Author's Note: To my dear readers, many apologies for my absence. Life, work and other tribulations have squashed my muses flat and they are just now daring to lift their heads for fear of further trouble. But I have worked diligently to bring you chapter eleven and with my editor's permission, am posting it for you now.

I cannot promise when chapter twelve will arrive, but I am thankful that there is still interest in my humble offering in this fandom. Bless you all and thanks for the kind reviews. You guys are the greatest.

"Alandra…!"

The princess sighed and rolled her eyes again. "Yes, Melissande?" she asked, trying to keep the exasperation from her voice.

"I think it's time to head back now," her sister answered from behind her, the two girls trekking their horses across the grassy field.

Alandra didn't answer right away; she just stared between Charger's large ears and ignored her whining sibling.

They'd been riding for a few hours; Melissande had so wanted Caspian to accompany her this afternoon, but both he and Tristan had been roped into council by the Telmarine lords along with Bornen and his advisors.

Thus, the Archduke had foisted off his sulking eldest daughter upon his youngest, giving them direction to amuse themselves for the nonce. Although Melissande had been heading into a tirade, she was a bit annoyed to have her audience summarily vanish in that Alandra had left her alone their guest quarters and headed downstairs to the stable.

The day was glorious; the sun warm and the skies crystalline blue. Alandra sat atop her large bay gelding, enjoying the gentle spring breeze. Charger and the princess had come to a rapport over the past week or so. She was considerably lighter than the Telmarines who had ridden him into battle; she smelled better and always brought a carrot or lump of sugar every time she came to see him. Thus, he always stepped nicely when she was atop his back, arching his neck and tail just so.

Alandra knew the large horse wanted a good gallop; the bunched muscles beneath her were coiled and just waiting to spring. But the dainty white mare upon which the elder princess rode would probably collapse after a mere mile's canter. Little Jewel, whom Donnon had earlier tried to give to Alandra, plodded along demurely, resolutely ignoring her fussing rider.

Although any well-brad lady knew the basic principles of horsemanship, Melissande privately felt that any sort of exercise that left one reeking of horse and covered in grime and dirt was one to be avoided at all costs. Nevertheless, she had suffered her childhood lessons with divine patience – at least in her opinion. So, she was competent atop the small mare, if not at all comfortable.

And her mulish sister was again proving stubborn! Why did they have to traipse across this awful empty plain? This entire campaign had been solely for the king's benefit, but he'd been spirited off by state affairs before she even got a word in. Melissande frowned. It wasn't to be borne! Nevertheless, there was naught she could do about it now, therefore she would just have to continue to cajole the oblivious Alandra into returning to the palace.

"We really should turn back," she tried again, thumping her heels against Jewel's sides to catch up with the long-strided bay.

Alandra shrugged, not turning, and Melissande heard her say, "Why? There's no reason to. Everyone's busy back at the castle."

Huffing a sigh, Melissande glowered a bit. Hn, perhaps another tact. "Alandra," she called, again jogging her horse, "we're out here without an escort and there's no telling what sort of brigands might be roaming around! The town's nearly five miles back!"

"Then go back if you want to. I doubt any sort of outlaws would dare venture into the Narnian woods, Melissande, so I'm quite sure we're perfectly safe."

Melissande scowled, clenching her hands on the reins. "I might do just that!" she fumed. "Then what would you do, Miss Priss?"

Alandra smiled absently. "Keep riding, most likely. I'm not afraid."

"I'm not afraid, either!" Melissande declared vehemently, savagely kicking her heels into Jewel's hide, making the horse snort and break into a shuffling gallop. Charger pricked his ears as the white mare cantered past, but Alandra kept a firm hold on the reins.

"Easy, my lovely," she told him. "They'll stop in a moment. We can catch up."

Her offhand remark to her sister had served its purpose, but Alandra couldn't help her giggles as she watched her sister attempt to regain her bruised dignity. Poor little Jewel was no doubt accustomed to having more experienced riders, or at the very least, keeping pace behind a more sedate horse. The white mare galloped dutifully enough but the lack of direction on Melissande's part no doubt baffled the poor creature.

Alandra fought her snarfles as Jewel wove through the grass, zigging and zagging at random. Melissande was used to the more docile horses of her father's stables, as well as perfectly tended riding paths that the animals knew blindfolded. This wide open space unnerved her, which in turn was communicated to her bewildered mount, causing Jewel to finally snort and slam to a halt, nearly toppling the spluttering princess from the saddle.

Melissande fought to regain her balance and Jewel immediately lowered her head to crop at the grass. She eyed her sister as Alandra trotted up, but thankfully the younger didn't deign to comment. Charger nickered at Jewel, who in turn lifted her head and obediently fell into line and followed after.

