Ok, I think this might be the single longest chapter to date...my characters just wouldn't let me stop writing! They just ran away with me. *looks at her poor, sore fingers* Please review so that I know this is all worth it!

Oh, and there's another little twist here for you, my loyal readers!

Chapter 11: Aslan's How

Edmund and Susan were not pleased to be woken so early, especially after the previous day's long walk. However, when they saw the looks on their siblings' faces, they rose, amid a great deal of grumbling and moaning about the earliness of the hour. Trumpkin watched with interest as the four monarchs drew themselves from the last traces of slumber and prepared to continue their journey.

Susan grumbled about having to wear her school uniform for yet another day. Peter looked at his siblings before glancing down at himself and he had to admit that they all looked rather battered and their once-pristine school uniforms were now in very sad shape. It's not surprising that Trumpkin didn't believe that we are Narnia's monarchs, looking the way we do, he thought wryly. Well, once we reach the Narnians, hopefully there will be something that we can do to refresh ourselves, and perhaps some clean clothing as well.

As the mutters and good-natured complaints from his siblings died down, Peter looked at his siblings, knowing that his silence and his raised eyebrows asked his question for him, without him having to speak a word. It was a useful skill that came from ruling Narnia together closely for fifteen years. A gesture or a look could convey an entire conversation between the four of them, and they were all adept at reading the others' expressions. The closeness of their bond only helped that skill, and Peter knew that his siblings knew exactly what he was asking them.

One by one he received a slow nod and a smile or blink of the eye that gave him his answer. Peter turned to Trumpkin and looked at the Dwarf. "Lead on, good Trumpkin," the High King bid.

Trumpkin nodded and proceeded to lead the four royals out of the camp and along a nearly-invisible game trail. A few minutes out of the grove and the going became more difficult as the trail twisted and curved around small knolls, rocky outcroppings, and narrow "canyons" comprised of two outcroppings rising up next to each other, with a tiny path between them. The small group's pace slowed to a crawl as they picked their way along the trail. Trumpkin assured them that even at their current pace they would reach Aslan's How by mid-day, or shortly thereafter.

After a few hours walking, they passed through the rocky terrain and the ground leveled out. They were able to pick up their pace and make up some of the time that had been lost that morning. They walked in silence today, all of them aware that the Telmarines could be out looking for their prince, and that their luck of having been unassailed thus far could easily run out at any time. Peter led his siblings, following Trumpkin, while Edmund brought up the rear.

Near mid-morning, Trumpkin called a halt near a small, swift running stream that fed into a tiny pool near a grove of oak trees before continuing on it's way back towards the Great River. He looked around at their surroundings and seemed to be doing some mental calculations before nodding in satisfaction. He turned to Peter. "Another hour or two at this pace and we should reach the How."

Peter smiled gratefully at the dwarf and sat down on a log to rest his legs while the girls stepped over to the stream and took quick drinks and Edmund took a long look around. There was an odd look on Edmund's face, as if he was trying to place a long-forgotten memory. Peter frowned at his brother. "Edmund? Is something wrong?"

The younger King blinked and shook his head. "No, not really, Pete. Just a feeling that I should recognize this place, but I don't." He shrugged. "It's not important." He took a moment to stretch his arms and back before moving to sit next to Peter on the log, who obligingly scooted over to give him room.

"Are you, sure, Ed?" Peter asked softly, turning to look at Edmund, who still wore that puzzled, slightly intense look on his face.

Edmund smiled at his brother and the look faded. "I'm sure, Peter. It'll probably come to me later, it's just that feeling of knowing you forgot something, but you can't remember what it is that you forgot."

Peter knew that feeling all too well, so he nodded and dropped the subject. He also took the opportunity to stretch as their sisters came back over from the stream and sat down on another nearby log.

"Trumpkin," Susan began after a moment. The dwarf looked over at the older Queen, who waited until she had his attention. "You mentioned that this How was where the Narnians go in times of trouble, but you haven't really explained much about it to us, except that Mr. Tumnus suggested that it be built and that it is defensible."

The dwarf nodded. "Actually, it dates back a little further than that," he said. "Faun Tumnus suggested that it be constructed not long after you disappeared from Narnia. He felt that it was important that there be a place where the Narnians could go in times of trouble, either as a rallying point, or for an evacuation, if necessary. It's close enough to Cair Paravel that messages could be easily relayed, and, as I mentioned, it's quite defensible. Tumnus never could explain why he felt it was necessary, but the Queen and the rest of the Council – so the stories say – believed his argument and ordered the work to begin."

Lucy smiled at that, thinking of her best and first friend in Narnia. After the battle with the Witch, Tumnus had been appointed to their Council, and though there had been some skepticism and wariness at first, since he had been in the pay of the Witch, Lucy's steadfast defense of him, and the trust that the other monarchs offered, went a long way to easing the tension his presence caused. As he proved himself to be loyal to the new monarchs, the last of the suspicion had faded.

"At any rate, it wasn't long after the How's construction was complete that definitive word reached Cair Paravel about the invasion," Trumpkin continued. "The army was called up, and anyone in the path of the invading force retreated to the How. The last order issued by Queen Krisalyn before the army was defeated and Cair Paravel fell was that if any Narnian felt that there was great danger, they were to send messages out via the birds, and the Narnians were to rally at the How."

