Author's Note: *sigh* Here's another update for you, but I really need to do more to control either my muse or these characters…they keep running away from me, and now that I'm not sick anymore, I have to chase them. Not that I particularly mind, but it's so much fun to tease them…*shakes head* Don't mind me, I'm strange.

Chapter Ten: "…what dreams may come?"

They walked for the rest of the day, heading steadily east towards Aslan's How. All four of the Pevensies were curious to know what this refuge was, and why it was considered so important to the Narnians. The area they were walking through didn't seem to be strategically important in any way, but now that they were away from the river, both Edmund and Peter were having some difficulty mapping their location in their minds and trying to remember what was around them that could be considered strategic.

They had skirted the woods that surrounded the Dancing Lawn before moving out into a mostly clear area free of the woods for several hours before Trumpkin led them back into the woods again. The trees continued to loom over them, still and silent, and now that they knew the reason for the trees' silence, the Pevensies wanted more than ever to restore Narnia to the way that they remembered it.

Lucy was walking beside Peter, just behind Trumpkin and still looking around at the trees. She looked up at her older brother. "Peter, did we cause this?"

Peter looked down at her and frowned. "What do you mean, Lu?"

"If we'd still been here, if we hadn't gone hunting for the White Stag…could we have stopped the Telmarines? Could we have prevented this?" Lucy asked, her voice subdued, but desperately wanting reassurance.

Peter drew her to a stop and knelt down so that he could meet her eyes directly. Edmund and Susan came to a stop just behind them and listened as Peter answered. "This isn't our fault, Lucy. If we had known what would have happened, we never would have gone after the Stag. If we had known there was a threat from the Telmarines, we would have had some sort of plan in place to counter their initial invasion. There was no way we could have known what going after the Stag would do."

Lucy looked close to tears as Trumpkin realized that they were no longer behind him and turned around, moving back to rejoin them. "But it's so silent…how could Aslan have let this happen?"

"Aslan?" Trumpkin asked, overhearing the youngest Queen's question. "Thought he abandoned us when you lot did. There's been no sign of him despite the hopes of all the others who believed he would come and help us route the Telmarines during the initial invasion and rebellion."

"Aslan wouldn't abandon Narnia," Peter replied. "Whatever reason he has for not assisting, it will turn out to be for Narnia's greater good." He looked back at Lucy and smiled at her in encouragement. "We'll do what we can, and we'll put the rest in Aslan's paws. Whatever plan he has for us, I have no doubt that it will unfold as it should."

Lucy returned his smile with a wavering one of her own, before flinging her arms around her brother's neck and burying her face in his neck. He held her and gently rubbed her back until he felt her pulling back. She straightened up and wiped at the last few traces of tears on her cheeks. "Thanks, Peter," she whispered softly. "I shouldn't have doubted Aslan. He always has our best interests at heart."

Peter reached out and gently tweaked her nose, drawing a small smile and a soft giggle out of her. "All better now?" he asked.

Lucy nodded, and Peter rose to his feet. "Let's press on then," the High King said, turning back to Trumpkin. "The Narnians will need us."

Trumpkin only nodded and started off again, leading them towards Aslan's How and the waiting Narnians.

"How are we going to get across this?" Peter asked, looking down at a gorge that cut across their path. Far at the bottom was a swift-moving, shallow stream that flowed towards the River. He looked to Trumpkin. "That little stream cut this huge gorge in twenty-five years?"

Trumpkin shook his head. "About ten years ago there was a shaking in the earth. It was relatively minor, but it caused the gorge to deepen dramatically, and it made the stream flow faster than it had. There used to be a natural bridge that spanned the gorge, but two years ago the winter rains and the snow storms were devastating to this area, and the bridge collapsed. Most people cut through the Dancing Lawn to bypass this area these days."

Peter sighed at the thought of yet another detour and delay. "Is there no other way that won't require us to backtrack almost a full day?" he asked.

Trumpkin frowned in thought while the others moved closer to the edge of the gorge to study the river or to look and see if there was a trail down.

Lucy, however, gazed across the gorge as the others began to talk quietly among themselves. "Aslan?"

The sound of the Lion's name caught the attention of the others as Lucy spun around and pointed across the gorge. "It's Aslan! It's Aslan over there! Don't you see? He's right…there…" the younger Queen's voice trailed off as she realized that the great Lion was no longer in sight.

Peter and the others were following her gaze, but there was no one on the far side of the gorge. Trumpkin looked skeptical. "Do you see him now?"

