Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: A sorcerer challenged by Aslan. Love and friendship alike are tested by his presence. And the Gentle Queen faces her own challenge when the sorcerer's true colors are unveiled.

A/N: If you have not read the first eight stories in the A Light in the Darkness main story arc (Awakened, Shadowed, Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, Reflected, and Veiled), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Resolve

The coast was finally clear. Peeking through her lashes, she watched the room just a little longer to confirm that no one was going to walk in until she'd escaped. Now. She flung the covers back, her feet hit the floor, and she rose from the bed. A smirk curved her lips as she took two steps and then-

"Alambiel!"

She spun to face the door then blanched as her stomach violently protested the sudden movement. Ignoring the Kentauri, she half-lunged, half-staggered into the bathroom and promptly lost her breakfast. "I was doing so well," she gasped.

Large hands gently encircled her hips, holding her steady, and the Kentauri's clear disapproval vanished beneath a much softer tone. "I will send for Alithia."

"No." Straightening, she accepted the water he handed her. After swishing it around, she spat it into the basin and then rubbed her forehead. The dull ache was back. "No, Oreius, I'm fine. I don't need Alithia hovering. I need to get back to work on this puzzle. I'm so close I can almost taste it."

Her husband snorted. "You need to rest." Before she could protest, he scooped her into his arms and carried her back to their bed. He only moved away once to pour a fresh cup of spearmint tea then brought it to her. And then he hovered.

Alambiel sighed but decided to drink the tea without protest, hoping it would at least settle her stomach. Oreius kept staring at her with the same unfathomable expression she had woken up to that morn . . . What had Alithia told him? "I have a theory about Merry."

"Yes."

Not the most inviting of answers and he was still staring at her. But, she decided to make the best of it. Maybe if she got him to focus on the investigation into Merry's life, she'd be able to persuade him that the bed rest mandate was unnecessary. "Do you want to hear my theory?"

"Would you tell me if you were with child?"

Alambiel leaned back against the pillows, tightening her grip on the tea. "I . . ." She cleared her throat then shook her head. "Nope. I would just wait and see how long it takes for you to notice since you'll be busy with paperwork and meetings and patrols. Don't worry, Kentauri, I'm sure you'd notice at least when the baby was born."

Oreius frowned at her, not even a hint of amusement easing the sternness of his expression. "Alithia thinks you are."

"Alithia thinks I'm what?"

He stepped closer to the bed, looming over her with an inexplicable emotion in his eyes. "Alithia believes you are with child. Are you?"

"Oreius . . ."

"Could you be with child, Alambiel?"

The delicate pattern painted on the teacup was absolutely fascinating. She didn't look away from it as she murmured, "I could be but it's too soon to know for sure. No matter what Alithia thinks, it's too soon. It will be another week or two before I know with a reasonable certainty." She paused, licking her lips as she considered one reason Oreius had been so worried about whether she was pregnant, then hesitantly asked, "Do you want to have a baby now, Oreius?"

He didn't answer. Alambiel's heart clenched painfully as the silence dragged on. Alithia was right that the signs could be pointing to a baby. She set the teacup on the nightstand and then lowered her left hand to rest against her currently flat stomach. What if she was and he didn't want a baby now?

She looked up at him. The Kentauri's dark eyes met hers and then they softened, finally letting her glimpse her husband behind the General mask he'd been wearing. He gave her the faintest of smiles before he bent to pull the coverlet up. "I would be very pleased if we are to have a little foal of our own, Wife. Now, please rest and stay in bed. Take care of yourself."

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He wasn't sure what had bothered him. All he knew was that when he rolled over, she wasn't there. He grumbled into his pillow and stretched his arm out, fingers searching for her soft warmth. Nothing. Peter raised his head, blinking away sleep as he surveyed the bedroom. There wasn't even an impression on Thalia's pillow and no heat lingered on the mattress to testify to her presence in their bed. She must have slipped away as soon as he fell asleep.

Sitting up, Peter rubbed his hands through his hair then yawned. "T-Thalia?"

There was no response. But his senses weren't so sleep-befuddled that he didn't pick up on the tiniest sound. Peter paused, uncertain at first of what he was hearing, but then he heard the distinct sound of a muffled sob. Aww, no.

