Doctor Cornelius paused in the corridor as he heard the decadent footsteps of the approaching Zephyr; he turned to face the Lieutenant. He took the opportunity to examine her features. Unlike the marble featured High Queen, her eyes were a vivid blue, casting the sky into shame, while her lips were full, the lower ruling over the top, and her cheeks were decorated with a snowfall of freckles and rose blooms. Her form belied a millennia of life for she still had the lovely curves of virginal bloom. She was alive and vivid, full of that quickening air of Narnia.

" Lieutenant, have you need of my aid?"

The Lieutenant bowed. " Where's his royal Majesty's quarters? I'm looking for him."

Doctor Cornelius replied, " I was just going to see Caspian. I will take you to him."

Lyra stopped him. " I mean the High King."

Cornelius shook his head. " No, Peter does not—" he suddenly bowed. " Your Majesty."

Peter came up behind the two and acknowledged the obeisance of the half-dwarf. " I am here. Why do you need me?"

Lyra looked for her mistress and then flashed him a mischievous smile. " I suppose her Majesty is indisposed?"

" Sleeping, actually." Peter grinned at her.

Lyra sighed and clasped the Magnificent's hand in joy. " She does not often sleep. It is often a bitter reminder that she shall only wake up alone. Thank you easing that."

Peter gave her a smile. " I love her. I never want her to be alone."

Lyra laughed, " And how often our love can be mocked by the very thing that we don't want to happen. My mother and my father. He was not there when I was born and yet I could love him whom I had never met. My mother— found it hard to continue trusting in love because he had gone. Strange the differences between a woman and a child. But still, I would have liked to have known my father. For him to have been there when my wings sprouted, when I took my first flight, when I fought in my first battle—" She looked at him with her head askance and he realized that she was peering through him, thinking of all the times her father wasn't there and querying if she would love him more or less because of the lack.

" You needed me?"

She became a soldier again. " Doctor Cornelius, thank you. Attend to King Caspian." She waited until he left. " Your Majesty, King Edmund would like me to tell you the keeper of the lists have been chosen. Glenstorm and the Bulgy Bear."

Peter nodded, thinking over these choices. He wondered if he would have made the same, but decided that Edmund, when it came to such things as this, usually knew better. " And?"

Lyra grinned. " You are sharp. We and the Telmarines have chosen the area of the lists. It will be the entryway just ere the How. They're already pitching the tent and the lists. You, however, are not needed; you're coming with me."

Peter gazed at her quizzically before falling in behind her. " You give orders as though you were a queen."

" Perhaps just a queen's daughter," Lyra laughed at him, before leading him into a small room. The stone walls were warm and the figures of the ancient Narnians rejoiced in the presence of their king. " Come. Sit down. You have need of rest, if what King Edmund has told me is true, and I must attend to your hip. It must not cause trouble on the day of the duel.

" How did you know—" he gave a small laugh. " Ah, I see Edmund has carried tales."

Lyra gave him a bright smile. " He loves his king. I should have done the same. Let me attend to it."

Peter allowed her to prod over him and to nurse him to content her woman's heart. As he rested and felt her soothing touch, he began to wonder what kind of a man would leave a daughter such as Lyra. He could not imagine it for himself. But that triggered the memory of his own daughter that he had yet to meet, and he thought that he was little better than the other he condemned without knowing.

" Your father did not know what he gave up when he left you two." Peter told her, gazing into her blue eyes.

Lyra glanced at him, trembling a little. " It was not his choice. He was born away on Aslan's command. My mother will not believe it; I cannot doubt it."

Peter nodded and hissed as she bound the place where his sword had stabbed into him. " Careful! I must have the use of the limb."

" On the morrow, I will remove the wrapping. I am sure that rest will alleviate its pain." And with that, she pushed the King commandingly back onto the bed. She arranged the cushions and made it easy for him to take his ease.

" Sleep well, your Majesty."

Peter nodded, already feeling the drowsy arms of a downy slumber pulling him away from reality.

Lyra continued to gaze down at him as he began to sleep. Her breathing was unsteady and she felt the misery of loneliness that he had hinted at. " Sleep, father, for first the calm; then the storm."

Peter stirred, stretching his limbs against the confines of his bed. He became aware of the sensation of downy warmth all around him. He opened his eyes slowly and started to see that his upper body was cocooned by the feathery silk of a Zephyr's wing. Carefully rotating his head, he looked upon the face of his wife.

Elain had come to sleep beside him, her countenance at peace and the icy firmness melted. Her one wing rested upon the ground and the other wrapped him up in the strength of her love. Her head was rested upon his shoulder and she held his arm tightly, fearing to let go lest in sleep he disappear.

Peter thought about how he was going to wake her when the door opened with a sickening whine, and Lyra's light form entered the room. " Your Majesties. You are needed. The duel awaits."