Lucy turned a fearsome glare on the dwarf. "I'm not crazy. He was there. He wanted us to follow him."

Peter looked thoughtful and Susan and Edmund both looked between their older and younger siblings, waiting for Peter's decision. Peter looked down at Lucy for a moment. "Where did he want us to follow him to?"

Lucy hesitated for a moment as she studied the landscape, trying to figure out how to get them across the gorge to where Aslan was. "I'm not sure, but he was definitely indicating that he wanted us to follow him."

"Look, I'm not about to jump off a cliff after someone who doesn't exist," Trumpkin stated sardonically. "There are a lot of lions in these woods."

Edmund turned to Trumpkin. "The last time I didn't believe Lucy, I ended up looking pretty stupid. Lucy has always had a strong connection with Aslan. If she says he was there, I say that we need to trust her, and trust Aslan."

Peter was still weighing their options in his mind. They needed to get across the gorge, and he was not keen on the idea of back-tracking all the way to the Dancing Lawn and then cutting through the woods again. There were too many possibilities that something could go wrong, and they were not armed. Lucy has never been wrong before where Aslan is concerned, he reminded himself, thinking of all the times that Lucy's faith in the great Lion had paid off.

Unbidden, Lucy's words to him on the train came back into the forefront of his mind. "You claim to trust Aslan and to believe in the plan he has for us, but you spend all your time alone. We had to work together to beat Jadis and to rule as well as we did. All you need is faith in Aslan, and us. I trust Aslan, Peter. He won't abandon us. He has some purpose for us being here, and then we'll go back to Narnia. We're the Kings and Queens. We have to return, but you have to have faith, Peter. Don't just say it. Live it."

"All right, Lucy. I don't know why he wouldn't show himself to all of us, but if you say that he was there, I believe you," Peter said softly, smiling down at his sister.

"So do I," Susan echoed, and Edmund stepped forward and rested his hand gently on his younger sister's shoulder, in clear agreement with her. All four royals turned to look at Trumpkin, who still looked uncertain, but finally shrugged.

"Where did you see him?" Peter asked gently.

Lucy stepped closer to the edge of the gorge, and Peter stepped close behind her, ready to catch her if she slipped. "It was right about…" she stepped closer, before suddenly plummeting downward, a sharp scream torn from her throat as the ground gave way beneath her.

Peter lunged forward as soon as she started to fall. He grabbed her arm and tried to catch her, but, small as she was, her weight was still enough to throw him off balance, and he felt himself tumbling forward as she continued to fall.

"Lucy! Peter!" Susan and Edmund cried as they disappeared from sight.

Their fall was abruptly cut off by a ledge that had been hidden from their view due to a rocky outcropping. Lucy hit the ground on her rear, and Peter landed on his stomach next to her, his gut impacting with a rock and driving the breath out of him with a whoosh.

Lucy looked up at Edmund, Susan, and Trumpkin, who were all peering down at her from the edge of the upper level. "…here," she finished with a wry tone in her voice.

"Are you two all right?" Edmund asked.

Lucy nodded. "I'm all right." She looked over at Peter, who was wheezing as he tried to suck in a breath. "Peter? Are you all right?"

Peter couldn't answer at first. The rock he had impacted had driven all the breath out of him and he was having difficulty regaining it. He managed to roll off of the rock, despite the sharp pain that jarred through him at the motion. He had no doubt that he'd have a bruise across his mid-section by the end of the day.

"Peter?" Lucy asked, a note of concern in her voice when Peter didn't respond right away. She leaned over so that he could see her, since he was lying on his back looking up at the rock above him. "Are you all right?" she repeated.

Peter held up a hand to push her back and nodded, finally managing to get control of his breath. He coughed several times before he nodded again. "I'm fine, Lu. Just had the wind knocked out of me."

Lucy smiled in relief. "I'm glad. You scared me for a minute."

"Sorry," Peter answered. "You scared me when the ground gave way." He sat up, slowly, hiding the wince at the pain. Definitely going to have a bruise, he thought. "Well, it looks like you were right," he added, looking at the path that was cut into the side of the gorge, the path that had previously been hidden by the ledge the others were still standing on. He rose to his feet and pulled Lucy upright so that Edmund, Susan, and Trumpkin could make their way down onto the path without slipping.

"Lead the way, Lu," Edmund told his little sister. "You're the one who saw Aslan."

