XXXIX

GRACE

Breakaway – Kelly Clarkson

As Grace descended the courtyard steps, she couldn't stop shivering.

She didn't understand how; Lilis had to have helped her into at least three layers of clothing and a cloak that morning.

The deep brown material fluttered behind her with the air of her movement. Perhaps it was the movement that was causing any warm air to escape? In response, Grace gripped the trim of the cloak together with her frozen fingers.

The shadowed frigid air of the courtyard did little to help the temperature and since the morning sun still sat behind the bleached golden stones of Cair Paravel, there was no help to be obtained there either. Grace doubted there could be any reliance of its warmth until they were out of the Cair's shadow completely.

The stone steps boasted many Narnians of all shapes and sizes. Some friends bidding Westerners farewell as they joined the visit to their home. For Grace it was a heartwarming view, if not a little overshadowed by the similar yet more permanent goodbye she had shared with Margrove the afternoon before.

The haphazard strap attached to her bag slipped from her shoulder as she reached the gravel of level ground. Upon her steps disturbing it, Grace searched for sight for Lilis, Lucy or King Edmund. Disappointingly, none were in sight.

Well.. at least she was not late for a change.

Her eyes at last landed on the familiar sight of Maiden, who had been saddled and groomed and currently had her face stuffed in a bucketful of something held by a Stable Hand. Her sandy coat looked odd in the dim purplish light of still morning, yet somehow it was the brightest thing that could be seen in the courtyard.

Grace nodded to the Stable Hand gratefully, knowing that the beast was meant for her. Well… she hoped it was. There wasn't a chance that King Edmund would make her walk to the West… would he?

When she caught sight of the familiar swishing black tail of Phillip, Grace sighed in relief. If he was riding, then there was little chance he'd submit Grace to walking.

Slowly, Grace began to lift the sack to the Mare's back. The Stable Hand called out to her, giving soft instruction on how to attach it to Maiden's saddle. Grace followed it easily, allowing the material to split evenly and prevent an unbalanced journey.

When Grace turned to thank the Stable Hand, she found him bent low in respect to something behind her. She whirled, the motion causing the brown fold of her hood to smack against her cheek; but instead of the perceptive dark eyes of King Edmund, she was met with the clear blues of someone else.

There – somehow still shining and magnificent despite the lack of sunlight – stood the High King himself, watching her with that same effervescent glint in his eye that he always seemed to hold.

"I do hope you were planning to say good bye before your departure," King Peter arched a brow, "I'd imagine Lucy would be heartbroken to be bereft of the opportunity."

Grace lowered her eyes as her body followed into an automatic curtsey, "Of course."

"Rise," The High King ordered softly, only continuing once she had, "I was rather pleased to hear you would be joining my Royal Brother on this trip. Perhaps you might be of some use to Us by ensuring he makes it to the Western Woods safely."

"I will endeavour to assist," Grace replied wryly, "But I don't know how much help I'd be."

King Peter leaned towards her, "Then perhaps just make sure he actually makes it there within the week. Edmund is so often late coming back from these trips and our Royal Sister is quite concerned that he won't return in time for the Christmas Ball."

Grace nodded, "That, I think I can help with."

The answering smile was brilliant, "Good. In saying that, I think you are to be congratulated. You've handled the situation with my Royal Brother very well. Despite his every dispute on the matter, might I add."

Grace returned his happy expression, "Well, I wish I could take all the credit… but I think I had help in high places."

The glint brightened at her recognition, "You're welcome. For my and both of my Royal Sisters parts in the matter."

There was a shared look of understanding between the two. Stony, grounded blue against that of the wide-open sky. Grace wouldn't want to get too ahead of herself – considering this was the member of the Tetrarchy of whom she had the least acquaintance to – but there was an odd sort of comradery that had built between them. She wouldn't necessarily call it friendship but the High King's efforts in shepherding her towards the position she was in today was certainly not nothing.

The High King offered a hand in the air between them, "Farewell, then."

Grace took it and the squeeze offered from his calloused grip with a sad smile, "Thank you for allowing me to stay here."

"You are welcome anytime," King Peter grinned, "If you ever find yourself in Narnia again, please do not hesitate to come back. I'm sure Lucy would be overjoyed."