Tossing the covers back, Peter scrambled up and then padded on silent feet to the open balcony doors. He shivered as the cold autumn night caressed his skin. Then he saw her. Thalia was kneeling on the floor, her arms wrapped around her middle, and her shoulders were shaking from the force of the sobs she was trying so hard to repress.

Cold was forgotten as he rushed to her then dropped to his knees and took her into his arms. "Thalia. Oh Flower, what is it? What do I need to do to fix it? Thalia," he pressed kisses against her hair, her brow, her wet cheeks, all the while murmuring, "oh Flower, what's wrong? Tell me. Please, honey, tell me."

She responded by turning more fully against his chest and sobbing, her slender frame shaking like a tree in the midst of a storm. "Vedis. Vedis. Vedis."

Her sister . . . Peter hugged her closer, kissing her hair again. "What's wrong? I thought Vedis is staying with your father until spring. Did you receive a message?"

"No!" the word came out a sob as Thalia pulled back, shaking her head. "No. Vedis is safe. But . . . But what if she wasn't?"

"Thalia."

She sniffled and swiped at her eyes, trying in vain to stop the tears. "What if she wasn't, Peter? What if . . . what if Vedis had been stolen from Narnia and forced into a despicable Tarkaan's harem?" The moonlight lent her tears a silver gleam as they continued falling even as she looked up at him. "Oh Peter, I cannot close my eyes without seeing that poor sapling again. Her eyes were empty like . . . a tree that had been hollowed out by lightning. She is so close to being dead inside, I can tell, and it might be too late for her. But we mustn't leave her. There must be a way to save her. What if it were Vedis or Lucy? Would you not want to do everything to free them?"

Peter rubbed her back. "Of course, Thalia, of course I would. I promise Ed and I are already looking at our options. But Shirin is not of the North and that makes this more difficult." He bent his head and gently kissed her tears away. "Please don't cry, Flower."

How he hated it when she cried. Anger stirred, lighting his blood on fire, as he imagined Lucy or little Vedis in the situation Shirin was in. At first, he had believed Tarkaan Babak was simply jealous of his wives and afraid of the so-called demons of the North. But now . . . Now, he was certain that the chap's goal had been to conceal the abuse he rained down on the little girl who was truly too young to be married, much less so ill-used. He hated that Babak was cruel to Shirin. He hated that he couldn't just charge into the guest wing and take Shirin into protective custody with Rhindon to make the situation perfectly clear to the belligerent Tarkaan if he protested. He hated that diplomacy might mean he couldn't save that little girl. It was bad enough that he'd have to let Babak sail home to Calormen without seeing true justice done. If he had to stand by and watch that little girl go with him, continuing in a fate worse than death . . . Oh Aslan, that would be almost too much to bear. And Thalia would never forgive him.

He hugged her tighter, letting her sob against his chest until she finally seemed to run out of tears. Peter kissed the top of her head and then he stood, pulling Thalia up with him. She continued to cling to him, her face still pressed against his chest, but they slowly made their way back inside. Peter got her settled in the bed before he slipped away just long enough to close the balcony doors.

"P-Peter?"

His precious Flower's tremulous voice tore at him. He wanted to storm the guest wing and send Tarkaan Babak a message he would never forget. But he didn't dare leave Thalia, not when she was so upset. He clenched his hands into fists and took a deep breath, fighting to calm the anger. It wouldn't help Thalia. She was most important. She was the only one he could help right now.

"I'm here." He got between the covers and curled around his quivering wife. "I'm here," he repeated as he wrapped his arms around her. "It will be all right, Thalia. Vedis is not in danger. I'm pretty sure your father would heartily disapprove of any speculation that he can't keep her safe in your home grove. And Shirin . . . Somehow we'll find a way to help her. I promise."

Thalia sniffled and then turned over to face him. Her slender fingers were cool as they fluttered over his face, touching but never alighting long. "I do not think my heart could bear it if that villain cut down Shirin's tree and we did nothing to stop him."

