A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update, guys! I feel so horrible about leaving you hanging, but I got so caught up with tests, homework, other stories, and lack of inspiration... I'm so sorry! Thank you so much for sticking with me after such a long wait (if you did... XP), and I hope you can forgive me!

Important: This is my first story that is set completely in bookverse Prince Caspian (well, actually, completely bookverse for any of the books), so I worked really hard on this! I really pray I got everything/everyone right, and I'm sorry if I didn't (if the last is the case, please tell me how I can fix it)!

Basis: This chapter belongs to Peter and Lucy; specifically, during the 'Gorge Arc' of the book, as I call it. Really, it is one of my favorite parts of the book, but one thing that always miffed me was how they showed Edmund and Susan's (even Trumpkin's!) revelations of Aslan, but just skipped over Peter's. That never sit right with me, as he was the High King, and so, I made it up myself.

Please tell me how I did on it; I wanted it to be realistic, but also virtually keeping within the time frame of the book (meaning between Ed's revelation, the part where they say something along the lines of, 'everyone had seen Him now except Susan and Trumpkin,' and Aslan was waiting for them across the River--I think the order actually goes Ed, Aslan waiting, and none for Trumpkin and Su, but I can't find my books, as my Mom moved them for Thanksgiving, and I haven't been able to find them...). Lucy is Peter's favorite sister (as is expressed in this same book), and I don't believe he would go from doubting her to believing her without telling her he was sorry. Thus, this.

---Though I would expect the grand majority of this audience to already know what the heck the 'Gorge Arc' means, it is the part of Prince Caspian which starts out with Lucy seeing Aslan. She tells the others this, as well as the fact that He wants them to go up the side on the gorge, but no one believes her except Edmund. When taking a vote on what they should do, Peter, Susan, and Trumpkin vote against Lucy, saying they should go down the gorge, while Edmund sides with Lu. They journey down the side of the gorge all day until they very nearly walk straight into a Telmarine outpost, making them moving targets. After escaping, Peter sees Lucy may have been right after all, and they trek back up the gorge. At nightfall, they sleep in a clearing, and Lucy is woken by Aslan, who tells her that she and the others should follow Him, though the rest may not be able to see Him right off the bat. She wakes the others and tells them this, and while some (Susan) are disagreeable and call her 'naughty,' the rest are willing to go along with her when she threatens to go alone (as Aslan instructed). They follow her as she follows the temporarily invisible Aslan, though the rest are able to see Him in time: Edmund first, then Peter, and Susan last (of the siblings--Trumpkin is after her). They meet Aslan at the end, front and center.

Disclaimer: I do not own Chronicles of Narnia. C.S. Lewis does, as well as Walden Media Productions and 20th Century Fox Productions.

"There's a hunger

It's slowly growing

Chasing shadows,

But never knowing

If all that I have done

Is keeping me from you,

Then can the arms of mercy bring the rescue

To return to you?"

~"For You Only" by Trading Yesterday

He had been so wrong, so terribly, horribly wrong, and he didn't know how his sister could forgive him so easily.

She had given him the true, real incentive of seeing Aslan again, but he hadn't believed her. Even when Edmund had spoken up, revealed concrete reason why they should believe her, and what with his connection to and understanding of the Lion since He had saved his life, he should have listened.

But, he… His vote had been the deciding one, the last, the Final Sentence of the High King of Narnia, and he had voted against them.

He had doubted the girl about the Son of the Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea, the thing that sent the girl's heart soaring like nothing else ever had or could. Moreover, he had doubted the one aspect he swore he never would again, not after the First Time that had appointed him as High King in the first place: her honesty.

He hadn't directly done it, of course; he wouldn't. He had simply been so ready to find Caspian and defeat the Telmarines, the fiends who had had the audacity to invade their home in its vulnerability, and… He had no good excuse. It was all his fault, and he knew it.

It was his fault Lucy had almost been killed by that bear today, his fault they had nearly been seriously wounded or worse when he'd led them straight into the Telmarine outpost a few hours ago, and it was his fault they had gone down the gorge instead of up.

