Author's Note: I apologize for taking so long to update. But I had a busy, busy schedule. I apologize again. But fear not! I shall continue this story until the end…..Hopefully…..Probably….

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

…

'We should stop here.'

Peter dismounted from his elegant mount, his cloak flying. Isabela jumped down too, her expression distasteful as she glanced around.

'Not what you're used to, princess?' Peter asked sarcastically, catching her expression.

'You're one to talk, my king.' She shot back. 'I can scarcely imagine you living in a simple house.'

Peter did not answer. Isabela glanced at him curiously.

'I am right, am I not?'

'You cannot always be right, My Lady. No one is perfect.'

Isabela raised a delicate eyebrow, moving ahead of him and glancing around. A thick forest engulfed them from all around. Green leaves fluttered around on long, gnarled branches, clawing the invisible air. There was no sound. Not even the screeching of an eagle. Isabela glanced around nervously, dragging her feet over the mossy ground. She pricked her ears as she heard the rustling of leaves. Something or someone was behind her. She turned around, narrowing her eyes. Her heart was in her throat and she saw a small shadow.

Suddenly she felt a tug on her hand and she let out a shriek of surprise. The thing holding her hand to bounded back. She glanced down through her silken hood, into the face of a young boy. He was barely nine with full, white cheeks and dark blond hair falling into his dancing eyes surrounded by purple bruises and long, long lashes. He gazed up at her.

'Are you an angel, My Lady?'

'What?' Isabella asked, tucking a strand behind her ear nervously. The boy beamed turning over the toy in his hand.

'An angel. People say that the moon reflects on their faces and they are so beautiful that the trees themselves sigh as they pass by.'

Isabella raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. Peter guffawed. She shot him a glare.

'You're an odd child. How do you know so much?'

'My mother told me that. I'm Adam. Who are you?'

Isabella glanced at Peter, who scrambled through the bushes trying to catch his breath. He surveyed Adam gravely. Isabella touched Adam's cheek lightly.

'I'm Lia and this is Peter.'

Adam bowed his head, smiling politely at Peter.

'Do you live here, Adam?'

'Over there.' He pointed to a large cluster of poplar trees, swaying sorrowfully in the wind. A small thatch hut lay beneath it, with straw and occasional pieces of wood. Adam took her hand leading her to the hut.

'Come, Lia. I want you to meet my mother.'

'I would be honored Adam.' She signaled to Mr. Tumnus to join them. He scurried forwards, muttering. 'Do you live alone, you and your mother?'

Adam nodded silently. Peter clapped him lightly on the shoulder.

'Do you go to school?'

'No. I work here.'

Isabella stopped abruptly meeting Peter's eyes.

'You're a servant?'

'I'm a human being! Like you!' Adam said angrily. 'I have the same feelings as you! I am no different!'

'I'm sorry, Adam.'

He relaxed slightly, trying to bring forth a smile. Patting her hand, he hurried forwards, calling excitedly:

'Mother! Mother! Come! Look!'

The front door creaked and a woman stepped out, clad in a stiff gray dress, spreading around her, embroidered ever so slightly around the edges. She had a heart shaped face, high cheekbones and full lips. Her gray eyes were wide and shadowed by inky lashes. She smiled holding out her arms for Adam. He rushed to her, like a hurricane and she kissed his red cheek.

'Mother, this is Lady Lia and Sir Peter.' He motioned to them. 'This is my mother, Shmi Varens.'

'What a pleasure to meet you.' Shmi smiled. Her voice was rich and her accent smooth. Peter bowed, brushing her hand lightly with his lips.

'Likewise, Lady Shmi.'

She seemed fond of smiling and the dimples beside her lips and the wrinkles beside her eyes suggested so. She gestured to the small house, placing her hands on Adam's shoulders. Isabela glanced at Peter who was surveying their surrounding, the rustling bushes and the tall trees. He caught her eye and nodded slightly. They followed Shmi and Adam into the house bending low to avoid bumping their heads.

