Chapter Thirty-Two: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Lucy flipped her dagger in her hand, frowning when it nearly slipped from her fingers. She clasped it tighter in her palm, holding it firmly. Her frown deepened. It wasn't that long since she had been a sword wielding queen, going out into battle and into political discussions with her brother and sister. It had to be like riding a bike, it was supposed to come back.

But how much did come back when there was so muh of their old world that had changed. Most of the talking animals didn't exist, all their old friends like Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers were dead. The old life that she had as a old-but-young Queen was over.

"That's right, my queen, ensure you stand your ground," Reepicheep encouraged. He bounced back and forth on the fence he stood upon, gazing over Lucy and Trumpkin held their ground as the opposed each other. Lucy, with her dagger, and Trumpkin with a long sword. "Don't let anyone take you for a fool!"

Trumpkin grunted. "You can say that again."

"I heard that," Reepicheep grumbled in response. Then he brightened, turning his attention back toward Lucy. "My queen, we'll be ready for anything that comes our way. There aren't many that can stand in the way of the Kings and Queens of old." At Lucy's continued frown he scrambled down from the fence and stopped at her feet, gazing up at her. "If I may?"

Lucy nodded.

Reepicheep nodded back and ran up to perch on her shoulder. "There will always be a time where you will have to go into battle. I understand that your brothers wanted to protect you in the fight with Miraz, but if it weren't for you, if it weren't for you finding Aslan…who knows what would have happened."

"It's not that," Lucy replied. She lowered her dagger and looked at Trumpkin, who stared back at her. Then turned to Reepicheep, addressing them both." Aslan brought us here to help Caspian find his way to be King. To stop the Telmarines from invading. We're doing what he wanted, we've stopped them. We're trying to merge the people together…"

Trumpkin grunted sarcastically. "Getting the Telmarines and Narnians to live in harmony is like getting my mother and father to have a happy life together. You can wish it but they're better off alone." He shrugged. "Make some good feasts, though."

Lucy looked at him sadly. "We've managed to do it so far."

Trumpkin looked at her out the corner of his eye. He pressed his lips together and took a deep breath through his nose. "I'm not saying it's not possible, but you have years of anger and frustration and fear to get through. Fear that had been placed into the hearts of the Telmarines for years. It's going to take more than a new King…and the Kings and Queens of old to completely turn the Telmarines."

"Thank you for your pessimism," Reepicheep murmured. He exchanged a glare with Trumpkin.

"Would you rather I lie to the girl?"

"Do you think it's possible any of them would be working with the Calormens or the Archenlanders?" Lucy asked. "King Nain and Queen Aria?"

Reepicheep hesitated for a moment. "Anything is possible, my Queen," he replied. "I couldn't…truthfully say one way or another."

"It would explain why we're still here," Lucy continued to muse. She gently ran her fingertip along the hilt of her dagger. Reached down and felt the cordial that rested against her hip, tucked in with her skirts. "But last time, we were here for a long time, would Aslan have sent us back then?"

Reepicheep ran down Lucy's arm and back to the top of the fence. He put his sword away, the training for that day over. "Something tells me that what's worrying you is more than you're opting to share."

"I'm thinking of what Dulcea told us," Lucy admitted. "What her prophecy was for me." She closed her eyes, putting herself back into the excitement she had when sitting in front of the prophet. Lucy remembered what she had to say clearly.

"Dearest Lucy," Dulcea said, making the youngest Pevensie to sit up straight, eyes shining with excitement. "As the youngest, you are more than what you appear to be. Others want to be way of coming across you." Lucy's smile widened. Duclea's eyebrows twitched. "I see moments of great decision falling upon your shoulders. Decisions that'll be felt for years to come, that will only end once your wise nature is realized. You're strong and that strength shall be felt for centuries."

"She said I have moments of great decision that will befall upon my shoulders," Lucy said out loud. She put her dagger away, wiping her hands off on the ends of her skirts. "Something is coming. A war is coming…but I don't…I'm not sure…" She took in a deep breath, shaking her head.

"What is it, my Queen?" Reepicheep asked. "If there is something you'd like to get off your chest, Trumpkin and I are very well entrusted with your secret throughts." He paused, bowing his head. "If you'd so like to share with us."

"The Calormens, the Archenlanders, the Telmarines…they all have reasons for not wanting us to have come back," Lucy said. She walked over to the patch of grass next to the fence Reepicheep stood upon, smiled when she heard the sounds of the horses in the nearby stable neighing. "The Calormens have always done whatever they wanted…have always been a ruthless sort and have been difficult to take down." Her eyebrows rose in memories of her older life where she and Susan had done a lot of negotiating to keep the Calormens from invading. "Those decisions were made from all of us. But there are supposed to be decisions made from me."

