Forgot to mention this last chapter—direct book quotes are underlined. Any other emphasis is mine. Also, I don't like this chapter as well as the last. The next one will be much better, promise.
The Dryads snickered at the monarchs' gentle banter and shivered within their branches. Several leapt from their trees with great joy, taking off through the thicket after the kings and queens, traveling on breezes and the horses' steady breathing. All the trees leaned forward to watch, for nothing brought them more happiness than to see their beloved monarchs at peace.
Lucy brightened at once and smiled at the dryads as they passed by and whirled around the majestic set. They waved back courteously, which was about the time the others began to notice them as well. Glad to be traveling with friends, they sped through the thicket.
The Dryads knew these woods as well as they knew each other and came and went as they pleased, save to one peculiar spot where the trees, though growing, bore no life and could not speak. And it was to this spot the humans were pressing when they heard Susan say "Fair friends, this is a great marvel, for I seem to see a tree of iron." She said it as much a question to the Dryads as a confirmation from her siblings.
"Are you quite certain it is, in fact, a tree?" Edmund asked dubiously, reaching forward to touch it before jerking back. It was probably most cold. "If you look well upon it you shall see it is a pillar of iron with a lantern set on the top thereof," the Just King went on to explain, looking the peculiar thing up and down.
Indeed, long had the Dryads of Lantern Waste done much the same thing—no one knew where the iron pillar had come from. Only that it had been there since the oldest one's earliest memory. The monarchs stayed by the pillar to discuss and muse over its origin and purpose. The Dryads grew bored and began to flit back to their trunks. Two of them lagged behind, half listening to the royal conversation and half simply enjoying the day.
It was then that the most peculiar thing happened. The presence, the very feel of the kings and queens in the wood suddenly and most abruptly vanished. The two straggling Dryads froze in their flights and looked at each other in concern.
"I am experiencing the most…unusual feeling," said the first, glancing back into the thicket where they had left Their Majesties.
"As if our noble monarchs were suddenly afar off?" asked the second. The first nodded. "I feel it too. Could it be they have left the woods so quickly?"
The first shook her head. "We would have felt them leave. They are too full of life to have gone entirely without our noticing."
The trees shivered, and the two knew the other Dryads had felt the change as well. "Could something have happened?" asked the second. "We should go back and see."
"If they get much closer to the Lantern-Tree," the first warned, "we will be unable to follow. Perhaps we should wait."
"No, sister," the second answered. "I fear that something terrible has happened. We must go back."
The first frowned, the petals that formed her hair lifting and twirling as if reflecting their owner's indecision. "Perhaps we should call for help."
"You call, then. I'm going back." The second Dryad whirled about and raced on the wind to the thicket of unliving trees.
The first seemed to bite her lip before raising a cry among the trees. "Come, sisters! Find our Kings! Call our Queens!" A small explosion of petals and leaves followed this pronouncement as the Dryads of Lantern Waste stirred themselves and raced to the first Dryad's side.
"They're gone!" came a shout as the final Dryads arrived, having already searched the remaining forest. "Vanished, as sure as the breeze on a still day!"
It was then they heard the second Dryad cry out in astonishment.
It took only a few moments to arrive near the Lantern-Tree, but far longer for the large group to edge close enough to see it. The second Dryad was as close as she could possibly come, staring into the thicket in utter disbelief, for sitting on His haunches by the Lantern-Tree was the Lion himself.
"Aslan," whispered the Trees in awe and fear.
"Hello, my Daughters," he said, his deep voice washing over them. "You have come seeking your Monarchs, have you not? You will not find them in these woods."
"But how could they have fled without our notice!" asked one brave Dryad, her oak-leaf hands shooting up to her mouth as quickly as the words came.
"They have left Narnia, dear ones," He explained further, "for they had another task to fulfill. They have returned to their own world and they shan't be returning for a very long time."
He paused, and the next long minutes were filled with the shrill sobs of a forest in mourning. The first Dryad maneuvered her way to her sister's side, meeting Aslan's eyes with a mixture of grief and shock. "They're really gone for good, Aslan?"
"Yes, Daughter. Fear not, for they are in good hands." He twitched his tail and all fell moderately quiet once more. "You shall see them again, in My Country. For now, I have a favor to ask of you."
"Ask in an instant," the second Dryad said, and many others shouted their agreement.
The Lion smiled, a tender smile full of love. "I must bid you to be My messengers. Bear the news to all corners of Narnia, and beyond if you are able. Tell My people their Kings and Queens have departed, yet all can still be well in the world. I watch over them, always."
"Yes, Aslan," they murmured, visibly containing their heartache for a better time.
A small silence. Then—"Well, my Daughters? Go! Fly!" He roared once, filling them with hope and resolve before turning about and springing into the thicket.
The Dryads sped back to their trees before dividing into different directions. The fastest of them all went to the other forests and began a country-wide knell as every tree sang their mourning-song for the loss of the greatest Kings and Queens Narnia had ever known.
The Messengers did not sing. There was work to be done.
Thanks Eavis, Flapjack, and Lucy for the reviews! Hope you enjoyed rereading the last chapter, and I'm very sorry that my rearranging confused you, Flapjack. If it makes you feel any better, it confused me, too.