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

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Peter sat down ruffling his fair hair. He clasped his long cloak draping it artistically over the side of the chair, leaning back and taking a long breath.

'Tired?' A sweet, familiar voice said. 'So soon?'

'Lucy!' Peter called exasperated. 'Why is it that you are always everywhere?'

Lucy winked; brushing back her long rich red hair tied back now with an apricot ribbon. She laughed delightedly at the compliment.

'Why thank you, my dear brother! I am more than pleased by your charming compliment.'

'It was my pleasure, my queen.' Peter replied dramatically, hand over heart. Lucy clapped her hands.

'I am glad you are in good spirits, dear brother of mine. It pleases me greatly.'

Peter tried to put on a smile for her sake but Lucy was too sharp to not notice that it did not reach his sea blue eyes. She touched his shoulder lightly.

'Mood swings again?' she asked softly. 'Did something happen between you and Lia?'

'No nothing happened between me and Lia.' He replied resentfully, his tone sharper than knife. 'Why should something happen?'

'Just because you are unhappy and angry does not mean that you should take out your anger on us, Peter!' Lucy replied quietly, her tones low, her eyes flashing. 'What's wrong?'

'I'm sorry, Lu. I am just tired.'

'And you should be. After all the commotion of the previous week.' Lucy said, rubbing his arm comfortingly. 'Tell me, did you dance yet?'

Peter groaned. 'Tell me who I have not danced with yet. I could not refuse any lady. It would be inappropriate.'

'I can tell you one person you haven't danced with yet.' Lucy told him. She motioned towards the dark corner of the ball room. 'A girl you should have danced with at the very beginning.'

Peter's face hardened to marble.

'I suppose you are referring to Lia?' he asked stonily. Lucy got up, taking his hands in her soft ones.

'Please Peter.' She practically begged. 'Look what others might think. The High King did not dance with his own wife on their wedding day.'

He did not answer and finally released a long sigh dropping his head in his hands. He got up, brushing his tunic and stalked away but Lucy smiled slightly when she saw his direction was towards Lia.

'You have done good, dear one.' A soft voice said behind her. Lucy turned around, her face lighting up as if by magic.

'Aslan!' she cried throwing her arms around him. Aslan's warm laughter rang around the hall.

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Isabela turned around from the large window when she heard a small noise. It was of light footsteps lithe and graceful, like a forest cat's. Her heart clenched as she saw a long, well built form standing silhouetted in the shadows. Finally the figure stepped into the star light which reflected off its blond almost golden hair. Peter. She turned back.

'I wonder why you are here?' she said sarcastically. Peter's face was hard. She cringed lightly.

'Will you dance with me?' he asked in the same cold, proud voice. She swallowed. He was obviously angry but then she nodded. After all she could not refuse her husband for this dance. She took his hand still unsure.

He placed his large hand on her waist, spinning her around absentmindedly, staring at Isabela who shifted uncomfortably under his strong gaze.

'How are you, Isabela?' His question surprised and startled her and she put on what she hoped was a bewildered expression.

'I am…..fine?' she answered, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. 'And you?'

A faint smile flashed on his full, sculpted lips and he cocked his head to one side.

'You really don't know what I am talking about, do you?' he asked almost mockingly.

Isabela flushed and replied hotly. 'It is not my fault if you are talking nonsense!'

There. She had done it now and she bit her tongue in expectation of his anger. But he did not answer. A cool mask ran over his fine face and it frightened her more than his anger.

'It was a simple comment, my lady Isabela.'

'And what I said was also a simple comment.'

Peter did not reply and only shook his head at the remark, his jaw tight.

'I had hoped that we could put aside our differences and try to get along. But if that is what you want….' He stopped. Isabela swallowed.

'But that is not what you truly want do you?' she guessed. Peter sighed.

'Do I have to be reminded constantly that this wedding was against my wishes? That is past and now we are married. There is nothing we can do about it. For my family, for Aslan and for my own sanity I want us to live in peace and harmony even if we do not love each other. Is that so difficult?' he asked her. Silence made her throat dry and she could only stare at him. Peter continued. 'I did not want this. And I know that you too did not want this. But now we must live together. Bitterness and harsh words will not help us change this. Do you understand?'

'I am not a child!' she managed to choke out. 'Do not treat me like one!'

'You are certainly behaving like one.' He said coolly.

For that instant she hated him. Hated him for his cool demeanour, for his ability to hide his displeasure and for knowing her so well. She envied him for being able to keep his emotions locked up and to be so cold and proud and emotionless. She hated herself too. For being too expressive and too emotional.

