Chapter 15
The Rescue

Time passed quickly, or so it seemed, in Narnia. Summer finally ended and with it brought of what would be the first of Susan's many suitors. He was from the Lone Islands and had originally come to join the budding Narnian navy however he saw Susan and changed his plans. Peter thought him harmless enough and was fine to watch his failed attempts to court his sister (she was flattered, but unsure how to act and often hid from the poor man) until he spied him trying to force himself upon her personage. Nothing serious, just a trying to get a kiss out of the Gentle Queen who had looked to her big brother for help and the man quickly found himself on the ground, nose broken and Rhindon at his throat. The man was commanded to leave the castle immediately and never to set foot near Cair Paravel again. He boarded the next boat home.

Peter had learned a few lessons from that first suitor. One was that he would have someone always keep an eye on anyone who decided to court his sisters. Second was to have Susan's approval of the man. Did not do well to have anyone unwanted pursuing her. And lastly, as this what apparently the most grievous to Mrs. Beaver, was that anyone wanting to court his sisters need to ask for Peter's permission first. It was odd for Peter to have anyone ask his permission to see Susan as he felt that was something his father would do. Being that his father was no there, he was reminded, it was his duty as her elder brother to fill that role. It was not something he looked forward to.

Edmund (and he thanked Aslan for it) was left out that little drama. It was found that most of his time was spent with the guard, much to his valet's vexation, and had been surprised to find Mark down there as well. They had not formally been introduced on that day after the Incident (as they began to refer to Sarah's accident) and as two budding swordsmen they quickly bonded over the blade and were frequent sparring partners. Edmund however found it annoying that Lucy would come to the training grounds and steal away his sparing partner for some silly girl reason. With Susan beginning to get suitors he felt he understood women even less now.

Lucy had actually been the first to discover Mark among the guards as one of first novice posts he held was to patrol the castle grounds and told him to meet her in the kitchens when he was relieved from duty. There, like their first meeting, the staff fed them and Lucy told him of all the new things she was learning from her tutors and the wonderful dances the nymphs and dryads taught her.

Mark enjoyed her bright company and would look forward to on particularly grueling days. His training as a guard seemed normal enough under the tutelage of the battle proved Faun Hellman. He thought that his fellow comrades were being trained individually. A young Centaur told him otherwise. Mark never inquired as to why he was the only treated as such and neither Dolmadus nor Hellman cared to impart such knowledge on him. So he trained, did his rounds, and learned all manner of weapons to use though his most extensive teachings were on the sword, as it appeared he seemed to have a natural gift for it.

Sarah meanwhile was given a crash course in Narnian and Telmarine court manners. The professor said she could learn of the Archenland court once they were actually in Archenland and for that she was extremely grateful. Ulley had no problem giving her instruction on Narnian manners and dance but he had never actually been to Telmar and after a letter to a colleague at his university found that a family of Telmarines had recently settled in the village that surrounded Cair Paravel and opened up a leatherwork shop. In the family was an old auntie who had been a nurse to Telmarine lady.

Ulley asked for her services on teaching his half-Telmarine daughter of her heritage to which she agreed. Upon meeting Sarah (who proudly wore her trousers) the woman declared the girl was indeed half-Telmarine for no self-respecting full-blooded Telmarine woman would prance around like a stable boy. For her part Sarah's smile had only grown larger, though the old woman quickly saw that was taken care of with a quick swat across her bottom.

Zoran and Jensen sensibly stayed out of the way when Auntie Larra (as she asked to be referred to) was around.

As said before, summer ended and with it came the color changes of the leaves, cool winds and smatterings of rain. Peter would visit but found his time with Sarah was being chaperoned by Auntie Larra. The old woman would give him looks and make him feel rather uncomfortable.

On one such occasion Sarah slipped him a letter to him as they bid farewell and when he read of her plight of her new situation (he also chuckled when he read of her fears of being turned into a lady) it in his chambers and that night he devised a plan to rescue her. At least for a day.

