A/N: Yay, I did it! I said I'd try to get this chapter up today, and I managed to do it, PLUS post the first chapter of "The Funny Farm and the Order of the Phoenix"! But, alas, alack, school starts again tomorrow! I'll try very hard to keep updating regularly, but I simply won't have the time to sit at my laptop for five hours a day and write. :P I wish I did, but, sadly, I don't. Darn homework!

In other news—OMGOSH! 300 reviews?? You guys are AMAZING! :D I can't believe my little baby has gotten so much attention. I really appreciate it, guys! Kudos to every single one of you! I'd name you all individually if I could, but there simply isn't time or room. But I hope you all know that I read each review, and really appreciate each second it takes to read the story and post responses. I can have the absolute worst day, and I'll come home and check my email, and the wonderful things you all say can instantly turn my mood around. :) Here's a big warm hug for you all!

Oh, yeah, and I hope this chapter's nice, too. XD

--

By a quarter to eight o'clock, Enna was more than ready. She had her warm wool cloak on over her warm cotton dress, and her boots, softened by the fire, were melding around her feet. Meeting no one on the staircase going down to the main castle only gave her more excuse to quicken her pace.

When she reached the main hall, there was a steady stream of creatures, many bearing torches, crowding through the towering doorway and over the drawbridge. Enna, pulling her hood up over her head and lifting her skirts with one hand, followed the river of flickering fire into the wood, the distant sounds of laughter and cheery music beckoning.

The moon shone softly on the snow, even through the blanketed trees, and Enna's heart gave a happy little leap when she came upon the clearing. Richly ornamented tables, laden with gold and silver plates, bejeweled goblets, and covered platters emitting tantalizing smells, encircled the large glade, thick braziers crackling behind each chair. The snow had been stamped down into an even carpet, making a nice flat surface in the center, and it crunched delightfully under Enna's feet. Narnians, young and old, were seated at the long tables, laughing and chatting merrily, a small band of musicians playing festive music nearby.

"Well met, my queen," said a deep voice in her ear, someone's hands closing on her shoulders.

Enna jumped, her hood slipping off, and spun around, stepping on her hem and falling to her back in the snow. "Who—what—"

The speaker was a broad-shouldered, red-haired giant of a man, dressed in garments of fine purple, his cloak edged with ermine—the Nymrunian ambassador. "Pardon me!" he said in his elegant accent, sweeping a low bow. "I mistook you, my lady, for someone else."

"It's no bother," Enna said breathlessly, her heart pounding with the sudden scare. "My lord is quite forgiven."

The ambassador bowed himself away, and Enna pushed herself back to her feet.

"I see you have made a positive impression on His Excellency."

Enna turned at the familiar voice. "Have I, Aslan…? He quite frightened me."

The tawny lion, bits of snow clinging to his mane, chuckled. "He was not negatively influenced."

"I hope not. I would feel terrible if I ruined Her Majesty's chance of a marriage with their king."

"It would take much more than a startled maiden to break off these marriage negotiations," Aslan replied. "His Highness King Galad desires Queen Susan as a bride above all else."

"Why does he send his men in his place, then?" Enna asked. "Why doesn't he come here to meet her?"

"Ah," Aslan sighed. "Young Enna, the ways of men are most strange."

"I have often thought that, myself."

"Hello, Aslan," called a badger, waving excitedly.

Aslan nodded to him. "Well met, Snuffleclaws."

"How goes the kingdom?"

"Fair, my friend."

"Most excellent!"

Aslan nodded again, and then said to Enna, "Come, my child, and walk with me a spell."

Enna followed him from the glade, the snow becoming soft underfoot. "Have I done something dreadful?" she asked fearfully.

"Your wrongdoing is not what I wish to speak about tonight," Aslan replied. "Rather, I have come to inquire after your progress."

Enna knotted her fingers together in front of her, the sleeves of her fine dress slipping down her arms. "I have given it much thought."

"And?"

"I…" Enna blew a long sigh. "I just…I still have trouble believing that you are really this…this exalted, all-knowing being. You're standing right here, I can feel your breath on my hands. How can you be the ruler of all, above everything, and yet still here among us?"

"You have felt Peter's touch, have you not?" Aslan asked.

