It had been hours since the final dance, and there was still no sign of Lucy.
The remaining royals had summoned the palace guards soon after their youngest sibling had failed to appear, and every available Narnian solider had been roaming the castle and its grounds ever since, looking for any trace of their missing sovereign.
So far, none had been found.
The ball, of course, had quickly deteriorated and (at Peter's insistence) Helen, Susan and the young Archenland royals had been ushered into a secure chamber in the north wing of the Cair. Initially, the distraught mother had attempted to protest, insisting that she too wanted to assist with the search for her daughter- but Peter had prevailed, pointing out that (since the threat was still a mystery and more royal abductions were possible) it would be much safer if they stayed somewhere safe.
Helen had, eventually, resigned herself and now sat in the quiet chamber, her tired eyes starring blankly at the opposite wall.
Lucy…
For a moment, Helen could almost see her long auburn hair…her wide smile and playful blue eyes...
She would have given anything, at that very moment, to hold Lucy safely in her arms…to feel the warmth and love that her daughter so easily radiated…
She'll come back to us.
She has to…
Helen resolutely refused to believe otherwise, and refused to let herself think the worst.
She'll be okay.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Susan sitting tensely in her chair, her hands grasping the armrests so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. The young Queen was not taking her sister's disappearance well, though her reddened eyes no longer seemed capable of shedding tears. Earlier that night, the mother and daughter had cried together, held each other for support and comfort, until both had been too worn to carry on like that any longer. They had, perhaps an hour or more ago, retired to their separate chairs, waiting in anxious silence for any update. Their raw emotions had been overcome with a terrible numbness, and they could now do little more then sit and wait…unmoving, and scarcely making a sound.
Every so often, a solemn messenger would arrive with word from Edmund or Peter, momentarily breaking the tense silence with his bleak news.
"She has not yet been found." The messenger would say sombrely, carefully avoiding Helen and Susan's gazes, before slipping back into the hallway and rushing away. Helen could hardly blame him for his haste; the room was thick with emotion, and it was clear that he felt uncomfortable disturbing the family during such an uneasy time.
Despite her best logic, every time she saw the messenger Helen's heart leapt and she would find herself filled with an overwhelming sense of hope for one glorious moment. But when (as he always did) he delivered the same disappointing report, the world would come crashing back down and the reality of the situation would seem even more painful and heartbreaking then it had before.
It was foolish, she knew, to allow her emotions to get the better of her each time, but she also knew that it could not be helped.
She had to hope…
No matter how much it hurt when those hopes were dashed.
It was her hope that kept her going.
Drawing a shaky breath, the mother turned towards the other three figures in the small room, hoping to distract herself from her darkening thoughts.
King Lune had joined Peter, Edmund and the guards in the search, leaving his young sons and their friend under Susan and Helen's care (as the only other royals in attendance that evening, there was reason to be concerned for their safety as well). She had managed to keep her emotions in check for a few minutes when they had first arrived in the chamber, and (her motherly instincts taking over) had insisted that the teens get some rest on the only bed in the room. Thankfully, the tired bunch (despite their own worries about their missing friend) had not taken long to drift off, and the peaceful expressions on their young faces gave Helen a small degree of comfort.
Cor, Helen noticed with a small smile, had wrapped a protective arm around Aravis, and Corin was leaning peacefully against his twin's shoulder. The steady rise and fall of their chests was calming, and Helen wished that she too was enjoying such a serene sleep- though she knew that would not be possible until Lucy was safe and sound.
"They look so peaceful, don't they?"
The sound of Susan's tired voice snapped Helen out of her daze, and she turned to see that her daughter had also been observing the three.
She was somewhat surprised to hear her speak after such a long silence, but she welcomed the distraction.
"They do." Helen agreed with a nod, her dry throat aching slightly as she spoke. "I do not have much experience with teenagers- and I suppose I never will…but they seem like remarkably good kids." She trailed off, a sad smile flickering across her face as she wondered, for a brief moment, what her own children had been like at that age.