He had arrived mid-day on horse back and had taken food from the kitchen as well as blanket from a linen closet and taken a few things from Edmund's closet for Sarah to wear (Edmund was now taller than Sarah and his clothes would fit the girl better than Peter's), as Auntie Larra had hidden Sarah's shirts and trousers, along with a few other supplier that he hid in the saddlebags of his horse. Peter had told his siblings of his plans to spend the day at Professor Ulley's at the breakfast table. Edmund had rolled his eyes and Susan, who on her own had figured out why her brother spent so much time down there, just smiled and said that was fine. Lucy had not really heard him as she was already planning her day with Mr. Tumnus in her head.

He was dressed in simple clothing, his tunic was a gray blue and his trousers were a brown but had extra protection for when he rode his horse. As always his sword was secured at his hip and out of habit his hand rested on its pommel when he knocked on the door. His body language conveyed that of a relaxed teenage boy, while his blue eyes said nothing of the sort, instead they looked like a soldier's making ready for an escape plan.

Auntie Larra answered the door. Peter smiled at her sweetly, this epitome of courtly manners. "What do you want?" she said roughly.

"I was wondering if Professor Ulley was in," Peter said, still smiling.

"No," the old woman said shortly. Peter had never been sure how he offended the woman. It would not be till a few years later that he would learn the exact offense.

"Then may I have a word with his daughter," he asked and before she could deny him that he added. "I promise, just one single solitary word, my lady." He inclined his head toward her. Never in sixteen years had he worked so hard to see a friend.

"Just a word," she drawled and turned around, closing the door.

He feared she had tricked him until Sarah opened the door. While he had admired her in men style clothes, he appreciated her figure in a dress. She wore nothing fancy, it would have been impractical to say the least, but the fabric (whatever it was) was of good quality and draped over her beautifully and caressed her curves in all the right places. She cleared her throat and Peter felt heat reach his cheeks.

"Hello, Sir Peter." The smile that was on her lips did not reach her eyes and he suddenly did not think it was funny that Sarah dreaded being trained in the ways of a proper lady. Her words were formal. She had never addressed him as Sir Peter (since she thought he was a lord of Archenland's son) and the words fell empty. Be damned with propriety, he want the Sarah he knew back!

Peter returned her smile, looked around her and saw the old woman sitting on a chair that had a clear view of the door. Blue eyes locking with dark brown he smiled again. He had promised Larra just one word, one single solitary word with Sarah.

"Run!" he said, grabbing her arm and running to the horse. The High King thanked Aslan that Ulley had hired an old woman to tutor Sarah and not someone younger.

Sarah was shocked at first, not really running as fast as Peter. "What are you doing?" she asked, looking at Auntie Larra behind her as the woman made to give chase. Her face was red with rage and she was shaking her fist at them.

"I am rescuing the damsel in distressed," Peter explained as he quickly mounted his horse and held out his hand to her. "Isn't that what knights are supposed to do?"

Sarah smirked at him and took his offered hand and took a seat behind him, hands placed on his shoulders. "Since when did you become a knight?" He did not get to answer as a beet hit the back of his head.

Larra had found a basket of vegetables and was throwing it at them. "You get back here at this moment, Lady Sarah! I will not have you run off with this brute!" She dropped her basket and put her hands on her hip. "I will tell your father!" she said the threat as if that would get Sarah stop.

Peter did not give Sarah the chance to even consider the woman's words as he urged the horse to gallop away. Her threats could be heard through out all of Narnia as they sped away. They did not look behind them once.

Sarah's hands on his shoulders clenched when they went under a low branch during their flight and then they slid down his back and he felt her arms come around his waist, her head on the back of his shoulder. He stole a glance and saw that she had her eyes squeezed tightly and any time his steed would jump over a root or a small rock, and in one case a Squirrel, her arms tightened around him.

It was only when they stopped their break neck speed that Sarah finally opened her eyes. She was not sure where Peter had taken them. She had never been far from the cottage, including that day when she had met Peter and they had taken that aimless walk. The beach was the farthest, now that she thought about it, that she had been from home and look how that trip turned out.

"Are you well?" Peter asked guiding the horse to a shaded tree. He looked back and felt his stomach clinch. The sun was filtered through the tree and a beam splashed right across her eyes. He saw that her eyes around the edges, following the curve of her iris, were thin lines of topaz and that her eyes were not as dark as he had initially thought, a color closer to black than brown, but found that they were just a deep, dazzling mahogany shade. He couldn't think of a color he like more.