Grace's smile faltered at the idea, the weight of the decision she would face at the Wardrobe still lying heavily on her shoulders.

If the High King noticed, he did not comment on it. He simply lowered his head in a nod of respect before stalking off. Grace followed his form as he marched determinedly in the direction of Phillip and his rider who was now saddling various items upon his back.

"I told you this would be you soon enough," A bright and cheery voice entered from behind her.

Grace did not need to whip around this time, she did not start at the smooth and comforting voice of her friend.

Lucy looked as she always did, dressed in bright and cheerful colours despite the hour of the morning. At her side, Queen Susan watched on with a sleepy sincerity.

Grace curtseyed again, if only for Queen Susan's benefit, but it was not to last for the bone crushing hug the Younger Queen tugged her into.

"I'm so sorry to see you go," Lucy whispered mournfully, "But I know this is what you have wished for."

A lip quivered on Grace's face as she gripped her friend with equal vehemence. She would miss Lucy more than anyone or anything. Her first friend in Narnia and by no doubt the truest.

When they parted, it was with wet cheeks and glisteningly red rimmed eyes and Grace almost laughed at her perfect mirror.

"If I could stay forever I would," She whispered in return. There was no buts ands or ifs, for she knew that any reason she had to return to Spare Oom was faltering under the weight of the life she had built in Narnia.

"We would have you," Queen Susan claimed from Lucy's left, "If you chose to stay here with Us. Please do not think we wish for your departure."

The open and earnest look in the Gentle Queen's eyes made Grace's heart swell as she swore, "I could never."

Queen Susan smiled sadly and in a motion much softer than her sisters, pulled Grace into her arms. Her warmth was comforting and unexpectant and for a moment Grace allowed herself to relax.

The moment was fleeting however, and when the Gentle Queen pulled away, Grace found her mind swirling with its regularly scheduled nonsense.

Queen Susan let them alone after that, sweeping off after the High King to see off their brother.

Lucy continued to watch Grace with a sad expression, her big blue eyes welling with unshed tears. The sight was heartbreaking.

It couldn't be helped when Grace pulled her friend into a bone breaking hug of her own. She wished that there was some way to convey the depth of gratitude she felt towards the Valiant Queen.

"Now now," Lucy sniffled as she drew back from the embrace, "We can't be shedding too many tears. For all we know, you might not even be leaving for good."

Grace dragged an already wet sleeve over her eyes, her head bobbing in a jittery nod, "You're right."

The two held fast, staring at each other with equally welling eyes.

"Is that bad?" Lucy whispered lowly, "That I want you to stay?"

Grace shook her head, "Absolutely not. We all have a right to our wants, the fact that you respect mine so well only shows that you are good."

The Valiant Queen smiled wobblingly, "I wouldn't say that I'm so good. I did consider crashing your trip with an emergency."

"Oh really?" Grace's brows rose in interest, "What were you planning?"

"I was thinking a small fire in the music room or Edmund's study. Something that might set either party back enough where you'd have to stay and clean up the mess," Lucy grinned devilishly.

The brief image of the fire Grace had smothered but two weeks ago made a raw entrance into her mind. Perhaps the Valiant Queen would not need help in burning down King Edmunds office.

Grace laughed, "That's terrible! Poor Margrove is already tearing his hair out from stress and don't even get me started on your brother!"

Lucy joined her, both laughs turning to mist in the morning air, "That is the only reason I didn't go through with it."

The moment passed and both women were faced with the reality under their thick soled feet. Grace settled immediately into mourning for her friend, but Lucy didn't quite meet her there.

Instead, the Valiant Queen's face thinned in thought and hope, "You know, I don't think this will be the last time we'll see each other."

Grace's brow furrowed, "You don't? How could you know?"

The determined blue of her friends eyes was unmistakeably exact, "I just do."

In the moment of perplexed confusion, Grace could only stare after her friend and her unwavering faith.

"It's not a vision," Lucy explained, "But I just know that somehow, someplace, we'll be together again."