"Aye…"

"Is he not the highest ruler in Narnia?"

"Well, yes," Enna replied, "but he is a boy, a real human, just like I am."

"And am I not a real lion?"

"You're not Peter, though," Enna said, getting a bit frustrated by Aslan's impervious logic. "You're higher than him."

"Now you're getting somewhere," Aslan replied, his golden eyes quietly smiling. "I am higher-ranking than Peter."

Enna huffed a sigh, pushing a bare branch out of her path.

"But you still don't believe what I say?"

"Not all of it."

"Not all? What do you believe, then?"

"I believe your name is Aslan, and you come from overseas. You answer only to the Emperor-Over-the-Sea."

"He is my father."

"Then…he's a lion, too?"

Aslan chuckled. "His form is the same as mine. This lion's semblance is the shape I take when I am here, in the West."

"But…"

"Have you seen any other talking lions?"

"Well, no…"

"I am one of the only. There are few talking lions, beyond myself. They are becoming fewer and fewer."

"But…the third prophecy," Enna said. "It…it hasn't come true yet, and the month wanes at sunup tomorrow."

"The night is yet young," Aslan replied.

Enna fell into puzzled silence. Aslan kept walking by her side, his great paws making no sound in the snow. She could hear the sounds of the Narnians again; he must have led her in an arc back to the clearing.

"We shall speak again later," Aslan said finally. "There are those who await your presence."

"Really?" Enna was surprised. "Who?"

They broke from the wood, the moon- and firelight a stark contrast to the soft darkness of the trees. Peter and his three siblings were seated at an elevated table nearby, the Nymrunian envoy positioned next to them. "Shall we commence, my royal brother?" she heard young Queen Lucy ask.

"I would like to, but our lady Enna promised she'd be here, and I don't wish for her to miss it."

Enna took up her skirts in her hand and went forth into the clearing. "I'm here, Peter."

He turned at the sound of her voice and immediately stood up, nearly knocking his chair over in his haste. "Enna—!"

"I'm sorry for delaying your feast, I was talking to Aslan…"

Peter bowed low to Aslan, who greeted him warmly before moving on to the other guests. "Don't feel bad, Enna, really."

"I am sorry."

"Quite forgiven. Lord Lorendo was just telling us how he mistook you for my royal sister."

Enna flushed. "He quite alarmed me, but I'm afraid I did him no great favor, either. I think I trod on his toe…"

His eyes dancing with laughter, Peter said, "He has expressed the belief that you are a Narnian duchess, or similar royalty."

"He what?"

"I didn't believe him at first, thinking that you are a highly agreeable girl, but not possessing the haughty look of royalty, but now that I've laid eyes on you…"

"Now that you've laid eyes on me, what?" Enna put her hands on her hips. "Do I look haughty to you?"

"What? No!" Peter ran his hands through his hair. "I didn't mean it that way at all. I meant…you look…"

While he was casting about for a suitable adjective, the two queens abandoned their seats and brushed him aside. "Lady Enna!" Queen Susan exclaimed, catching Enna's hands in hers. "You look wonderful! Did I not tell you, Lucy, that the cut was perfect for her build?"

"You did," Queen Lucy replied. "And it is!"

"I so hoped it would suit you, Enna, dear. The color goes beautifully with her freckles, doesn't it, Peter?"

"Er—"

"Naeomi has done wonders with your hair," Lucy went on. "I never realized how lovely it is! I'm quite jealous."

Enna's face was burning by this point. "Thank you, Your Majesties," she said modestly, curtsying. "You were both very kind for lending me the use of your fine things."

"I think the circlet looks much better on you than it does me, Enna," said Lucy. "I'll let you keep it if you promise to wear it more often."

"Oh, Your Highness, I couldn't—"

"Do," Lucy insisted, taking one of her hands from Susan and patting it. "Consider it my Christmas gift to you."

"But I don't have anything in return."

"That's why it is a gift," Lucy said, her young face a bit surprised. "Haven't you ever gotten anything out of affection?"

"Oh, never mind that," said Susan. "Do you like the dress?"

"Aye, Your Majesty," Enna replied, unable to keep a smile off her face. "I didn't think I would, at first, but I do now. It is very comfortable."

"Good!" Susan said, squeezing her hand and then releasing it. "I hope you wear it again."