"But Krisalyn never showed up at the How?" Peter asked softly, fear clenching his heart.

Trumpkin shook his head. "I'm afraid not. My father was one of those who went to the How, and he said that the Narnians waited at the How for some time after Cair Paravel fell, since it was being used as the base of operations for the ambushes being run on the Telmarines when they ventured into the forest. Her Majesty never arrived at the How. Some said that she hadn't made it out past the Telmarines that laid siege to the castle and was captured. Others said that she had been killed, although most doubt that story. The general consensus is that she made it safely out and fled to Archenland in the hopes that she could convince them to send aid, despite the threat posed by the Calormens."

"But no word has come from her?" Peter asked, feeling his hopes fade a little bit. Krisalyn loved Narnia, and she had sworn to always stand and defend the country that had become hers when she married Peter. He couldn't believe that she would simply have abandoned Narnia and left them without word.

Trumpkin shook his head silently, but Peter could see a hint of compassion in his eyes. Whether or not Trumpkin consciously believed that Peter was the High King and that Krisalyn was his wife, Peter knew that in his heart, Trumpkin knew the truth and he sympathized with Peter, although he would never show it outwardly or speak of it.

They sat quietly for a few more minutes before Trumpkin heaved himself to his feet and indicated that they should continue on their journey. Peter and Edmund rose to their feet and stepped over to help Susan and Lucy up. The two girls accepted the help – though they didn't really need it – and they started out on their way again. This would hopefully be the last stretch before they reached their destination. Then…then they could begin restoring Narnia to her former glory.

Peter stood at the edge of the clearing for a long moment, his siblings pressed close to him as they looked at what was just ahead of them.

In the center of the clearing, surrounded by a circle of tall standing stones, was a massive stone block, supported by four thick, upright blocks. Now, however, the massive block lay at an odd angle, broken completely in half and incapable of distributing its weight evenly over the supporting stones. What remained of tightly twisted ropes and cords could still be seen lying across the Table.

Peter took a deep breath and began to walk up the stone walkway that led to the Stone Table. As he walked, his hand unconsciously drifted to rest on Rhindon's hilt, and the closer they came, the tighter he gripped the sword, the power of the Table, broken as it was, still lingering in the air and affecting all of them.

It had taken a great deal of convincing before Oreius had agreed to wait with the rest of the royal guard back at the place where their camp had been pitched. The four monarchs had wanted – needed – to visit this place alone. All four of them were alert for danger, although they felt that there was little risk. This was the place of Aslan's great triumph, and what he had accomplished here had purged the dark aura that had – according to Oreius – surrounded the Stone as a result of all the sacrifices that had been made at this place in the years since Narnia's creation. Any Fell Creatures who still lingered would not be able to stand being in this place where the evidence of Aslan's power was so great.

They approached the Table and simply stood there, looking down at it, feeling the lingering aura of Aslan's power that still surrounded the silent clearing. It was a humbling experience, and there was something…sacred about being here at this time and place.

Tomorrow was the second anniversary of the battle of Beruna, the date of Narnia's freedom from the terror of the White Witch, and the day that had been unanimously elected the first day of Narnia's new year after the coronation, by popular demand of the Narnians.

Aslan, Susan, and Lucy had not once, in the two years since they had become Kings and Queens of Narnia, said a word about what had happened in this place to Edmund. At the time, they had felt that Edmund still felt guilty about what had happened, and that he didn't need to know every detail of what had occurred the eve before the battle. The message that they had sent had only detailed that something had happened to Aslan and he would not be there to help in the battle. They hadn't wanted Edmund to guess what Aslan's deal with the Witch had been, though Peter had had a pretty good idea when word reached them the morning of the battle. Out of a desire to protect Edmund, he hadn't said anything, although he had demanded the truth from Susan and Lucy much later when Edmund wasn't around.

Now, however, two years later, Edmund had finally put the pieces together and had confronted his siblings over the issue, demanding to know what had really happened. He had paled at the news that Aslan had sacrificed himself for the younger King, but other than that, he had taken the news very well. Two years of being King had gone a long way towards helping Edmund mature, and he was no longer the angry, rash young boy he had been. He could still be reckless at times, especially when one of his siblings was in danger, but for the most part he had steadied and become a King that Aslan could be proud of.

After learning the truth about the deal with the Witch, Edmund had asked if they could go to the Stone Table so he could see it. In two years, he and Peter had not had any reason to go there, so this was the first time they were seeing the massive stone.

Peter felt Edmund tremble slightly where he was pressed against his older brother, and Peter took his free hand and wrapped it around Edmund's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. He thought he knew what his brother was feeling. The idea that Aslan had voluntarily surrendered to the Witch, been tied down to that stone, and had a knife driven through his heart… Edmund had been so close to going through that. The stab of denial and pain that shot through Peter at that thought…it would never happen. Aslan had been the Stone Table's last sacrificial victim.

"Peter?"

