A/N: w00t! Chapter Thirty! Let's have a party, everyone! :D Oh, and don't forget about Narnia Fanfiction Revolution's Awards—voting closes in just under two weeks!

In other news, I'm more of a fanfic writer than a reader, as you've probably guessed—but I'm looking to read some good Narnia fics! I'd like them to be in-progress and relatively short, with really good writing and minimal to no spelling/grammar errors. Got any suggestions or think yours is great? Tell meh! :D

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"I'm staying with you, Enna."

The bustle of a castle preparing for war nearly drowned out Aramir's quiet words, but Enna heard them nevertheless. Staring up at Aramir's big brown eyes, blazing with an intensity she was not used to seeing in his gentle face, she stammered, "I…I haven't even said anything yet."

"Nevertheless. I'm going to stay by your side, Enna." He reached out to take her hand in his, but then seemed to change his mind. "People need their friends more than ever in times of war, you know."

A Dwarf bearing hunks of rusted steel to the busy forge down below pushed past them on his way to the stairs, and Aramir drew Enna more towards the snow-covered wall, his hand lingering reassuringly on her arm. "I think I know what you want to tell me," he said as she opened her mouth to protest. "It is too dangerous, it would be foolish of me to stay, I could die, there is no reason for me to risk my neck for something trivial…"

"That's all very true," Enna said stubbornly, a bit discomforted nonetheless. It was if he had read her mind…! "You don't need to stay."

"I know I don't."

"Then why are you going to?"

"Because," Aramir said slowly, as if she were a young child in need of clarification, "I am your friend. Friends stand by each other in times of plenty and of need. I would say this is a time of need."

Enna shook her head, the cold winter wind slapping her ears as it blew her hair back from her face. "Aramir, this is foolishness!"

"Have you never had a friend before?" he asked. She could tell he was jesting, but the words stung nonetheless. "I want to help you, Enna, I really do. Besides…what you said earlier—needing to repay Narnia and Aslan for all they have done for us—where is that now? I want to repay Narnia—I want to protect it, but now all you can say is 'no, this is foolish.'"

She huffed a sigh and turned away to gaze out at the snowy valleys and hills that stretched westward from the castle. "But…the reason that Narnia needs protecting is because of me! Won't the strife end if I simply leave?"

"'Leave'?" Aramir gaped at her. "You can't possibly be thinking of leaving now!"

"It seems the most prudent thing to do, under the circumstances."

Aramir took her by the arms and shook her briskly. "Enna Stalresin! What on Earth is wrong with your head? Narnia needs you, and you need Narnia—by the Lion, by his mane, and by Jove, but you're being dense!"

Enna gawked and blinked a few times.

"Yes," Aramir went on. "You're being dense. You're generally clever and brave, but right now you're just being…dense. Don't you think that, of all the Narnians, you are the most qualified to deal with your uncle?"

Despite the fact that Enna knew very well that he was right, her chin went up defiantly. "I'm not being dense! And just to prove you wrong, I'm going to tell you that I'm going to stay in Narnia." She folded her arms across her chest.

He smirked. "Will you be true to your word? Only then will I be convinced."

"Yes, I'll be true to my word," Enna scoffed. "What do you take me for—a Galmanian?"

"Ah, Enna, always the witty one."

This voice was not Aramir's; rather, it came from Peter, who had approached from behind while Enna was busy being obstinate. He was now fully outfitted in the same battle regalia that Enna had seen in her A Detailed History of and Guide to the Usage of Narnian Weaponry book: a crimson tabard over a coat of mail, and gold-plated pauldrons that rattled with each movement. He looked very noble and especially magnificent, but Enna could only think of the despair and barbarity of the whole ordeal to come—his gleaming sword would soon be stained with blood, his shield battered and the rampant lion scarred, and his face mournful and sweat-stained. The glory of war dimmed in Enna's mind with this sobering image.

"Is she not, sire?" Aramir said dryly, bowing.

Peter smiled sadly. "Aye. My orders of business pale in comparison to her brilliant badinage."

"Orders of business?" Enna repeated, puzzled. "What, have you come to instruct us?"

"In a way," Peter replied. "I am in a bit of a rush, as can be imagined, so I will try to explain quickly—you two should leave. I have already instructed the Nymrunians to return home, for their own safety, and I wish for you to do so, as well."

Enna blinked. "But, Peter—!"

"Please, Enna, do not argue," he replied, holding up a gauntleted hand. "It is best for you to get out of harm's way. There is nothing that will keep the Galmanians fighting longest than knowing that their prize is with the enemy army."

At this, he turned and began to go down the steps, a purposeful stomp to his stride.

Enna and Aramir looked briefly at each other before following the high king. "Peter, we don't want to leave Narnia," Enna called after him as he worked his way through the crowd of busy warriors. "We want to defend her—I want to make amends for what I've done! We owe a great debt to you and your people. Will you not allow us to pay it?"

The Nymrunians, their arms full of trunks and various other personal accoutrements, paused as Enna pushed past them.

"I will have none of this," Peter shouted back. "My word is final!"

"I won't go," Enna replied stubbornly. "And neither will Aramir!"

"What is this all about, my lady?" said Lord Lorendo, approaching her with a curious look on his bearded face.

"His Majesty Peter insists that we leave Narnia at her moment of need," Enna replied crossly as Aramir went off to chase the escaping king.

"I must admit," Lorendo sighed, "it is vexing. Nymru prides herself on her prowess in war. But His Majesty does wish to keep his nobles safe."