"I will."

"Go on, you silly geese," Peter said, shooing them back towards the table. "Entertain your guests."

"Oh, all right," Lucy said, wrinkling her nose at him. "But then you can't keep Enna all to yourself, either. You must start the feast!"

"We'll see." Peter winked at Enna as Lucy returned to her seat. "My sisters are good people."

"That they are."

He looked at her in silence for a moment before shaking his head as if he'd forgotten himself, offering her an arm. "Let me find you a seat."

Enna took it, and he led her away from the royal dais. "What did you tell the ambassador, anyway?"

Peter's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Well…"

She looked quickly over at him. "You didn't tell him I was a—a sea rat, did you?"

"No, of course not."

"Then what?"

"I…well, I didn't see any need to correct him."

"So he thinks I'm a duchess—!" The thought should have made her smile, but it only horrified her. "What am I to do? I—I know no court manners, at least not many, what if I should scandalize the envoy and cause them to abandon their quest for Queen Susan's favor!"

"Take ease," Peter told her with a smile. "My sister is not at all inclined to accept their proposal. We intend to tell them this in the near future, but not until we treat them to a bit of hospitality first. You needn't do anything."

Enna didn't like this idea. "But what if they ask me about Narnia? Your customs and practices?"

"They have no interest in lower royalty," Peter assured her. "You won't be bothered."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite."

Sighing, she said, "All right, then."

"There! You may bask in your pretend royalty all night."

She smiled.

"Ah. I have found you a proper seatmate." He released her hand and pulled out a seat next to Aramir, who looked around and stood up quickly.

"Enna!"

"…Aramir?"

He was a bit wide-eyed. "I…I didn't recognize you!"

"Neither did the ambassador," Peter teased.

"Oh—sire," Aramir said, as if he'd forgotten about Peter, and bowed low. "I…I didn't see you."

"Never mind that," Peter said. "Here, Enna, sit."

Aramir, keeping his eyes on Enna's, helped her into her seat, and Peter bowed himself away.

"You look lovely," he said, sitting down.

"Thank you," Enna said, her stomach rumbling as servers went around and uncovered the platters.

"Here, let me help you," Aramir said as she reached for a pitcher of mead. He stood and poured her a goblet.

"You're being very considerate tonight," she commented.

"I suppose all these Nymrunians have rubbed off on me."

She smiled as the feast commenced. "If so, then you must think me a duchess!"

A good hour later, when everyone was full and starting to get sleepy, Peter stood up. "And now…for the Great Snow Dance!"

The musicians started playing a haunting, yet fast-paced, tune, and Enna noticed a gaggle of Dwarfs in their finest clothes coming between a few tables.

"Is this it?" she whispered to Aramir.

"I think so."

All of the Dwarfs had a basket full of snowballs, Enna saw as they formed a circle in the center of the tables.

"How curious!" she murmured.

It was soon to get more curious. Suddenly, the Dwarfs leapt into motion, doing complicated movements with their feet as they danced around in a ring. Every few beats, they all reached into their baskets and tossed a snowball between the two Dwarfs across from them. The missiles missed very closely on several occasions, drawing gasps from the audience.

Enna was enthralled—she had never seen anything so fascinating, not in all her years. The Dwarfs were dancing around so quickly that their feet were a blur, and the music was stirring Enna's heart to faster and faster pulses! She wanted to leap to her feet and join the revelers, her skirts whirling around her ankles and the stars spinning crazily over her head.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the music stopped, and Enna remembered where she was, though her heart was racing and her breath coming in quick gulps. The Narnians were applauding wildly, and the Nymrunians giving a standing ovation as the Dwarfs took a bow and trooped out through the tables.

"Ooh, this is my favorite part," said a pretty she-faun on Enna's left.

"What is?"

"The dancing, of course!"

The musicians took a deep breath and struck up another tune, the pipes whistling merrily in time with the pounding drums. The two queens stood up and began to cavort about, their gay laughter convincing other palace dwellers to join them in a teeming, joyous dance. Enna longed to get up and join the merry-makers, but there were too many reasons she could think of to keep her quietly in her seat.

That is, until Aramir stood up and caught her hand in his large one. "Come along, Enna, take off your cloak and be happy."

