Unhappy Reunion

At first Zia was terrified. The rocking motion was sickening and every stride taken by the horse tested her balance to its very limits. A biting wind stung her face and forced tears from her eyes. She clung to Seren's dark mane for dear life, her knuckles obtrusive under strained skin. Breejit wasn't having a pleasant time, either. His eyes and jaws were closed tightly and his limbs dangled uselessly on either side of Seren's broad back. Even though Zia hugged him to her body so tightly that he could barely breathe, he was sure he would fall and the jarring thud as he hit the ground would be the last sensation he would ever know.

The forest blurred into a confusing haze of greens and browns. Zia blinked away the moisture in her eyes in order to get a clearer view of the surroundings. Her stomach pitched and rolled crazily, but she would choose nausea over blindness. Although this way of travel exceeded her comfort zones by a rather large margin, at least they wouldn't have to walk all the way to Cair Paravel. They would be back at the Grove before sundown.

Soon, Zia began to realise that Davlon was right: Seren would not allow them to fall. The horse's stride lengthened until her passengers were barely jostled. Trees moved aside to let them pass, eliminating the need for them to repeatedly swerve. Feeling more comfortable, Zia slowly sat up, ready to cling on again if she started to slip. She could hear little over the thundering of hooves nor see a great deal, but she was fairly sure she didn't recognise this part of the forest. They must be getting closer.

Gradually, the ground began to slope uphill. Seren's pace slowed a little and her breathing became exerted. Zia craned her neck, hoping to at last catch a glimpse of the castle she had seen only in her dreams. Green obscured it from sight until the last possible moment. The forest suddenly ended and Cair Paravel rose up before them - grand, majestic and glinting in the sunlight.

Davlon stopped outside a pair of huge, intricate black gates. Zia gripped Seren with her knees as the horse slid to a halt beside him. The momentum carried Zia forward until she was almost on Seren's neck. Breejit whimpered softly. Zia gave him a reassuring squeeze in response.

A disembodied voice called out, "What is your business here?"

As Davlon was still panting heavily and presently incapable of speech, Zia cleared her throat. "We bring news from Western Wood." She was unsure of where to direct her answer; the owner of the voice was nowhere in sight. "Something terrible has happened. We wish to alert the Kings and Queens immediately."

"I suppose you had better come in."

There was a brief pause, and then a Faun appeared. He walked stiffly, as though the chainmail he wore greatly impeded him. The shaggy hair on his hindquarters was sleek and shiny. He struggled to shift the hefty bolts that held the wrought iron gates closed. The small group on the other side didn't think he would appreciate being offered assistance – he seemed far too proud. They hung back meekly whilst Zia bit her lip to keep from laughing. Finally, when he was almost purple in the face, the Faun managed to open the gates wide enough for Davlon and Seren's bulky forms to fit through. As she passed him, Zia glanced down at the Faun. He narrowed his eyes and puffed out his chest.

Once they were through and the Faun was fighting to close the gates, Zia and Breejit hurriedly dismounted. Zia's knees were rubbery and barely supported her weight. She staggered upon connecting with the ground and almost fell. Although he too was a little wobbly, Breejit was hugely grateful to feel solid ground beneath his paws again.

A stable-hand materialised to take hold of Seren as the Faun gestured for the party to follow him. They crossed as enormous courtyard and climbed a towering flight of steps before entering the castle. Zia's neck soon ached from turning her head this way and that as her childhood dreams of seeing inside the Cair all came flooding back. The castle was built largely of stone but was in no way intimidating. The corridors were off-white in colour, cool, wide and pleasantly light from the many stained-glass windows. Each one portrayed a different and very colourful scene. Zia was sorry she didn't have time to admire them all.

The Faun stopped in front of a set of tall double doors. Two more Fauns stood on either side, guarding the entrance to the throne room. Both wore red tunics and chainmail, and had swords strapped to their belts. Each held a long lance so that they crossed to form a giant 'X' shape across the doors.

The escort turned to look down his nose at Zia. "Which one of you is coming inside?"

The three of them glanced at one another. "Can't we all go in?" Zia asked. Her insides contracted with nerves.

"Their Majesties are very busy," the Faun replied haughtily. "We don't want to bother them for very long with… trivial matters."

Zia had just about had enough of his patronising behaviour. Fauns were usually such humble creatures, like Tumnus. She was about to hurl a retort at him but Davlon gave her shoulders a gentle push.

"She'll go."

Zia turned to stare at him indignantly but found she was already being swiftly ushered towards the doors. The Faun greeted the two guards with a stiff bow. "I bring a visitor for Their Majesties," he said. His face was full of authority and self-satisfaction as he glanced over his shoulder at Zia. She only just refrained from sticking her tongue out at him. "She claims to bring an important message."

Zia looked pleadingly behind her. Davlon made shoving motions with his hands and Breejit gave her an encouraging nod.