Traitorous tears itched at her eyelids and she angrily pushed them back. She lowered her eyes on the floor so that Peter would not see them.

'You're crying?' he sounded amazed, unbelieving.

'No!' she replied, running an arm over her eyes. 'The bright light hurt them.'

'You are not good at lying, my lady.' He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

'And you are not good at consoling.' She retorted, glaring up at him, her eyebrows rushing together, her expression fierce as a cat's. He noticed and a wan smile crossed his features.

'I see you are well now. I can see that by your expression.'

'Oh can you, my king? I am glad that you are able to read me so clearly.' She said spitefully. He smiled again.

'Now I am sure you are alright.'

'Of course I am alright, you-!' she stopped, realizing that she was talking to the High King. One who currently had a dark expression on his face. He bowed stiffly.

'The dance has ended, my lady. I bid you a good night.' He said, walking away by taking long strides.

Edmund sneaked up behind her, his expression curious. 'Oh dear' he said, sounding like an old grandmother. 'I suppose my dear little Peter is suffering from depression again. I'd better check on him if that is alright with you, little girl.' He offered her a bright smile.

'Will you accept my offer for the next dance?' he winked, flourishing his hands in waves. Isabela's smile died before it reached her lips and she nodded lightly.

Alright….

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Aslan cleared his throat loudly, his throat roaring lightly. Still it sounded like thunder and the guests silenced.

More like rumbled. Isabela thought amusedly. Aslan signalled to her come forward and with a lump in her throat she did, trying hard to keep her face blank and careless. She failed miserably.

Peter and his siblings all stood beside their respective thrones but both Isabela and Aslan stood a few steps ahead, both glittering in the lights of the ball room. Every single eye was on them.

'Sons and Daughters of Adam you are not here only for the wedding of the High King of Narnia but you are here to witness the crowning of Narnia's only High Queen who shall have full authority and right over all the present and future kings and queens of Narnia.'

It went quiet, so quiet that you could here the drop of a water echo around the entire castle. Isabela glanced wildly at Aslan, her face bewildered but then she heard the deafening roar of a lion in her ear and she closed her mouth. Aslan…. What are you doing?

Then the Narnians surged forwards clapping and waving their hats and scarves wildly, crying delightedly. Aslan smiled slowly and then turned his full gaze on Isabela who suddenly had to look down, his gaze was severe but serene.

'Kneel, daughter of Eve.'

Isabela did so, letting her gown flow loosely around her making it extremely uncomfortable but she stayed still.

'Tell me Isabela, will you accept your title as the High Queen.'

'That….that depends on what you say, Aslan.' She murmured, her head bowed. Aslan looked at her with his huge golden eyes, beautiful in all their glory.

'And if I say you are not meant to be the High Queen?' he questioned.

'Then I shall refuse.'

Aslan chuckled, his face breaking into bright lines of understanding.

'I sense you are telling the truth child. It is only fair to make you the High Queen, you being the wife of High King Peter and a person who possesses all the qualities of a leader.'

Isabela's coiffure hair draped itself over her shoulder as Aslan spoke again.

'Do you promise to uphold the rules of justice, peace, honesty and righteousness?'

'Yes.' Isabela said solemnly.

'Do you swear to do what is right for your people and work for their betterment and integrity?'

'Yes.'

'Do you promise to be a fair, kind ruler to these people? Do you promise to help them when in need? Do you swear to let them correct you if you are wrong and for you to correct them if they are wrong?'

'Yes.'

'Do you pledge to keep all the promises you have made?'

'Yes.' Isabela said quietly, her heart thudding until it felt like it would burst. She was vaguely aware of Aslan motioning to the Beavers who stood at a corner but she kept her head down. Then she felt light hands touch ever so slightly the crown of her head and she raised her head.

Gasps sounded all around her and she glanced anxiously, a cold fist closing over her heart, at Aslan who nodded comfortingly. She heard someone whisper.

'Queen Helen's coronet!'

'Yes, Son of Adam.' Aslan all but roared. 'It is the coronet of Queen Helen, the first monarch in the line from whom all the future kings and queens of both Narnia and Archenland descended. It is only right that this crown goes to the High Queen of Narnia.'

Murmurs of agreement broke out amongst the gathered people and then Lucy stepped forwards, raising her right hand.

'Welcome, High Queen Isabela.' She spoke lowly before turning to Aslan. 'I pledge alliance to her.'

Aslan smiled at her and said something which made Lucy's face break into a thousand smiles. Edmund came forward next, over dramatic and humorous as always.