She didn't need telling twice. Pushing her chair back, she unpinned her cloak from around her neck and let Aramir lead her out into the mass of people. Someone took her other hand, and suddenly she was being pulled along in a rush of colors and music, the spectators clapping along.

It took her a few moments to gain her feet, but when she did, she found herself whirling about with everyone else. The stars spun gaily above her head, and the snow crunched with each light footstep, and her long curls caught each breeze as they wafted through the clearing. She could hardly think, she was so caught up in the excitement, but all she knew was that she never, ever, wanted to leave Narnia.

Eventually, the music wore down, and Enna quickly realized how tired she now was. But the smile that was on her face would not relax, and she was filled with such delight that she didn't care how weak and wobbly her legs were. Aramir, his laugh rumbling in his chest, helped her back to her seat, and the Nymrunians applauded the winded musicians as desserts were brought out.

Enna clapped along for a few moments before she noticed Peter trying to catch her eye. When she gave him a quizzical expression, he beckoned for her to come.

"Pardon me for a few moments, Aramir," she said, standing up and going to the royal dais.

"Ah," Peter said, standing at her approach. The red-haired, mustachioed Nymrunians all hastily leapt to their feet when they saw her. "Gentlemen, I present to you Lady Enna. My lady, please to make the acquaintance of Lord Lorendo and his cortège."

"How do you do," Enna said feebly, suddenly unsure of herself again as she curtsied.

The red-haired Lord Lorendo stepped down from the dais and kissed her hand, bowing low. "We are very well, madam. Your people are very hospitable."

"Please, gentlemen, sit," Peter said, throwing her a wink and indicating a chair at his right, next to Lorendo.

Enna took a deep breath and sat, keeping her head high and shoulders back in what she hoped was a regal posture. Peter bent over as if he were adjusting her chair, but his voice tickled in her ear: "The envoy is impressed with you. Try to engage them in conversation." In a louder voice, he said, "My lady Enna, you are quite the talk of the table tonight."

"Oh," Enna breathed, her face suddenly burning with fearfulness. "And…why is that, my lords? Have I displeased you in some way?"

She was serious in her questioning, but the Nymrunians laughed as if she had made some witty joke. "My lady is the farthest from displeasing," Lorendo said, motioning for a dryad to pour her a goblet of wine.

Enna snuck a look at Peter, who seemed to be enjoying her little charade. "I am glad to hear it."

"I have been telling Lord Lorendo how well schooled you are in our history, my lady," said Peter, drinking from his goblet.

"You—what?"

"Indeed he has, madam," said Lorendo. "It pleases us to see that Narnia values the education of its royalty as highly as Nymru does."

Enna was sure he could hear her heart pounding! "The upper class is nothing without education, indeed," she replied, praying for composure.

"For sooth," said Lorendo, looking at his entourage once before leaning closer to her. "Tell me, my lady, what have you heard of our kingdom?"

"Nymru?" Enna said, taking a deep breath. "I…I have heard it is of arctic climes, very cold."

"Indeed, indeed, but what of our government?"

Enna bit her lip. "It is…" She'd heard it called a tyranny, but she could not say that to the ambassador's face. "I believe your king wields greater power than those of kingdoms farther south."

"Well put, madam," Lorendo replied. "We believe that our rulers are set above the commonfolk, who are so mentally inferior that they are in constant need of careful, tight government."

Enna felt a twist of disagreement at his words. "I see. What if, sir, it is the other way around? What if there comes a king that is terribly injudicious, and cannot see beyond the walls of his castle? And his subjects realize their tragic circumstances, and have valid concerns and solutions? Are they muffled?"

"Of course," Lorendo replied. "The commonfolk are common for the very reason that their intellects are substandard."

"Are they really?" Enna said disbelievingly. "Do you test your schoolchildren, and judge the results, and come out with that conclusion?'

"We do not have schools for the peasants, my lady."

Horrified, Enna said, "And yet you say you value education!"

"Education for the noble," Lorendo clarified.

"What if a great mind arose from the lower class? Would you stifle it? Ignore her pleas for change?"

"'Her'?" Lorendo said. "Oh, certainly, my lady, you cannot be serious."

"Cannot be serious about what?"