It was a humble and simple dwelling. There were only small blankets spread out on the floor to sleep on and a small table set with wild flowers in another room. As soon as they entered a small dog came bounding to them. Golden in color and friendly in manner it twirled around the newcomers, licking their hands.

'You live here?' she asked gazing around her.

'Yes.' Shmi answered, bustling around and bringing forth a small tray set with tea cups.

'Madam, please, we do not wish to be a burden on you.' Peter said, helping her to set it around.

'It is no problem.' She replied, gesturing to them to settle down. Adam came running in sitting beside Isabela.

'Lia, where are you from?'

'We are from Narnia.' Peter replied smoothly. 'We are here to visit some relatives.'

'You are married?' Adam asked curiously, his eyes wide. Shmi shot him a stern glance as she caught their deep blushes.

'Adam…it is not our place to ask such a question.'

Isabela shook her head.

'No, Adam. We are not married. We are….cousins.'

'Oh…But you look good together.'

'Adam! Hush!'

Heat flooded Isabela's cheeks. Shmi took Adam in her lap, scolding him silently.

'But it's true!' he protested. Peter grinned, running a hand through Adam's hair ruefully.

'You are a sharp young boy.'

Adam beamed, waving his small fists about. Shmi smiled lightly, glancing at the visitors.

'Why have you stopped so far from the city? Rarely do people stop here, in the wilderness.'

'We…we heard of an attack on Liriope.' Isabela hesitated. 'Is it true?'

Shmi's face was impassive, her expression thoughtful

'I'm sorry, young one. I do not know, for we live so far away. But…..my employer has not contacted me for a long time. It is most unlike him. But why do you ask?'

'We do not wish to attract unwanted attention.' Peter replied. 'And-'

He stopped. Isabela heard it too. The faint voices, the harsh orders. In stunned silence her eyes met Peter's. His hand flew to his sword and he jumped up, rushing out of the hut. Isabela followed close behind, only just managing to stop tripping over her cloak.

By the time she untangled herself, she could see dozens of soldiers rushing on Peter and towards the hut.

She scrambled to pull out her sword, lunging blindly. It was a wild theory but effective. The soldiers inched away from her as her sword managed to gash them some place or else.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Adam's small frame practically dancing through the soldiers. He was an excellent warrior and many fell back as he approached. His weapon glinted and Isabela saw that it was a knife. Her eyes widened.

Only the swiftest and most cunning warriors could use a knife so effectively. Panting Peter lunged to Adam's group of enemies. Several flew away, rushing away into the thicket of trees. Isabela made to move after them but Peter called.

'Don't! They may have reinforcements!'

'But they'll alert the guards to double the security!'

'They're no guards.'

Peter knelt down on the ground and Adam leaned above him, his expression excited. Isabela huffed but settled beside them as well. She saw a bag of gold, heavy and bulging. Her eyes met Peter's.

'They're thieves!' she whispered. 'Gamblers!'

Shmi moved up beside them, biting her lip.

'Gamblers are not uncommon in these parts. They must have been searching for treasury.'

But Isabela could see that Peter thought differently.

'We'd better move on.' He said, standing up and brushing his tunic. He offered a hand to Adam.

'So long, little one.' He nodded politely to Shmi. 'Farewell , My Lady.'

'We thank you for your hospitality.' Isabela added. She took Adam's hands in hers.

'Goodbye, Adam. I hope I see you again.'

Adam beamed, moving up beside his mother.

'I hope that too, my lady!'

…

Isabella leaned against the half broken pillar. Her green orbs scanned the grounds, like a hungry cat. Her heart rose to her throat and she felt her eyes sear violently. Liriope…..Destroyed….shattered….it couldn't be. She clenched her fists until she could feel the nails cutting across her flesh. People were spread out over the burned grounds, sitting on blankets, wailing, screaming for their loved ones and some staring off somewhere, anywhere… She felt a warm hand clasp her shoulder and she looked up into Peter's eyes, stretching away forever like a sea.

