Disclaimer: I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia. C. S. Lewis does.

Onward!

…

Isabella glanced nervously at the full length mirror in front of her, brushing her fingers through her long, silken locks. She stared at her reflection. Surely this pretty stranger was not her, with her long, astounding dress and long ribbons and charming smile? But it was. She twirled around slowly. Susan's work no doubt.

The apple green silk dress, falling to her ankles, with Narnian painting upon the front flattered her slender figure and her curled locks fell over her shoulder. Her pale skin, whiter than snow, clashed perfectly with the dress. The slight make up only enhanced her natural beauty. Somebody knocked on the door and looking up Isabella saw Susan enter. As always the young queen's beauty struck her sharply and her jaw hung slightly open. The Gentle queen truly looked radiant, a true queen. Her luxurious curls were held up on her poised head by a golden crown, made with molten flowers; her coronation crown, the mark of her rule. She was clad in an amethyst colored gown which sparkled in each change of light. It too was painted lovingly by the Narnians for their queen.

'You look beautiful.'

'Thank you.' Susan smiled, glancing at the stunning dress. Her eyes glowed luminously as if remembering fond memories. 'Peter says it makes my eyes sparkle, Edmund says that it makes my skin glow and Lucy…..Lucy loves it.'

Isabella smiled softly, her eyes taking on a little sadness as she thought of her own brothers and sister-in-law back at Liriope. Susan caught the poignant note in Isabella's emerald orbs and clapped her hands together, saying.

'It is time to go. Shall we?'

Isabella laughed and followed Susan out of the room, closing the door behind her. The halls shone with soft lamplight, by the exquisite lamps on the tall walls, lightening everything they touched. The sound of gay voices and laughter reached Isabella's ears long before she saw the ballroom. The marble floor shone brightly, reflecting the mood of the occasion and the crowd of nobility from around the lands colored the room. She met the rest of the siblings and Asha in a large hall made of glass walls. Asha had recovered greatly, thanks to Lucy's healing, and other than her exceptionally pale skin, she looked radiant. The ankle length, sea green dress, with its silvery sequins, set off her stormy, somber eyes making them sparkle and her straight silvery blond hair fell in their perfect lines to her back. Standing beside her Lucy looked equally pretty, clad in a pale gold dress with the top covered in dark golden beads. Her red hair was pulled in a messy bun on top of her head, with few curled strands behind her ear. Peter leaning against the banister, his eyes closed was wearing a blue colored tunic with black leggings, his glittering cape flowing behind him matching his beautifully carved crown, and mahogany boots, his glinting sword at his side and beside him Edmund was wearing an a tunic colored different shades of green with silver leggings and the same mahogany colored boots rising up inches beneath his knee. His cape was colored silver matching his crown, perched on top of his head. Heidi was not present as she had pleaded a headache and retired early to bed. Edmund glanced up, waving brightly at Isabella, who shot him a flashing smile. Peter opened his eyes, exchanging a glance with Susan. Susan raised a delicate eyebrow but said nothing. Lucy bounded up to them, with an elegance which would put the highest queen to shame and took Isabella's arms in her hands.

'Come on! Come on! Come on!' she exclaimed, gesturing towards the ballroom. Isabella glanced at the room full of people and shook her head slightly. She had never been comfortable at balls. Even in Liriope. Lucy rolled her eyes and playfully pushed her forward. Asha laughed, the voice tinkling and murmured under her breath. Isabella shot her a dark glare which her best friend ignored. A smile appeared on Susan's face at their antics. She glided forwards, motioning for Edmund and Peter to follow them. Isabella glanced pleadingly at Lucy but the younger girl only burst into gales of merry laughter. Isabella crossed her hands together and lifted her head as she walked down the hallway with guests at either side, her heart thumping loudly. They stared at her, their gazes united into one. Isabella swallowed the lump in her throat. Music played from a corner, the fauns playing their instruments. Many couples danced in the spacious space in the middle of the ball room. Peter came up beside Isabella, leaning down to whisper in her ear.

'Come. We will introduce you to the royals of Archenland.'