It still pained her to think that that she would never really know.
She had missed so much.
The Queen nodded back, her eyes still locked on the three sleeping forms. After a moment of silence, during which Helen worried that the young woman was retreating into her misery again, she replied.
"Well, Corin can be a bit high spirited at times." Susan mused, her eyes suddenly becoming more distant, as if recalling a memory. "But he always means well. And Cor and Aravis are always good company." She paused again. "The boys are very fond of Peter and Ed. I think they idolize them quite a bit. And Aravis gets along quite well with…."
The gentle Queen stopped abruptly, drawing a sharp breath and leaving her sentence hanging in the air. Helen, of course, knew who she was about to refer to, and could understand her hesitation- she too felt a rush of emotion hit her as her youngest child's name flickered through her mind.
She will come back to us.
She tried to reassure herself again, but noted (with much dismay) that it was becoming harder and harder to calm herself as the minutes dragged by.
Aslan will keep her safe.
She will be okay.
"Cor was kidnapped once, you know."
Susan began to speak again, and Helen's eyes widened at her daughter's words. She had not known, of course, and was a bit surprised by the Queen's sudden proclamation. Turning towards Susan, she noticed that her dark eyes were still locked on the sleeping forms.
Before she could respond, Susan continued.
"When he was very young child, one of King Lune's advisors managed to smuggle him out of the castle." She began quietly. "The King, of course, was quick to pursue him, and a battle was fought to gain the young prince back…but it was already too late. Cor had been sent to Calormen, and grew up under the care of a fisherman."
Another long pause filled the room as the two women drifted into their own thoughts.
Helen never could have guessed, when meeting the happy family that evening, that they had been afflicted by such a tragedy. She hated the thought of the jovial King Lune suffering such a loss, and she could (after the events of the past night) begin to understand how terrible it must have been.
Though, at the very least, she could find solace in the fact that Lucy was a grown woman who was capable of looking after herself- to loose a helpless baby, who had no means to defend himself, was even worse then her own current predicament.
"But then, how is he here now?" Helen asked, unable to stand the silence any longer. She stole a quick glance at Cor, noting how content he now looked with his brother and friend.
"We found him." Susan answered, her gaze still distant and her voice strained. "Or rather, he found us."
Helen could no nothing but stare at her in confusion.
"We were in…Calromen…" The young Queen began hesitantly. "I…I had gone because of Rabadash…I was planning to give him my hand in marriage." Helen noticed a small shiver run through her body; it was apparent that this was still a painful thing for her daughter to discuss, and she was suddenly tempted to envelope her in a comforting hug.
"Corin had gone with us on the journey but, much to our dismay, he wandered off one afternoon- and when Edmund saw Cor on the street he mistook him for his twin and brought him back to our chambers. The boys discovered each other when the real Corin returned, and switched back without us knowing…and, well, to make a long tale short, Cor, upon finding out what Rabadash had planned in retaliation for my rejection, managed to ride to Archenland and warn King Lune of Rabadah's advance. The King soon realized that the boy was, indeed, his lost son and was trilled to be reunited at long last."
The older woman gave a small smile as her daughter spoke; glad that the tale had a happy end, and hoping (for the umpteenth time that night) that she would soon experience the same joy Lune had undoubtedly felt.
"I suppose that some good did come of out trip to Calormen after all." Susan continued, her voice even quieter then before. "Though I cannot help but wonder if today has something to do with…"
The younger woman hesitated again, but Helen was fairly certain she knew what she meant.
She had similar concerns and she decided to voice them.
"You mean, you wondering if today's events have something to do with the Calormenes?" Helen asked cautiously, hoping that this would not upset her daughter further but no longer able to keep her worries to herself.