'My High Queen Isabela, it would indeed be my pleasure, my delight, my joy, my duty to pledge myself to your righteous services for the betterment of Narnia. I am overjoyed to see a beautiful, gracious and kind woman like you become the High Queen because quite frankly I've just had about enough of the over bearing, arrogant, ugly, bossy, obstinate High King and I welcome you in the hope that you will be the complete opposite of him.'

'Ed.' Peter growled slowly. Edmund looked up with feigned surprise.

'Oh dear me! Have I said wrong? Because if I have, I ask for your whole hearted forgiveness my High Queen and of course my High King, please.' He bowed amusingly low and opened his mouth to say more but Susan cut him off.

'Oh Ed! Will you let me come forward now?' she asked frustrated. Edmund bowed again.

'Of course dear sister. Goodbye, my queen.' He said, pretending to wipe off a tear and everyone including Aslan laughed at his amusing antics. Susan mock-pushed him, pretending to scold him as he strutted away. She then turned to Isabela who once again was astounded by the sight of her beauty.

'Isabela.' She embraced her lightly. 'High Queen of Narnia! Of course I accept you as such and promise to accept your authority and power over me.'

Isabela tried to smile but it would not come and then the moment she had been dreading came as she felt Peter's long shadow wash over her. She felt his impassive eyes and almost flinched back at their coldness.

'Peter.' Aslan seemed to chide him lightly but nobody would have noticed this.

'I pledge my services and allegiance to you, High Queen Isabela.' He said formally. 'And I hope that you shall keep true to your promises and govern Narnia well and love it as we do.'

'I already do, High King Peter.'

For an instance a shadow of a warm smile crossed his face but then it disappeared and Isabela blinked feeling she must have imagined it. Aslan turned around facing the Narnians.

'People of Narnia, I hereby declare Isabela, wife of High King Peter of Narnia, daughter of King Leonard and Queen Elizabeth of Liriope, from the Royal House of Petrova and Pierce as your lawful High Queen declared by Aslan, emperor of Narnia, high king over all high kings and son of the emperor over the sea. I give her full rights over you.' He paused. 'And remember she is not a Consort Queen only she is a queen in her own right, the High Queen over all kings and queens of Narnia.'

'Rise Isabela Amylyn, High Queen of Narnia.'

A thunderous applause shook the walls of Cair Paravel and the roar of the Narnians drowned all else as they cried.

'Long Live Queen Isabela!'

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Queen Susan, famed not only for her lunar beauty and graciousness but also for her charming events, had outdone herself this time. This was proven by the awe struck faces of the guests as they caught sight of the elaborately decorated gardens, whispering to each other. No doubt some would try to copy it in near future but then again it was nearly impossible to copy Susan's bright mind accompanied by Lucy's intelligence.

Hand painted lanterns hung in rows from the high and occasionally low branches of the trees shading the gardens. Each was painted with a scene from the history of Narnia…. Aslan, the Wood between the Worlds, the creation of Narnia, the talking beasts, Queen Swanwhite and her beautiful reflection in the Great River, King Frank crowned, Queen Helen on a hunt…..…. Jadis on her polar bear carriage, Lucy first entering Narnia, Lucy meeting Mr. Tumnus around the large lamp post, Edmund entering Narnia, Peter and Susan entering Narnia, The Pevensies meeting the beavers….. and all their adventures until their coronation. All of them in proper order.

The lights shone over the gardens as stars over the world. Crepe paper in exquisite curls and curves dangled alongside them. Stones carved with animal faces lead around to the very centre which one reached after crossing through the small mote and the nearby fountains. The pavilion was huge and lined with silvery chairs which the guests slowly occupied. On one side the tables were placed lined with delicious eatables which made one's mouth water simply by looking at them.

The mermaids had swum up to the mote through the large river connecting the sea and the it and they snag beautifully in their magical, light voices which struck one's heart. They were followed by Mr. Tumnus who played a magnificent tune on his instrument on which the other fauns danced gracefully. It was all as if woven by pure magic. The naiads for once at peace with the dryads had also joined the wedding and they too sung old songs about Narnia's rich glories their luscious hair weaving. Ghost like creatures practically melted from the trees and joined the guests chattering about and clapping their hands excitedly. Wood nymphs. The dwarves and fauns joined hands along with other woodland creatures and danced around the pavilion delighting the audience with their coordination and skill. Finally the centaurs played a tune of the time when Aslan had made Narnia while the talking animals acted out their parts. Isabela stared at the alluring show. It was more than beautiful, no words could describe it.

Beside her, Peter murmured to his pleased elder sister who beamed at the praise and lovingly touched his shoulder.

