I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies.

Lucy did not feel the full force of her failure until the cell door clicked shut. It was only when the key turned in the lock and the guard left her there in the darkness that she began to comprehend just what this meant. They had entered the castle as three rescuers bent on saving one prisoner – and had become just three more prisoners, this time with no hope of rescue. Tomorrow would be Susan's wedding. Locked in the bowels of King Valin's castle, they could do absolutely nothing to prevent it. Probably, she would be wed and Narnia invaded before they even saw the light of day again.

It was not in Lucy's nature to give in to despair, but she felt it threatening hugely over her head. The guards had separated the three of them into entirely different cell blocks, dragging Peter off to the second and putting Lucy into the third, so that thick stone walls separated them in sight, sound and thought. They had confiscated all their weapons and Lucy's belt, with it her rings and cordial, and whisked them off to some unknown place, though she wasn't sure the guards knew what everything actually was. And so the four monarchs of Narnia found themselves utterly helpless, isolated and imprisoned in the wrong world, on a quest that started out as "only a small problem," in Peter's words, but which seemed to have ended in utter disaster.

Lucy did not know how long she paced her cell, alternately weeping and then forcing herself to be hopeful. Aslan would not have sent them on a quest they could not finish, she told herself in one of these moments. But even as she thought that, another voice inside her suggested that Aslan had in fact overestimated her and her siblings, assumed that they were more capable and resourceful than they actually were. And the stakes were so very high – it looked as though Valin might succeed in his quest, and what then? Susan would become little more than his servant, forced to watch as he led an army into her homeland in an absurd quest for land and glory. Though Lucy knew that even in their absence, the Narnian armies would fight strong and brave under the guidance of General Oreius, Narnia neither needed nor wanted a war, especially not with forces they'd never seen before from another world entirely.

And especially not when such a war was preventable from this end. Lucy knew that the kingdom – Caelan, had someone called it? – was close to rebellion; King Valin may have won over the soldiers somehow, as they seemed quite loyal to him, but the people were unhappy and Lucy doubted they would support him if given an opportunity for dissent. Though fear choked them for the moment, they might rise up if someone appeared to lead them. She and her siblings could do that – but not from behind bars! She had to find a way to escape.

Though she had already combed over every inch of her cell, looking for a weak spot, Lucy did so again now, down on her hands and knees and up on her tiptoes, her hands running over the bars and the stone. They had not bothered to manacle her; she supposed they thought her a small threat because of her age and sex. Unfortunately for her, the fifth check yielded nothing new and she sank to the floor in a frustrated heap.

"Please," she whispered despairingly. "Please, Aslan, help us."

She had not really expected a response, but she got one.

From somewhere down the dark hallway, she heard footsteps, and then two people were entering the cell block, a guard and someone she couldn't fully see in the dim light.

"This her?" the guard grunted, gesturing to Lucy when the two had finally reached her cell. She stared and gave a start when she realized the other person was Danya, the maid with whom she'd worked before, to whom she had spilled her story. She felt cold terror twist in her stomach, wondering if she had been foolish to speak so openly, to trust someone she barely knew.

"There you are," said Danya, crouching beside Lucy's cell to look her in the eye. "I told you not to go off adventuring, Faye, especially not down here. Mother is so worried."

Lucy opened her mouth confusedly. Danya gave an exaggerated sigh and straightened out so she could talk to the guard again.

"I'm sorry, I tried to keep an eye on her, but she's younger than she looks, you know. She's hard to keep track of. It won't happen again, I promise; I'll keep her with me on my shift tomorrow."

"You'd better," the guard muttered, and he reached for his keys. A moment later, the door swung open.

"Come on, Faye," Danya said meaningfully, looking her right in the eye. "It's time to go home."

Lucy stood up uncertainly and took Danya's proffered hand. When she stepped out of the cell, the guard shut it behind her and waited impatiently for the two of them to get moving, which they did, Danya setting a rather quick pace back down the hallway and away from the dungeons. Past the guards they walked briskly, down the next hallway and beginning up the stairs towards the main castle. Neither one spoke, despite Lucy's repeated questioning glances. At last, the maid's grip on her wrist slackened and they slowed down before she took a sharp right down into the servants' quarters. A few steps more and they had entered a side room, empty of people but crowded with rough beds and small trunks of belongings.

"How…why…" Lucy attempted to ask, baffled.

"You weren't back when I finished my shift. I don't know if I believe your entire story, but I'm sure you don't deserve to be down there, of all places," Danya said simply. "Did you find your brothers?"

Lucy nodded and bit her lip.

"Thank you," she said, unsure even how to put her gratitude into words. "That…that was really brave."

"You remind me of my real little sister," Danya laughed with a grim smile. "When you didn't come back, I had to go after you."

"Danya," said Lucy suddenly. The maid looked over at her as she knelt down began rummaging in one of the trunks.

"Yes?"

"I need to stop that wedding."

Danya straightened out, a piece of parchment clasped in one hand.

"I know," she nodded. "And I know some people who can help."