I apologize to all my reviewers for making them wait for so long. But as usual I was incredibly busy studying for my mid years. Furthermore thank you to all my reviewers who take the time out to post their comments and advice. Thank you all. Anyways Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The Chronicles of Narnia do not belong to me. They belong to C. S. Lewis.

Isabela stared, staring yet unseeing as Dane's and Ginerva's caskets were bore by their pallbearers through the streets of the capital city of Corde. Her face was white and swollen. She had been crying for what? Hours maybe? Years it seemed.

Night had fallen on the land and the spidery trees, tall and gnarled, extended their claws in the darkness like the claws of a witch. Her slender figure was woven in a black dress, her long locks pulled into a fashionable coiffure. Her face was pale and her eyes swollen and surrounding by dark bruises which were stunning in contrast with her death like skin. The faint lights from the houses glittered into the night sky, like fairy lights hanging from the sky. Tiny droplets fell from the sky as if the heavens themselves were crying.

The rain gathered on her lashes and when she blinked they streamed down her face, making it seem as though she was weeping. Many people in the crowd were openly shedding tears. The new moon was hidden behind the grey clouds gathered together to celebrate the upcoming storm. She shivered clutching her fists against her sides.

Royalty and nobility from far and wide had attended the funeral. King Lune from Archenland, his face overcast along with his sons Prince Corin and Prince Cor, muscled and handsome with the tall and statuesque Princess Aravis. Though the Tisroc of Calormen had been unable to attend he had sent his son Prince Rabadash. And Isabela had hit off splendidly with him. If that included a strong urge to punch him and break his beloved nose.

Many neighbouring kings had sent their regret and expressed their sorrow as well but Isabela could see through their sad masks. Their hearts were dancing. Anytime now the wolves would attack. King Ashkan had come, another one of her father's general and a truly kind man, a great king. Isabela saw his round face bowed, fallen into lines of misery. Thousands of Dane's soldiers had journeyed for his funeral. His commanders, his generals, his lieutenants. All were there. Beside her walked Saberhagen in his over large robes, miserable and sad. Sola, Ginerva's sister and her two young, pretty nieces, Ilona and Elena were walking next to her, their dark gold curls weaving over their shoulders. Sola's face was puffy and red, her impossibly long blond hair unkempt. Over the years, thousands of time, she had protested that Ginerva worked too hard and did not care for herself. But Ginerva had always laughed and replied that her happiness lay with the happiness of the people of Liriope. Sola caught Isabela's eye and managed a small smile. Isabela barely saw her. At that time she felt a soft hand on her shoulder and looking up saw Lucy's face. Due to the increasing alliances only Lucy had been able to come out of all four siblings.

Hundreds of locals surrounded the streets their glazed eyes following the caskets, holding up blazing lanterns specks of light set against the night. Ginerva's red locks flowed over her shoulders set with beautiful white blossoms, her eyes closed, her hands folded and a tender smile on her lips. Dane was clad in midnight blue robes, his hair pulled into a short ponytail and his face stern yet peaceful. Isabela's eyes could not leave his face. Lorien…..James…..she thought. Where were they? Were they even alive?

Finally they stopped. Isabela's feet felt like lead and she dragged them restlessly, trying to maintain her posture. A small man no higher than Isabela's waist, with tufts of white hair stepped on the raised platform. He cleared his throat and spoke.

'Today…..we have gathered here to say our last farewells to our beloved king Dane II and his wife, Queen Ginerva. Their valiance, their determination, their honesty and their kindness struck a deep core within our hearts. …..Through they are gone, they shall remain immortal for their deeds made them invincible from all including death. Those who knew them shall always remember them no matter where they are. Their memories will live on forever. Farewell, Your Majesties.'

Isabela lost track of what he had said. Saberhagen nudged her slightly and Isabela snapped out of her trance. She walked to Dane's casket and bowing her head she managed to say.

'Dane, my dear brother…Ginerva, my beloved sister….g…goodbye.' she managed to choke out before stepping back. The small man raised his hand and murmured some words. Neatly, dirt placed itself on the caskets, taking them away from view. Isabela flinched.