He kissed her fingertips as they ghosted over his mouth. "We will try, Flower. I can't promise that we'll succeed, I wish I could, but the situation is so delicate I can't promise that we will succeed. But we will try. If there is any way at all that we can help Shirin, I promise we will take it. I promise, Thalia."

She sniffled again then pressed closer. "I do not think I can sleep."

Peter pressed a gentle kiss to her lips as he held her close. "Don't worry. We don't have to sleep. We can lie here and we can talk or simply be still or-"

"Kiss?"

Even in the shadowy recesses of their bedroom, he could see the blush that colored Thalia's cheeks on the heels of her request. Reaching up, he touched a silky strand of her nut-brown hair then he leaned in the scant distance and kissed her. His wife's hands slid up his chest until she looped her arms around his neck. Somehow, in the midst of the sadness and frustration and burning anger at the unfairness of Shirin's situation, their kiss reminded Peter of the good in the world. His wife needed comfort. This was something he could do, something he could give her even though he couldn't definitively promise Shirin's freedom. Peter kissed her again, this time determined to comfort her so she would not sleep thinking only of the horrors of the world but also of the good and the sweet. And there was nothing sweeter than the taste of his Flower's kisses.

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A glance at the water clock proved it was well past third hour and he had only just returned from a meeting. Oreius massaged the back of his neck with a low groan. One of the patrols had returned late but they had seen signs of a Werewolf pack lingering close to Cair Paravel. And yet he had barely been able to concentrate. His thoughts were consumed, not with the hole in his defenses or finding out the traitor who had allowed those holes to be made or even with the sorcerer who had helped make Alambiel a target, but solely with Alambiel . . . and their foal.

Worry still gripped him over her safety but now it was compounded. He slipped into their bedchamber and let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. Alambiel was soundly asleep but she had kicked all the blankets off. A hint of a smile won its way free as he took in the sight of his wife wearing one of his tunics again with her hair loose and spread across the pillows while her hands were tucked under her left cheek. She was softest when she slept, all her defenses lowered for the moment. He glanced at her legs then chuckled.

Reaching down, he carefully loosened the straps on the sheath so he could remove the knife that had been resting against her calf. He set the knife, sheath and all, on the bedside table before he looked down at her again. He was tempted to join her. But he had a few more orders to take care of before dawn. Still, he didn't leave immediately.

He reached down to touch his wife's stomach. It was flat as ever but he had seen the way she had placed her hand over it protectively when they spoke earlier. Perhaps she did suspect Alithia was right and was only waiting until she could say with absolute certainty that she was carrying their foal. A foal. So soon after they married . . .

Alambiel stirred suddenly but she did not wake. Instead, she muttered, "Hovering Centaurs. Everywhere. Curse Murphy and all his eel-infested, blighted boats."

Oreius studied her face for a moment, torn between amusement and concern. Alambiel didn't normally talk in her sleep. His gaze flicked again to her stomach but he resisted the urge to linger. He pulled the sheets up then pressed a kiss against her temple. Then he left the room as silently as he had entered.

His amusement had sobered by the time he reached his study. What if he didn't catch the one behind the attacks? What if the person who was spying on them learned Alambiel was expecting? What steps would he take to prevent their happiness with a foal? If the one behind the attacks was the same letter writer who had expressed such disgust at the news of their marriage, what would he do if he learned their marriage was proving fruitful?

He did not know and that troubled him deeply. Oreius picked up the topmost report and tensed as a folded sheet of parchment fell out. The message was short this time.

Healers gossip so easily when excited. But your precious star's cradle shall always be empty.

Oreius crumpled the note into a ball. This could not be allowed to continue. He would set a trap for the culprit and remove the threat to his wife, to his family. He would not allow this threat to continue with only a half-blind defense as a response. Nor would he share this note with Alambiel. She was too close to collapse and the foal, if there was a foal, could be endangered if she grew too ill from the stress of their present situation.

As dawn lightened the sky, Oreius remained at his desk. Working to protect his wife and, he hoped, their unborn foal. Despite his slight weariness and unyielding focus, Oreius still found time to smile at the thought of a little foal entering their lives. And as soon as Alambiel knew for certain, she would tell him. He knew she would.

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A/N: Please Read and Review! Someone is just a little bit excited about the possibility of a little foal running around. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.