'Su, you have bested yourself this time.'

'Only for you, Peter.' She told him. 'I would do it over a million times.'

Peter had smiled a stunning smile, running a hand through his windswept hair. Mr. Tumnus came up to them with Lucy on his arm, waving his handkerchief vacantly.

He stopped beside Isabela and Peter.

'My heartiest congratulations, to you, to both of you1' he cried happily. 'The Narnians have waited long for this day. High King Peter finally married! I wish you a happy, loving life filled with only and only joy!'

Peter nodded politely.

'Thank you, Mr. Tumnus. For your well-wishing.'

'Yes.' Isabela said, glancing at the aged faun. 'Thank you very much.'

'My pleasure, milady.'

Lucy clasped Isabela's hands in her own, bouncing with excitement and leaning up to kiss her cheeks.

'Now we're truly sisters!' she said, her cheeks flushed with happiness. Isabela had tried to smile and she did but it was blank and strained.

After them came a stream of people, monarchs, rulers, princes and princesses, king and queens. King Lune was amongst the first, beaming and bouncing and laughing heartily.

'Finally, and so, Peter, you have married at last and married well if I say!' he winked good naturedly. 'Cor was true to his description about your beauty, Lady Isabela.'

Peter laughed, shaking King Lune's fat hand and then his tall, heavily muscled son, Prince Corin's.

'Lady Isabela if the High King had not married you, I daresay I would be amongst the first of your suitors! King Peter would you mind if I complimented your ravishing wife?'

'Not at all, Corin.' Peter said, shaking his head. 'I would be much pleased.'

'Well I really must go on now. There is this pretty dryad who is very much interested in listening to my amusing tales.' Prince Corin said pompously.

'Thank you, King Lune.' Peter said, inclining his head. 'And thank you Prince Corin.'

Prince Corin winked friendlily and bounced off like an over excited puppy. King Lune followed him and then came up Prince Rabadash and his royal father. Isabela would have very much liked to punch him.

Again.

It sickened her the way they looked at her and she felt sure that Peter noticed too for his face tightened. Susan was the only one composed enough to thank them with Peter occasionally saying a few charming words only for Susan's sake.

'Lady Isabela, you are as beautiful as the exotic fish of the Great River.'

Isabela raised an eyebrow glancing at Peter who bit his lip to keep from laughing mouthing was that supposed to be funny?

'Thank you, Your Highness.'

'You are most welcome.'

They nodded and flounced off, tossing their egoistic heads. Governors from the Lone Islands came forward with their families to pay them their goodwill. Almost all were old and white haired with their wives on their arms.

A small boy came forwards clad in a brilliant red tunic, silk black leggings and boots with a jewelled dagger at his side. He was small with pale blond hair but his eyes were wise and somehow ancient. Isabela blinked at him.

'Adam?' she asked astounded. 'You've grown!'

Adam smiled shyly, his pale, thin cheeks blushing red. He ducked his fair head.

'I cam to wish you both a content, prosperous life. From my mother and I. And-' he hesitated. 'I came to say farewell too.'

'You're going back?' Isabela asked.

Adam shook his head.

'I am going to the training Academy for Narnian knights. High King Peter arranged for that. Thank you, my lord.'

Adam bowed low. Peter nodded gravely.

'It is my duty to make sure all get what they deserve and I could not let such promising talent go to waste, Adam. I hope you make me proud.'

'I will!' He promised cheerfully. 'I will!'

'I know you will.' Isabela told him. 'I have faith in you. And I am sure your mother does too.'

'You know, my lady?' Adam asked timidly. 'I always believed you were a fairy sent down from the heavens only for us.'

'Why thank you, Adam.' Isabela teased lightly and Adam flushed again. 'Take care'

'And may Aslan be with you.' Peter told him quietly, his sea blue eyes intent.

'And you.' Adam bowed clumsily and waved before flying off with a frowning Orieus.

'You arranged for that?' Isabela murmured silently to Peter. He glanced at her for the barest second and then nodded his face blank.

'I wanted too. He deserves that. And I am sure he will grow into an intelligent and fearless knight. I am sure.'

'That was very kind of you.' She noted.

Peter did not reply but turned around to greet another guest, his tone warm. She sighed.

Some things don't change, do they?

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Vladimar lifted his pale, wispy head from amongst the myrtle bushes. His red, blood red eyes looked alertly around the mountainous hill, resting on the small village lying nearby.

Small oil lamps hung outside the nearly thirty-five houses, all resting in a complete circle. They were lying on the very boundary of both Narnia and Archenland.