Peter blinked and shook himself as Edmund's quiet question jarred him from his memories. He looked over at his brother, who gestured subtly ahead of them with a raised eyebrow. Peter nodded, understanding the message that his brother was sending, and turned to look in the direction they were walking.

Just ahead of them, the trees were thinning to an open, expansive clearing that was ringed by trees. At the far side of the field, just before the forest started again, rose a massive hill-like structure. In front of it was a set of very old ruins, with a paved walkway leading down into the How. Peter studied it, and it didn't take him long to realize that despite the trees and grass that crowned the hill and crept down the sides, it was not in anyway natural.

The hill rose in evenly spaced tiers, with a doorway set back into the main part of the hill, leaving a small ledge that could be used to place archers on. Peter wasn't certain, but from the angle he was looking at, it was possible that a few archers on each tier could feasibly hold off an army, provided they had plenty of arrows. Artificial or not, it was a solid piece of engineering, and looked quite defensible. Peter smiled at the thought that his people – or rather, their people – had constructed this place. It wasn't exactly subtle, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. An enemy would realize that it was well-built and defensible, and it would say something about the Narnians' ingenuity and skills.

Trumpkin led them to the edge of the trees before he paused. Peter and the others drew up alongside of him and looked at him. "What is it, Trumpkin?" Lucy asked quietly.

Trumpkin gestured in the direction of the How. "Sentries. Someone is here."

"That's good, right?" Edmund asked.

"Yes, and no," Trumpkin replied. He seemed to be weighing a decision in his mind, before he turned to Peter. "May I request that you wait here, Majesties? Allow me to go and find out who is in charge and bring them out here to meet you. If the sentries see a small group approaching, especially one with humans in it, they're likely to shoot first and ask questions later."

"That would be bad," Edmund muttered sarcastically.

Peter nodded. "He's got a point. We don't look like the Kings and Queens of Narnia, at least, not what the Narnians will be expecting from us. But they know Trumpkin, and if he can convince others and bring them out here to meet us, we'll be more likely to get a good reception from the others." He nodded to Trumpkin. "Go, good dwarf. We'll wait here for you to return."

Trumpkin nodded and stepped out into the clearing. He started walking across, raising his hand and waving to catch the sentries' attention. When he drew close enough that they could identify him, they waved back. Trumpkin approached the How and disappeared inside the main doorway.

"Now we wait," Peter said quietly, stepping over to a nearby tree and casually leaning against it. "I'm sure it won't take long for Trumpkin to convince anyone that we've come with him." He looked at his siblings, who all nodded in agreement. Whatever the Narnians' personal opinions about the apparent abandonment they had suffered at the hands of their Kings and Queens, none of them had any doubt that the Narnians still had hope that they would return and free them from the Telmarines. That hope had sustained the Narnians during the White Witch's everlasting winter, and Peter was certain that, deeply buried it might be, that hope was still there.

Thinking of the White Witch, however inadvertently, brought Peter's thoughts back to the visit at the Stone Table he had been thinking about before Edmund caught his attention. He wasn't sure why that particular memory had chosen that moment to surface, however. It had been a deeply personal moment for the four of them, not only seeing the Stone Table, but finally hearing the full story of what Susan and Lucy had witnessed the night before the battle.

There had been a lot of tears, a lot of commiserating, and a great deal of old baggage that they had aired that day in front of the Stone Table, but in the end, it had helped to strengthen their already strong bond and helped make them better rulers because they understood each other better and understood where they were all coming from, particularly Edmund, who had still been feeling a great deal of guilt over the whole situation.

Peter sighed quietly to himself so as to not draw his siblings' attention. The entire situation was eating at him, and despite what he had told Lucy, he felt some measure of guilt that they had not been there to help the Narnians repel the Telmarines. After their coronation, there had never been a successful invasion of Narnia before they went back to England. Most of that was thanks to Oreius and his very thorough training of the four of them. On the battlefield, Edmund and Peter had both been a force to be reckoned with, and when Susan and Lucy were factored into that equation as well...

Peter shook his head in remembrance. Susan had become one of the greatest archers that Narnia had, and it was not all due to the bow that Father Christmas had given her, because she had shown equal proficiency with other bows that were used by the army. Lucy had never learned swordplay, but Oreius had taught her well to use her dagger, and she never hesitated to do so when Narnia needed her to.

As for Edmund and Peter himself…they had been a lethal force. They had both become expert swordsmen, as well as superior tacticians under Orieus' tutelage. On the battlefield, neither of them had ever hesitated. They were Narnia's champions, and they held that responsibility among their most important duties. Knowing that they had failed in that duty, however unavoidably or unintentionally, was as painful for Peter as knowing that he had unintentionally abandoned his wife and child.

"Peter."

Edmund reached over and shook his brother's shoulder, again jarring Peter from his thoughts. Peter blinked before focusing his attention on Edmund with a raised eyebrow.

"Trumpkin's coming back," the younger King said, directing Peter's attention back to the How. The dwarf was indeed on his way back, along with a fellow dwarf, this one with black hair and a black beard, and with them was a tall, black centaur with dark skin, whose stride was remarkably checked to accommodate the dwarves' shorter legs. Trumpkin's other companion caused all four monarchs to tense suddenly.