Her instincts had told that something was off ever since the Calormen envoy had arrived at the banquet, and Lune's tale about Rabadash's brothers seeking revenge had only served to solidify her suspicions. When Lucy had failed to appear for the dance, the first thing that had flashed across her mind had been the hungry look in the head ambassador's eyes and, even in her panicked state, she had managed to turn to Peter and voice her worries. He had nodded sombrely at the suggestion, struggling to keep his face as stoic as possible, and told her that he could not make such accusations publicly until they knew more.
Helen knew that this was a logical approach, but the more irrational part of her brain had wanted to disregard diplomatic protocol and voice her opinion to all who had gathered in the hall. She cared more about finding her daughter then she did about keeping up good relations between the countries, but she had been ushered out of the hall before she had been able to give into temptation.
Susan nodded silently before shutting her eyes for a few moments and drawing another shuddering breath.
"Yes." She answered sounder much younger and more helpless then Helen could remember since their arrival in Narnia. "And I wonder if it is my fault. If the Calormene's have taken…Lucy…" she managed to say her name this time, but could not mask the pain which flashed across her face as she did. "Because of what happened between me and Rabadash…"
Unable to resist her motherly instincts, Helen rose from her spot a took a few steps towards her daughter. She could see the worry in her face, hear the ache in her voice, and could not help but offer what little comfort she could.
"Come now, Susan." She whispered, drawing the young woman into a warm embrace. "Even if it was the Calormenes, it is not your fault. You never could have known that this would happen, and no one blames you for it."
Susan did not respond for several moments, and Helen could feel her warm tears seeping through the shoulder of her dress. She stroked her daughter's dark hair soothingly, feeling, for a moment, as if she was back in Finchley comforting Susan after she had fallen and scraped her knee.
She wished that her pain had such a simple cause…and such a simple solution…
But she knew that, unlike her childhood woes, this was something that a band-aide and a mother's kiss could not heal.
If only they were home, she thought sadly, none of this would have happened.
Narnia may have been full of magic and wonder, but things had been so much easier before. She would trade all of the castles and delights of this strange new world to have her daughter safely returned.
"Mum." The word was muffled, but Helen could hear it clear enough. "I am sorry we did not tell you sooner, but there is more you should know. Rabadash's brothers have been threatening to attack and…"
"I know." The mother cut in, sparing her daughter from another painful explanation. "But it's still not your fault."
She felt Susan nod against her shoulder and silence feel over the room once more. This time, however, some of the tension had dissipated, and the two found comfort in their tight embrace.
They held on.
They shared a few more tears, and a few muttered words of reassurance and worry. Looking back, Helen could not say how long they stayed that way, or even if they had remained fully awake the entire time, but she could recall Peter and Edmund arriving as the sun began to rise in the eastern sky, looking more exhausted and worn then she had ever seen them before.
Again, as the door slowly opened she had felt the surge of hope…but the sight of her sons, and the distraught looks on their faces, had quickly brought her back to the harsh reality.
"Still no sign of her." Peter said, his usually strong voice tired and strained. "We've searched all night. Every guard has been put on duty- we've scoured the land, air and sea…but she is nowhere to be found."
Helen felt the knot in her stomach tighten, though she could not say that she was surprised by the news. Something inside of her had told her that things would not be this easy, and she had a terrible suspicion that it would take more then searching to find her daughter again.
The young men sat down heavily on the two remaining chairs in the room, both rubbing their tired red eyes and drawing deep steadying breaths. Helen was certain that the night had been no easier for them then it had been for her and Susan; all four of them, she knew, would not be able to rest until their fifth member was returned.
Lucy was always so steady.
So warm and full of life.
She had made their family complete, and become a presence that (consciously or not) they had all come to depend on. Helen could not imagine life without her youngest child, and she could hardly remember the time before her bubbling baby girl had been brought home, smiling wider and more often then any newborn she had ever seen.