He led Isabella gently by the arm leading her to a fat, jolly man who looked like Santa Claus or what Isabella imagined him to be. He had a bushy beard and merry, sparkling eyes on his old face. He was clad in a dark purple velvet tunic and loose brown-gold pants. He was standing beside a pretty girl with a water fall of ebony hair and wide, proud dark eyes and straight nose. In her features, Isabella detected noble blood because of her haughty demeanor. She wore a long pure white dress of swishy material which trailed behind her. Towering over her was a handsome, young man with wisps of blond hair falling beneath his ears, a wide smile on his face. Next to him was a man identical to him, twins, Isabella presumed, but the second man was much more muscular and well built. Standing next to them, was Susan speaking in her quiet voice showing her true graciousness and hospitality. As Isabella and Peter drew nearer, the elder man turned around and shot a wry smile at Peter. He took Isabella's hands in his, kissing them gallantly.

'And you must be the famous Lady Isabella!'

Isabella felt color rise to her cheeks and she ducked her head, nodding. The man chuckled.

'Well, Peter, it seems you have found the perfect partner!' He turned to Isabella. 'I am King Lune of Archenland.'

Isabella smiled, shaking his outstretched hand.

'It's a pleasure to meet you, sir.'

'Likewise, My Lady.' He replied warmly. The woman beside him, flashed Isabella a friendly smile.

'Lady Isabella, you must come and visit Archenland. We would like to know you better.'

Peter rolled his eyes but he was smiling as the man next to the woman, moved forwards and took Isabella's hand, brushing it lightly with his lips.

'I am Prince Cor and this is my wife, Princess Aravis.'

'Don't forget me!' the muscled boy, Cor's twin, protested loudly. Cor smiled wryly. 'And this is my brother Prince Corin.'

Corin beamed.

'A pleasure to meet such a beautiful lady!'

Isabella felt that her cheeks must be on fire. Out of nowhere, Edmund appeared, his dark hair tousled.

'Now, now Corin, stop complimenting Lia or I shall think you are having disgraceful thoughts.'

Instead of being offended, Prince Corin laughed, thumping Edmund on the back. Aravis raised a delicate eyebrow, speaking softly.

'Lia?'

'Lady Isabella.' Susan explained, pushing back her glossy curls. She smiled politely bidding the royals farewell and glided away, her gown trailing behind her. Peter turned to Isabella, holding out his hand.

'May I, My Lady?'

Isabella sighed. She glanced at him in despair.

'Do I have to? I am terrible at dancing.'

Peter had to bite his lip to keep from smiling and managed a solemn expression. He whispered to her.

'Nothing but my great chivalry can entice me to ask you to dance, My Lady.'

Isabella glared daggers at his head, her eyes flashing. Peter held up his hands in mock surrender, tilting his head to one side. Isabella sighed.

'Just get this over with.' She muttered, taking his hand. Peter smiled. He swept her on the dance floor, spinning her in circles and between twists, lifting her in the air. She hissed under her breath clutching his cape. Peter chuckled at her agony.

'Don't worry. I won't drop you.'

'I'm not worried about you dropping me.' She retorted, 'I'm worried about me tripping myself.'

Peter could not restrain himself and he burst into laughter. She stared at him, her expression injured.

'I'm not joking!' she exclaimed, swatting at him. Peter caught her wrist and with difficulty managed to stop chuckling.

'I never said you were.'

As the Narnian melody slowed down and stopped, Lucy went up to Peter tapping him on the shoulder. She smiled brightly.

'Don't I get my dance?'

Peter laughed and disentangling himself from Isabella he bowed and gestured to Lucy.

'Of course, Sir!' Isabella waved her hand. 'You're lady is waiting.'

