Author's Note: This is the final vignette of the series. I'm halfway through an AU sequel that will see Edmund, Lucy and Eustace travelling back with the Dawn Treader to Narnia; as well as Drinian's story! Huge thanks to those who've taken the trouble to review, especially Almyra and Asphalt Angel.

"Blooming lilies, Your Majesty!"

Rynelf, the Last Sea

The gradual accumulation of floral debris did nothing to slow the Dawn Treader's progress, a fact Edmund noted with some nervousness. "Might it not be time to pull us out of this awful current?" he asked.

"And set the men to the oars with, perhaps, another hundred leagues of sailing before us?" Drinian's voice floated irritably up from the boat towing astern, where he was supervising the untangling of the rudder from pristine petal and thick, shiny leaf for the tenth time in five days. "The Star told us his was the last land we should encounter; I should sooner have had precise information of the sea's conditions!"

"I doubt the Star knows what a mariner might deem important, my Lord," said Caspian, leaning over the aft rail to watch them hefting armfuls of shredded leaf clear of the hull.

"Gettin' worse the deeper into this mess we go, Sire." Hofian held the boat steady while Drinian led the climb back aboard, the job done. "An' the smell o' these things, too! Permission to take lookout duty back aboard, Cap'n?""

"Granted, Hofian; and thank you, men." Drinian wiped his hands against the front of his worn leather jerkin. "A sounding every tenth minute, remember; and report the moment you feel bottom at fifty fathoms."

"Aye, Sir." Hofian's pale grey eyes brightened as he scrambled aboard, and Peridan began the sweaty business of hauling in the boat. Drinian nodded a dismissal before shepherding his passengers aft, toward the poop and his turn on watch.

"Cap'n, Sir." Rhince loomed up beside the mainmast, jaw stuck out and eyes cast down. Drinian groaned.

"Very well, Master Mate, tell me the worst," he instructed, flicking a glance to Caspian that plainly said, leave this to me, Sire. "Has the galley master mutinied for want of activity, now we've this water to sustain us? Is the Boson at odds with the Bowman?"

"'S the men, Sir." Rhince was not intended to be a whisperer, Edmund thought, leaning back against the starboard rail. "They're a mite worried, see."

"That we are in uncharted seas, unable to judge the depth o' water before us, approaching the World's Edge without notion of what we might find there, and that infernal Mouse twittering his interminable ditty at the prow," Drinian recited, not noticeably disheartened by his deputy's sombre report. "Why the troubled look, Rhince? Are you not a touch alarmed yourself?"

"Aye, Sir." It had often seemed to Eustace the Captain delighted in disconcerting his sturdy deputy. "An' I dun't know what to tell 'em, Sir, when they grumble to me."

"No more should I," Drinian agreed. "Though it might ease their anxieties to know, the instant our leadsman feels the seabed at less than fifty, we'll draw out of this blessed current and coast under what little breeze might spring up, for so long as it takes. His Majesty made a vow to seek the End of the World: I made one no less solemn to turn this ship westward when he had done so."

"Aye, Sir, but the men are frettin'; tales o' great seas washin' over the Edge, an' endless falls into Aslan's Country…."

"As I might have said before, Your Majesties," said Drinian solemnly, "drat that Mouse!"

"I shall speak with Sir Reepicheep, Rhince." Caspian bit his bottom lip so hard he could taste blood; Eustace was openly grinning, and Edmund didn't dare meet the eye of either sailor. "Should we hear yet again of the fires said to burn perpetually around the world's rim…"

"'E's not so fond o' that tale, Your Majesty," Rhince confided tiredly. "'S stories o' fallin' forever the bla – blessed nuisance likes best."

"The Star did say," Lucy put in, voice only wavering a fraction to betray her amusement, "that we had to sail as far east as our ship would take us, and then leave one of our number behind. Surely that means the sea level drops too much for a galleon to reach the very end of the world."

"That's true." Edmund grinned as Eustace slapped the startled girl hard on the back. "God old Lu, spotting what we'd all missed. We can't go over the edge, Rhince; tell the men that."

"And tell the Mouse, too," Drinian growled, sending a glare the length of the ship. "I knew morale had fallen, Your Majesties; not to be wondered at, given our position, but still… I'll have that creature in irons yet!"

Rhince hastened back to his duties, and the passengers followed Drinian to his, all of them feeling lighter about the heart with Lucy's realisation to cheer them. "Never considered it myself," said Caspian, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb Rynelf at the helm. Lucy giggled.

"Neither had I, until that moment; I'm still not sure I was right to say it."

"Of course you were!"

"Aye, King Edmund, aught that quells alarm below decks is best said, whether it be true or no." Drinian tipped back his head, drinking in the faint breeze that ruffled their hair. "For my part, I shall be happy if these infernal lilies would thin out, or better still, fade away! How's a sailor to judge the depth of water through this mess, eh?"

"We've not even got a name on the chart for this place, yet," Lucy realised. Every new discovery had been recorded on the magician's map, which Drinian kept rolled in his cabin for safety. "It's got to have a name."

Drinian could have offered a choice selection, but in the presence of a lady he kept them to himself. "Lily Lake," said Caspian.

"That didn't just trip off the tongue, did it?" Edmund challenged. The King blinked.

"What? I confess, I had given the matter some thought, King Edmund."

"But it's not a lake," argued Eustace, who could not shake off pedantry as well as he had surliness. "One can see the other side of a lake; it's got a shore, and reeds, and things. This is a sea!"

"Or an ocean!" Lucy countered.

"We can't really be sure they're actually lilies, either," added Edmund. "Oh, I don't know what else to call them, or this. Mother's always said I've no imagination."