Trumpkin led the other Narnians up to where the four monarchs were waiting, noticing the tension among them immediately. He looked between them, a puzzled look crossing his face before he realized that their attention was focused on his companions. "What is wrong, Majesties?" the dwarf asked, still puzzled.

Peter and Edmund both stepped forward, subtly placing their sisters behind them as they faced the dwarf, centaur, and minotaur. "Will you introduce us to your companions, good Trumpkin?" Peter replied, his voice holding a slight edge to it.

Still confused, Trumpkin nodded. "This is Glenstorm, leader of the centaurs and general of the Narnian army, Asterius, chief of the minotaurs, and Nikabrik of the Black Dwarves. Asterius, Glenstorm, Nikabrik, I would like to present you to High King Peter, Queen Lucy, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy."

The Pevensies nodded, although the Narnians made no reciprocating gesture. Glenstorm shifted his weight and stomped one foreleg. "So you say, Trumpkin. But, pray tell, what evidence do they have to support their claim? I see only four human children. Our Kings and Queens were adults when they disappeared."

"I am afraid that we have no evidence on our persons," Peter replied crisply. "We returned to Narnia in possession of only what we are wearing. We were on our way to Cair Paravel when we met with Trumpkin and he related Narnia's situation to us."

"And you simply expect us to believe you?" Nikabrik asked, derision in his tone. "We already have two humans running about, and we should now welcome four more in?"

Two? Peter wondered to himself. From what he understood from Trumpkin, the only human who should be here was Prince Caspian. If that was the case, who was the second human?

"We have come to aid Narnia," Edmund said, taking his turn at trying to convince the – rightfully – suspicious Narnians of their identities.

"Can you explain how it is that you are younger than you were when you left?" Glenstorm demanded.

"On the day of our disappearance, we were in pursuit of the White Stag when we stumbled back into the passage that brought us here from Spare Oom fifteen years before," Peter replied. "The passage closed behind us, but in Spare Oom, no time had passed since we were called into Narnia, and we found ourselves returned to the same ages that we had been when we first entered Narnia. By the grace of Aslan, we have returned to Narnia in her time of need to aid her and to help restore her to her former glory."

Glenstorm looked skeptical, as did Asterius and Nikabrik. They looked at Trumpkin, who shrugged, not commenting.

"Is there anyone in the How who was at Cair Paravel on the day we were crowned?" Edmund asked. "Surely they would recognize us and verify our claim." He drew himself upright and a cool, regal look entered his eyes. Peter hid a smile. King Edmund the Just had just made an appearance. Edmund, Susan, and Lucy used to tease Peter about the aura that he could give off when he was provoked, but Peter found it very amusing that they all did exactly the same thing, and he personally was of the opinion that Edmund could give off a more intimidating aura than any of them, simply because he always remained calm, even when he was angriest.

"Or perhaps, if any of you have a sword or bow, we could give you a demonstration?" Peter suggested easily, although he too had drawn himself up and was allowing some of his own regal aura to shine through. "We were trained by the centaur general Oreius, and if the Chronicles say anything, they must mention our proficiency in standing as Narnia's champions."

"There will be no need for that," a quiet voice interjected. The tension was suddenly broken as everyone looked for the speaker. It turned out to be a Badger who stood at Glenstorm's feet, studying the four Pevensies.

Trumpkin nodded to acknowledge the Badger. "Your Majesties, I would like to introduce you to Trufflehunter."

Asterius eyed Trufflehunter with a hint of scorn. "How can you verify their claim, Badger?"

"We badgers remember well, where some of you may have forgotten. We do not change as the seasons, and it is through us that Narnia's history has been preserved," the Badger, identified as Trufflehunter replied. "Narnia's history says that the Kings and Queens were four children when they took the throne. High King Peter was described as fair of face and hair, with eyes like the skies. His siblings, according to the Chronicles, were all dark of hair and eye, but equally as fair of face."

Peter tried not to blush as Trufflehunter recited what the Chronicles said about him. He was perfectly well aware of what the scholars and historians had written about he and his siblings, but to have it waved in his face – so to speak – was more than a little embarrassing.

"Furthermore," Trufflehunter continued, not at all phased by the reaction to his statement. "I have seen the portrait that was made of their coronation, and they do resemble the Kings and Queens to a very high degree."

Peter exchanged glances with his siblings. They all remembered that portrait vividly. The Court Artist, a Faun, had sketched the scene the day of the coronation, and later had come to each of them for better sketches of their faces so that the painting could be as detailed as possible without asking them to pose for weeks while it was being painted. When he had revealed the final piece, it had been amazingly life-like, and there was no mistaking their identities. If Trufflehunter had seen that portrait, which was hung in Cair Paravel, he would easily be able to identify them.

"These are the Kings and Queens, returned at last," Trufflehunter finished, bowing low to the four monarchs.

Asterius, Glenstorm, Nikabrik, and Trumpkin exchanged looks, before they also bowed to the Pevensies.

Peter stepped forward and rested a hand on each of their shoulders, indicating that they could rise. Asterius, Trumpkin, Nikabrik, and Trufflehunter did so immediately, but Glenstorm kept his eyes lowered and wouldn't meet the High King's gaze.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," the centaur whispered. "I have treated you ill."