Helen felt her eyes burning with tears once again as her tired mind drifted back to the day her youngest had been born. Lucy, unlike the others, had come two weeks early- eager, as always, to experience all that life had to offer. Helen had been in the backyard on a sunny afternoon, relaxing as she watched her three children playing happily on the grass, when she had felt the familiar tugging in her abdomen. She had known instantly that it was time, and called immediately for Frank, who excitedly rushed his wife to hospital. Helen could still remember the many smiles they had exchanged that afternoon, between her bouts of pain; both knew that this was the moment they had been waiting for, the day that would finally make things complete, and both were thrilled when their beautiful baby girl had been bundled up and placed in Helen's waiting arms.
Though the doctor had assured them that it was impossible at only a few hours old, she and Frank had both been certain that they had seen a tiny smile flicker across her peaceful face, and they had beamed back down at her, full of such indescribable pleasure and joy.
For a moment, at least, things had seemed perfect, and she yearned to have such a sense fill her again.
Though, she could not help but wonder as she sat in the quiet chamber a world away from her hospital room in Finchley, if her best days were now behind her.
She had no idea if she would see her husband again.
No idea if she would see Lucy again.
The only certainty at that moment was that she would not feel true happiness unless they were all reunited once more…
It was almost unbearable.
"I want to go home."
Her sudden statement broke the silence in the room, and directed her children's attention towards her. She had not meant to say that out loud, she realized as she shifted uncomfortably under their gazes, though she could not deny the truth in her words.
For a moment, they simply stared- scrutinizing her, and unsure how to respond.
Finally, Edmund spoke, and it was apparent that (in his fatigue) he had not quite understood the meaning of her statement. "We are home." He replied, a hint of confusion in his tired brown eyes as he absently rubbed his rough chin.
Peter nodded, clearly agreeing, but Susan remained silent and unmoving.
Perhaps she understood better then the others, Helen mused.
Perhaps she even felt that same way…
"No." The mother stated quietly, looking at each of her sons. "I mean our real home. In England. In Finchley."
The two young men exchanged a look which Helen could not quite read, and she frowned slightly, feeling as if she was missing something.
"This would never have happened if we had not left." She continued, her words suddenly filled with more force and conviction then they had been all night. "If we were back in England, Lucy would be safe- we would be together." She paused, trying to ignore the lump building in her throat. "And your father would be able to return to us. We'd be a family again…"
She trailed off, fearing that she would loose control of her emotions if she went further.
As it was, Helen could feel a combination of grief, fear, and anger welling inside of her, and it took much of her willpower to keep her impulses maintained.
Part of her wanted to scream in frustration, and demand that they find Lucy and return to the safety of England as soon as possible…she wanted her sons to agree that England was were they belonged, and it filled her with such sadness to know that they would never share her sentiments on this matter.
Narnia had claimed her children…taken their childhoods from her…broken her family apart…
Despite all that she had learned, and all the beauties she had experienced in this strange land, at the current moment she wanted nothing more then to turn back and forget it all.
She wanted things to be simple again.
She wanted her children to be children once more, she wanted to hold Lucy safely in her arms, and she wanted to feel her husband's love and support.
"Mum, we want to find Lucy just as much as you do." Peter said gently. "And we wish dad could be here too."
She nodded curtly, having no doubt that he spoke the truth. She knew, of course, that Peter loved his family deeply.
"But," Her oldest child continued, his blue eyes locked on her brown ones. "This is our home now and, although we know you have not had time to form the attachments we have, you have to understand that this is where we belong, and we hope that one day you will feel the same way. Lucy would not want…"
"We do not belong here, Peter." She cut him off in mid-sentence, her voice full of more anger then before.
She wasn't sure why- perhaps it was her fatigue, her fears about Lucy, or her weeks of pent up emotion- but she had had enough. She did not want to hear him speak about how this life had replaced their old one- how they now cared more for this place then they ever had for their first home…the one she still cherished so deeply.
She knew it was true- she knew they had felt out of place in England and had been thrilled to return to this kingdom- but at that moment, she did not want believe it.
She wanted to hold onto what they had once had.
And she wished that they did too.