No more words were spoken as the two approached the woods. Charger didn't hesitate and neither did Jewel, toddling along behind, but Melissande couldn't help a bit of trepidation as they ventured into the trees. To her, the forest seemed vast and dark, laden with unfamiliar rustlings that seemed somehow sinister. The wind moaned through the branches, setting the treetops to sway. Shivering, Melissande pulled her cloak a bit tighter around her shoulders as she gazed around a bit hesitantly, wishing her stubborn sister would just listen!

Alandra, however, had no such worries. In her eyes, the forest was warm and welcoming; the sunlight glistened through the branches and drowned the canopy in golden light. The wind giggled through the leaves, and the trees themselves were still singing their gentle melodies, the harmonies deep and rich against her ears.

They eventually came to the glade she'd visited before and Alandra took a deep breath of the scent-rich air, closing her eyes with a soft smile. She dismounted and let Charger's reins loose, allowing him to graze on the sweet green grass.

Melissande looked around, a bit awed. "What is this place?" she breathed, slowly slipping from her saddle.

Alandra grinned. "This is Narnia. Isn't it beautiful?" She spread her arms and twirled in a circle, laughing delightedly. "I could stay right here and be happy forever!"

A familiar sound made her turn, eyes bright to see the same oak tree lumbering forward, as if to protect from intruders. Melissande uttered a little scream of fright and clutched close to her horse, but Alandra didn't once hesitate. She heard the familiar song and responded, humming along with the melody as it thrummed from the tree's core.

She met the mighty tree across the glade, stretching out her hand in welcome. An inquisitive tendril curled around her wrist and she laughed as it traveled up her arm and curled in her hair. The song changed, becoming more lilting and playful and she began to dance with it, swirling her skirts in time with the lovely music.

Two of the wood nymphs swirled from the trees, darting to the cavorting princess with high giggles of delight. They swirled around her, brushing their petaled hands against her cheeks and greeting her with strangely formal bows, to which she responded in kind.

"Hail, Majesty," one whispered as it swirled between her and the tree.

"Alandra has come!" the other declared, spinning high into the air and diving back down again.

They continued to frolic, a few more curious arboreal forms lumbering from their naps to investigate. Melissande watched wide-eyed as her sister cavorted with these beings, all of them she'd been brought up to believe weren't supposed to act thus. Trees weren't supposed to move about. Nor to sing. But they were; she could clearly hear their music reverberating through the air. Flowers weren't supposed to dance, but they were; the petals were twirling around and around, swirling through the air like ribbons of color.

Standing there, Melissande came to a shocking realization. It was real. The magic was real. For a brief moment, a bit of fear flashed in her blue eyes, but it was quickly banished as her sister turned back to her and beckoned happily. Still a bit wary, Melissande slowly released her saddle and walked forward, wondering just how much of a soak she'd need after returning to the castle.

Something brushed against her shoulder and she yelped, whirling around wide-eyed to see a sapling, barely as tall as she, extending a questioning branch and plucking at her sleeve. Melissande whimpered and backed away, nearly stumbling in her haste to avoid this tree. The little thing paused as if confused, but dutifully marched on, determined to inspect this creature which had invaded its forest.

Melissande bit her lip, so wishing her sister would do something! This was not dignified! In her haste to escape the curious sapling, she turned around again to hurry away but was brought up short by a large ash tree which had seemingly materialized behind the princess. Caught between the two arboreal beings, Melissande could do naught but yank her royal demeanor to the fore and attempt to drown out her fright.

Some yards away, Alandra paused in her frolicking to gaze at her sibling, who was staring defiantly up at a large tree. The ash extended a tendril towards the elder princess and gently brushed against her, withdrawing a moment, then yet another soft tendril curved towards her, then fell still.

Suddenly, the music stopped, the last notes cut off as if shut in a tomb. The trees fell deathly silent and the birds hushed their singing. The silence in the forest was deafening; the only sound in the clearing was the chill whisper of the breeze, ruffling the trembling grasses. Alandra watched in amazement as the trees moved away, back into the forest.

A bit concerned, she hurried to her sister, who was still standing immobile. "Melissande," she asked a bit breathlessly, "are you all right?"

The elder princess's eyes were abstracted, but she blinked and finally glanced at her sister, a frown creasing her brow. "I'm perfectly fine," she answered woodenly. "May we leave now? This place makes me ill." Without waiting for an assent, she turned and walked back to her horse, leaving a puzzled Alandra to slowly follow.

As they rode through the forest, Alandra was startled at the change; before the woods had been a place of wonder and magic, golden sunshine and warmth, but now, grayness covered the trees and silence reigned through the branches and paths. Gone were the laughing nymphs and the bright singing of the birds and trees; the horses made the only noise, the clinking of their harness and muffled sounds of hooves.