Peter looked over at his siblings and each one shook their heads, small smiles crossing their features. Peter returned the smile, before turning his attention back to Glenstorm. "We took no offense, General," he replied kindly. "We are aware that we do not look the way that anyone would expect us to look. The circumstances of our departing Narnia, and now our return, were not within our control, unfortunately."

Glenstorm finally raised his eyes and locked gazes with Peter. Seeing no sign of rebuke in the High King's face, he straightened and backed off slightly so that he was not looming over his King. "It is well that you have returned, my liege," he said quietly. "Narnia has prayed for this day."

Peter looked at the group. "You are not what we expected either," he said, his eyes fixed on Asterius.

"A common enemy unites even the oldest of foes," Trufflehunter pointed out quietly.

Peter laughed. "Very true, good Badger. Very true." He gestured towards the How. "Shall we?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," Glenstorm replied, turning and signaling to the sentries. The entire group headed towards the How, hurrying across the open field.

Trumpkin, Nikabrik, and Trufflehunter dropped back behind the Pevensies to talk, wanting to find out what had happened since they last saw Trumpkin, and to find out how he discovered Narnia's monarchs. Trumpkin related the story briefly and gruffly.

"So, what are they like?" Trufflehunter asked softly, unaware that the four monarchs could hear them clearly, since they were walking behind the Pevensies.

"Malcontents, complainers, stubborn as mules in the morning," the Red Dwarf replied.

"Oh, so you like them then," Nikabrik jibed.

Trumpkin was silent for a moment. "Well enough."

Lucy glanced over at Peter and both of them were forced to conceal their laughter as they crossed the field and approached the ruins. A stone pathway led down into the How, and as they approached, a group of centaurs emerged from inside the How, paced forward, and lined up on either side of the path. At a signal from Glenstorm, who joined the end of the line, all of the centaurs pulled out their swords and saluted their monarchs, before raising the blades to form an archway for the Pevensies to walk under.

Peter glanced at his siblings and they lined up. Lucy stood at one end, with Peter next to her. Next to Peter was Susan, and then Edmund. They exchanged glances, before stepping forward, matching their strides and moving down the walkway beneath the arch of swords.

They had reached their destination. Now the real work would begin.

The How was not what any of them had expected. In the first chamber, a forge had been set up and many of the Dwarves were hard at work crafting swords and armor for the various Narnians that had been assembled. In other rooms that branched off from the main chamber, other Narnians were at work fletching arrows, or stocking food and medical supplies.

"How long did it take to build all of this?" Lucy asked in amazement.

"This cave system was already here when the How was constructed, my Queen," Trufflehunter replied. "Since we have arrived, we have focused our efforts on provisioning the army and setting up reliable ways to send messages to the Narnians who have not assembled here."

"Tell me, Trufflehunter," Peter said, looking down at the Badger as they paused at a juncture that led back to the main chamber. "The Telmarine soldier that was outside your home…was that Prince Caspian?"

Trufflehunter nodded. "It was," he replied.

"How did you know he could be trusted?" Peter asked.

"We didn't at first," Trufflehunter said. "He had this with him, however, and that made him a curiosity at least, so we kept him alive until we could question him." Reaching into the bag he was carrying slung over his shoulder, the Badger reverently produced an ivory horn carved in the shape of Aslan's head. The braces where a ribbon could be tied to carry it with were empty, but even without the scarlet ribbon, all four Pevensies recognized it.

"My horn!" Susan exclaimed, reaching for it. "But how did the Telmarines get it?"

Trufflehunter shook his head as he returned Susan's horn to her. "That we do not know for sure. Prince Caspian claims that his Professor gave it to him just before he fled Cair Paravel, saying only that it took him a very long time to track it down. Whether or not it was at Cair Paravel when the Professor found it, we are uncertain."

Trufflehunter sighed softly. "Telmarine he may be, but he is correct about one thing. The Telmarine throne is lawfully his, and he has been betrayed by his uncle, Miraz. He pledged that if we helped him claim his throne, he would restore Narnia to us. Glenstorm believes him, as do I, as well as many of the others."

Peter's lips tightened. "Where is Prince Caspian?"

"Out with some of the others, gathering weapons for the army. With the supplies we have here, we can only outfit about half of the army. Prince Caspian came up with a plan to help us acquire more from the Telmarines, and he led the group that went out to get them. They should be back by sunset tonight, since they left before dawn," Nikabrik replied.

"You mentioned two humans were here. I am assuming that Prince Caspian is one of them, but who is the other?" Edmund asked before Peter could. Peter smiled. He knew his brother wouldn't have missed that bit of information.

"A most unexpected ally," Trufflehunter replied, leading the four monarchs down a passage they had not yet been shown. He stopped about halfway down the tunnel and scratched at the stone outside a doorway carved into the rock.

"Yes?" called a feminine voice.

That voice…Peter thought. It sounded familiar…but not. His heart began to race and he wondered…

He was disappointed a moment later, as the owner of the voice came out into the tunnel and looked at her guests. She was indeed human, with black hair pulled back into a knot at the base of her neck and blue-grey eyes. She had clear skin and high cheekbones, and if Peter was any judge of ages, she was in her mid-twenties.