"I mean no affront to your sex, madam," said Lorendo, slowly, "but of all the persons to have intellect, a lady would be the last."

Enna, her head reeling with outrage, stood up abruptly and walked away, not realizing until later that she had taken no leave of either the Nymrunians nor Peter.

"Are you ill?" Aramir asked when she returned to him. "You are quite flushed."

She sat down, tossing her hair unhappily. "Do you think me clever, Aramir?"

He blinked. "Well, aye, of course. I have met many men who are less canny than you."

"Then I am not crazy."

"Should I think you so?"

Enna sighed. "The Nymrunian ambassador 'means no affront to my sex', of course, but thinks that women, of all the stupid masses of the world, are the stupidest."

"Did you insult him first?"

"What? Of course not!" She plucked a grape from a plate of fruit and rolled it between her wobbly fingers. "I am very displeased. I thought him rather nice, and very cordial, but what he believes are quite the opposite."

"Are you glad you were arrested in Narnia, then?" Aramir asked with a smile.

"Aye, very."

Aramir reached for the hand that held the grape and stilled her trembling fingers. "Try not to think on it. You are not Her Majesty the queen, and you do not have to worry about marrying their king."

"That is true," Enna admitted.

"Look. The storytellers are coming."

Enna sat up at this—she had been waiting for this moment all day! The musicians began to play a soft, elegiac melody as an aged centaur, swathed in a thick blanket against the chill night air, came between the tables, his worn hooves scraping the snow. "Your Majesties," he said, approaching the royal dais and bowing low. His voice was deep and resonant.

"Good e'en, Amycus," said Peter. "What do you have for us tonight?"

"I wish to recount the tale of Olvin the Archenlandian," said the centaur.

"Proceed."

Enna's breath caught in her throat with excitement.

Amycus turned around, his hooves leaving deep indentations in the snow. The musicians' music took on a distinctly mysterious tone, and he looked around at the Narnians, his dark eyes flashing in the firelight.

"Tonight, the story of an Old World will be told to the New. It is my intent and purpose that all present tonight take from my tale a moral, and through it bring prosperity to Aslan's kingdom.

"My story begins in the World of old, four hundred and seven years after the reign of King Frank and Queen Helen, two hundred and twenty-seven years after the reign of King Col of Archenland, one hundred and sixty-three years before the time of Moonwood the Hare, four hundred and twenty-one years before the return of the White Witch Jadis from the Far North, four hundred and twenty-three years before the beginning of the Hundred-Year Winter, five hundred and ninety-three years before the reign of our most high rulers, and five hundred and one years before this day.

"The World of old was no different in landscape and terrain from the World of today. Cair Paravel rested on the shores of the Sea, and the Great Waterfall rumbled in the far West. King Gurd, a Son of Adam, ruled from the throne of Cair Paravel, and his fellow man, King Od, from the throne of Archenland.

"Colvin of Archenland was a mighty warrior in that day, of brawny chest and strong arm. He was King Od's most trusted general, possessing a mind and will of steel. King Od trusted Colvin above all others.

"One year, the giants of Ettinsmoor in the North waged a mighty war amongst themselves. King Gurd's border guard was destroyed in its attempts to defend Narnia's northernmost reaches against their feuding neighbors. A wave of displaced giants flooded southward, wreaking havoc and causing destruction wherever they went, until they were confronted by the full strength of King Gurd and his army. A great battle was waged and won by the Narnians on the banks of the Archen River, and the giants turned back to Ettinsmoor

"The giant Pire managed to cross the Archen Mountains into Archenland, however, undetected by Sons of Adam until he approached the castle Anvard. Archenland was thrown into a panic, for Pire had determined to carry away King Od and his wife Queen Bryd if they did not appease his demands within the space of forty days. But Archenland could not answer him, for his requests were for more cattle and grain than the good people of Archenland could butcher or harvest in a year's time.

"Desperate for a solution, Od held a contest of strength, the prize being his lovely daughter Hilde. The most stalwart men in the land gathered at Anvard, and each took up a sword and shield, and attempted to slay the giant Pire. All failed, and all were killed.

"Quite distressed, Od called for Colvin, his beloved general, on the twenty-ninth day of failed assaults.

"'You must help us,' said Od, 'for if we do not appease the giant, he will slay your king and your queen, and dear Archenland shall be overtaken.'