He had praised Lucy then, telling her how good of a sport she was for going along with everyone when she knew they'd been doing the opposite of what Aslan had asked. She'd given him a small smile and shrugged her shoulders, saying it was all right and that sometimes one had to see something before he believed it, and kept on going.

He knew she had only been tired at the time, for her acceptances of apologies were normally much lengthier and kinder. They had been traveling since early that morning, though, and trudging up and down a gorge was trying work for a twenty-four-year-old stuck in a nine-year-old's war-rationed body, no matter how quickly the Narnian air was making them stronger.

Being the last one awake in the clearing where they'd stopped for the night, he had watched her before. Skin scarily pale as the moonlight had bathed her sleeping form, on her back with her hands cushioning her head as her arms were bent at the elbows, he'd seriously wondered whether essentially ignoring what truly may have been the Lion had caused the Telmarine attack or if it had merely been a coincidence.

Unless Lucy had been right... He had shuddered at the thought, rolling from his stomach to his shoulder, facing away from his sister. He couldn't bear to gaze upon such a firm, Outwardly-believing soul when he had let his faith turn Inward.

He and his siblings had been alone that year, in Finchley. They had had Mother, yes, and the letters from Father whenever he could find the time and supplies to write, but really, they had been guideless and senseless in a land in which their cries of homesickness were only met with blank stares.

He had done his best to stay strong for the three younger ones. They'd needed a sense of familiarity above all else, and he'd been willing to give that in the form of the Kingly brother with whom they had grown up and with whom they were again.

There were darker parts to that time, however, things that had made the frontage all the more difficult to maintain.

Sometimes, he would find Susan crying in the bedroom she and Lucy shared, a simple name or completely unrelated story throwing her into the deep end of her miserable emotions. He would sit with her and embrace her as he had in Those Days, willing her gentle heart to ease for a while.

Edmund would become dark sometimes, remembering the inhabitants of a land no one in England, apart from those affected by it, believed existed. The Just would contemplate his time with the Witch and whether he had even been worthy to rule beside such radiant siblings, once to a point at which Peter had had to slap him with something not unlike the twenty-eight-year-old strength the Four had known.

Lucy would sometimes bite her lip in remembrance of a home and Lion she dearly missed, crying silently valiant tears until the blood came. He would borrow and dampen one of her handkerchiefs, carefully dabbing at the wound; it was so much more than broken skin, a thing made incredibly clear as more tears fell with each press.

There were no 'sometimes' for him, as he could not afford to show such weakness. He had welcomed and shouldered nearly the same burdens at different instances during the Golden Age, and he would strive to handle their equivalents in this new Old Home. No matter how hard it got, his motivation was right there with him.

Stemming from such circumstances and the feelings they entailed, he had come to rely on himself only. Upon returning here, he had let that become stronger, let it blind his judgment and force trust onto his own devices, exactly as he had in that Other Place. His unbridled emotions were his conscience and leader, dulled forms of senses he had missed, and ones he'd mistakenly chosen to follow down this forbidden path.

He wished he could go back, change his vote and make things right before he'd even been given the chance to mess up. That was impossible, however, and he was stuck in the present.

Awake now, though currently for a very different reason than a whirring mind, he listened to a nervous Lucy explain why she had woken them, and he knew they had been given a second chance. If they wouldn't trust Him, Aslan would want them to trust Lucy, and this impromptu midnight trek was proof. They weren't going to pass up this opportunity for redemption a second time on his watch.

He gave her a small smile and nodded, grin widening a little as her face brightened immediately. Taking his hand, she beamed at him, squeezing it gratefully as she allowed him to help her to her feet upon rising himself. He didn't pay it much mind when he heard a faint huff from Susan a few feet to his left; she would be happy again once they were out of the woods.

Feeling his hand suddenly cold, he glanced down to find Lucy gone. Looking up, he found her running ahead, already several paces in front of them by the time she called back.

"Hurry! Aslan's on the move!" The last phrase struck a chord within the three remaining siblings, sent a brilliant fear and gladness rushing through their hearts and souls, and they were eager to follow.

However, after only five minutes of the walking, Susan's morale declined again, and Trumpkin, having never believed in the Lion, simply dismissed the tickle he felt in his chest and went along.