Lucy lowered her head, closed her eyes. Tried her best to feel the magic that was in Narnia, the magic that surrounded her. Not the same kind of magic that Jadis worked with, but similar to Aslan. Where he was able to allow the Water God to regain their lifeforce, the trees to awaken and attack Miraz's group. There was a reason she was able to see and speak to Aslan while the others couldn't. Something she worked hard on as the days went by.

She never told her siblings, but when back in England, she worked hard to see if she could contact Aslan. Did everything she could to try and find Aslan in their world. She spent many times by herself, eyes closed, working to connect in with the energies and feelings of the creatures and people around her. And she became good at it.

There were days where she had seen animals that would run by her and sit and stare at her, where she would smile and it was like they smiled back before running away. Times where she would send a short prayer, a short message out to the universe to help her with something, and she'd get a sign in response. Unlike speaking about Narnia, the first time, Lucy knew not to bring it up with her siblings. It was sacred, special for her. Special to her.

Had her siblings noticed she had become quieter, more drawn to herself, they didn't bring much notice to it. They had their own things they were dealing with that they needed to handle on their own. They started to give up on seeing Narnia again, Lucy hadn't. Because Narnia—Aslan—had been in contact with her in England.

She could feel the magic that swept through Narnia course through her veins. The tingling that started from the top of her head down to her feet. It warmed her, made her feel even more connected to the world than ever before.

She sucked in a sharp breath when the feeling was suddenly gone. As if it hit

"Something's coming," She said.

"My Dear Friend, I'm trying not to speak out of turn when I say…something is always coming in Narnia," Trumpkin grumbled.

"No." Lucy shook her head. "I felt some magic. Some other magic. The kind of magic that the White Witch had." Her eyes narrowed. "Something evil is nearby."

Peter ran his hands through his hair.

He watched as the servants quickly bustled through his room, cleaning things. Didn't pay much attention to them. There was too much otherwise, on his mind. Primarily in that he, somehow, needed to stay on top of the restoration project of Cair Paravel, plan a wedding between his sister and Caspian, get Caspian caught up to speed on what it meant to be a King, ensure he got enough training to be in top shape incase an attack came sooner than later, get together another army, help that army truly mourn their fallen family members from

And all he could think about was Brielle.

Because of that stupid dream that wouldn't leave his head. The dream that felt so real, where they'd been frolicking in the snow, clearly already an item from the way they had interacted with each other. The way they had kissed each other.

Peter had woken up from that dream days ago, where he had practically flipped in his bed, working to figure out whether or not he was truly alone. The dream was that vivid. He even brought his hands up to his face, to gently sniff his fingertips—and feel stupid afterwards—to see if the scent of the perfume she put in her hair was still there. It was that vivid. His beating heart proved as much.

It was a dream.

Dreams didn't mean much.

And yet, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Anytime he worked on his correspondence, sat for dinner, had a meeting he found himself gazing into space, thinking about it once more. It was plaguing him and yet…also didn't bother him at all. He found himself smiling at times at the memory. Finding he didn't mind to be in her presence so much.

So much so he found his eyes drifting towards her whenever she was around. He was so busy he'd never noticed just how much the lady in waiting truly was around them. Typically, only seeing her as an annoyance and someone to bicker with—their first foray into Narnia had proved that, and his wife had always giggled and found humor at their bickering—he hadn't truly noticed how much she did as the leader of the servants.

Not only did Brielle ensure that the Pevensies and Caspian were served their food at the correct times ready to have things changed or fixed if there was anything wrong with the food, but ensured their rooms were routinely turned down, was a best friend to Susan, a good mentor to Lucy, and was always nice and helpful to all the servants; often joining them on their cleaning and cooking when the time came. (Despite making faces and groaning at how dirty she would become when doing so, caring a bit more about her clothing than anything else).

If anything, he found that the castle probably wouldn't have been able to run without her there.

So he watched her as she directed the servants and the little ones, Rosie and Roman, to clean his bedchambers. It was sweet, how the little kids kept glancing at him with their eyes as wide as dinner plates, never able to be so close to the royals. They bickered a little, hitting each other, whining, and pushing each other out of the way, before Adrianna hurriedly shushed them.