He heard a small prick, the breaking of a twig. It practically echoed around the village.

Hissing in frustration he clenched his talon like fingers together to keep from blasting every single man he had behind him. Pathetic fools….

Above him towered on a great height the giants of the north… They were breathing very lightly but still released a misty fog which sounded thunderous.

Thankfully humans were far too stupid to understand where these noises came from. They would most probably think a storm was coming. A smooth rainfall which would be beneficial to their crops. Too bad…..

A creepy smile forced its way on his scarlet lips which stood out alarmingly against his porcelain pale skin.

He raised his long fingers and signalled to his men who crept stealthily behind him. One of them, a bearded old fellow, raised a huge log which was on fire. The smoke crept upwards.

A signal: Prepare yourselves. We attack now.

The same smoke came back, blown down by the giants' quick, heavy breathing.

Another signal: We are ready.

Vladimar smiled again, showing his fangs prominent against his lips. He stared at the sleeping village wrapped in slumber thinking of all the comforts lying there.

Food, animals, clothing, woman, children, wine…..

He raised himself gracefully, snapping his fingers. His men charged forwards, dogged by the roaring giants.

Screams echoed around his ears as he stared pleasantly at the scene.

The slumbering village would sleep no more…

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Isabela tossed around the huge bed, her jet black hair strewn across the stuffed pillows. A light blanket covered her slim figure wrapped in a light, simple night gown.

She could not sleep.

In fact she thought she would never sleep again.

Not anymore.

Light snoring drifted up to her and she glanced up towards the marble floor. The sleeping form lying there was huge, tall and angular with well built muscles and a long neck.

Moonlight fell on his features showing his light blond hair, dead straight and softer than cream. Her fingers ached to run themselves through the locks. What!

Heat flooded Isabela's cheeks. What was she thinking? She must be going mad. She tossed feverishly to the side of the empty, cold seven poster bed.

Obviously the magnificent gentleman, the chivalrous Sir Peter Wolfsbane had refused to sleep on the bed while she slept on the floor. His eyes had flashed with anger and he had flatly refused.

'I may be unhappy but that does not mean I will let a lady sleep on the floor whatever the cost.'

She had argued hotly but the obstinate High King had ignored her argument, settling himself on the floor on a mattress which he assured her was more comfortable than any bed.

She could have screamed.

He had already gone to sleep as soon as his head fell on the pillow but Isabela had found it harder to fall asleep.

Sighing, she sat up, yanking her fingers through her long ringlets before throwing back the covers and stepping to the balcony which overlooked the sea.

It was huge and Isabela leaned against the railing, breathing deeply in the sea breeze. The sea too it seemed had gone to sleep, murmuring soothingly into the air and moving gently as if lolling itself into a deep slumber.

Isabela stared off in a distance at the clear midnight blue sky dotted with thousands of stars.

What will I do now? She thought to herself. What am I supposed to do now? Where will I go? Oh Aslan, help me…..please

She felt light tears prick her eyes.

I will not cry. She promised. Not now. Never.

Unwillingly she felt the tears weave aimlessly and traitorously over her cheeks. Of all the wretched things…. Why must I cry?

She buried her face in her arms, trying to wipe away the tears. She did not care. Not anymore. She did not realize how long she had stayed there, in the same position.

She did not care.

She was too miserable to care.

It felt years after she felt s hand on her shoulder and Peter's anxious but still gentle voice in her ear.

'Isabela, are you alright?' He asked, running a hand hard through his fair hair.

She did not answer.

'Isabela just come in. Please. You will get ill.' He pleaded her. She remembered him saying that before, on the cold night. She shivered.

He felt that and his face paled.

'Are you alright? Lia for Aslan's sake answer me!' he ordered her, pulling her away from her cosy nest.

Her body protested weakly. It ached terribly and she cringed but was still defensive.

'I'm alright, Peter.' She told him but he was not convinced.

'Are you planning to kill yourself?' He very nearly shouted, shaking her. She pushed herself away, standing up.

'I told you, I am alright!' she snapped. Peter scowled losing his temper.

'May I ask you why you are shivering then?'

'No. You may not. Mind your own business!'

'My own bus-' He stopped, his voice turned cold. 'You're right. It is not my business. I told you that before.'

'Thank you for remembering.' She said mockingly. Peter glared at her angrily his tone icy.

'You are very welcome, my queen. And I bid you a good night.'

He turned away leaving her alone on the balcony.

Dear Aslan, why don't I ever walk away? Why is it always him?

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Hope you all like it. I tried to include as much as I possibly could. Once again, I hope you love it. Review please! Please!

A. L. Potter