"Lady Aislynn, I would like to introduce you to some unexpected arrivals," Trufflehunter said. "These are Narnia's Kings and Queens. High King Peter and his brother King Edmund, and their sisters Queens Susan and Lucy," he introduced them gesturing to each of them in turn, earning a startled look from the woman. "Your Majesties, this is Lady Aislynn, a member of His Majesty King Cor's court at Anvard."

Lady Aislynn swiftly curtsied to the four rulers, who indicated that she could rise almost immediately, smiles on their faces. Peter studied her for a moment, thinking that she looked familiar, but unable to place her.

"It is a great honor to meet Your Majesties," Lady Aislynn said quietly. "This is wonderful news indeed."

"May I ask, Lady Aislynn, what you are doing here? After what we have been told, finding someone from Anvard was the last thing we expected," Susan asked politely.

Aislynn offered a sort-of half-smile. "King Cor sent me to serve as a messenger for him to the Narnians."

"Is he helping the Narnians?" Peter asked.

"In a way," Lady Aislynn replied. "He's been sending supplies covertly through the gryphons on a regular basis ever since the Telmarines took Cair Paravel. Unfortunately, the Telmarine army is much stronger than Archenland's army. His Majesty wanted to work out a joint attack with the Narnians, but he also felt it was important to wait until there was some type of turmoil among the Telmarines, otherwise they would simply drive both groups out. Four days ago, a gryphon came by to pick up the latest shipment of supplies and informed His Majesty that somehow Prince Caspian had been chased from Cair Paravel by a group of Telmarine soldiers and was now seeking refuge with the Narnians. He asked me to come and find out the true situation and send back word if it was time to begin making preparations to drive the Telmarines out of Narnia."

Edmund frowned slightly. "That is good to know, but if I may ask, why did he send you?"

"The Telmarines are deeply suspicious of any man attempting to cross the border," Lady Aislynn replied. "They know Archenland is a long-time ally of Narnia, but they also believe that a man could be a soldier attempting to sneak in, since women do not serve in the Archenland army. King Cor sent me here under the pretense that I was to serve as the new ambassador to Narnia, since women do serve as our ambassadors. Via the gryphons, we arranged a meeting place, and I came openly across the border to be escorted to Cair Paravel by the Telmarines. When we camped that night, I slipped a sedative into the Telmarine escort's food and then took my things and left to meet the Narnian escort."

"An ambitious plan, my lady," Peter responded. "But why were you chosen?"

Aislynn frowned. "King Cor requested I come, as did my mother. My mother has many friends among the Narnians. She grew up on a farm close to the border and moved to the Court when she married my father, but she became close friends with the Narnians. She raised me the way she thought my father would have wanted. I can wield a sword, bow, or dagger, master any horse I choose, and hunt regularly with King Cor and Prince Corin. My mother taught me all manner of fine work, singing, dance, and hostess skills, as well as seeing that I knew the arts of diplomacy and negotiation."

"May I ask who your father is?" Peter queried. "We had a great many friends in King Lune's court, and it's possible we know him."

"I don't know who my father is, Your Majesty. He died before I was born, and my mother never speaks of him. The few times I asked when I was a child, she never answered my questions, and I could see that talking about him caused her pain, so I stopped asking," Aislynn replied.

"Forgive me for prying into your personal life, Lady Aislynn," Peter apologized. "It was unnecessary curiosity."

"I took no offense, Your Majesty. It is a great relief that you are here to help the Narnians. I will send a message to King Cor letting him know of your return, and perhaps he will agree that now is the right time to strike back for Narnia's freedom."

"If you don't mind, Lady Aislynn, I would like to include a message of my own to Cor," Peter replied. "I knew him when he first learned he was the Crown Prince of Archenland, and he was a good friend in the last two years before we left Narnia."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Aislynn replied. "I will send my message via one of the gryphons when yours is ready."

Peter nodded in agreement and turned back to his siblings and Trufflehunter. He looked down at the Badger. "Trufflehunter, is there a place where we might be able to wash up, and possibly change into something a little more appropriate?"

"There's a fresh-water spring running through one of the storerooms that we use as our water source," Trufflehunter replied. "It would be rather cold, but it's clean."

The idea of a cold bath didn't appeal to any of them, but if it meant getting clean and possibly repairing some of the damage done to their school uniforms over the last three days, it was worth it.

"Excuse me, King Peter," Lady Aislynn spoke up. "If you're in need of fresh clothing, I may have something that would suit."

All four monarchs turned and looked at the young woman. With a smile, she beckoned them into the room she had been working in and led them to a small, sturdy traveling trunk in the corner next to her pallet. She opened it and then turned to study the four of them for a moment before nodding and rummaging around inside.

A moment later she emerged with an armful of clothing, neatly folded, which she laid on her pallet. The first article she picked up and shook out, she handed to Susan, who was just about the same size as she was. or close enough that it made little difference. It was a dress made of a sturdy linen dyed a soft purple, with long sleeves and a low, scooped neck.

"Here, this looks like it should fit you," Aislynn said with a smile.