'We should move on.' He murmured. 'We could be recognized.'

Self consciously, Isabela withdrew into the shadows of her thick cloak with the finest Narnian embroidery on the sleeves. She followed Peter as he slinked off, sharp as a predator, his eyes searching the grounds. Her eyes fell around her. The scene was terrifying. She could feel her people's anguish. Her own despair. Each glance reminded her of her grandfather's sacrifices to regain the land, her grandmother's bravery, her father's determination, her mother's tact, Dane's perception, Ginevra's diplomacy, Lorien's knowledge, James's gentleness. All they had done for Liriope. It was all gone.

Angrily, she touched her eyes, wiping away the invisible tears. Peter gestured to her to move on. She could feel his sympathetic but impatient glance at the back of her head.

The town square was a picture of destruction. Wood splinters lay everywhere, scattered glass and cement stones lying limply over the ground.

Isabela glanced around fretfully. Beside her she felt Peter tense. Her eyes caught sight of a few men weaving their way through the people. In stricken silence her eyes met Peter's. Soldiers! He mouthed. Certainly not thieves. Isabela ducked out of their sight, pushing her way into a low roofed dwelling, still standing erect. It was covered with lichens and mossy ferns. Peter ducked in behind her, his blond head nearly banging against the door way in his hurry.

'I'm starting to regret coming here.' She muttered. Peter glared at her.

'I'm starting to regret ever volunteering to come. And with you! Oh the horror!'

Out of breath, she bent against the wall. She barely registered soft footfalls until a voice floated in.

'Either way you were unwise to come here in broad daylight, Your Highness.'

She glanced up. A hooded, young girl stood there, her hands clutching a tray bearing burned cookies. She could see soft flashes of blond in her hair. The girl smiled, setting down her tray. Her thin frame seemed unnaturally bony in the waves upon waves of velvet cloak.

'I'm Siobhan Wolfheart.'

What a fitting name, Isabela mused. She certainly seemed like a wolf. Beautiful, frightening yet mysterious all the same. Peter cleared him throat. Siobhan glanced at him, surprised as if only noticing him now.

'And High King Peter! I did not see you, Your Majesty. A great mistake on my part, I fear.'

Peter harrumphed, shaking his head.

'Are the soldiers gone?'

'I would not say so, no.' she replied peeking out through the window. 'But it is better if you wait until nightfall to go to the palace.'

She bent down and waved her hands.

'Chai.' She said clearly and immediately the cups filled with green tea, swimming around like a greenish, lucid moat. She raised an eyebrow, gesturing towards the cups. Isabela held back. She could be an enemy. Easily. And she knew them so well… As if she had read Isabela's thoughts, Siobhan smiled knowingly.

'I am not a traitor though I am many other things….'

Her voice trailed off darkly. Isabela's eyes fell on the candles set around the roo, some lit, others waxed out in exclusive patterns. Siobhan brightened.

'I will tell you your destiny….that which I can see. Come.'

Nervously, they glanced at one another. Siobhan had already settled down and she tugged at Isabela's hand observing it with an ardent eye.

'I see…great things in store for you. An epic romance shall twirl around you, many trees of life will wither and die…..friends…..relatives…..family…..You will loose many and find many….and lose those too. In the end you shall be alone no matter what….but wait…..I still see a flicker, a hope…'

'What?' Isabela asked bewildered but stricken. Trees of life? No more? Does that mean death?

'I cannot say.' Siobhan whispered finally. 'It is done.'

'Who will die? Who?' Isabela nearly shouted from panic. Siobhan glanced at her, a tight look about her.

'I cannot say, My Lady. Perhaps the High King can tell us for, for certain your fate's are entwined…..but never joined.'

'What are you talking about? Why speak in riddles?' Peter asked her, his eyes narrowed and cold. 'I do not believe you.'

A faint smile appeared on Siobhan's pale face. She offered him her hand.

'Seers often speak in riddles. It is our destiny.'