Lucy began picking her way carefully down the path, which was overgrown and somewhat slick. Peter was right behind her, ready to steady her if she slipped. The other three followed carefully, putting enough distance between them so that if one of them slipped, they wouldn't take the whole column with them.

They reached the stream, which was flowing quite swiftly. Lucy led them along the streambed until they reached a place where there was a natural bridge of stepping stones leading across the river. Lucy started across and the others followed. Wherever Aslan wanted them to be, it was obvious that Lucy was trying to do her best to get them there.

Once they were across the stream, Lucy turned to Trumpkin. "Do you know how to get back up to the top of the gorge?"

Trumpkin looked around and after a moment, he nodded and began to lead them back upstream. They walked a short distance before they found another path leading up to the top of the gorge. Trumpkin led the way up the path, and a short time later they were standing at the top on the opposite side of the gorge.

"It's not too much further now," Trumpkin said, leading them on again. "I don't know if we'll make it before nightfall though. Do you want to stop tonight, or do you want to press on to the How?"

Peter considered. While his preference would be to keep going and to reach safety that much sooner, he knew it wasn't safe to travel by night, especially if the Telmarines were looking for their missing prince. "Let's get as far as we can before we have to stop," he finally said. "Maybe, with Aslan's grace, we'll make it to the How before nightfall."

Trumpkin nodded and set off again, the four royals trailing him.

Unfortunately for Peter, they didn't make it to the How before the sunset.

Trumpkin led them to a small grove among the trees and they set camp there. Edmund and Peter found enough small stones to make a fire ring while the girls gathered firewood. Trumpkin disappeared into the trees and came back a short time later with two small rabbits.

Peter frowned deeply at the dwarf until Trumpkin reassured him that they were not Talking rabbits. Peter sighed, but didn't protest as Trumpkin began skinning them with a small dagger he produced from inside his boot. While the Talking Animals were off limits as prey of any kind, not all the Animals had been given the gift of speech by Aslan, and those were fair game to the Narnians, who had to eat.

Before long, they were sitting down to a hot meal over the fire. Conversation was almost non-existent, as the Pevensies thought about everything that had happened to their beloved kingdom during their absence. Finally, Edmund broached the silence.

"Trumpkin, do you know what exactly was happening in Archenland that kept them from coming to assist Narnia during the invasion? Before we left, we'd just helped them repel an invasion by Prince Rabadash, who was unable to leave Tashbaan afterwards, thanks to Aslan."

Trumpkin shrugged. "Don't know for sure, but I don't believe that Prince Rabadash had anything to do with it."

Peter sighed. "I have trouble believing that the Telmarines just happened to attack at the same time as Calormen, but I also know that Calormen would never work with anyone else, especially if it would give anyone else Narnia."

Lucy looked at her brother. "It really could just be a coincidence, Peter."

Peter looked back at Lucy levelly. "Maybe, Lu. I just don't believe it. It's too convienient that Calormen would attack Narnia's closest allies at the same time that Narnia herself is under attack."

Susan shrugged, drawing Peter's gaze. "Maybe it is convienient Peter, but does it really matter? Whatever the reason for Calormen choosing that moment to attack, it doesn't change the fact that they did and that it kept Archenland from sending reinforcements to help Narnia against the Telmarines. What's done is done. All we can do is try to put things back to rights and try to see that this doesn't happen again."

Peter was quiet for a short time before he finally sighed. "You're right, Susan. Whatever caused it, it must have been in Aslan's plans, or he would have stopped it." All four of the High King's companions sensed that he was still deeply troubled by the implications of Calormen's involvement in Narnia's fall, however indirectly it had come about.

Lucy scooted over to sit next to her brother and leaned her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "It'll be all right Peter. We'll set things right, somehow."

"I know, Lucy," Peter murmured as he leaned into her embrace.

The group sat in silence for a while before Trumpkin cleared his throat, somewhat awkwardly. "We'll have another long walk tomorrow. I suggest that everyone get some sleep. We should be safe enough here."

"That's probably sound advice, good Trumpkin," Peter said, raising his head and looking at the dwarf. "But we should probably set a watch, just to be on the safe side."

"I'll take the first watch, Peter," Edmund said before Peter could volunteer himself for the first watch. "We'll need you at the top of your game tomorrow when we meet up with the rest of the Narnians."

"I'll take second watch," Susan volunteered, and before Peter could say anything, Trumpkin volunteered to take the last watch. Peter bristled and was about to say something before Lucy poked him in the side.

