied, adjusting her necklace in the mirror.

"You know you're thrilled, Ace," Lucylita's voice came from the closet. "That way there's no one stopping you and your knight in shining armor." The speaker came out tying a ribbon around her neck and wearing an amused expression.

"Who, Lita?" she asked innocently, brushing her hair. Lucylita and Artymis looked at each other before they broke into song.

"James and Aceline, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G." They couldn't continue, seeing as they broke into laughter at the sight of Aceline's red face.

"Well, we have to go down anyway," Lucylita said dismissively. "Ace will want to see her knight in shining armor."

"Oh, you two," she reprimanded.

"You know we're only joking," Artymis chuckled. The three went down arm-in-arm, looking quite merry in their silk and velvet dresses. They each wore veils in their hair to protect their heads from the sun (it was quite hot out) and wore dresses with nearly plunging necklines. Aceline separated from them to join the Pevensies while they drifted away to the stands.

"I say, Ace, you certainly are getting girlier by the second," Edmund proclaimed when she was in earshot, looking at her up and down. She rolled her eyes as she walked between Lucy and Peter. The blonde grabbed her hand.

"You'll love the tournament," she told her. "It'll be terribly wonderful."

"I still don't see what you fancy about knights knocking other knights off their horses," Susan shuddered. "It sounds perfectly gruesome."

"I wish I was competing," the brothers said in wistful unison.

"Then let's go so you won't wallow," the Princess teased. They walked down the Grand Staircase, laughing and sprinting joyously. They came out onto a dais, where five thrones were waiting for them. Vines and flower chains were wrapped around the arms of them and satin cushions rested on the seats. Aceline took her seat to Edmund's right. On Edmund's left was Peter, then Susan, then Lucy.

A smile graced her features as James rode upto her on a black stallion.

"Your Royal Highnesses," he said, addressing them all. Then, he looked over at her and said, "My lady." He lowered his lance, so that its point was a mere five feet from her. She took the hint and stood, untying her neck ribbon as she walked towards him. He bowed his head in humility as she tied the narrow piece of cloth to the weapon.

"I thank you," he said, bowing his head.

"I wish you the best of luck, my lord," she said, curtseying. She turned around as he rode off, a slight flush playing at her cheeks. She resumed her seat next to an amused Edmund. All around her, the crowd spoke about what they had just witnessed. But Aceline, oblivious to all of this, merely adjusted the veil in her hair.

The first joust was between James and a Sir Rinhan of Galma.

Both men took their places, facing each other from the opposite ends of the field. A man stood directly across from the dais, a staff bearing a flag in his hands. He looked at the knights individually before waving the flag. The sound of hoofs against the dirt ground filled her ears as the two charged at each other. James easily overtook the Sir Rinhan, earning him cheers from the stands. He merely raised his gauntlet-covered hand in modesty.

As the tournament progressed, everyone could see that what the troubadours and minstrels sang about was true: Peter was the scepter, ruling and looking at his subjects with a regal and masculine dignity. Edmund was the sword, fighting Narnia's enemies without fear, without guilt, yet at the same time with courage and with fairness. Lucy was the light, shining brilliantly like the sun, her cheery, sun-browned, dimpled face showing her happiness and joy. Susan was the diamond, looking both delicate and beautiful as she sat in her jewels and silks and pearls, her gold crown gleaming on her brow. And Aceline was the rose, looking innocent and sweet and beautiful, but strong and ready to deal blood as the thorns on a rose's stem do.

Meanwhile, the Lord James knocked men after men off of their horses. Susan looked horrified as the knights fell into the ground, an occasional grunt escaping their lips. Aceline and the Kings - the true lovers of swordfighting - cheered and stomped their feet and clapped their hands. Lucy waved her handkerchief, occasionally applauding for the victor of the match.

"My, that Lord James is quite the knight," said one of Susan's ladies-in-waiting - a girl with her bosom nearly bursting from her neckline. "And he's rather easy on the eyes. I wouldn't mind being alone with him."

"Oh, you are shameless, Dezmela," another fellow attendant said. The shameless Dezmela merely giggled and then sighed as James lifted his visor and grinned at the Princess. She smiled and nodded, crossing her legs and leaning back into her throne. From somewhere to her left, she heard someone make a small noise of understanding. She turned and saw that the Pevensies were looking at her with amused expressions.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing," Peter smirked. She shook her head, her eyes turned upward to heaven.