"Well enough," she said and laughed. He could feel her mirth through his back and when she was done her arms slid away from his waist and she grabbed the side of the saddle. "Where are we, oh great knight?"

Peter sighed finding that he missed the weight around his middle. To hide the disappointment he dismounted and put on a smile. "We are far from the dragon and savoring your grand escape." He offered his hand to her and she took it and dismounted a little awkwardly from the horse. Probably trying not to show her under things, he thought.

She playfully swatted his arm. "Behave, Peter. She's just doing her job."

"Which is what," a dark blond eyebrow arched, "to keep you miserable all day long? To make you wear dresses, which you protested so much that when we met you were actually making arrangements to have Wynn not make them."

Her dark eyes were cast to the side, focused on the ground right next to his foot. "I'm not miserable, really." She looked up and caught his look for a moment before looking up at the tree they stood under. "And the dresses aren't that bad I suppose. Just take some getting used to. No, I'm fine." Now she did look him in the face and he knew she wasn't being completely honest.

"You don't seem so," he confessed. "Even though our time is chaperoned now, I can tell you're not all yourself."

Sighing she sat not caring that it was mostly dirt and not grass that she was in. "It has nothing to do with Auntie Larra, or the dragon if you want to call her. She can be quite horrible sometimes." She paused and sat in front of her and he waited for her to continue. "It's me."

"You?"

"I am who I pretend to be," she admitted. "I am not even from here."

"I don't think your pretending," he said trying to reassure her. He was going to join her on the ground but she stood back up, "and I know you're not from here. You're from Telmar."

"No, not Telmarine," she said. He was confused. Was she denying her heritage now? Sarah made her way to the long grass and found another seat. She titled her head to the sun, her arms braced behind her. Peter sat next to her and studied her for a moment.

He saw the reason why tales were told of sun gods falling for maidens from the land below them. The sun washed over her face and brought out the red highlights that he had just moments before seen in her eyes. The sun would tan her skin further and he knew hours from now her cheeks would have a slight pink tinge to them, but not from blushing, and her skin would appear slightly darker. Peter felt drawn to her, felt the need to be around her and was not completely sure why. She was his friend, nothing more. Right?

"Pray tell, where are you from then?" he asked, looking away from her quickly feeling his own cheeks turn slightly pink, but it had nothing to do with the sun.

"I'm from a place where women regularly wear pants. There are no kings or queens in my country and most other nations don' have them either. We don't use horses for regular transportation and candles are only used for decorations." Turning her head slightly to him she smiled. "I'm from California."

That name sounded familiar to Peter. Why did it sound familiar to him? "Where's that?" he asked.

"Not anywhere in this world," she replied smiling. "I didn't even know this world existed until I was in a crash and somehow that brought me face to face with a Talking Fox."

"Really?" he asked. She wasn't from Narnia either? She was from another world, this California (he still could not place where he heard it!) and he was from England, Earth. "I have something that I must confess too," he replied. "I am from a place called Finchley and you will not find it in Archenland, or anywhere else here."

Sarah looked him straight in the eyes. "Seriously? You're not from here?" She looked like she could not decided on whether she wanted to laugh or cry.

"No and now we know each other secret." He put his hand over hers in the grass. "And despite the fact that you come from some other world I will be your friend."

She laughed and the joy on her face made her eyes crinkle just so the sunlight put a little twinkle in them. "And since you come from some other world I will be your friend, I suppose." She removed her hand from under his, and he felt sad for her to do so, to straighten out the skirt of her dress.

"So, Peter of Finchley, what do you have planned today being as you were the one who rescued me and all."

He shrugged, "Nothing really." He lay back on the grass, his hands clasped behind his head. "I just knew I had to get you away from the dragon."

"I hope you brought food at least, because if you're planning to have me stayed rescued for any length of time I'll need it later."

A smug smile appeared on his face. "As a matter of fact I did, my lady."

"Good." Sarah also lay down in the grass. She pulled some blades from next to her and played with them.