The two guards bowed and lifted their lances away from the doors, which they pushed open. Zia gasped at the sight that greeted her: the throne room was enormous, almost as large as the Grove. It could easily hold the whole of her clan and many more. Marble columns spiralled up to the roof, which was made of several thousand pieces of a clear material that channelled the sun's light and threw it in all directions. Zia stared at the fascinating design for a full minute. She was interrupted by the Faun's impatient gesture and obediently hurried to catch up. Her stomach did nervous little flips with each step her feet took towards the four magnificent thrones at the far end of the room. As they drew nearer, it became clear that three of the thrones were empty. Only the one on the far right was occupied. Its owner rose slowly as recognition dawned on the familiar face.

Stooping so that his nose almost brushed the stone floor, the Faun grandly announced, "Your Majesty, this is -"

"Zia…?" Lucy squeaked. There was a brief pause before she scurried forward and flung her arms around the Dryad as though they had been friends for years instead of only having met once. Zia stood awkwardly whilst the Queen hugged her. She would have liked to bow but Lucy's arms restricted her movements indefinitely. Lucy eventually realised this and stepped back.

The Valiant Queen was taller than Zia remembered. Her cheekbones were now sculpted and prominent, her body had grown lean and curved, and her hair hung long and flowing down her back. She had matured into a beautiful young woman, but had apparently lost not one scrap of her exuberance.

"It's lovely to see you but… what are you doing here? Ed says he hasn't seen you since…" She trailed off, looking sheepish.

Zia quickly made her bow and proceeded to relay her tale. Lucy's expression grew from puzzlement to shock and, by the time Zia was finished, her mouth hung slightly open in disbelief. She stared at her for several heartbeats before abruptly turning to the Faun.

"Ruskin, fetch my brothers and sister. Tell them there is a matter of utmost urgency that they simply must attend to immediately. Hurry, now!"

The arrogant Faun bowed again, looking slightly put out. Zia smiled smugly, glad to see him brought down a peg or two.

Once the Faun had gone, Zia said, "If you'll excuse me, Your Majesty, I shall take my leave so as not to get in the way."

Lucy laughed. "Don't be silly! You must have travelled such a long way…" She paused, considering something. "Did you come here alone?" she inquired.

"No. My two friends are waiting out in the corridor."

Lucy wouldn't hear of Davlon and Breejit remaining outside for a moment longer. She made Zia fetch them and presented her greetings with barely-contained enthusiasm. She managed to restrain herself when faced by Davlon; he was a respectable creature, a formidable warrior and very slightly intimidating. He bowed to her by bending his front legs and lowering his head respectfully. Breejit tried to copy his fluid movements but was much less stable and much less impressive on his skinny legs. Lucy practically squealed with delight and enveloped him in one of her surprisingly strong embraces. Zia hid a smirk behind her hand.

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps informed them that the other three monarchs were approaching. Dryad, Centaur and Fox all dropped down into their respective forms of bowing as High King Peter the Magnificent swept in. He covered the vast length of the room in a short amount of time with his long, powerful strides. Queen Susan followed close behind and King Edmund brought up the rear. As the dark-haired King went by, Zia made a conscious effort not to lift her head even a fraction.

"What's wrong, Lu?" Peter asked in a voice that somehow managed to be commanding and gentle at the same time. None of them noticed the three additional figures until Breejit sneezed, then three pairs of eyes turned to stare at them.

"Lucy…" Peter said dubiously. "Would you care to explain what's going on?"

Lucy repeated Zia's story in such a flurry that some words merged together. Thankfully, her siblings were used to her speaking in a rush and could understand most of what she said. Zia watched their reactions closely. Susan looked purely shocked whilst Peter's smooth brow furrowed into a dark frown. His golden hair shone like a halo in the refracted light, giving him the appearance of a pensive angel. Rather than risk glancing at Edmund, Zia dropped her gaze down to the floor.

Lucy concluded with, "Oh Peter, it's awful! We must do something quickly!" She had told the story in half the time it had taken Zia to.

"Don't worry Lu, we will," Peter assured her before turning to Edmund. It took three attempts of calling his name before Edmund dragged his attention away from Zia. "Western Wood is under your rule, brother. It is up to you to decide what is to be done."

Edmund's voice was like a long-forgotten memory – one that had been forgotten for a reason. "If those creatures really are the remains of the White Witch's army then they will seek to avenge their Queen." Only his siblings noticed the slight catch in his smooth voice as he spoke the name of their old enemy. "They will, no doubt, be on their way to Cair Paravel – soon, if they aren't already. I have a dreadful feeling that they won't hesitate to wipe out innocent lives along the way."

Zia felt the Just King's eyes bore into her but didn't raise her head. Edmund was quiet for a while, debating his options. After about five minutes of apprehensive silence, Peter spoke up.

"It seems only yesterday that we rid Narnia of the Witch," he muttered angrily. "Can we not rest for even a moment?"

Susan laid a calming hand on his arm. "Peace, brother. Give Ed time to work this out."

The silence resumed. Peter opened his mouth several times but a pointed glance from Susan always made him close it again. Lucy shifted her weight from foot to foot. Davlon and Breejit glanced at one another nervously. Zia tried to occupy herself with memorising the pattern of lace on the front of Lucy's dress, but the task was impossible when she fidgeted so.