Two hours later, a very impressed Peter declared James the winner.

The Archenlander bowed to the sovereigns, looking humble despite the many cheers he received from the stands. Aceline stood in front of him, looking radiant in red. She extended her hand invitingly, her expression serene.James quickly removed his right gauntlet and took the pale hand in his. As his lips brushed against her hand, she struggled to keep her face still, but her cheeks became flushed.

He looked up at her, and she noticed that his light green eyes had grown darker. His face showed a thinly concealed desire that her heart stood still. The Princess suddenly became very conscious of everything: how the laces and strings on her gown became very tight; how the silk stretched over her breasts and hips; and how everyone, including the Pevensies, was looking at her expectantly. Aceline looked in the stands, her eyes searching for four specific people. She finally found them; Artymis, Lucylita, Alenira and Narissara seemed to sense their friend's discomfort, for they looked at each other and then back at the Princess.

"Your Majesty?" She looked down at the lord, and managed a smile.

"Yes, my lord?" she said.

"I thank you for the token you gave me. It gave me the luck I needed to win."

"Your lordship," she breathed, "is only too kind to attribute your victory to me. It was your skill that helped you win."

"Beg pardon, my lady," he began, "But I insist that it was your grace that helped." Behind her, she heard Edmund whisper to Peter.

"This James bloke is certaintly smooth with his words. Look at Aceline!"

"I know, Ed. I don't like him either," Peter replied.

She ignored them both as she told James to stand up. He obeyed and bowed to her again. She watched him mount his horse in a way that suggested he was no novice to horseback riding.

"I hope to see you soon, Majesty," he said. He lightly kicked his horse as he rode off. The stands soon began to empty afterwards.

"What was that about, Ace?" Susan smiled.

"Nothing," she replied. She joined her four friends as they raced upto her.

"That was quite an interesting thing to watch," Alenira said.

"Agreed," Artymis laughed.

"Oh, some friends you are!" Aceline proclaimed grumpily.

--------

There were many things that Aceline liked to draw - animals, trees, the horizon, the merpeople and much more. But perhaps her favorite thing to sketch were lovers.

The Princess found herself drawing Peter and Kiara more than anything else. There was just something intriguing and funny about the two. Peter towered over the girl, who was a good three inches shorter than herself. Kiara was quite friendly and of the agreeable sort. Aceline liked her very much.

But it's amazing how one's opinion can change drastically after overhearing a conversation.

She was walking in the northernmost part of the castle, having taken the passageway on the second floor. There was an unnaturally heavy silence in the air.

"I know, but it's going to take a bit longer." Kiara's voice cut through the silence like a steel knife. She stopped dead in her tracks and strained her ears to cath the rest of the conversation.

"It is time you hurry." This new voice made her skin crawl.

"The army grows impatient," another grating voice added.

"Slivolin, do not rush me. That fool Peter keeps hovering at my shoulder everytime I turn. And Denoslo, you'll just have to keep the army in check." The Princess's forehead creased as she stried to figure out what Kiara and this Slivolin and Denoslo were talking about.

"We cannot bring back the Witch if the five brats are still alive," Denoslo said. She clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping. Kiara was a traitor! She didn't wait to hear the rest of the coversation. She ran in the opposite direction as quietly as she could. As soon as she was out of that part of the castle, she sprinted straight to Peter's room.

The Witch's followers were still alive...they were in hiding...and Kiara was leading them...She was momentarily blinded by surprise when she crashed into someone. The built and height told her it was Peter.

"Ace, what's wrong?" he asked, noticing her wide-eyed expression. She pulled him into his chambers and shut the door behind her.

"Peter, I have something to tell you," she said. "You might want to sit down." Aceline waited until he was sitting leisurely on his sofa.

"Kiara's a traitor," she blurted out. Now, Aceline had been thinking of a much better way to say this, but her tongue had beaten her mind in making the decision. Oh well, she thought. The High King's brow furrowed, making it clear that he didn't understand.

"What?" he asked.