Grace nodded, though only in following for what the Queen muttered was inconceivable… unless she could return to Narnia after she'd settled things on Earth…

That image was shut into a box as soon as it was opened as Grace refused to let her hope dangle on such an extreme outcome.

"Perhaps it will be in Spare Oom?" Grace suggested before adding hastily, "Not that I would ever wish for you to leave your people."

Lucy shrugged, a sign there was no offence, "Perhaps it will be. The will of Aslan is difficult to predict, but we must accept it with grace when it comes."

That otherworldly look that Margrove bore the day before was mirrored in the ocean waves of the Queen's eyes. There were so many emotions Grace tried to pair with it – awe, hope, faith, righteousness – but none seemed to fit exactly.

The light dimmed, but did not dissolve completely. Instead, it sidled behind a gaze of serious schooling.

"Now," The Valiant Queen began, "If you're going to be travelling anywhere there is one thing you absolutely must learn."

Grace blanked on what such a lesson could be, "Which is?"

Lucy's knowledgeable look gave way to the obvious, "Navigation."

She pointed to the sky, lowering it in the direction of where Grace knew the Eastern Ocean sat behind the Cair's walls, "This is East. It is the way the sun rises."

In a similar motion in the opposite direction Lucy described the West, the direction in which the sun sets.

"And here," She described as she followed a trail between the two points, "Is the line in which the sun travels. If you are heading towards that line, you are going North and away is South."

Grace nodded as she committed the lesson to memory, noting that the line Lucy drew was slightly off centre in the sky, a trait which she assumed was due to the Winter season.

The Valiant Queen took a hold of Grace's shoulders. The motion looking very close to one that might be taken when trying to knock some sense into someone.

She spoke very seriously, "If you get lost, follow the morning sun eastward. From all of the eastern points in Narnia you can see Cair Paravel. Come home to us."

Grace nodded again, wordless in the face of her friends seriousness. There was doubt in her thoughts however, for why on god's green earth would Grace get lost? Were they going to gallop all the way to the West?

Lucy shook her gently by the shoulders, "I'm going to need a vocal response Grace. If you get lost, promise me you'll return to the Cair."

"Alright, I promise," Grace returned quietly, still perturbed by the idea of being left behind by the group.

A sigh of relief left Lucy's lips as she pulled Grace into another hug, "Good. On that note, I expect to see you back in two weeks' time and if I don't, I look forward to the day we'll meet again."

It was oddly comforting, the Queen's certainty that they would see each other again. That she would be just as ecstatic to see her in this world or in the world she used to call home. It settled something within her. Both the spoon and the current slowing for a brief moment of peace.

When Lucy pulled away, she took Grace's hand. Using the linked appendage to pull them both towards the trio of monarchs chatting amiably by Phillips side.

The Just King stood with his head level to a point on the Talking Beasts back, buckling leather strap into place.

Grace blanched and before she could stop herself, uttered, "I thought it was looked down upon to saddle a Talking Beast."

"Don't fret Daughter of Eve," Phillip called back towards her, "It's more for my benefit than his. The human tends to chafe my back on longer rides."

Lucy grinned as she linked an arm through Grace's, "No doubt you've noticed these two hold a special bond. I wouldn't try to understand it, we barely do and we've watched it grow over these past thirteen years."

King Edmund slid back from underneath Phillip, taking a moment to rattle the leather strap to test its security, "I don't believe even we understand it, do we Phil?"

The Chestnut Talking Horse knickered a laugh in response.

When everything was situated, the Just King stepped back to admire his work.

Grace admired it too, it was the first time she'd seen him handle a saddle, though she felt she shouldn't have been so surprised that he'd wrangled it into place so easily.

When it was clear nothing out of place, King Edmund exhaled deeply and ran a hand through his hair, "Alright, is there anything I've forgotten?"

To Grace's right, Lucy made a subtle noise to obtain her brothers attention.

The King grinned, his arms open and ready for her when she launched into them.

Grace looked away from the show of affection – she felt it wasn't right to watch such an intimate moment between siblings.

It was a good thing she did, for if she hadn't, Grace might have missed the stark white coat of the beast galloping across the courtyard.

The stark white talking horse who was galloping towards them.