'Come on, My Lady.' Saberhagen murmured. And somehow she managed to reach the castle, she didn't remember how. All she knew was that her heart was hollow and her eyes blurred. A cold wind blew around. Isabela shivered. Why did you leave me at the mercy of these wolves?

'What is going to happen now, My Lady?' Sade asked, clad in her elaborate robes of peacock blue and glistening violet, her hood lowered over her dark hair pulled into a bun. The resemblance between Isabela and her was masked by their eyes. Sade's were tilted and hazel while Isabela's were green, wide and tended to change shades. Isabela stared out of the window, from her room on the topmost floor.

'I don't know.' She replied monotonously. Iona, the youngest of her handmaidens, jumped up and down, in her similar robes. Her syllables were smooth and her voice rich with accent.

'It is your duty to know, My Lady. You are queen now.'

'I am not.' Isabela replied. 'I intend to give the crown to King Ashkan. He truly deserves it.'

Instantly, Sade and Iona started an uproar, protesting violently.

'But, My Lady, it is rightfully yours!'

'You are the queen! You must be!'

'There is no must about it.' Isabela said gently. 'My reasons for giving up the throne are many. He is favoured by many. By the principles of democracy, he is the ruler.'

'My Lady-'

'Please, Sade, I too intend to fight Liriope's enemies. But not as a queen, as an outsider, as a commoner. Liriope is a democratic nation and it shall be so forever.'

Sade bowed her head, her spare locks falling in her face.

'Yes.' She agreed. 'We shall go by what you say, My Lady. But, I need no seer to tell me that one day you will be queen.'

Isabela forced a smile.

'But that day is very far away.'

'Not very.' Iona said quietly. She opened her mouth to say more but was cut off by the glass doors sliding open. Saberhagen walked in followed by a tall man, his face wrinkled and gnarled but his eyes sharper than knives and more malicious than one could imagine.

'Your Highness, Sir Cainel would like a word.'

Cainel walked in; smiling sweetly like a python before it lunges at you. His face betrayed nothing of the hatred he felt for the young girl standing in front of him. Isabela felt Sade and Iona sashay behind her, their faces shadowed, their robes swirling around their slim figures.

'Cainel.' Isabela said stiffly, staring at his face, her face impassive and emotionless. 'What news do you bring?'

'My Lady.' He inclined his head. 'I am afraid I bring very grave news. The Imperial Senate has refused to accept our request to bring Vladimar to justice. They believe that we, as the victims, are greatly hallucinating and, in their words putting in false claims.'

'Or you have not worked hard enough.' Isabela corrected sharply. 'It is a matter of reasoning.'

'I fail to see the logic behind your reasoning, Your Highness.' He replied forcing a smile. 'But I can ensure you that I have tried to convince my fellow delegates of this invasion. They however wish to seek a proper investigation into this matter to conform if our suspicions are true.'

'They are not suspicions, they are facts.'

'None the less, they want to loge a month long investigation committee.'

'Our people have been murdered, Lord Cainel. We must do something quickly.'

'I believe our best interest is to lie low and to accept Vladimar's control.'

'That is something I cannot do.' Isabela replied coldly.

'My lord.'

Vladimar smiled disdainfully, tinkling his goblet sideways so that the wine slipped down in tiny droplets of blood red. The arched cave rose high above him, casting its huge shadow everywhere. Bats hung upside down from the rough branches, their eyes hungry. The servant scurried in, barely breathing.

'My lord, Rranar is here. He requests your presence.'

'Tell him to come in here. I am not willing to move from here.' He fingered the goblet.

'He…...he refuses to do so, my lord.'

Vladimar rose to his feet, his face cloaked in fury. He leaned next to the servant who trembled violently.

'What did you say?'

'He….he refuses to come to you, my lord' the servant replied naively. Vladimar's hand twitched and the servant fell down to the floor in a heap, his head lolling. He motioned to a guard.

'Call Rranar. Order him to come here or…..' he smiled, exposing his fangs. The guard rushed off, tripping over the servant in his haste.

He snapped his fingers impatiently. Stupid fools….Within a few seconds he heard a mighty rumbles shake the entire cave. He sighed dramatically, rising to his feet elegantly as a huge giant walked in, groaning with each step. A brown sack was wrapped around it, protecting it from the bitter cold of the mountains.