"She's a traitor. I heard her talking with someone about bringing back the Witch," she said. Then, Peter did the very last thing she expected him to do.

He laughed.

"Oh, come on Ace. Kiara? Do you really think she would ever do something like that?" he chuckled. Her mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"Peter, I'm perfectly serious!" she snapped.

"Come off it!" He lost his amused demeanor and looked quite annoyed. "Do you think that she would be the type to ever betray someone?"

"Well, no," she replied lamely. "But she's still a traitor, no matter what you say!" The High King tilted his head to the side, giving her such a look of disbelief that her heart stood still for a second.

"You're not...jealous, are you?" he asked carefully. A moment later, he was rubbing a rather red cheek, looking outraged.

"How can you even suggest such a thing?" she shouted. Peter stood up, a thunderous expression on his face.

"Admit it, you are!" he yelled back. Aceline raised her hand to slap him again, but the High King grabbed her wrist and slammed her against the wall.

"I told you you'd regret it if you ever touched me again," he snarled. Her chest crumpled slightly as she looked up at him.

"Why won't you believe me?" she whispered, her anger draining out of her voice. Peter looked at her with a pained and hurt expression.

"Look, Aceline," he said quietly, "why are you trying to make me miserable again? Wasn't once enough for you?" He let her go and walked out of the room, despite the fact that they were standing in his chambers.

"Don't wreck my chance at happiness. Please, just don't," Peter begged, popping his head back into the room. Tears slid down her cheeks, down her nose, down her chin until they dropped onto the carpet. She ran to her room, closing the door behind her as she stepped inside. Sobs climbed her throat and escaped her lips.

Peter didn't believe her...The very person she thought would always believe her, no matter what...He didn't believe her...

Aceline threw herself onto her bed, her eyes now red from crying. Why was she being so dramatic? She wiped her tears with a shaky head. It wasn't like Peter and her had never fought before. But this is so much worse, she thought miserably.

"Aceline?" someone asked. She sat as quick as could be, her eyes darting wildly around. Lucylita stood a few feet away, a hat in her hands and her eyes wide as she took in the Princess's tear-stained face and very red eyes. She opened her mouth to explain, was interrupted by a sob, and ended up burying her face into her pillows. The Lone Islander dropped her hat and rushed towards her, arms open. If anyone had decided to take a peek into the room, they would have seen what looked like an older sister comforting a younger one.

Presently, Aceline's sobs quieted. The Watcher rubbed her back comfortingly. Hiccuping slightly, the Princess told her the reason why she had been crying. She watched as Lucylita's aqua eyes grew into a dark blue, a sure sign that she was angry, if not completely furious. To her surprise, the Lone Islander sat up suddenly, her senses matching those of a cat's. She put her finger to her lip and crept off the bed as quietly as possible. Aceline watched as she tip-toed over to the door and wrenched it open.

"Hmm," she said. "I could have sworn that someone was here."

"Lita?" she asked.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you think Peter won't believe me?" Her Watcher looked thoughtful as she sat next to her charge.

"I guess that's what love does to a person," was the answer. A shocked expression displayed itself on her face.

"He's in love with her?" she whispered in a hush voice. There was an inexplicable hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she didn't think much of it. Lucylita nodded before a nervous expression came across her naturally calm face.

"Ace, I have something very important to tell you."

"What is it?"

"Aslan came and spoke to me during the ball," she said. "He had some things to tell me, because I have to leave pretty soon." The Princess felt her mouth grow dry.

"Really?" she asked anxiously. Lucylita nodded, her eyes looking damp.

"Aslan says that my time is coming. And that reminds me," she said, giving her a sharp look, "Aceline, promise me you won't do anything rash after I'm gone. No matter what happens."

"But - "

"Ace."

"But what if - "

"Promise me." The Princess nodded, thought the Lone Islander could tell by her face that she didn't like to agree.

"Come on," Lucylita said softly. "I expect you're hungry."

The two went down, the thought of food lifting their spirits. But when she saw Kiara sitting next to Peter, anger erupted in the deepest part of her soul. She forced a smile on her face and sat in the only other empty seat - the one, ironically enough, in front of Peter's (Lucylita sat in the one beside her). She stiffened slightly as Kiara turned to look at her, smiling slightly. She nodded curtly, her face impassive. Peter glared at her and she glared right back. Susan, who was usually the first to catch on whenever something concerned the High King and the Princess, looked at them.