Enna considered telling the ambassador that she was no duchess, but then disregarded the idea. "Well, I refuse to leave. I am not a great warrior, but I can help in other ways."

"Here, here," said Lorendo. "Your stalwartness puts me to shame."

"Why doesn't Your Excellency insist on staying then, too?" Enna said, a light going on in her head. "His Majesty would not forcibly eject forty-odd persons from his kingdom, would he? And I'm sure you and your men would be of great assistance to Their Highnesses, both in number of men-at-arms and military strategists."

Lorendo's mouth twisted in a mischievous smile. "My lady makes a very excellent point."

"You will stay, then?"

Lorendo bowed low. "I will stay as long as this beautiful country needs my sword, my lady."

Enna found herself smiling. "Thank you, my lord."

At this moment, the crowd of milling Narnians parted a bit to let their high king, his face red with frustration, through, Aramir at his heel. "What is this nonsense Aramir speaks of, Enna?" he asked straight off.

Enna looked in confusion at Aramir. What had he said? "I refuse to leave, Peter," she repeated. "I'm going to stay here and help you and your people."

"As will I, my lord," said Lorendo, stepping forward to stand abreast with Enna. "I offer you my sword, Your Majesty, and if you will not take it, I subsequently will offer my military knowledge. I have been a general for His Majesty King Alfarrin, the father of our Exalted Leader King Gadalfarrin."

"I want you all home, in safety," Peter said, crossing his arms over his chest. "There is nothing that will keep the Galmanians fighting longest than knowing that their prize is with the enemy army."

Enna folded her hands against her mouth, speaking so softly that he had to lean closer to catch her words, words. "Peter…you know my circumstances. Narnia…Narnia is my home now. Why do you think I have not left before today?"

He looked at her with commiserative blue eyes, and she saw hesitancy and compassion battling together behind his fair brow, slightly wrinkled with the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders. She bit her lip.

Peter continued to watch at her for a few minutes, his eyes flickering over his face, before he sighed and looked away. "Very well, then. I see that I have no choice than to allow you to do what you wish. If it truly be your desires, my lords and lady, then I will allow you to accompany the army farther into Narnia."

"We wish to fight the Galmanians, too," put in a thin-bearded Nymrunian, his voice young and excited. "Will Your Majesty grant us the privilege?"

Peter hesitated again. "It is a long-standing Narnian law that…only those warriors that hold Narnian citizenship are allowed to raise weapons in the army."

"Then make us citizens, for heaven's sake, Peter," Enna exclaimed. The thought of truly being a Narnian made her a bit dizzy, but the weakness was accompanied by a strange giddiness. Just one step farther from her uncle!

"But—"

"If our nationality is the only obstacle," said Lorendo, "then do away with it and make us Narnians. I would proudly bear the rampant lion of this noble kingdom on my shield!"

"This is ridiculous," Peter scoffed. "You are ambassadors. I cannot take away your Nymrunian citizenship!"

"If we should ever desire to return to Nymru and live there," Lorendo countered, "then you may take our Narnianity away from us. But until then, sire…!"

Peter bit his lip fiercely and his nostrils flared, but he let out a rough sigh. "So be it. But you must first dispose of every foreign object on your persons and replace it with a Narnian equivalent."

"It will be done as you say, Your Majesty," said Lorendo, and he and his entourage bowed themselves away.

"What about us, Peter?" Enna ventured. "Me and Aramir? We have long lived just as Narnians do. What can we change?"

Peter looked at them, his lips a thin line. "Your names."

Enna pulled in her chin at the thought of being known by a title that was not hers. "Peter, I…everyone knows me by Enna."

"I meant your surnames," Peter said. "The Nymrunians' names hold no consequence or negativity to them…but you and Aramir…I do not doubt that you will decide to stay in Narnia for longer than the Nymrunians."

Enna considered this. She hated the fact that she and Sabsestrin shared such a physical thing as a name, and whenever she was referred to as a Stalresin, it pained her as though it were the harshest epithet.

"I will gladly do so, sire," said Aramir. "It is with a light heart that I discard 'Minodaurus,' and with it all relation to the brother I am so ashamed of."

"I…" Enna faltered. Her last name was also the last tie she held with her beloved father and mother…but the consequences of keeping such a shallow thing far outweighed the benefits. "I also agree. Though…I know no Narnian names to replace mine with."

Peter put a hand on her shoulder, and then the other on Aramir's. "Then I shall name you both." He paused in thought. "Enna, you have told me that 'Stalresin' means 'strong spirit' in the ancient tongue. Therefore, I will give you a Narnian name that pays homage to the truth in your name. You shall be henceforth known as Enwynna Aldenthew—'strongest of heart'."

Enna mulled over the name in her head. It wasn't so terrible, Aldenthew, and it did sound very Narnian. Enna Aldenthew. Yes, I can claim that as my own…

"Aramir," Peter continued, "you shall be known as Aramir Ealion: 'wisest friend'."

Aramir's shoulders went back and he straightened proudly.

Peter took a deep breath. "I, High King Peter, Emperor of the Lone Islands, Lord of Cair Paravel, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, hereby pronounce you, Enwynna Aldenthew and Aramir Ealion, citizens of the most blessed kingdom of Narnia, in the name of the Lion. You shall take on all the rights and freedoms that are afforded to such citizens; you shall also swear fealty to her good and just rulers and abide by her laws. May it be thus now, henceforth, and forever more."

He removed his hands from their shoulders, smiling almost despite himself. "Welcome home, my friends."