Finally, Edmund spoke again. To Zia's horror, his question was directed at her: "Do you know how many there are?"

Now that she had no choice, Zia looked up at him. Like Lucy, he was taller and leaner than before. Bands of muscle laced his body - he was not especially brawny like Peter, but his form imitated the graceful, flowing curves of a predatory cat. His gaze was level, but his chin tilted fractionally downwards. So many things about him were different, yet so many were exactly the same. His skin was the same shade of pale, splashed with faint freckles. His hair was black as midnight, although it now curved around his ears to hug his angled jaw. Zia's chest contracted achingly. She tried fixing her eyes on a point above his head but that did little to calm her erratic heartbeat.

"I'm not sure, Sire," she said, trying to sound as impassive as possible. "There were perhaps two hundred at Dancing Lawn from what I could see. There will almost certainly be more."

Edmund pursed his full, pink lips. "If there is an army headed for Cair Paravel then I see no other option. We must fight them."

Suddenly, Zia remembered the other part of her message. She addressed Peter so she wouldn't have to look at Edmund any longer. Somehow the High King seemed much less intimidating than first impressions had led her to believe. Perhaps this was down to the nervous shadow that now humbled his piercing stare.

"Your Majesty, my Empress wishes me to inform you that the Dryads of Western Wood offer their loyal services to your army. We too wish to rid Narnia of these intruders as soon as possible."

Peter started to say something in protest but Edmund cut him off. "Think about it, Pete," said the younger, wiser King, "Dryads cannot be killed by weapons, and I have heard many stories of their dexterity and prowess in battle. We could really use allies like them."

The High King looked at his brother for a long time before conceding. "Very well Ed, I trust your judgement. Tell your Empress that we shall be very glad of your support if this really does end in a battle." This last was addressed to Zia. Peter's blue eyes were warm and bore an uncanny resemblance to Nina's, allowing Zia to genuinely reciprocate his smile.

"I'm afraid a battle may be very likely," Susan added sincerely. "Tell your people to be prepared."

The words sent a chill down Zia's spine as she nodded. Peter started to mull over military tactics; he directed his musings towards Edmund but he barely listened. Lucy's cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with worry. Susan put an arm around her younger sister and led her away to rest in her chambers whilst she calmed down.

Whilst they were all distracted, Zia took the opportunity to make an escape. She motioned to Davlon and Breejit, who had remained absolutely silent throughout the whole exchange, listening intently. With one last hasty bow to Peter and Edmund, Zia exited the room with her friends in tow.

The chilly air in the corridor alerted Zia to how humid it had been in the throne room. Whether the temperature was due to the presence of the monarchs or the way the roof seemed to intensify the sunlight, Zia didn't know. All that mattered was that she had made it through unscathed. Usually being uncomfortable around beings of a high authority, she was proud of the way she had handled speaking with the Kings and Queens without appearing foolish. Above all, she had survived being forced to lay eyes upon the Just King, and now she would never have to see him again.

Apparently Edmund had other ideas.

Just as they reached the flight of steps leading down from the castle, the sound of footsteps drew the trio to a halt. Looking behind her, Zia groaned under her breath. Edmund was making his way swiftly towards them, urgency written all over his face.

"Is everything alright?" Davlon asked. He sensed the air around Zia crackle as she tensed in annoyance.

No."Yes," she replied, forcing her voice to sound cheerful. "Go on and wait with Bree and Seren. This won't take long."

Davlon continued to eye the King warily as he reached them, but the Centaur had been raised to respect a lady's wishes and so did as Zia asked. The Dryad folded her arms across her chest and set her jaw as she waited for Edmund to speak. His dark eyes were brimming with questions, the first of which came out as a feeble mutter.

"Where did you go?"

"I had to leave," she answered curtly.

Edmund winced and his dark eyes took on a wounded expression. "I looked for you," he said in a low voice.

Zia was taken aback – she hadn't expected that. She felt her resolve start to soften as his eyes burned deep into hers, beautiful and sad.

No, she couldn't give in. He had hurt her. She'd seen him with Pelerine and her heart had been crushed. She couldn't forget that pain.

"We only knew each other for one night," she reminded him levelly. "I'm still just a stranger."

She turned to go but his long fingers closed around her wrist.

"Let go of me," she growled vehemently.

"No," Edmund said stubbornly. His grip was like iron. "Not until you tell me why you left."

"I said let go!" she snapped, wrenching her hand away from him.

She took off, running blindly down the steps. Davlon waited at the bottom; he had already draped Breejit over Seren's back. With barely a pause, Zia leapt astride the mare. Davlon was beside her, ready in case she lost her balance. She didn't.

"Take us home, Davlon," she pleaded. "Now."

The stricken look on Zia's face prevented the Centaur from asking any questions. He clicked his tongue at Seren and the horse followed him away from Cair Paravel at breakneck speed.

Edmund could do nothing but stand and watch as the Dryad girl sped away from him for the second time.