"Are you fighting?" she asked. Everyone knew that it was a rhetorical question, but they decided to answer it.

"Yes."

Their voices met in a quiet unison. Everyone, except Peter and Aceline, seemed to freeze up at their tones. They didn't sound angry; if anything, they sounded sad. The Princess looked at the High King, her eyes showing that she felt a mixture of sadness and despair, hurt and anger. Peter's eyes showed that he felt the same thing. But there was something like accusation - or something very close to it - in his irises. She looked at him miserably and his expression softened. He was ready to make up, but she knew - they both knew it - she had to say something that she would never say. Aceline shook her head and Peter's expression became relentless. He nodded coldly - rather, it was a jerk of his head - and continued to eat as if nothing happened.

--------

The two continued to fight, but they had reached an unspoken agreement that they would at least talk to each other. But they didn't speak to each other like they normally would; in fact, they were unnaturally cheerful to each other that everyone, even Lucy, who was the most perky of all of them, wanted them to just shut up.

One day, the Pevensies and Aceline were sitting in one of the living rooms that faced the East. The Princess was staring out the window, her hand under her chin. She could feel the eyes of the High King on her, so she turned her head in his direction. Sure enough, he was staring dead at her. She expected him to look at her angrily; fiercely would have even worked with her. But her heart skipped a beat at his expression. Peter was looking at her curiously, as if she were something on display. She flushed the lightest pink and turned away. Meanwhile, Peter went back to his book. But he still glanced at her from time to time.

The sound of crying drifted into the room. Lucy was the first to notice it.

"I say, who's crying?" she asked, getting up. Edmund and Peter followed her out of the room. Susan and she glanced at each other before following suit.

The girls saw the two Kings and the youngest Queen bending over someone. Peter had his arms around the person. Her face hardened as she gazed at the person.

It was Kiara.

The Lone Islander had her face half-buried in Peter's tunic. There was a letter in her hands. She could just make out the words "parents", "dead", "come" and "Galma".

So Kiara's parents are dead, eh?, she thought. She looked at the girl. Her expression was one of sadness, but her eyes showed triumph. A scowl made its way on her face. Kiara was a liar on top of being a traitor.

"I'm so sorry, Kiara," Susan said. Kiara sniffed and Aceline rolled her eyes.

"Is there anything we can do?" Peter asked. The Lone Islander imitated hesistancy.

"You can go to Galma with me," she said.

"I thought you were from the Lone Islands," the Princess. The Pevensies looked at her in surprise (Peter glared at her) and Kiara looked impassive.

"My parents were in Galma when they..." She buried her face in the High King's tunic again.

"We'll all with you to Galma," he said, giving Aceline a pointed look. She raised an eyebrow and turned her back on him. She walked away, her head held high. She heard someone following and she knew by the footsteps that it was Peter. He grabbed her roughly as they turned the corner.

"Get the hell off me!" she snapped, wrenching her arm from his grasp.

"What is wrong with you?" he hissed. "Her parents just died!"

"They did not," she whispered. "She's lying. If her parents would have died, she would be way out of it by now."

"And exactly what do you know about a parent dying?" Peter asked.

"My father died, didn't he?" she said. The High King opened his mouth to apologize, but she placed a finger to his lips.

"Just forget it, Peter," Aceline told him. He nodded slowly, her finger still pressed against his lips. They stood in silence with he staring at her strangely and she with her finger on his lips. The expression on his face made her heart skip a beat. Her hand dropped to her side. The silence became awkward. The High King scratched the back of his head, biting his lip.

"You can stay if you want. I know you don't really like her that much," he said. She nodded gratefully.

"And someone has to guard the castle, right?" she asked.

"Right."


Author's Note: This chapter was ten pages long. WOOT! I'm sorry this took so long (it felt long to me), but the next chapter will be a lot more interesting and exciting. So review if you want more!

OCs Used:
Artymis Wolfe - Dark Wolf Goddess of the moon
Lucylita Temple - Queen Emily the Wise
Alenira Beaux - oceansong
Narissara Justen - bookworm2011