They were quiet for a while, enjoying each other's silent company. It was a nice, early fall day. The whether was pleasant, not hint of clouds in the blue sky and the breeze was gentle and deceptive. It made it feel like it was late summer. Passing overhead was a flock of Geese and they were flying south. He could hear them arguing over something, but could not make out their distant voices. The High King was going to ask Sarah what she though they were fighting about when he heard her moan.

Looking next to him he found she had fallen asleep. He thought about last time he saw her sleep and was very glad to see that she was not in any danger, at least not any immediate danger. Auntie Larra would be another matter when they returned. During this moment though he did not focus on that. He only admired her, his friend.

She mumbled something in her sleep and turned over and the next thing he knew her head was on his stomach, arm wrapped around his waist. He did not dare breath as his whole body became rigid. What was she doing? A shiver went down his spine, though he really could not call it a shiver as it felt warm almost. What was this?

As if sensing his unease Sarah opened her eyes. "Sorry, I must have fallen asleep." Stiffly Peter nodded his head. She noticed the odd look on his face and was about to ask something when she realized the reason for his odd behavior. She saw where her head had been. "Oh, sorry. I'm so sorry." Her whole face turned pink, reaching all the way to her ears as she sat up.

He chuckled, "Its all right. You were asleep. I'm sure my belly is softer than the ground." She avoided his gaze, pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

"Sorry."

"Hungry?"

She looked at him, confused. "What?"

"Are you hungry? I did bring food, and a blanket, though that was more for the weather if it turned foul," he said standing up and brushing his clothing off. "We could have a picnic. Share stories about our homes. Get to know each other better."

A small smile crept up on her face. "That sounds great." Standing up she followed him back to the horse, which thankfully had not wandered away.

Peter was pulling out the blanket when the clothes he had filched from Edmund's room tumbled out. "I have clothes more to your liking, if you wish." He offered the deep emerald tunic and tanned trousers to her.

"You're the best!" she exclaimed and snatched them from his proffered hands. Peter grinned like an idiot as she ran into a thick cluster of trees.

Taking the blanket he laid it out beneath the tree and then went back for the food. It was nothing special. The food he swiped were meat pies, cheese, and bread, things that could survive a few an hours after leaving the kitchens. He also pulled out a skin of water; he would have brought a skin mead or wine but knew neither would taste good after being away from their cool cellars.

Sarah reappeared wearing the emerald top and trousers. The bottoms were too long for her and she had to roll the end up. The tunic was also not the right size, but Peter knew that when he grabbed it. What he did not know was that apparently he handed her belt as well as she had cinched it around her waist causing the outfit to instantly look more feminine.

"These aren't yours, are they?" she asked, gesturing to her clothes after placing her clothes into an empty saddlebag of his.

Peter suddenly wished they were. "No, they're my brother's. If he ever asks, don't tell him where you got them."

Rolling her eyes she took a seat on the blanket. "I haven't even met your brother."

He opened his mouth to correct her but stopped. While they had shared things from their respective worlds and her told her a great deal about his family he realized he never mentioned their names. How was that possible? Before he could rectify this problem Sarah was already moving off the subject.

"This shirt is really fine in quality," she said, rubbing her finger across the silver threading on the hem of the shirt. "I've never seen anything like it."

"The Nymphs weave it. I don't know what it's made from, not really my specialty. I just put on what they tell me to wear."

"Typical guy," she replied, rolling her eyes. "So what did you bring for us to eat?"

"Meat pies, cheese and-" he didn't get to finish. A high howl came from the cluster of trees that Sarah had just changed in.

"What is that?" Sarah said, taking a few steps closer to Peter.

"I don't know." He was ready to draw his sword when he saw what she was talking about. A squirrel was rummaging through the bags attached still on the horse's back. "Its just a squirrel."

"No nuts," came a small voice.

"Make that a Squirrel," Peter corrected himself. "Don't worry about him."

Sarah was going to just that when the little Creature pulled out her dress. "This is not a nut, but smells pretty," it mumbled.

"Put that back!" Sarah shouted, placing her hands on her hips.