'Vladimar!'

'Lord.' He put in smoothly. Rranar roared.

'You insolent human! What have you come for? Speak up!'

'Foolish giant.' He replied icily. 'Do you know have any idea what I can do if I wish?'

He quietened immediately. Vladimar smiled silkily, stroking his cuffs. This would certainly be interesting…..

Susan Pevensie sighed, brushing back her black ringlets, pulled back with a beautiful aeilss flower, its petals alternating between closing and blooming. She rubbed her temples tiredly. Vladimar's conquest in the north had affected the treaties between many nations. What with alliances and delegations and diplomacy, she had her hands full! The mahogany doors echoed with a knock.

Glancing up she caught sight of her younger brother. Edmund smiled at her, lightly touching her shoulder.

'Dearest sister, you may be said to be the most desired woman over all lands but I'd change it to you being a ghost with long, long hair and a tendency to continually haunt me.'

Susan battled between her desire to laugh and to punch him but it ended with a small smile. Her brother was so dear; despite his occasional cruel jokes and humorous statements. She glanced affectionately at him. Catching her eye Edmund eyed her suspiciously.

'What are you thinking, Su?'

Susan laughed, her rich voice echoing around the walls. Lucy wandered in through the half opened door, a confused smile on her face, her deep red locks pulled into a messy bun. She was bewildered but she laughed none the less.

'Where is the High King?' Edmund asked, raising his eyebrows. 'Surely he cannot be late!'

'No.' Lucy agreed. 'Perhaps I should go and see-'

She stopped mid sentence as a thoroughly disgruntled Peter entered the vast chambers. His crown was tilted and his hair stood up to form what Susan considered to be the highest peak of the world.

'You called, dear sister?' he asked absentmindedly kissing Lucy's cheek. His hair was tousled badly. Lucy glanced nervously at her elder siblings. The apprehension and hesitation was clear in her eyes.

'Yes, Peter. But do sit first. Shall I call for tea?' Susan offered. Without giving him a chance to reply she rung a small tinkling silver bell. A small faun appeared in the doorway, bowing before the four monarchs.

'Prepare some tea for the High King.' Susan instructed. The faun nodded.

'Yes, my queen.' He dashed out of the room, his hooves making silent noises. Peter glanced at his sister sharply.

'I think you have something to tell me Su, am I right?'

'Of course our dear sister has something to tell you!' Edmund interjected. 'We have already agreed to the phrase that it will kill her to keep her mouth shut. Do you see her dead? Hm? No! It means her babbling and cackling is going to keep pinching us for a long, long, long time.'

He stopped to catch his breath, his cheeks red. Susan glared at him, clearly annoyed. Of all the obnoxious brothers….

She glanced back at Peter whose handsome face wore a confused expression mixed with a twinge of annoyance. If somebody wanted to say something to him they should just say it out.

She cleared her throat.

'Peter…we were just talking to Aslan.'

'Aslan?' Peter's eyes grew wide. 'He's here? Why didn't you tell me? Why did he come?'

'He came to inform us of…' Susan hesitated.

'Of?' Peter prompted. Susan gulped. There was no way out. She opened her mouth to reply but was cut off as golden light illuminated around the wide room. It seemed to glide through the thin air, in loops and pirouettes. Aslan.

His solemn face was fixed on Peter's who knelt down in respect. Lucy, as always, rushed to him, hugging him fiercely, her hands buried in his mane.

'Peter, my son, your sister wished to tell you of your upcoming marriage.'

There was stunned silence. In dread Susan scanned her elder brother's emotionless face. Oh Peter….. He stared at Aslan and the great lion stared back at him. Both were kings. And both knew how to stare.

Finally Peter spoke, his voice dazed.

'My marriage? Aslan please-'

Aslan held up his paw. He sighed softly.

'Peter….there are many things written in fate which neither I nor you can understand now can we change it. It is not in my power to manipulate fate or influence destiny. They run on their own. And fate has decreed that you marry. Infact it has already chosen your lifelong partner….. Isabela Petrova.'

To be continued…...

Okaaayyyy. So….Please, please review and give me your comments. The next update may take a little while. But I will continue the story.

A. Lily Potter