"By the Lion's Mane," Gasped Queen Susan as the horsed stuttered to an unsteady stop just short of Grace's face.

Someone tugged her back by an arm – Grace didn't have the time to look but the grip was insistent enough that she did not question it.

"Ho there, Filly!" The High King called in a boisterous tone, "What has you in such a rush this morning?"

"Begging your pardon, your Majesties," The Talking Horse replied as she bowed her head in respect. Her glittering silver hair falling swiftly across her muzzle and back again as she raised it just as quickly, "I was just notified of the planned trip West and wished to lay a petition to join it."

"But you hold no ties to the West," King Edmund spoke questioningly, his deep voice reverberating against the back of Grace's head, "Why should you wish to undertake such a venture?"

Then, Filly looked directly towards Grace. Her sparkling clear eyes alight with determination, "At first I did not think to come, sire. It was only upon hearing that my friend was to undertake such a journey, I decided to claim my right to shepherd her."

Phillip made a noise of outrage from his stance ten paces away, "What utter nonsense! Please pay her no heed, your Majesties for the filly does not know what she asks."

Filly stamped her foot stubbornly, "I do know what I ask and I demand my rights be agreed to in accordance with the laws of Narnia," Then, she muttered petulantly, "If Phillip gets a human then so do I."

"You do not get a human you silly foal," The chestnut Talking Beast reprimanded her, "The bond that I hold with the Just King is long lasting and singular. It is not something to be wielded in a day."

"If you'd been paying any attention at all then you might have seen that Grace and I's friendship has flowered over more than a day. Or do the days truly seem so long to you – you shrivelled old raisin – that two weeks can be counted as one."

The King released Grace's arm and she absentmindedly covered the spot where his grip burned through her dress.

"By virtue of paragraph F of subsection 9 of section 4 of the Talking Beasts Act 1003, it is a right that she holds," The Just King quoted with authority.

Grace swivelled her head just in time to see a look of decisive understanding pass between the two Kings.

Then High King Peter took off where King Edmund had left, "If that is your wish Filly-"

"Starlight," The pale coated Talking Horse corrected.

The High King spluttered, "Pardon?"

"Apologies your Majesty," Filly lowered her head again in respect, "I also invoke the right as a Talking Beast to choose my own name and henceforth wish to be known as Starlight."

"Preposterous!" Protested Phillip, "Filly is a fine name, there is no need to change it!"

"It is the name of a child!" Starlight returned obstinately.

Phillip snorted, "You are a child!"

"Enough," King Peter ordered, one hand holding the peace of the air, "Filly's – sorry, Starlight's wishes are to be respected in accordance with our laws."

To his right, Lucy nodded vehemently, "If your wish is to change your name then your choice will be upheld in the Court of Aslan."

"As to your other request," King Edmund edged, "The matter is not yours alone to decide."

In a moment that was almost embarrassing, all eyes turned to Grace. She blushed under the attention, the weight of the King's words heavy on her mind.

Starlight had made a declaration of her intent, but it was up to Grace whether she would grant it.

Slowly, Grace shuffled towards the Talking Horse. She met her face on, holding her hand hesitantly in the air between them.

Starlight met it with her muzzle as if on instinct.

"I didn't spend time with you in the hopes of something like this, you know?" Grace murmured lowly, "I wouldn't ask anything of you that would be considered demeaning."

Starlight sniffed, "I'm offended that you would believe I'd be so easily swayed."

When Grace did not seem satisfied by the response, the Talking Horse continued, "I do not offer out of obligation, nor is this a service. If this is to be your last ride in Narnia, I would claim it as my own."

A small smile grew on Grace's features, "Hoping to be included in the ballad Margrove will write about my unlikely adventure?"

Starlight grinned in a very horse like manner, "Absolutely."

Her tone eased some of Grace's nervousness; at least with a Talking Beast at her side there would be little chance of her getting lost and Grace would have a chance to say a proper goodbye.

Grace's hand lifted shakily from Starlight's pale muzzle as she stretched to look back at the Just King.

He was watching her evenly. There was no trace of any emotion – disapproval or otherwise – in his perfectly poised features. It didn't take much, just a few seconds of a shared glance for King Edmund to understand her meaning.