"Mum, please listen…" It was Edmund who spoke this time, and Helen could not hold back a surge of anger at the sound of his patronizing tone.
"Do not speak to me as if I was a child." The mother snapped, standing up abruptly from her chair and taking a few steps towards her youngest son. "I am your mother, and I am the adult here."
Much to her frustration, he exchanged another knowing glance with Peter, looking as if he was a parent trying to deal with a troublesome child, before speaking again.
"Mum, we're all adults now." He pointed out calmly, with a nod towards his brother and sister. "And I did not want to upset you, but you need…"
Helen could not bear to hear any more.
"You should be eleven, Edmund!" She cut him off again, starring down at him, her eyes flashing with desperation, anger and fear.
It was one of the first times since their arrival, she realized, that she had been able to tower over him (for as an adult he was several inches taller then her)- though she knew it was only because he had remained sitting. The moment he rose from his spot he would be the one looking down at her, and she would be the one feeling small and unsure.
She would be the one feeling like a child.
"I'm not eleven anymore."
His response was calm and simple, but it filled her with a fresh wave of pain.
She knew, of course, that it was true- she had known it since they had come to Narnia and there could be no denying it as she looked upon the fully grown young man before her.
But it did not make things any easier.
It did not make her loss any less agonizing.
"I know you're not." Her tone was softer this time, and she noted that her moment of rage seemed to be fading.
The burning anger that had been surging within her began to ebb as she starred down at her son; she could not remain angry, she realized, when she could see such worry and pain in his tired eyes.
He wanted Lucy back, they all did, and letting her emotions get the better of her would achieve little.
"But you should be." She finished quietly, her eyes full of regret as she reached out and placed a hand on her dark haired son's cheek. It was rough, she noted. His stubble brushed against her smooth skin and her heart sank once more as was forced to acknowledge the truth in his words.
He was not eleven anymore.
"I'm sorry." Edmund's apology surprised her, and a sad smile slowly formed on her lips.
"It's not your fault, darling." Helen whispered, suddenly more aware of the dry burning in her throat. "You couldn't stop yourself from growing up." She paused, taking a step back and glancing towards her two eldest children.
They had been sitting quietly, watching the exchange, and not knowing quite what to say. Peter was biting his lip, she noticed (it was an old nervous habit of his), and Susan was once again gripping her chair tightly and drawing sharp, but quiet, breaths.
"Things are just so much more complicated here- so strange-and now this…" She hesitated, closing her eyes for a moment as her youngest daughter's face flashed through her mind once more. "I can't help but wish that we could return to a time when things were simpler. I miss how things were in England, before the war, and before this…"
Peter nodded as she spoke and, a moment later, rose from his seat and took two long strides towards her.
"I understand." He said quietly, drawing her into a tight hug.
Soon after, she felt Edmund and Susan join the embrace, and she allowed herself to revel in the warmth and comfort for several blissful seconds.
Perhaps there are joys to be found here after all, she thought with another small smile, though the knowledge that some were missing from this moment made it bittersweet.
All too soon, they drew apart and the four Pevensie's returned to their seats; still exhausted, still worried, but more content then that had been a few minutes before.
After another moment of silence, Susan spoke, snapping all of their attentions back to their troublesome reality.
"Are there any leads?" She asked, looking at her brothers expectantly. "Did you find any evidence? Anything that may help us find her?"
The young men looked down at the stone floor, and Helen instantly knew that they had little comfort to offer.
"Not really." Edmund confessed. "The search is still going on, and we have our people scouring the land, air, and sea- but so far, there have been few leads."
"We've also asked as many people as we can if they saw Lucy that evening. Mr. Tumnus has informed us that she did take a walk out in the gardens about a half hour before our dance." He paused, running a hand through his dark blonde hair. "The poor faun is beside himself with guilt; apparently, she asked if he wanted to accompany her outside but he, having just participated in several dances, choose to remain sitting in the great hall instead. We've told him it is not his fault, of course, but he does care for Lucy deeply, and feels horrid no matter what we say."