"'Fear not, my king,' said good Colvin. He took up his armor and shield, but refused a sword, requesting only a slingshot of yew and five smooth stones, polished in the Archen River. These he was given, and he went out to meet the giant while the people waited in fear.

"Pire came out to meet him, laughing at the sight of this unarmed Son of Adam. But Colvin slung his slingshot and struck the giant on the ear. Calling out in pain, the giant turned and fled, and Colvin pursued him from Anvard all the way to the Archen Mountains. There he slung the slingshot once more and struck the giant on the forehead, and Pire fell dead. Without a sword or javelin, Colvin killed him. As proof of his success, Colvin took the giant's sword and cut off his head.

"Colvin returned triumphant to Anvard, and King Od met him on the streets of the city. 'Well done, my servant,' he said, seeing the giant's head. 'You shall have the lovely Hilde as your bride.' Olvin refused the king's offer, for the princess was far too beautiful and graceful to wed a rough soldier.

"But Hilde, leaning from her tower window, caught sight of proud Colvin, and her heart loved him. She entreated her father, and pined away on her sickbed, until King Od relented and made Colvin heir to his throne. When Colvin discovered that the princess had petitioned for his promotion, and lay dying for love of him, he went up to her, and kissed her pale cheek. 'I shall wed you, dearest Hilde,' he told her.

"Upon hearing this, Hilde sprang from her bed, fully recovered, and they were married that very morn. The kingdom rejoiced, for their first child was a son, whom they named Ur, and he grew to be a strong and righteous king.

"The giant's body rotted in the mountains, and great stones grew atop the corpse, higher and higher, until it rose above all others in the Archen Mountains. To this day, the peak is called Mount Pire.

"And that is how Colvin of Archenland slew the giant Pire and won himself a kingdom and a wife."

Amycus bowed his head, and the Nymrunians led the rest of the audience in enthusiastic applause. Enna clapped along, her head awhirl with all the images the story had left behind—a proud, broad-shouldered warrior winning the heart of a lovely princess, slaying a giant and saving a kingdom…! How she wished adventures like that still occurred!

A white-bearded Dwarf entered the ring of tables after this, settling a tiny stool into the snow. "Your Highnesses," he announced himself, bowing to the kings and queens.

"Good e'en, Guffer," said Peter. "What do you have?"

"I wish to present the tale of Moonwood the Hare, Your Majesties."

"Excellent. Proceed."

Guffer seated himself on the stool and put his hands over his knees, clearing his raspy throat. "My story begins—"

He stopped abruptly, lifting a lock of coarse white hair from his ear. The glade went suddenly silent as everyone listened, Enna and Aramir unconsciously holding their breaths. There was a faraway sound that Enna detected, though it just seemed like an echo of the flickering and popping torches. What was it? It sounded familiar, but it was too faint to tell…

Goblets and plates rattled as Peter stood quickly, looking south. Enna leaned over the table slightly, trying to see down the path. There was a red glow growing on the bare trees, and she heard the muffled 'ga-lump'ing of hooves in the snow.

"What news?" said Peter, his voice unnaturally loud in the quiet clearing.

A centaur, a flaming torch in his hand, came galloping into the dell, his coat and bare chest glistening with sweat. "Sire, the harbor is alight!"

King Edmund and Queen Lucy stood quickly, and a dismayed murmur swept the crowd.

"Are you sure?" Peter asked shortly.

"Sire, I saw it with my own eyes. The docks are well gone, and the warehouses are begun to burn. Everyone there is fighting the flames, but we are sorely outnumbered."

"Outnumbered?"

"My lord, did you not know? There are five frigates in the bay, and they are launching blazing arrows at our outbuildings!"

"They're what?" Peter slammed a fist on the table. "Have they struck battle colors? What kingdom?"

"Aye, sire, red and white flags. I fear it is Galma."

--

A/N: Bwahahaha! So we reach the conflict! :D It took us a long time to get here, but there you have it! If I'd kept this chapter and 26 together, you'd be reading 16 pages (in Word) of straight text. :P

By the way, if you are at all interested, I posted a link on our profile—it leads to what I think is a very similar dress to Enna's. It's at the very bottom of the page, right above Bunny. :D