"Don't argue Peter. Edmund's right. We'll need you tomorrow, and you can't do that if you're exhausted. I'm sure there will be plenty of sleepless nights in our near future while we try to fix things," the youngest Queen chided gently. "Take what rest you can get while it's offered."

Peter glanced down at his younger sister before looking at his other two siblings. He opened his mouth to say something, but Edmund beat him to it.

"Good night, Peter," the younger King said saucily.

Peter grumbled but saw that he wasn't going to win the debate that night. After leaning over and kissing each of his siblings good night, he pulled off his jacket and rolled it up to use as a makeshift pillow. He heard the others settling down for the night and he could see Edmund turning so that his back was to the fire and his gaze on the trees around him.

A noise woke Peter from his sleep. He rolled over and saw Trumpkin sitting where he had last seen Edmund. The dwarf was keeping a careful eye on the woods around them, although he did look up when Peter sat up.

"Anything?" Peter whispered, so as not to wake up his siblings. Trumpkin shook his head and Peter indicated that he was going to step outside of the camp for a few minutes. Trumpkin nodded, and Peter rose to his feet and headed off into the trees to relieve the call of nature.

As he was heading back towards camp to get the others, the sound of a twig breaking off to his right caught his attention and he froze. He let his breath out slowly and twisted on the balls of his feet in order to keep his movements quiet.

A flash of gold caught his attention, and something about that flash was familiar and drew him forward. He stepped lightly over the leaves, drawing on everything that Oreius had ever taught him about moving silently, and he followed the glint of gold that kept appearing among the trees.

He approached a spot where the almost-hidden game trail he was following moved between two small rocky outcroppings. He paused as he reached the outcroppings, wondering if he should continue to follow the flash of gold, or if he should go back and get the others first.

He hesitated another moment, before deciding that it would be safer to go back for the others, since he was unarmed. Even though none of them had weapons except for Trumpkin's tiny knife, if they had strength in numbers they might be able to fight off any danger.

He started to turn to head back to the camp when a soft growl caught his attention and he paused again. There was something familiar about that growl, and for some reason, it didn't strike him as threatening.

"Peter?"

That voice, Peter thought turning back in the direction of the voice. It wasn't one of his siblings, but it was familiar to him. It can't possibly be…

"Peter? Is that you?"

"Krisalyn?" he breathed, moving forward, hardly daring to hope. He moved past the outcroppings and continued to follow the voice, until he came to a place where a small cluster of white birch trees stood in the early morning sun.

"Krisalyn?" he called softly, noticing that the glint of gold had faded and the voice could no longer be heard. He wondered if he had been dreaming. I need to get over this, he told himself firmly. I need to stop imagining that I can turn the corner and Kris will be there.

"Peter."

This voice was not female at all, but it was also familiar. Peter stepped forward several paces and peered among the branches of the birch trees as the soft growling sounded again. A moment later, he saw the glint of gold again and continued to walk forward through the birch trees.

A moment later, he could see what was causing the glint of gold and he sucked in a surprised breath. He knelt swiftly. "Aslan."

The great lion paced gravely forward and stopped in front of Peter. "Rise, High King."

Peter immediately rose to his feet at the gentle command. He looked at the warm, wise eyes and for a moment felt tears coming into his own. There was so much love, strength, and faith in Aslan's eyes…in that moment, thinking back on his recent behavior, Peter felt completely inadequate and inferior, both as High King of Narnia, and as Peter Pevensie. What would Aslan say about his recent behavior towards his siblings or the fight with Art in the train station? He had no doubt that Aslan knew all of it, somehow. The power in the lion's eyes…they seemed to weigh and measure him, to see right into his soul and know everything that had happened since Peter had last been in Narnia.

Aslan blinked, and the spell was broken. The great lion stood there, but now his eyes were welcoming and Peter couldn't resist any longer. He stepped forward and flung his arms around Aslan's neck and buried his face in the soft, golden mane. "Forgive me, Aslan," he whispered into the lion's neck before he straightened and met the golden eyes again.

"What have you done that you need my forgiveness, Peter?" the great lion asked calmly, sitting back and regarding Peter.

Peter didn't feel right standing in front of Aslan, so he dropped back to his knees again, placing his head below the lion's (which was only appropriate, since Aslan was King above all Kings). "I lost faith in you, Aslan, and in your wisdom. I have not acted with the dignity and attitude of the High King since our return to England," he answered softly. "I was so distraught over losing Krisalyn that I was rude to my family and to the people around me. It was a poor excuse for my behavior, and I have not been the High King that Narnia deserves."