Elain stirred and then awoke, her wings filling the room as they came alive. Her eyes fastened upon the sapphire blue of her husband's and a smile jigged across her lips. " So it was not a dream?"

" Your Majesties!" Lyra's voice was sharp with urgency. " You must awake. Miraz's army is drawn up before the How and we must engage soon. Now, arise!"

Peter pulled himself from the bed, still slightly bleary and immediately missing the warmth of his wife.

Lyra hauled her Majesty away from the room and motioned for Peter to follow. As he walked through the torch-lit hauls, he became aware that his leg no longer pained him and that the scent of urgency and need lingered in the air.

He followed Lyra to the Stone Table's Hall and was greeted by Caspian and Edmund. Both were adorned with battle armor, Caspian's red lion flashing in the flickering swords of the fire, and Edmund's black hair turned golden brown because of their gilt brushes.

" Peter, I'm sorry, but she decided that it was time to get you up," Edmund greeted him, holding his brother's hand.

Lyra flashed the young king a stern look. " Now is not the time for rest. Only a fool seeks comfort at such a time for this. Dylcan, prepare the Zephyrs for flight. Have the guards fly in. We take to the air when the King is revealed to the Telmarines." She gathered her warriors about her, pulling some closer while the others stood apart to see what was required of them. " Sweep up into the air, spiral down, fly low over the Telmarine army, and then patrol the air. Is that understood?"

Dylcan, her lieutenant, motioned to the High Queen who stood still and unmoving as she watched the drama. Peter had followed Caspian to get into his armor and Edmund watched curiously as the Lieutenant handled her soldiers. " What of Her Majesty? Does she have any commands for us?"

Lyra shook her head. " None, I am General of the Army today."

Dylcan exclaimed and the rest of them seemed startled. Lyra, however, was prepared to brook no uncertainties.

" Her royal Majesty, Elain Aslana, High Queen of the Zephyrs and High Queen of Narnia, known as the Aerial, is going to stand by her husband as a Queen of Narnia. Now!" She looked each of them in the face. " You will do as I command."

Edmund wandered over to his sister-in-law and saluted her gallantly. " You have raised a powerful warrior and leader there. She inspires one's loyalty, if not affection, in a short time. She is worthy of your tutelage."

Elain shrugged, her eyes focused upon the Lieutenant Zephyr, " She was raised in the memory of her father. It is he whom she most closely resembles. As all can see."

" That her father is not a Zephyr is not apparent."

" So is it if one would only look." Elain gave Edmund a knowing gaze and then went to join her husband.

Edmund turned to peer at Lyra. He scanned her appearance for the clues that Elain claimed were there. There he saw nothing particular to her and another. But it was the single turn of her head which brought her in line with Edmund's vision that cleared away all the murk. Eyes—sapphire blue, framed with golden eyelashes and gilt brows, a jeweler's triumph in the flesh. And immediately he saw what Elain had been hinting at. And he rejoiced at the thought of it.

Miraz, King of Telmarine Narnia, was not prepared for the sight of the High King. He came out, youthful even through the tools of death, his step even and terrible in its steadiness. His face was stern and older than his years, and the fearsome High Queen hovering in the air behind him only served to add honor and power to the spectacle.

Elain's silver hair flowed in the breeze created by her wings, and her eyes flashed devilishly at the King. They glowed brighter as they judged him, and her hand curved around the sword that she wore at her side.

And then, a triumph and innumerable flashes of light. Miraz and his soldiers drew back startled, as from the fearsome depths of the tomb, the Army of Zephyrs burst forth. The sternness of their golden wingtips caught the rays of the sun and threw to the ground their gauntlet of endless spears of light. Their swords flashed as they raised them in a salute to the High King, and they swung up into hemispheres only to dive down and bully the soldiers into submission by the power of their mighty wings.

Glenstorm bowed to his king as he came by his side and then withdrew his sword and impaled the ground with it. Peter drew his own mighty Rhindon and extended it in a mock salute of Miraz, before turning to his people and bowing in gratitude and honor.

Miraz exchanged a look with his minister, Glozelle, and then inquired in a voice cold as ice. " He appears to handle himself well."

Glozelle shrugged. " If it is as the murderous creatures say, he is one of their former Kings reborn in this moment to fight against their oppressors. I'm sure his Majesty's age and weight will accommodate him in this fight."

Miraz stiffened as he realized his men were still maneuvering him. And he couldn't do anything about it.

" What's the matter, your Majesty?"

" Nothing. Let's begin."

Lord Sopespian nodded to his King and then advanced, meeting Glenstorm in the middle. " Let's get this over with. His Majesty is eager to finish the barbarian King."

Glenstorm fixed him with a murderous stare and then turned to his King, who nodded his head in agreement. " Let the duel commence."