She walked away, clasping her hands together as Peter and Lucy danced around in a graceful circle as the faun's struck up another tune. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Edmund and Asha next to King Lune and his sons and daughter-in-law. She smiled to herself as Edmund's face lit up while Asha looked equally radiant. They would make a beautiful couple. She hoped desperately that her long suffering friend would at last find happiness with the Just king. Her feet felt laden and she shuffled to a corner, sinking gratefully in a seat watching the world through shadows. As her emerald orbs, darkened to forest green, blinked for the briefest second she felt a sharp pain in her head. The suddenness and sharpness caused her to cry out softly. She clutched her head, rubbing her temples. Flashes shot through her head at an alarming rate but she was able to make out all of them.

Ginevra stood on top of the cliff, her long hair flying wildly like a chestnut banner, overlooking the courtyard of Liriope, her right arm pulled back, her eyes narrowed as she took an aim. The arrow let out a whooshing sound as it flew against the wind stabbing an armored man. He fell down, his hand rising to his bloodied chest. Ginevra did not lose time and again and again she struck her bow, shooting into the enemy lines.

Isabella gasped out, her vision swimming. She dropped her head in her arms. She doubled over as another vision appeared to her.

Dane wove his sword in complex patterns, slashing and stabbing, shaking his head to toss the hair out of his eyes. His sword, glinting in the sun, flying a deadly arc stabbing a man. Within seconds he had cleared a great space around him. A yell sounded above his head and he turned around, inquiry upon his face. She saw horror on Ginvera's face, frozen.

She stood up, suddenly, and the quick movement made her lose her balance. She clutched the chair, her knuckles turning white as her face went paler and paler. She moved swiftly out of the ball room, the laughing voices echoing in her ears together with the clash and clang of swords and the whooshing of arrows. She cried out, leaning against the wall to the empty hallway.

A small child gazed up out of the shadows of his bed as the door banged wildly, almost flying off his hinges. His mother screamed, caught in the act of hiding her young daughter, holding a new born baby in her arms. The boy covered his ears but his widened eyes missed nothing as the enemy forced their way into the house, slamming his mother against the wall. Her screams for mercy pierced the air as the other streamed around throwing the wailing baby against the door. The boy tried to close his eyes but he could stills see everything, hearing his younger sister's screams and shrieks and his mother's pleas. Then it stopped and the men stormed out, laughing, smirking leaving death in their path. And as the boy made to get out, the roof collapsed in a whirl of bricks, stones, dust and concrete. The boy cried out, covering his head with his hands as the bed gave out and everything toppled upon him and his dead family.

She did not know how she made it to her room, her hair flying around her, her face stricken. She flung the door shut and it banged loudly. Before she could reach her bed, she fell to the ground, crying out again as her head pained sharply. What was going on?

Cries rang around the battlefield as the setting sun caused the silver armors to glint. Clanging sounded as sword met sword, face to face in the last showdown, which would determine the victor. Screams, shrieks pierced the cool air as the hilted swords, raised high, came down upon enemies…..

'Lia!' Asha's alarmed cry entered her mind and within seconds, Asha's cold arms went around drawing her close. 'What is it?'

Isabella glanced up, through her bangs to see Asha's worried eyes. She smiled weakly, trying to sit up.

'I'm alright.' Her voice was so faint, it frightened her. Her blurry vision focused to see Lucy leaning over her, frowning; her expression concerned and behind her in the hallway stood Peter, his face white and anxious. Isabella closed her eyes and Asha murmured soothingly, patting her hot forehead. 'Really. It's nothing.'

'Oh yes. We could hear your cries down the hall.' She did not have to open her eyes to see Peter's sarcastic expression. 'That's nothing, really.'

Her eyebrows came together in a rush and seeing her eyes flutter open and glare at him, Peter smiled.

'Now you're well. I can see by your scowl.'

Lucy rolled her eyes but her relief was evident and she ran her fingers through Isabella's hair. Asha spoke up, quietly.

'What happened, Lia?'

'I…I do not know.'

Lucy glanced back at Peter who was frowning heavily, leaning against the doorway. He sighed and met Isabella's eyes.

'We'll talk later.'

'I can't believe I'm saying it but I agree with Big Head over there.' Isabella sat up, nodding swiftly. Lucy giggled and Asha wore a faint smile on her ruby red lips.