Helen nodded, saddened to think that the friendly faun (who had shown himself to be a good and loyal friend) was in such a state. Many Narnians cared greatly for her youngest daughter, and she knew that she and her children were not the only ones filled with worry after the disappearance.
There was another pause before Susan began again.
"She would never leave like this on her own." The young Queen stated.
"No, she wouldn't." Peter agreed sombrely.
"I think we can be fairly certain that this was not a wilful departure." Edmund confirmed with a deep sigh. "Though it is more difficult to say who did this, and why."
Furrowing her brow slightly, Helen cut in. "Do you not think that we have ample reason to suspect the Calormenes?" She asked, feeling as if she was stating the obvious and wondering what her son's had not addressed this possibility already. "As King Lune has informed me, Rabadash's brothers have become increasingly hostile, and the envoy did not seem to have our goodwill in mind. Have those men been seen?"
"Surprisingly," Peter began, with a sigh that echoed his brothers. "They are still in the castle. They were, of course, the first suspects that came to mind, but we managed to find them quiet easily. They may not be a pleasant bunch, but they are not with Lucy. Nevertheless, we have given a few of our guards a secret order to keep an eye on them for the duration of their stay, to be safe."
Helen's stomach twisted uncomfortably as he spoke, and her uncertainty quickly increased.
Not the Calormenes?
They had seemed to be the likely culprits, and she had nearly convinced herself that the envoy had something to do with Lucy's disappearance. They had looked at her with such disgusting desire- she had been certain that they, of all the guests, would have been the ones responsible.
But if they had not disappeared along with Lucy, then it could not have possibly been them.
At least, she didn't think so…
"Who could it be then?" Helen asked, her eyes wide with worry. "Who else would have the motivation to do such a thing?"
The boys exchanged a glance, and Peter replied. "That's the problem." He began. "We can't be sure. There are other possibilities- others who wish us ill. The giants have never been our greatest allies, and I was forced to lead a campaign against them during our final year here. I thought that business was behind us, but perhaps they want their revenge. It could have something to do with Rabadash's brothers or, though we have done our best to subdue them, there are still a few lingering followers of the White Witch lurking in our lands who could be to blame." He paused for a moment, and Helen could see Edmund stiffen beside him, his knuckles tightly clenched. "There are those who wish to see us deposed, and some who may be angry about our unexpected return."
The mother sank further back into her chair, trying not to let her growing sense of hopelessness overcome her.
Peter was right. If it wasn't the envoy, the only ones who had seemed hostile towards them that night, then there were no good leads.
There was no simple answer.
And, if possible, Lucy now seemed even further away then she had before.
"We tried our best- and we will continue to do so until she is found." Edmund said firmly, trying (unsuccessfully) to mask the anxiety in his voice. "We will get her back."
Helen nodded; her fatigue and fear making her feel more hazy and overwhelmed by the minute. "I know."
More silence followed, and none of the awake inhabitants of the room said anything for what seemed like a very long time. They started ahead, hardly aware of their surroundings, and teetering on the edge of consciousness.
They were tired.
Worried.
Afraid.
And all four wanted nothing more then to see their youngest member; home, happy and safe.
As the sun began to filter into the small chamber's window, seeming much too bright for a sad day such as this, a familiar tap at the door snapped the distressed group out of their mutual daze.
Helen recongnized the four distinct taps instantly, and she knew (even before Peter opened the door) that it was the same messenger faun that had visted them with updates throughout the night.
Peter greeted him with all of the warth he could muster (which, atmiddetly, was not much, considering the situation) and the faun gave a low bow before scuttling into the room.
She could not help but notice that his demeanour had changed since she had last seen him, and his subdued manner was now replaced with anxiety and confusion.
"My good faun." Edmund said, turning to face the new arrival. "Do you have news for us?"
"Indeed." He replied, with another bow towards the younger King. "I have been sent to inform you that the Calormene envoy has arrived. They await your greeting in the entrance chamber."