Sopespian and Glenstorm retreated to their respective corner, and then their Majesties entered the lists. The disparity between the two monarchs could not have been rendered more plainly. Peter was tall and lithe with the innocence and goodness of youth still attached to his soul; Miraz was crowned with overindulgence, testifying of life spent in evil retreats of both the body and mind.

Caspian winced at the first clash of swords and shrunk from watching the duel in its entirety. Edmund's countenance was a solid block of ice, and he felt his blood flow and ebb as the blows rained upon his brother. Elain was fixed between them, and she was the only one who had maintained a proper color: of course, the fact that she always appeared icy and firm didn't hurt either.

Suddenly, Caspian heard a collective gasp and faced the duel again. " What happened?"

" Miraz pushed Peter back and drove him off his feet. He brought his shield down hard upon his wrist. He's not using his shield correctly now." Edmund told him between bloody lips. He'd punctured the lip when he had bit down hard after his brother's mishap.

Peter's shield arm hung limply, fighting against the weight, and his right side moved as though he was in pain. But the Magnificent King didn't let up, and he began engaging the heavier Telmarine in a waltz of swords and shields, a dance where their eyes flashed in a deadly partnership.

Miraz had begun getting angry and he stumbled upon the steps of the jig, his sword lashing out. Peter avoided the sloppy blow, swung around his opponent, and then raised his sword in a fierce slash. Miraz lurched to the ground and he felt his vision go black.

Edmund called out as Caspian averted his eyes, " Come on, Peter, now's not the time for chivalry."

Peter looked up at his brother and understood that his strategy was very sound. But it went against everything that Aslan had ever told him. His eyes moved towards the woman that he loved and saw the ice in her soul and the fire in her eyes.

Elain spoke quietly, " End it, King. You've won."

And Peter knew then that he couldn't do it. He would not kill the Usurper.. The Telmarine army let out a collective gasp and Sopespian exchanged a look of disconcert with his co-conspirator.

Then a shriek sounded and a golden Zephyr fell down to the ground, just beside Miraz.

Elain looked up at Peter and their eyes connected in one of horror. The Telmarines had betrayed them again. They had indeed anticipated that Peter would disarm their king and that the Narnians would be disarmed by his defeat.

Glenstorm bent his legs over his King and watched in horror as the Magnificent rolled the Zephyr over. Edmund and Elain rushed over, while Caspian pulled himself up onto Destrier.

Elain gasped in anger as the features of Dylcan appeared and she looked at Miraz. He too appeared shocked: half because he was still living, half on account of the blood of the Zephyr that had fallen from the ground.

" You!" Elain shouted. Miraz withdrew from the wroth Queen and then gasped in relief when she passed him by to look at the trembling Lord Sopespian. "Youdid this. We thought that you should betray your King. But I see that I have learned nothing. I should have known that you would betray us again.And you will pay for this!"

Elain's wings beat the air and Sopespian gasped in absolute terror. Elain screeched like the death howl of the owl. " Aloft! Out of range to me!" The Zephyrs obeyed their Queen, and in one gilt formation, they swung upwards, dodging the sniper arrows that fell fruitless.

Elain growled in triumph and then lunged at Sopespian. Her strength was terrible; he felt his body curve in a sinuous loop as she arose in a fell swoop.

Peter called after her, " Elain, no!"

Caspian hauled his uncle up upon his gelding and sustained him while he gaped at the fearsome High Queen of the Zephyrs. The sky above had clouded and the ground rumbled with subterraneous screechings. Edmund looked behind the Narnians and gasped. The trees were wading through the loam river of earth. He gulped and focused upon his brother.

" Peter?"

" Peter?!"

" What?!" Peter growled, focusing on the golden-hued Aerial.

" The Dryads and the Naiads have awakened." Edmund swiveled so that he could look upon the creatures that were plowing through the earth. " The blessing of Aslan has returned to the land."

Peter nodded and gazed at the Telmarine King before him. " Caspian, imprison your uncle. We want him to remain alive."

" Your majesty." Caspian seized his uncle firmly while ignoring his mewling protests and dragged him towards the How, assisted by Glenstorm.

Peter clasped his brother's arm, ignoring the twinge of his wrist, and then lifted Rhindon in a salute of the heavens. Edmund withdrew his own sword and the long dagger that he wore as an aid. " Then we shall fight for the land and for its King. For Narnia and for Aslan!"

High King Peter the Magnificent leapt forward and caught Lord Glozelle unawares. He had been transfixed by the mythical trees that were rumbling towards him and had not been paying attention to the very real danger of a mighty warrior near him. A neat right feint and a left backstroke removed his head from his shoulders, and the treacherous dog was left with only his bones.

But high above this fray, far removed from the clashing and joining of two mighty and opposite armies, Elain, High Queen of the Zephyrs, soared. Her wings beat up a golden whirlwind and the might of her anger struck away all of her own soldiers.