Aslan regarded the High King with eyes filled with love. "What you say is true," the great lion responded after a moment, though there was not a single note of scorn or chiding in the rumbling voice. "However, I do understand and forgive you, Peter. Your actions are past, and you have come to admit and accept what you have done wrong, and you show maturity in being able to ask for my forgiveness, thus I grant it."

Rising to his feet, Aslan paced forward until he stood directly in front of Peter. Bending his great head, he opened his mouth and lightly breathed on Peter, the warm breath sending stands of blonde hair flying around his face as he pressed his tongue to Peter's forehead in a gentle kiss.

Peter bowed his head, fighting back tears. "Thank you, Aslan," he whispered, feeling as if he couldn't look at the lion until he had his emotions under control again. However, that chance was quickly yanked out from under him.

"Peter?"

Peter's head shot up and he looked past Aslan, to the figure that was weaving lightly between the white birch trees. Long black hair gleamed in the sunlight coming through the trees, and before Peter could stop himself (not that he particularly wanted to) he was on his feet and had shot past Aslan to catch his beloved wife up in his arms.

For long moments, all he could do was hold her in his arms and revel in the feeling of being with her again. Though it had only been four months for him (the single longest separation that they had experienced), it had been the hardest four months of his life, and he couldn't imagine what she had gone through since time flowed so differently in Narnia.

Finally he pulled back just enough to tip her chin up so that he could lean down and press a gentle kiss to her lips. Gentle it might have been, but he poured all of his loneliness, anger, joy, pain, and relief into it, and felt her returning it measure for measure. Finally, he broke the kiss and they both gasped for air, but Peter didn't release his wife. Instead he tucked her head underneath his chin and ran his hand over her hair, feeling the black tresses caressing his fingers.

"Oh, Kris," he murmured softy, unable to say anything else, so relieved was he to have her in his arms again.

"Peter," she breathed, her voice equally as soft. "I knew you'd return."

"I promised I would never leave you, Kris, and that I would always come for you. I'm sorry for what happened," he whispered, resting his face against the top of her head.

"I know," she replied softly.

"Forgive me?" he asked, desperately needing to know that she wasn't angry with him for his (inadvertent) abandonment of her.

She pushed away from him, just enough that she could look him directly in the face. She opened her mouth to speak…

…when the crack of a twig beneath a foot sounded. Peter's head whipped around, looking for the intruder…

Peter's eyes shot open and he sat up abruptly.

He was sitting on the ground near a burned-out fire, his siblings sound asleep around him, and Trumpkin sitting up on watch. The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky, and through the trees above his head, Peter could see that the moon had yet to descend below the horizon.

Peter sat there for a moment, blinking with disorientation, as Trumpkin looked at him, wondering at his sudden alertness. After a long moment, Peter sighed heavily and lay back down. It would soon be time to wake the others, but Peter knew they wouldn't start walking until the sun had fully risen, so there was no point in waking them just yet.

It was just a dream…he thought mournfully, and closed his eyes against the tears that threatened. Why…oh, why couldn't it have been real? Why couldn't he truly have been reunited with Kris? Seen Aslan and received his forgiveness? Why did it only have to be a dream?

After a short time, he realized that he should have known it was a dream right away. Kris had not aged in the dream, and that should have been his first clue. His wife was many things, but eternally young was not one of them, and it had been twenty-five years in Narnian time since he had last seen her.

Oh, Aslan…how much longer must I wait? I have tried to keep Narnia first in my heart and mind, for you taught me to love her…but you also gave me permission to love Krisalyn when you bound us in marriage…why must I choose between the two loves? Peter wondered, for once tired of always having to put Narnia's needs before his own, and then feeling instantly guilty for such a thought. He had understood, from the moment that Aslan told him that he would sit on the throne of Cair Paravel as High King, that his responsibility would always be first to Narnia, then to his family, and only then to himself.

When he and Krisalyn had wed, yet another responsibility had been added onto his shoulders, but it was one that he had taken on gladly, that of protecting and loving his wife. In return, she had taken on an equal burden of loving and supporting him, and due to the nature of their relationship and their love, his responsibilities had shifted so that now Narnia came first, followed by Krisalyn (and later the baby she had carried), then his siblings, and finally to himself.