As soon as the messenger finished, Peter and Edmund dashed into the hallway without a word, running with a surprising amount of energy for men who had not had a wink of sleep that night. Susan gave a small gasp and quickly began to follow after them, taking a second to glance back at her mother and gesturing for her to come, before exiting the room completely.
Confused, Helen numbly followed, her feet moving much quicker then she would have expected.
The Calormene Envoy had just arrived?
It was impossible…they had met the envoy last night…
Unless…
She rounded the corner into the entrance chamber to see her three children standing in front of four men who were surrounded by several Narnian guards.
As Helen arrived, one of the men took a step forward, presenting Peter with a sealed document and giving him a deep bow.
"High King." The man began, looking up to face the monarch. "The Tisroc (may he live forever) sends his greetings and wishes you to know that he will do what he can to maintain peace between our two countries."
Peter said nothing, and simply starred down at the document in his hand, his blue eyes wide.
Misinterpreting his surprise, the Calromene continued. "We apologize, High King, for our late arrival. It was our intent to attend the ball last evening, but we awoke two days ago to find our carriage destroyed and our horses freed, thus it took us longer then expected to finish our journey. We do hope you will bear us no ill will."
Again, Peter did not respond, and continued to look down at the parchment the man had passed him. "This is the Tisroc's official seal." He muttered, turning towards his siblings and ignoring the worried ambassadors.
"Of course, High King." Another member of the envoy cut in hesitantly. "We come directly on the Tisroc's (may he live forever) orders."
"But," It was Susan that spoke this time, and Helen could hear the apprehension in her voice. "We already received the Calormene envoy last night. They attended the ball, and have been given a room in our north wing."
The four men exchanged a series of confused glances.
"With all due respect, that is impossible, my lady." The shortest one stated with a bow. "We are the official delegation. There are no others."
After taking a glance at the parchment for himself Edmund, always the quickest and most logical of the siblings, turned towards the guards, his face set with a steely determination.
"Get to the north chamber at once." He commanded firmly. "Find the other Calormenes and bring them to the great hall for questioning immediately. Be sure to confiscate their weapons, and do not let them out of your sight."
The guards he had been addressing nodded, and quickly dashed from the room, leaving the stunned royal family, a confused group of foreign diplomats, a few perplexed guards in their wake.
Helen remained rooted in her spot, unable to move and scarcely able to breathe.
Several questions raced through her mind as she tried to comprehend what she had just witnessed.
If this was the delegation, then who were the other men?
Why had they claimed to be the Tisroc's representatives when, apparently, they were not?
And, most importantly, what did all of this have to do with Lucy's disappearance?
Helen, in her tired and distressed state, could not even begin to make sense of it all…and she could only hope that getting to the bottom of this strange turn of events would bring them one step closer to finding her daughter.
In her mind, that was all that really mattered.
She wanted Lucy home, and she would do anything to get her back.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A/N: Wow. That took a very long time (I wrote in three separate sittings- usually I do it all at once). It was difficult to write, I kept changing it, and I am still not fully satisfied…but there you have it. I decided that I needed to get through it, and get on with the story, so it is posted. Let me know what you think!
I found it very hard to write Helen in this chapter- I didn't want to make her completely break down (because I needed her to be able to describe what was going on, and didn't want to bore people with a long sobbing chapter)- but I also hope I didn't make her seem too selfish/not focused on Lucy. In my mind, Lucy is her main concern, though other anxieties/fears that she has developed are also being brought to the surface by this traumatic event. I wanted her to talk about going home, and hope that bit wasn't out of character. I feel like, at that point, she would have seen England as a better, safer, option. Her children may love Narnia, but she has not been there long and I feel that it is realistic to make her regret their journey there if it means never seeing Lucy again. But perhaps I have now messed things up and made her un-likable.
Sorry for the delay this time! Life had been busy, and inspiration has been lacking.
Please REVIEW and keep me motivated.
Cheers!