Lyra alone remained, trying to fly through the dangerous storm, daring to attempt to come before the fierce and wroth Queen. Beside her, the other Zephyrs flew dejectedly, not knowing whether to engage or to stay aloft from the war.

Elain held the treacherous lord by his neck, supporting him enough so that he was not suffocating, but at the same time torturing him skillfully by the very effect of gravity. " It was your kind who betrayed my home!" She accused, tossing her words at him like daggers. " It was your kind who destroyed my bridal chamber and condemned my people to live as beggars and vagrants in their own lands. It was your kind that almost killed my daughter by your devilry!" She tightened her grip and stopped beating her wings. This caused him to drop and turn blue simultaneously.

He clawed at her hand, his nails tearing the white flesh and releasing the holy blood. The sight of it enraged her and she flew in a rapidly increasing circle. He could breath a little better, but found his head spinning and the equilibrium of his body fading.

" To think that I condemned Caspian and hated him. That I spoke so cruelly to him out of the wrath of my soul, when it is you and yours I should exterminate." She latched eyes with him, fire tearing into blackness of an empty soul. " And so, for your crimes and for the crimes of your people, I avenge myself and them by this deed."

Sopespian's eyes grew wide and he could no longer breath though her grip was fearfully loose. He was aware that death awaited him.

" Don't."

Elain hesitated. She was seconds away from catapulting up into thin atmospheres. If she went up high enough, his brain would start to bleed. He could then fall to his death. The torture would be excruciating.

" Don't." The voice that entreated her was strong and tenuous, holding onto the reality of the moment. It was youthful and had imbibed of the promises of Aslan. His roar was reflected in it, yet it was a maiden's: quick and melodic as the running of the River Rush and the nimbleness of the prancing dancers at Dancing Lawn.

Elain quivered, her body pushing against the spell of the word, of the voice. She heard the magic of her father in it. She responded to the love that was manifest in it. But still, she longed for revenge and for the rush that would come when she tortured the man. She knew that she could make his dying moments an agony; she rejoiced in the thought of it.

" It's not worth it. Even if you torture him. Even if you make him feel unimaginable agony, your pain will continue. Your grief, your sorrow, and your guilt will carry on." Golden wings blinked in her peripheral vision and she knew who had come by her side.

" He has to pay. He and others like him took my home, my life, my brother away from me. Narnia was decimated because of the Telmarines." Elain turned to the woman. " Please."

Her golden hair shivered as she twisted it in refusal. " Elain. You still had a daughter who loved you. You could meet your brother in realms outside of Narnia. And you had the promise of Aslan that your life and your purpose was not over. He's not worth losing Aslan's respect. Release him."

Elain felt tears flow, and her voice quivered. " It's like a storm inside. The blackness promises warmth and freedom from this anger I've borne for so long. What do you promise?"

" I am the storm. I am the epitome of the past that haunts you. But still the blackness does not overwhelm. You've sworn it would not conquer us. You are our High Queen. Where you fly, we fly. If you're in a storm, so are we. It's your responsibility to free us. Do you want our destruction on your head?" She touched Elain's eyes, the fire burning the smooth skin. Her hand then crept down her neck and onto her shoulder. Her other hand came forward and mirrored the other. " I am here. And I do love you."

Elain gasped and released Sopespian, her wings stilling so that she just floated in air. Sopespian fell a little ways and was caught by the Zephyrs. Immediately, he was suspended from a hammock of chains as they flew towards the How.

Elain sobbed against the fleecy hair of her daughter. " O, Lyra, I'm so tired."

Lyra nodded and then gazed down at the earth. " So are the Narnians. So is King Peter. But it's time. We have to end the storm." Elain tightened her grip, on her daughter and on reality. " Mother, the trees are alive again. Bacchus' blessing has returned."

Elain's color deepened and she inhaled ruefully. " That means it's time."

" More than time. We've been up for an hour."

" Strange how long and short time seems."

Lyra laughed, " It's going quicker now. Aslan, his Kings, his Queens, and his Children have returned." Her eyes rimmed with blood around the blue and her expression was one of fierceness and certain determination. " Let's make him proud and end this!"

"Zephyrs! For Narnia and for Aslan!"

Merry Christmas! It's only fifteen days to Christmas; can you believe it? I'm glad that all of you have showed up for the fourth chapter of my bookThe Magnificent, a Father.Ihope that you have been enjoying it and that I'm going quickly enough for you. I'm probably not. Don't worry, it's not going quick enough for me.

So this is just a really nice little chapter with some good bonding time and some really intense scenes as well. I thought that it was a good balance.

Enjoy the story, please comment, vote, review, whatever. Just tell me if you like it!

Living for Christ,

Jetta Lee