"Thank you," Susan replied, shocked at the older girl's generosity. Aislynn simply nodded and reached for the second article, pulling out a second dress made of a red wool plush with a silver bodice of linen that was lightly beaded. She held it out to Lucy, but frowned as she took in the difference in their heights.

"If you try this on, Your Majesty, I can pin it up and adjust the hem so it fits you better. I'm afraid it will be too long."

Lucy looked equally surprised. "I don't want you to sacrifice one of your own dresses," she protested.

Aislynn smiled. "I don't mind, Your Majesty. I brought plenty of clothing with me in order to maintain the fiction that I was headed for Cair Paravel. Please, take it and try it on and I'll alter it for you."

"Thank you," Lucy replied after a moment of looking into the older girl's eyes and trying to decide if she was serious or not. She reached out and took the dress and held it while Aislynn turned back to the rest of the clothing. She studied what she had removed from the chest for a moment before pulling out a pale blue linen shirt with long sleeves and a dark brown wool tunic with matching leather belt and buttons down the front. She handed these to Peter, along with a set of linen pants.

"When we heard that Prince Caspian had fled to join the Narnians, King Cor insisted that I take some clothing for him as a gift, since he probably wouldn't be able to get more clothing from the Narnians," she explained as Peter raised his eyebrows at the sight of her carrying men's clothing in her trunk. "You and he are about the same size, so these should fit you well. As for King Edmund," she picked up the last set of clothes, a darker blue linen shirt and leather belt, minus the tunic, and brown pants to match Peter's. "You're not that much smaller than your brother, so these should fit you closely enough."

"Thank you for your generosity, Lady Aislynn. We greatly appreciate it," Edmund told her, taking the clothing from her hands.

"I'm afraid the one thing I cannot provide are proper shoes for you, King Peter, King Edmund," Lady Aislynn admitted. "But I do have shoes that should do well for your sisters."

"We can use what we have at the moment, Lady Aislynn," Peter assured her. "Perhaps we can find one of the leather workers who can make us boots if it turns out that they are necessary."

"It is possible," Aislynn told them. "The Narnians are quite skilled and I am sure they would do anything for their Kings and Queens." She looked at them. "Queen Lucy, if you would like to try your dress on now, I can work on altering it while you wash up. It shouldn't take long to make the adjustments, and I will bring it to you when I am finished."

"Go on, Lu," Susan encouraged her. "Trufflehunter can show the boys where they can wash up. I'll wait for you and we'll go together when you're ready."

"All right," Lucy agreed. Peter and Edmund nodded in agreement as well, and stepped out to follow Trufflehunter, while Susan stepped out into the hallway to give her sister some privacy to try on the dress.

"There you are, Lu," Susan said as she secured Lucy's hair with a final twist. "Now you look like a proper Queen."

Lucy studied what she could see of herself since she was lacking a mirror. Aislynn had been as good as her word about being able to quickly alter the red dress to fit the younger Queen. It had fit well enough in the bodice, but the skirt had been much too long, so Aislynn had quickly adjusted the hem and then made a tiny adjustment to the bodice to make it fit a little bit better. She wore a pair of simple leather slippers, and Susan had been kind enough to help her braid her hair back to keep it out of her face.

As for Susan, she looked every inch Queen Susan the Gentle in her borrowed dress. The only things missing from her appearance were her golden crown and her bow, quiver, and horn, although she rarely wore those out in public. But seeing her sister, looking as Lucy remembered her, filled Lucy with such joy that she felt tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Susan spotted her sister's tears and immediately gathered her into her own arms. "Oh, Lu…what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Susan," Lucy reassured the older girl, reaching up to wipe at her eyes. "I'm just so happy to be back in Narnia, and seeing you dressed like that…it's all good memories, even though things have changed so much."

Susan hugged her tightly. "Oh, Lucy. It has been hard, hasn't it?" Without waiting for a reply to her question, she continued. "You always knew we'd be coming back here, didn't you?"

Lucy nodded against her sister. "I hoped so, mostly for Peter's sake, but also for all of us. I didn't want to believe that Aslan would have us rule for so long and then return us to England without intending to bring us back. We didn't leave anyone appointed to rule for us. I mean, Krisalyn was here, and the baby, but we never got a chance to ask Aslan if there was always supposed to be four on the thrones at Cair Paravel."

Susan released her sister. "Lucy, you know we couldn't control what happened, right?" When Lucy nodded, Susan sighed. "I was just starting to get used to the idea of being back in England and living there. I know it had only been four months, but not knowing when or if we would ever come back…it was easier to pretend that we wouldn't."

"But you're glad to be here, aren't you?" Lucy asked, touching her sister's hand.

"While it lasts," Susan whispered. There was an expression on her face that was both wistful and sorrowful. Lucy watched her quietly for a moment before Susan shook off her melancholy and smiled down at her. "Come on, Lu. Let's take a look around. I think there's more to this place than we've seen."

Lucy smiled broadly and nodded, and together the two girls hurried out of the little room where they had been getting cleaned up. They chose a random path and began walking, the torches that lit the way casting intricate shadows on the walls and ceilings of the caves.