'Excuse me?' Peter said indignantly. 'I_'

'Oh shut up!'

…

Lorien glanced up, shielding his eyes from the rising sun. The man standing beside him, lunged at him but in a swift movement Lorien stepped aside and brought his sword straight at the man's back ending his life. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ginevra's vibrant hair, flying abundantly in the soft early morning breeze, a banner of red. She drew back her arm and shot the aimed arrow and Lorien turning around saw a man collapse at his feet. He could have sworn he saw her dim smile. The hours had fled quickly and smoothly, not leaving a trace behind. It seemed as if the battle had been going on forever. He raised his sword and lunged forwards, his sword slashing and stabbing anyone within reach. The warriors of Liriope were few in numbers while the invading enemies were endless; their numbers were immortal. No matter how many he killed, they seemed to come back. All of them. Line after line of glinting armor with sharp swords and pierced daggers. He spun around under their defenses clearing a great space around him. Desperation plucked him. They were too short in numbers. Many were fatally injured, others still fighting, fighting to the end for what was theirs. For the first time, Lorien felt comradeship with his people. They too were fighting for Liriope, shedding their blood for their land, for swelling acres and their ancient homes. Just as he was. They marched out, yelling, shouting, and plunging their weapons into the hearts of anyone who threatened them. They were one. He moved his sword in complex movements and turned only when he heard someone scream his name, inquiry plain upon his face. His eyes widened as the blade flew in a deadly arc, coming straight at him. He raised his sword in defense and felt blade meet blade and looking up he met Vladimir's scarlet eyes, filled with hatred and amusement. He grinned, showing off his sharp teeth.

'Lorien! Pleasure.'

…

The doors leading to the castle burst open and the retreating warriors fled in, bloody, exhausted. Some collapsed on the way, others staggered to the main hall filled with the wounded. In the midst of it, James glanced around for his brothers and sister-in-law but he did not see them anywhere. For an instant he thought he saw Ginevra's red hair in the crowd but it disappeared.

'James! James!'

He turned around, too tired to feel relief at the sight of his elder brother. Lorien was paler than snow; a long gash ran down the length of his cheek but for all his wounds it seemed to James that his brother was enjoying himself. He gestured to an empty room lit by lamps.

'Come. Everyone is there.'

'Everyone?' James asked, heart in his throat. Lorien looked ill at ease as he answered.

'Ginny. She's…she's missing.'

James felt a lump in his throat. Ginny? That fun loving girl with the sweetest, brightest personality? Not her. Anyone but her. Tears formed in James's eyes, though if they were from soot and dust or sorrow and pain he did not know. Lorien patted his shoulder but looking up James saw his brother's young face all in bitter, harsh lines.

They walked in together. The room was indeed lit by the few available lamps and in the faint light, James saw Dane's dust streaked face, his eyes filled with grief. He was leaning over a battle map with some of his highest commanders there. Their clothes were torn, their faces bloody, their bodies exhausted. Dane seemed to be explaining something to them and as James and Lorien neared he dismissed the others so that only the three brothers were left in the room. Lorien gazed at him, bewildered by the abrupt dismissal. Dane smiled faintly.

'Lorien, James, I have made a decision and I order you, as your king not your brother, to abide it.'

They looked at each other, their eyes flashing with surprise. Dane crossed his arms behind his back and walked around the room. He spoke up.

'I won't lie to you. They have us. They will win so do not despair over this. For now we have important things to discuss.'

'Such as?' Lorien asked, rubbing his forehead tiredly. 'What's the plan?'

'There is no plan.' The swiftness of the answer made James recoil back. He looked from Dane to Lorien. 'But take heart from this. We will die but never surrender.'

And as the sun rose for the second time over the war torn Liriope, it did not rise to embrace a civilization, it rose to see the destruction and fall of a mighty country but with the new dawn hope in the shape of two young men, fled away to hide until they could revive their homeland..….

…

Ta da! Now the story begins. Reviews please! I was sad to see only one review for the last chapter. But no matter! But I do request you to give me your opinion. Thanks!

A. L. Potter