"Flower Patch?"

"More than a patch, Eustace; five days without sign of clear water!"

"Silver Sea?"

"That I like," Caspian decided. "With the sunlight upon them - who in Narnia would imagine the sun might be so bright? - the petals strike the eye as silver more than white. Aye, Silver Sea; unless another can conceive of a better, such shall be this place's name!"

"A fine name, Sire!" Reepicheep pattered up the poop ladder. "Silver Scented Sea might, perhaps, be deemed more accurate."

"And too much, Reep! No sign of it ending?"

"Nor sign of Aslan's Country, King Edmund." Briefly the Mouse appeared downcast. "Though I do not despair. How ever many leagues separate us from that blessed place, we shall traverse them."

"Ah." Caspian coughed, uncomfortably aware of Lucy's fidget and the narrowed dark eyes of Drinian upon him. "Be so good as to remember, Sir Reepicheep, others have their thoughts fixed upon another land, perhaps farther away than your goal. Not every Narnian here present is so eager to greet the Lion in his own land."

Reepicheep's whiskers twirled. "What higher honour could be sought, Sire?"

"The wives, families and sweethearts of our shipmates might dispute that question," Caspian reminded him, both hands raised.

"In some cases, all three parties might," Drinian murmured. Edmund's brows shot up.

"Do tell, Captain!"

"Don't be such a gossip, Ed!" chided Lucy automatically. Reepicheep gave one of his flourishing bows.

"Never did it occur to me, Your Majesty, that discussion of my heart's desire might cause distress to my shipmates. I had thought every true Narnian must be safe in the knowledge of the Great Lion's good grace to protect him."

"I've no doubt the men all feel that, Reep, but don't chat on so about endless waterfalls in front of them, there's a good fellow." Caspian, feeling himself lectured by a subject, was incapable of response, allowing Edmund to intervene smoothly. "And they'd feel a good deal better if we weren't in the middle of these heavenly smelling flowers!"

"I take them as a carpet, where no feet before ours have trod." The Mouse was getting poetic, and Lucy knew when he did that, Reepicheep also got loud. "Guiding the faithful traveller to his rest at Aslan's paw."

"It may well be so," agreed Caspian placatingly. "But we have many a traveller, no less faithful, that longs to rest his foot before his own Narnian hearth. As a kindness to our harassed Captain, pray moderate your excitement at a nearer goal in the presence of his crew."

"Your Lordship may depend upon my discretion." It was to Drinian's credit, Eustace thought, he maintained a steady countenance at the declaration.

"Excellent!" Caspian compensated for want of conviction with excess of enthusiasm, and visibly recoiled from it. "Now, what say you to a game of chess? Queen Lucy has beaten you once this week; grant your King the chance to equal her noble achievement!"

The next day, Drinian ordered the Dawn Treader pulled out of the rapid band of easterly current. "Seabed's rising sharply, Sire," he informed Caspian, encountering the gentleman at the hatchway. "We've twenty fathoms less beneath our keel in an hour's sailing. At this rate, we cannot go beyond nightfall."

"We are in your hands, Captain." Caspian looked solemn, his gaze sliding over Drinian's shoulder and on toward the eastern horizon. "To break the enchantment which holds our compatriots, we must continue as far as we safely may."

"And that we'll do, Sire. Rynelf and Peridan will take turns at lookout; soundings every second minute. Should the seabed approach as near as ten fathoms, I must recommend that we anchor before darkness."

"Your advice will be followed, in whatever circumstance," Caspian promised, breaking into a smile at the minimal relaxing of his companion's stance. "Come, my Lord! Do you think your sovereign so great a fool as to disregard a professional opinion in these affairs?

"I'll make no answer there, if it please Your Majesty." Drinian let his voice carry to the nearest group of men, hard at work polishing the main deck with water and friable sandstone blocks until the planking shone. Somebody sniggered, and the two friends shared a smile.

"Inform us regularly of what's to be done." The King turned away first, keeping his eye on the point before them where sky and ocean met. "Lucy! Eustace, Edmund! Do you hear? Drinian doubts we can continue much farther."

"Reep's putting another coat of wax onto the coracle already." Eustace knocked back his morning cup of water as if he were a hardened tar with his tot. "Gosh, the sun's got bigger again! Are you taking the helm, Drinian?"

"Aye: would I trust one of these contemptible lubbers with my lady in dangerous seas?" Though he smiled, and they laughed, Drinian was anxious. "We've fifteen fathoms beneath us at the last sounding; the Dawn Treader draws two. Nay, Eustace, there's no immediate cause for alarm, though I should be happier had we charts of the odd rocks and sandbars in these seas."

"When we find 'em, we'll put them on the magician's map for you," Edmund promised. "Golly, it's so hot! Who's for a lounge on the fo'c'sle?"

The children reclined in the bows throughout the day, as the water grew steadily shallower and the faces of the crew became more tense. More than once they felt the ship lurch suddenly to one or other side, deftly manipulated by her captain's hand onto a safer easterly heading, but it was plain before Rhince summoned them, the galleon could go no further.

"Anchors fore and aft!" Drinian hollered, spinning the wheel between his hands, drawing the ship to rest with her side to the horizon. "Ugrian! Bring up the coracle! We can take you no further, Reep."

"Grateful am I, my Lord, for the skills that have carried me thus far." The sea floor looked terrifyingly close as Edmund leaned over the side. "Your Majesties all, I take my leave. Aslan send a helpful wind to carry you safe back, friends, to Narnia."

And it was then that Caspian's voice cut through the murmur of appreciative good wishes from the crew. "Lower the boat! Gather the men! I must speak to them!"