"I'm sorry, Lady Brielle, I wasn't able to leave them in the care of the wet nurse," she said quickly. "She's been sick—"

Brielle simply smiled, placing her hand on Adrianna's shoulder. "It's alright, I understand how tough things can be. These two are a very good help. They're not getting in anyone's way, right?" She motioned to the two as they tugged on the sides of the sheets on Peter's bed, working to pull it into the shape of the mattress.

Peter chuckled to himself. He watched as they finished tidying up the room before gathering their things and leaving to clean whatever was next. Peter continued to stay where he was for a few minutes before leaving the room to follow them. Peter walked down the closest corridor, looked left and right, and didn't find Brielle.

It took him another few minutes until he spotted her relieving Adrianna, Rosie, and Roman of their duties, telling them to take the dirty sheets to be washed and break off to go her own way. As if sensing he was there, Brielle turned.

Her eyebrows came together when she spotted him coming her way. "Are you following me?"

For a moment, Peter paused. Didn't look much like the King who lead numerous wartime factions and snagged himself a High Queen, he was sure. His fingertips fluttered at his sides, eyes shifting as he worked out what to say next. No, he didn't look much like a King, but like a teenage boy that didn't know whether she should say something to his crush despite all his buddies egging him on.

Not that he had a crush, or anything. But…he had something… Peter cleared his throat, stood up straight. "Well, it seems like you can't go anywhere alone without some sort of trouble around," he replied. He paused, then added more formally. "So, I might have been following you."

Her eyebrow rose. "Might?"

"Maybe…I wanted to see how the servants have been doing."

"And maybe you're lying," Brielle replied with a light chuckle. "And you're very bad at it." She brushed her hair behind her shoulders. "The servants are doing fine. Everyone's still getting used to the change in leadership around here." She started walking again and he fell in step with her. "I mean, the Telmarines were used to cowering under Miraz's rule and now they have his nephew as ruler. Not to mention actually seeing the Kings and Queens of Old up close and wondering how to act around them. I guess they feel you're going to disappear again."

"Caspian isn't going to do the same as Miraz," Peter said. "He was against everything his uncle was for. They'll see it when he takes the throne." And we're not going anywhere, he said to himself, firmly.

"So that doesn't bother you?" Brielle continued when Peter made a sound that instructed her to elaborate. "Him being the King? I mean, you and your brother and sisters had ruled for a long time. I don't believe I can say I was the only one who thought if we ever returned to Narnia that things would be the same and you all would be the Kings and Queens again." She smoothed her dress beneath her, sitting down carefully on a nearby bench.

"You weren't…" Peter sat next to her. He clasped his hands between his knees, thought for a moment. "I think a big part of all of us were thinking if we were able to go back, we'd pick up where we left off." Peter's eyebrows came together. "If time barely changed when we came out of Narnia, how were we to expect that so much time would've changed when we went in?"

"…but years had passed when we left. We were adults, children again when we came back."

"Yes, but who was to say that we were able to go back to Narnia and finish our lives out there?" Peter pointed out. He swallowed hard. "Does dying here in Narnia mean anything to us dying out in England?" He looked at Brielle as he asked his question, noticing the surprise that came over her face.

"I'm not sure," she said quietly. "I've never really thought about it."

"I wondered, when Jadis had stabbed Ed," Peter said. He chuckled to himself. "Can you believe my first worry was 'Mum's going to kill me' when I saw him lying there, bleeding? I mean, after the fear started to go away. It's a stupid thought, really. A childish one, that I was afraid my mum was going to kill me because my brother was dying." He took in a deep breath through his nose, rubbed at his eyes, rubbed the image away. Ed's fine, he's here. You know that. "And I did wonder what would happen if he died in Narnia, if it meant we didn't exist in England anymore."

Brielle murmured quietly. "That's a tough burden to bear."

"What was tougher was having to bear it again, when we got back," Peter said. He had no idea why he was suddenly admitting all of it. He had never truly spoken about it before. Worked hard to be as strong and stoic as he could be for his brothers and sister. Protected them the best he could. And in that protection, worked hard to not let any of those dark thoughts slip into his mind.

Where he didn't think about how he had killed Maugrim to keep his sisters safe, he didn't think about how a fox and other magical creatures had given up their lives to protect him and his sisters as they searched for Edmund in Narnia, he didn't think about how Edmund had died under his care, he didn't think about all the family and friends that had died in their absence. Even still being in Narnia after Miraz fell, he tried not to think about the centaurs, minotaurs, and other magical creatures that lost their lives as he led them into the courtyard of the castle, they currently resided in.

That was the part he didn't speak about to the others, how much it haunted him when he walked through the courtyard and the gates. Knowing it was the place where many had fought to the death. There were some places where the blood still hadn't been washed away from the concrete. Peter always did his best not to look at those faint marks lest it allowed his heart to fall to his feet once more.