An odd reflection drew Lucy's attention and she paused before stepping closer to the wall. Susan frowned and followed her gaze. A moment later, both Queens' gazes met and held. "Peter will want to know about this," Lucy whispered.

"Then let's go and find them," Susan replied, taking her sister's hand and leading the way back in the direction of the forges, the sound of hammer on steel guiding them.

Peter and Edmund were looking around the forges when Lady Aislynn joined them. She dipped a swift curtsy to the two Kings, before facing them. "I have finished my letter, Your Majesties. As soon as your letter is ready, I will send them."

"Thank you, Lady Aislynn," Peter said, a warm smile on his face. "And thank you for everything you've done for the Narnians already. We appreciate it."

"It is my pleasure, King Peter," she replied softly. "Archenland has always been Narnia's ally."

"What do you know about King Cor's plans to send in his troops?" Peter asked.

"Very little, I am afraid," Aislynn replied. "I was only asked to come here and serve as messenger and ambassador from Archenland. His Majesty promised that he would send further instructions once I had made contact with the Narnians and sent back a report on the state of events."

"Peter!" Susan called, drawing their attention. All three turned and saw Susan and Lucy standing at the entrance to one of the side passages. Peter frowned and stepped over to his sisters, Edmund and Aislynn following him.

"What is it, Su?" Peter asked.

"You may want to see this," Susan replied and led the way down the passage, Lucy walking beside her. Edmund and Peter exchanged looks and shrugs before following their sisters, Aislynn trailing behind them.

Susan picked up a torch and held it up to one of the walls. At first Peter wasn't sure what he was looking at, but a moment later, he realized he was staring at a picture that had been carved and painted into the rock wall. The image was of the four of them standing in front of the four thrones at Cair Paravel, on the day of their coronation. It wasn't incredibly detailed, but there was enough detail to make it very obvious to all four monarch exactly what they were looking at.

Next to the coronation picture was a picture of two young girls riding on the back of a lion. Aslan…and Susan and Lucy, on their way to the Witch's castle to free those she had turned, Peter thought in awe and a bit of confusion.

"It's us," Susan said quietly, looking at all of the scenes that had been carved into the rock.

"What is this place?" Lucy wondered aloud. "Mr. Tumnus must have picked some reason to construct the How here, and it can't all have to do with the caves."

Lady Aislynn raised her eyebrows at the four monarchs. "You mean you don't know?"

The four Pevensies shook their heads, exchanging looks. With a mysterious smile on her face, the older girl took one of the torches off the wall and led the way down the passage.

Peter started to lead the way before another carving caught his eye and he paused. Aslan was facing outward, and just below him, on a set of steps leading up to where he stood, was a depiction of Peter himself and a woman with long dark hair, gazing up at him. A crown sparkled on her dark hair, and her hands were joined with Peter's.

Peter reached out and carefully touched the picture. "This was my wedding…" he whispered, recognizing the image immediately and feeling an old, familiar jolt of heart-ache. His siblings gathered behind him, waiting for him to continue and silently lending him support as Aislynn paused and turned back.

"Your Majesties?" she asked, uncertain why they had hesitated in front of one of the pictures.

Peter shook himself and blinked back the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes. He was not going to let his own pain interfere with Narnia's well-being, no matter how hard it was. He walked over to Aislynn, his siblings trailing behind him.

She led them down a long, dark passage way, her torch the only light as she moved confidently down the tunnel. After some distance, the air seemed less close, as if they had stepped into a large room or cavern. They still couldn't see anything, the torch not quite bright enough to pierce the gloom.

"What is this place?" Peter asked, his voice echoing in the room and seeming to disturb something that was intrinsically solemn and powerful in the silence. He could sense Aislynn moving off to the right and a moment later she touched the torch to something and light began to blaze up around the room as the flame spread through an oil-filled basin that ringed the room.

All along the walls were carved images of different Narnians. Fauns, centaurs, dwarves, Talking Animals, gryphons, dryads…they were gathered together on either side of the room. At the far end of the room one carving in particular caught and held the eye. A great lion, with kind, wise eyes, sitting and watching them, his tail curled around his feet.

"Aslan," Edmund whispered, just before Lucy seized Peter's arm as the light revealed what was in the center of the room.

Carved pillars, like massive monoliths, rose in a circle around the center of the room. Framing the carving of Aslan was a great trilithion of two upright pillars with one laid across the top. In the center of the circle, a massive stone slab, with four small slabs holding it up, and steps leading up to the top on each side. A huge crack ran straight through the middle of the largest slab, and it had bowed inward as a result, unable to hold it's own weight.

"The Stone Table," Lucy breathed, squeezing Peter's hand before she let go and stepped up to the Table, resting her hand on the surface, right next to the crack. She stood there for a moment, before turning back to her siblings. Edmund's face was tense with memories he tried to repress, and Susan was trying to hold back tears. Peter's eyes were fixed on the carving of Aslan at the far end of the room. Lucy looked at each of them. "He must know what he's doing."

Peter slowly tore his gaze from that of the carving and met the gaze of his little sister before allowing his eyes to meet Edmund, Susan, and Aislynn in turn. "I'm sure he does, Lu, but until he arrives, it's up to us to begin setting things right."