Melissande rode in the lead, adamant to leave this wretched place and return to more familiar and comfortable surroundings, but Alandra couldn't help the feeling of melancholy that descended the further they rode. A deep sadness assailed her, making her heart ache.

Once out on the plain, both Alandra and Melissande pulled up short to see a strange sight. Centaurs were galloping from the woods, heading straight for them. Melissande screeched and tried to flee, but Alandra sat calmly atop Charger, knowing they meant little harm.

As they approached, the centaur in the lead halted his column and gazed at the two women, first Melissande then Alandra. She met his gaze fully, seeing that same flicker of recognition in this creature's eyes as she had his son's, Rainstone. In that instant, Alandra knew that this was Glenstorm, great centaur leader and warrior, friend to Caspian, King of Narnia.

"Hail, mighty Glenstorm," she offered quietly, breaking the silence, smiling to see a bit of surprise on the equine-featured face.

Glenstorm nodded, and, even as had his son, dipped into a bow, forehead nearly touching his knee. "Hail, Majesty. Your servant seeks to greet thee."

Alandra inclined her head, sitting a bit straighter in her saddle. "And ever do I allow thee, Honored One."

Alandra could feel Melissande's puzzled eyes on her, but she kept her attention to the centaurs as Glenstorm rose to his full height.

He nodded to her. "My son spoke of you, my lady. He said you have walked among the trees and they call you friend and Queen. Glad I am of your presence here in Narnia. Our land has waited long for you."

Knowing rather than to try to correct their misinterpretations, Alandra just nodded and smiled. "Glad I am to know your son. He is a fine centaur, and proud to call you father, Glenstorm." Recalling her manners, she gestured to her sister. "Melissande, my sister and soon-to-be Queen of Narnia."

Glenstorm turned to Melissande, who knew a royal introduction by heart, and regally inclined her head to the noble creature, all the while keeping her countenance from betraying her uncertainty. "…well met, Glenstorm," she finally replied, not really knowing protocol for speaking with a horse.

Pleasantries exchanged all around, then Glenstorm turned back to Alandra, saying, "We ride to Caspian's castle, Majesty. We have news from Cair Paravel and bring reports of other matters within the wood."

Alandra nearly lurched from her saddle at the mention of Cair Paravel. "Truly? Oh, how I have longed to see the castle of the Kings and Queens! Is it as marvelous as was written?"

Glenstorm chuckled at her enthusiasm as they strode along, then shook his head. "Sadly, lady, 'tis a bare memory of what once was. The Telmarines razed it to the ground during the first invasion. But glad I am that Caspian seeks to restore its glory to what once was. A heartfelt gesture for peace in Narnia once again."

The trek back to the castle was swift, for the centaurs moved with effortless grace through the tall grasses. Charger was delighted to finally break from a boring walk and canter across the plain. Jewel huffed and puffed but she kept pace nonetheless, much to Melissande's chagrin.

Caspian himself rushed out to the courtyard to greet his old friend, followed by his advisors and others who were still demanding a bit of the king's time. Tristan greeted his siblings, inquiring slyly as to the enjoyment of their outing. Alandra gushed happily, rattling off the centaur's names for her brother but Melissande just huffed and left poor Jewel to the stable hands as she hurried off upstairs.

The nerve! She was bedraggled, disheveled, rumpled and just entirely uncomfortable! And not one of those miscreants noticed! Everyone had been so excited to see a bunch of damnable horses, and ignored her completely! She stormed to her quarters, slamming the door behind her and sending the maids scattering, but to their shock, the princess didn't so much as toss a single unbroken jewelry box. Instead, she stood against the door for a long moment, scowling into the distance as her cheeks bloomed with temper. She began to tremble, so angry was she.

The next morning, Donnon scratched his head as one of the Archenland servants galloped off, apparently on a task of the utmost importance. The maid's son carried very little, save for a rather important piece of parchment, folded and sealed within his saddlebag. It was stamped with Bornen's seal, the paper heavy and thick. But the very lightest breath of perfume clung to the paper, fragrances of lily and jasmine.

My lord, it read, I regret to inform you that the situation here in Telmar has changed somewhat. Rather than the smooth transition you hoped for, I fear there might be a bit of a struggle when it time comes. For an unforeseen obstacle has presented itselfa in the most unlikely person.

"She" is proving to be most difficult, especially when it concerns the Narnians; I fear she is gaining their favor. The centaurs seem to regard her as their queen, never mind corrections to the contrary. And the king, I fear, is becoming dangerously affectionate towards her seeming innocence. But you may trust in me, my lord, for I shall rectify that small problem quite soon.

I urge you to come and assess the situation for yourself; I feel as though the plan should be accelerated in order to avoid any other problems that yet remain unforeseen. The sooner things are set into motion, the easier they will be to carry out. However, I desperately await your instruction, for I am, always, your loyal servant.

And it was signed, in a flowing script, "M".