It was easier, in a way, to be in England. Where everything didn't remind him of what he once had.

"Why didn't you write?" Peter asked.

The question surprised him, suddenly coming out of his mouth. It appeared to be a question that'd been on his mind for a while. Or else, made sense. Thinking about home, about all the things that he'd left in Narnia, things he thought had changed. It hadn't taken long before the Pevensies realized, after speaking with Kirke, that Brielle had been left in Narnia.

Susan had suddenly grown forlorn over dinner that night and when Lucy asked about it, she'd mentioned her name. "Brielle…she's still in Narnia. I think. We left her back there like the rest of them." She lifted her head and looked at her brothers, sister, and Professor Kirke, who had a grim expression on his face. "Will she come out of Narnia, too?"

And all Professor Kirke could do was sigh and say, "Narnia knows when it's time for those to leave it," he said. "There are ways to get in contact…one thing that can be said for certain…you don't always leave Narnia. Sooner or later, it'll call you back. It's deep within you."

So, the days went by, they got used to their lives on the countryside. Then, one day, a letter arrived for the Pevensies. Professor Kirke had brought the letter to them with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eye. Almost as if quietly saying, "I told you so," before leaving them in peace to elate over the familiar, curly handwriting of Brielle.

Brielle gazed at Peter, eyes widening in surprise. "I did write!" She grasped his hand, squeezed it. "Did Susan not share my letters? I had a lot to say."

"Yes, about nylons and lipsticks and parties," Peter replied with a light roll of his eyes. "I think I have to blame you for Susan starting to become interested in that, thank you." He eyebrows shifted upwards. "The more time we spent home, away from Narnia, the more we changed. She started to move on a bit faster than the rest of us."

Brielle lifted her chin. "There's nothing wrong with those things."

"No, I suppose not. But it was weird to see one of the best Queens I've ever seen suddenly care about other matters."

"I didn't only just write about that," Brielle said. "I wrote about home and my mum and dad…and being home again without my friends…"

"But you only wrote to Susan. We all went through a lot together; I sort of expected you to write to all of us." Peter cleared his throat. "Not to say that you need to write four letters, that would've been murdere on your hand, and you—"

"—Peter, you're rambling," Brielle interrupted. She sighed. "I guess I didn't know what to say to the rest of you. Edmund and I were only close because of Peridan, I was more of Lucy's servant than her friend at the time because she was so young. And you…" her mouth twitched. "Well, we didn't really get along, we both know that. Seems all we do is bicker all the time."

Peter smiled.

"It was hard, you know. Waiting to see what happened to you all when you didn't come back from searching for the stag. Diane and I…we searched for you guys as long as we could. Next thing I knew, I went to take a bath one day and I woke up back in my bathroom in England with my mum banging on the bloody door, wondering if I fell in!" Brielle chuckled to herself. "It took a long time to figure out where you were for me to send Susan a letter. I never expected her to write back, I thought you would be in your boarding schools. I never thought I'd find you, considering the war and all…"

Peter nodded.

Brielle tucked her hair behind her ear. "Why didn't you write?"

The question threw him off guard for a moment. His eyebrows pinched and he sucked his lips into his mouth. Finally, he turned and looked her in the eye. "I didn't know if you'd wanted me to."

"Of course, I would've."

"And what would we have talked about?" Peter asked. "The same things you were telling Susan?"

"I would've told you about Diane," Brielle insisted. Peter ignored the pang in his chest that always came whenever his wife's name was mentioned. "And the last few days I shared with her. And how she never gave up searching for you, waiting for you to come back. And how sad she was as the days went on, but she never gave up hope. How she made me promise to find you guys…" Brielle shook her head, bringing her hand up to run through her hair. "Why bring it up now? It's not like we're going to be cast out of Narnia anytime soon." She waved her hand. "Aslan hasn't said anything…we still have work to do to help Caspian and the Telmarines…" she trailed off, seeing the intensity in Peter's eyes.

Peter took a breath. He looked down at Brielle's hand in his and he tightened his grasp around hers. Looked her in the eye once more. "Because I can't stop thinking about you, Bri," he said. Brielle's eyes widened slightly at the use of the nickname. He'd never called her that before. "And I don't know why."

A/N: Ohhh, I'm really excited for you all to see what's happening. I hope you guys are still enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. Fun fact, I thought about ending the chapter with a Prielle kiss but…I realized a better way to do it.

Cheers,

-Riles