"Uh-oh!" The Squirrel ran up the tree they were standing over with the dress in its hands.

"Hey!" Sarah cried running to the tree. "Come back here, that's mine!"

"I'll get it," Peter said, taking off his sword as he spoke. "He'll give it back if I asked."

Sarah gave him a skeptical look. "What, are you some king of Squirrel Whisperer?"

"What?"

"Never mind," she sighed. "Fine, but be careful."

"Always," Peter replied. He got on the horse, stood on it's back and went for the nearest branch. The Squirrel spotted him and yelped going up farther. "Wait, no, come back!" The little beast went further still. "Ruddy Animal."

The Squirrel clutched the dress closer to his chest. "No, mister, its all mine, found it fair and square." Again, he ran from Peter, scurrying out to the edge of a branch.

Continuing to curse the little Creature Peter followed it out on the branch. "May I please have that?" He asked, trying to sound pleasant. "You see, that dress belongs to my friend down there."

The Squirrel looked down at Sarah, then back at Peter. "She is pretty, but pretty lady doesn't need the dress."

"Please?"

This apparently caused the Squirrel to think, as his little brown head tip toward the sky. Peter took this opportunity to reach for the dress. Unfortunately he was not paying attention to how far he was out. Just as his fingers grasped on the fabric of the dress he heard a snap. The Squirrel wisely jumped to safety of the next tree. The High King however did not have that small luxury.

It was a funny thing to feel one fall from such a height. He thought for sure his stomach would have been doing flips or his life flash before his eyes. Nothing of the sort happened. Though he could say hitting the ground with such speed was not pleasant.

Sarah watched him fall. Crying out his name she ran to his side. He was on his back, the dress covering his face. "Peter. Peter, are you all right?"

She took a hold of his forearm and gave it a slight shake. Putting her head to his chest the made sure that his heart was still beating. It sounded as if was going a little fast. 'Crap, where do you find his pulse?' she thought as she tried to find it in his wrist. She lifted the dress off his face to put her hand to his neck but instead found him smiling.

"You're okay!"

"Had the wind knocked out of me, that's all," was his reply and he laughed. She had to laugh with him, more in relief than anything. Sheepishly he held out the dress. "Your garment, my lady."

Sarah laughed and when Peter sat up she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I promise to never let you go chasing after crazy Animals again."

"Even when they steal your things?" Peter asked. He was a little unsure how to respond to her affection and settle for putting one arm around her.

"Especially when they take my things," she replied pulling away from him. "I don't know what I would do if I lost a friend like you."

Friend. That word was not what he was hoping to be described as though he told himself logically (and reminding himself of Susan) that they were friends and it was an appropriate word to be described as such.

The rest of the day was wonderful. When the sun began to set they made their way home, more slowly this time as the old dragon of a woman was not chasing them. Sarah had changed back into her dress before they left. Sarah told him on their way back that they would be moving to guest quarters in the palace a week before the ball and leave a week after the ball.

Peter discovered something curious about his friend, as they got closer to her home. When they were alone she had a certain air of confidence but when ever she felt she had done something wrong or could have caused someone to be upset she got nervous and would ask questions like:

"You don't think that it's waist of time, me trying to me a proper lady and all?" she asked from her position sitting behind Peter, arms wrapped around his waist, on his horse.

They had arrived at the cottage. Auntie Larra had probably gone home for the night, thus saving Sarah the embarrassment of the old woman running out and throwing vegetables at them.

Peter dismounted first and then helped her off. She quietly thanked him, her eyes not meeting his as if she was self-conscious of something. He realized he had not answered her question. "Sarah, I know you can do it."

Smiling she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you Peter, you're a great friend." She kissed his cheek before untangling herself. Quietly she said thanked him for such a fun day, said good-bye and went inside.

Peter did not move from his place, he was frozen. He just realized that he liked Sarah as more than a friend. And suddenly he knew what he had to do. At the ball he would find Sarah and tell her everything. Tell her he was High King; tell her who exactly his siblings were. Tell her that he like her that he would like to court her, exclusively.

He would tell her all these things at the ball. He just needed to figure out what her costume would be. And unmask her. And pray that she wouldn't laugh at him.