Peter stared at her apprehensively but he agreed none the less. Siobhan did not speak for the longest time.

'I see many things for you….same as your companions…..you shall rule magnificently, as is your title but your heart will remain open to many. But beware, High King, you shall be fooled by someone and because of that you will lose someone, someone special…..Be careful…And just for that I have given you the benefit of qualm. Don't mess up.'

She smiled and got up, swirling to the door and she pulled it open.

'Everything is clear now!' she said brightly. 'You are free to go. I won't keep you.'

Peter stared at her, clearly put on by her strange attitude.

'Come on, Big Head!' Isabela hissed. 'We haven't got all day.'

'After you, Princess.' He said sarcastically, holding open the door for her. She shook her head and ducked out; ignoring Peter's muttering ad mumbling.

…

'Princess Lia!'

'Saberhagen!'

Isabela threw herself in the old man's arm, his wispy goatee tickling against her head. She could have wept with joy. Saberhagen. One of the links to the old days. Her father's trusted friend, his fellow commander.

'Huff! You will leave an old man with no breath at all!'

Out of the corner of her eye, Isabela saw Peter nod his head respectfully and Saberhagen bowed down.

'My King.'

'My Lady, if it is of no concern to you, I shall be returning to my homeland now.'

'Why should I be concerned by your safety?'

Peter scowled at her before slipping out of the huge room, his shadow lurking behind him. Isabela turned to the plump, old man.

'Where are my brothers? And Ginny? Where are they?'

She was sure she saw Saberhagen gulp and his eyes became solemn, his voice grave.

'We…Your Highness….we found no sign of Lorien and James. None at all. But,' he added hastily. 'We are sure they are alive and not captives of the enemy.'

'Then where are they?' Isabela asked, fear and anxiety coursing through her.

'We do not know.' Saberhagen admitted unhappily. 'I'm sorry, My Lady.'

'But what of Dane and Ginny?'

'Lady Ginevra suffered extreme injuries from a poisonous dagger. She…she lost her children…'

'She's dead?' Saberhagen marveled at Isabela's self control. She was a princess through and through. He nodded, his eyes filling up with tears.

'How did she die?'

'She smiled and said your name. Will you come upstairs, My Lady?'

Slowly, Isabela wound her way up the velvety stairs, moving as if every step was painful. Dane. Where was he?

'Where is the King, Saberhagen? Take me to him.'

Saberhagen looked troubled but he obliged, weaving through the various halls. At last he stopped abruptly, watching her intently.

'My Lady….you should know….'

Isabela did not listen to him. She pushed open the door, pulling back her hood, her dark locks fluttering about her shoulders. She stopped short and her face drained of all color.

Dane glanced up tiredly, his face weary and battered, his hair standing in all directions. An almost unworldly smile lit up his face when he focused in on her.

'Lia.' He murmured through sharp gasps of breath.

Isabela knelt next to him, taking her hand in his.

'Yes. Yes. It is me Dane. '

Dane searched her face anxiously. He's not afraid of dying, Isabela realized bitterly. He's afraid what will happed to me after he dies.

'Do not grieve, Lia.' He said softly. 'My time has come. I am thankful I lived long enough to see your face once again.'

He gasped out, his breathing raspy and labored. His eyes flashed as he gazed dreamily to the painted ceiling.

'I am going to them, Lia. And you, darling sister of mine, shall come to us.'

His hand fell limp in hers and his parted eyes closed, his lashes fluttering. Isabela stared at him, unable to see, unable to cry. No. No! A part of her screamed. It could not be. Fog clouded her vision. No. No. No! In a flash Siobhan's words came back to her. Death…..she had spoken of death….Isabela reflected back.

She was unaware of Saberhagen's gentle words, distant voice soothing her. She knelt her face beside Dane and the tears began to flow freely. Somewhere, someplace she heard a lion's magnificent roar and its final echoes rang around the room. It was over.

…

Ta da! Finally! Reviews please! I would greatly appreciate them!'

A. L. Potter