Normally, this was not difficult for Peter, because his love for his country, his wife and child, and his siblings was so great. It was easy to set aside his own needs, because he knew that his family would do everything in their power to support him as he supported them. The only time it had truly been difficult to choose had been during those difficult days after Krisalyn had miscarried, and he had had his siblings' help in getting through it.

But now…after everything that had happened in recent months, after the dream…all the building hope, longing, and pain over what had happened to his beloved country, Peter was finding it difficult to remain objective. That realization hurt, like a stabbing pain in his heart. He, who was always so careful to put his duties ahead of his own needs…he was tired. And it hurt.

Peter sighed and rested his arm over his eyes, blocking out the rising sun. He was tired of the emotional pain that he had been living through for so long. It was a burden that had been weighing him down and affecting his close relationship with his siblings. He had apologized, and they had forgiven, but…and it might be his own sense of pride talking…but it wasn't enough. He was used to being the strong one, the leader, and he had been actively relying more on siblings since their return to Narnia than he had in years.

A small gasp and the sound of rustling beside him made him shift his arm off of his eyes to see Lucy sitting upright and looking about, slightly bewildered and confused. "Lu?" he called softly, so as not to wake Edmund or Susan, who were still deeply asleep. "What is it?"

Lucy blinked at him, confused for a moment before her face cleared. As Peter sat up, slowly, she moved around the circle to sit beside him. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

"I dreamed about Aslan, Peter," Lucy finally said, her voice quiet so as not to wake the other two. "I heard him calling me, and – in the dream – I got up and I walked among the trees. As I walked, they started to wake and they began to dance around me."

Peter smiled at the picture she painted with her words. His sister had always had a deep connection with the Dryads, and the trees often danced when she was around. He had no doubt that – like his own dream – it had been something familiar and comforting, and she had needed that as much as he had. "What happened then, Lu?" he asked.

"I came to a stand of white birch trees," she replied, and for a moment, he tensed, remembering the setting of his own dream. She felt his tension and looked up at him, puzzled, but only indicated for her to continue. "They were grouped together, but as I watched, they slowly parted and formed a passage for me to walk between them. Aslan's voice kept calling me, so I followed it, until I came to a small clearing just beyond the birches. Everything was bright and clean, and the sun was pouring through the trees."

She sighed, as if remembering something pleasant. "Aslan was standing there, on a small knoll, waiting for me."

"Aslan!" Lucy breathed, racing across the forest floor to the knoll and right up to Aslan. She didn't pause, but threw her arms around the great lion and hugged him, kissing his face and burying her own face in his mane as his warm breath surrounded her and his voice rumbled in a loving chuckle.

"I've missed you so much," she told him, pulling back so she could look into his eyes, the fingers of one hand still tangled in his mane. "You've grown."

"Every year you grow, so shall I," he told her, a warm smile on his face.

She returned the smile before growing more serious. "Where have you been? Why haven't you come to help us?"

"Things never happen the same way twice, dear one," he replied softly, his warm golden eyes growing more solemn, with a hint of sadness in them.

"Aslan, could we have stopped this? Peter, Susan, Edmund, and I…could we have prevented all this if things had been different?"

"Some things are simply meant to be, and we can never know what might have happened," the great Lion replied softly.

Lucy was about to say something else, when the sound of a twig cracking was heard. She whipped around to look...

"…and suddenly, I was awake, looking over at Susan," the youngest Queen finished. "I don't know why I dreamed that, but it was so real, Peter."

Peter hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. "I know, Lucy. I dreamed about him too…and about Krisalyn."

Lucy looked interested, so Peter quietly related his dream to her, including the part where he had asked Aslan's forgiveness and received it. It was somewhat embarrassing to reveal how guilty he had felt to his little sister, who was used to seeing him as a leader, but he knew that she would understand. For all the fact that Susan was called the Gentle, there was quite a bit of gentleness and empathy in Lucy as well.

"Peter…you have nothing to feel guilty for," Lucy told him quietly, snuggling closer to her older brother. "It wasn't your fault that we left Narnia. You didn't break your promise to Krisalyn…and as soon as the situation is resolved with the Telmarines, we'll help you find her."

"Thank you, Lucy," he told her quietly, but sincerely. He simply held her and they sat in silence for another few minutes before he finally released her. "Come on. Let's wake the others so we can get started. I'll feel a lot better when we're in a place that is defensible. I don't like not having Rhindon with me."

Lucy nodded, and they rose together and turned their attention to waking up their siblings, unaware that Trumpkin had been listening to the entire conversation and was now watching the oldest and youngest monarchs intently.

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