He gave one solemn nod, "Very well then."

At the clear agreeance, Starlight let out a neigh of victory, "Pictorian, take that stock and saddle from Maiden's back! I shall be ferrying Grace today."

She strutted off to the Stable Hand in question, her silver tail swishing with a level of glee that Grace was certain would piss Phillip off.

The presence of King Edmund joined her then, those few easy steps enough to shelter her in his shadow.

Grace shivered lightly as she watched Starlight be fitted and packed, "Is this alright? I know it's frowned upon to ride a Talking Beast."

There was a rustle of material, Grace assumed the King was shrugging, "If Starlight is so insistent upon it, there can be no crime,' He paused for a moment of thought before continuing, "Considering it is such a rare honour to ride such a beast, to decline the option may turn out to be more offensive than the alternative."

Grace didn't feel comforted by these words, though she was not sure where the source of discomfort came from to begin with. Starlight had said so herself that this was not an act of service. Maybe, the trouble was just that? What did she get out of this?

There was a beat of peaceful air as the two watched the Stable Hand fuss over Starlight. Grace noted the act of saddling the Talking Beast was much quicker than that of a dumb one. She supposed that communication was the defining factor, a Talking Horse would be able to understand instructions and act them out accordingly.

Once she was saddled and Grace's sack had been repositioned behind the leather, the Just King wasted no time.

With two steady hands – one upon her back and the other burning her arm – he began to usher her towards Starlight's side.

"Take it from me," King Edmund murmured softly, "Having a companion such as this is both a blessing and a curse. You will never ride alone again."

Grace caught the double meaning in his words, "And I will never ride alone again."

The King smiled at her in a way only the happily burdened could, "Precisely."

When they reached Starlight, he motioned for Grace to place her foot in the stirrup, "I both pity and understand your stance this matter," There was a heave as the King took a hold of her waist and hoisted her onto Starlight's back, "For I too have fallen prey to a stubborn Talking Horse."

"I heard that," Phillip called.

Grace laughed lightly – an effort on her part to not offend their chestnut coated friend.

The King released her as soon as he was sure Grace was settled on the saddle, only giving her a brief glance as he patted Starlight's neck and departed.

His straddle was far quicker and more graceful than Grace's could have ever been. She chalked it up to thirteen years of practice and chose to let it go. There was a far more important concern in her mind.

"I've only ridden Maiden," Grace uttered to Starlight, "I don't know how to ride a Talking Beast."

"You don't ride me," Starlight answered easily, "Just think of yourself as precious cargo and allow me to handle the rest."

The party began to move off, then, multitudes of Talking Beasts, Centaurs, Dryads and Fauns moving in clusters towards the gate.

As if in instinct, Starlight began to walk forwards, her stride only pausing briefly in front of the Kings and Queens.

The High King gave her an encouraging smile, the Gentle Queen blew her a kiss with tear filled eyes and Lucy…

Lucy lurched forwards and grabbed one of Grace's useless hands.

"Don't forget what I told you," The Valiant Queen ordered as she placed a brief kiss upon her friend's pale cold skin.

"I won't," Grace vowed, clinging to her grasp until she could not anymore.

Even then, Grace did not return her sights forward. Her eyes wondered the sand-coloured bricks of the Cair, the greyed gravel at the base of the stairs, the three monarchs who stood waving them off in rich fabrics of vibrant colours.

This might be the last view she got of Cair Paravel, of the friends she had made that would remain there. She never wanted to look away.

When the shadow finally passed and the glaring light of the sun hit her face, Grace cringed. At last she was forced to face forwards, the stiffness in her neck making itself painfully known.

Ahead of them was the small strip of forest she had crossed on that very first night of Narnia. It looked so different now, with the topmost leaves bathed in the golden sunlight of the morning.

Beyond that there was endless plains of green, sometimes broken with another strip or two of forest, though Grace knew that by the time she saw any sort of dense forest again, they would be there. The Western Wood.

As Starlight sidled next to King Edmund and Phillip, Grace straightened her back and attempted to soothe the buzzing nervousness at the journey ahead.

She simultaneously felt like a kid on Christmas Eve and a prisoner on Death Row.