Keeping his youngest sister within his sights as he led what was left of the group—Edmund rushed, Susan plodded, and Trumpkin, at the rear, marched dutifully—Peter couldn't help looking again for the Lion Lucy insisted was there.

According to her, Aslan had not given a reason as to why they might not be able to see Him so soon, but the eldest knew she could guess as well as any of them.

He couldn't stop the spark of envy that lit in his heart. Why was Lucy the only one to see Him? They all knew she was the one most devoted to Him, but were they any less faithful? Yet, that same jealousy burned itself out as quickly as it ignited.

He couldn't truthfully deny turning away over the duration of the year, if just a little. He'd been confused about their departure and emotionally stripped because of his siblings' grief, not to mention his silent own. He hadn't felt the Lion with them then; he hadn't felt reassured or strong or at all as he had as High King.

In their fifteen years as Kings and Queens, the Four had served Him faithfully. He had asked of them sometimes immensely arduous feats, but they'd accomplished them out of love for and faith in Him. They had all believed wholeheartedly, and nothing had ever been able to change that.

In his heart, the reason Lucy could see Him was almost written across her forehead. She had never let go of her hope that she would see Him again, that they would return to their country and find the personas they'd left behind. All along, she'd had faith enough for each of them, if they would have only thought to draw from it.

Shouts from behind alerted him to reality, and it took but a single, backward glance at the alarmed faces to know Lucy was the cause; his middle siblings had worn identical expressions during times of trouble involving their sister, and the Red Dwarf was true to all of them.

Whipping his head to the front, he understood: Lucy was about to fall over the edge.

"For goodness' sake, look out, Lu!" They all ran for her quickly, sprinting faster than the siblings had ever been capable of doing in England. From what his skilled eyes could tell, she seemed to be craning her neck and leaning forward to make sure of something, and he considered his assumption correct when she scurried to climb over the edge and lower herself down.

A mysterious trail they hadn't noticed before wound down the gorge's side.

Perhaps Lucy was right. Maybe He was there with them.

Pulling up just after Lucy had made it down, he protectively continued to watch her. Then, when Edmund came to stand at his side, he gestured in front of him and saw his brother nod out of the corner of his eye. Letting him pass, he smiled at the comforting thought that the younger King would never let anything he could prevent happen to their sister, not after so many years of bleeding for and loving her.

Peter, meanwhile, stayed behind to wait for Susan. He hoped to cheer her up a bit, for all of their sakes.

"Hello! What's that?" Edmund's surprised voice traveled up to him a minute and a half later from a lower point on the trail, numerous feet before a much shallower part of the River. Was he seeing things now, too?

"You see, Ed?" The excitement in Lucy's voice was entirely palpable, and it was no mystery as to why. Not for the first time, he felt dreadfully guilty.

"Yes, well, I do believe I saw Something. What was that Shadow?" Even with all of the trials in England, the Just had only broken a little. Back home now, it appeared as if he was reinforcing that strength with the steadfast belief he'd possessed throughout their Golden Years.

"That was Him, Ed!" Peter could see Lucy's form faintly in the moonlight, and one of her tiny hands was tightly clasping her brother's as they gazed at Something Unseen.

"By Jove, I do think you're right!" Turning to her, the youngest of the Pevensie boys sounded ashamed."Lu, I'm sorry. I should have—" She merely smiled.

"Edmund, you did believe me. Being the second to see Aslan proves that. Thank you," There was silence, and he knew the two were grinning respectfully, companionably, eyes soft as brown gazed into blue. Abruptly, Lucy gasped and peered ahead again. "Come on, He's moving."

Still holding hands as they strode after the Invisible, the High King watched enviously. He wished he could believe like that, like Lucy; he wished he could have as much trust as Edmund. He had, at one time. Where had that part of him gone?

Honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Hearing footsteps behind him, one set of footfalls grumpily heavy to the other's inevitable weightiness, he knew it was Susan and Trumpkin.

"Pardon me, your Majesty," The Dwarf said as he ambled down the ledge by way of a few, conveniently-piled rocks and proceeded to peer at him for direction when back on solid ground. "Would you rather I went with Queen Lucy and King Edmund?" Gazing toward the younger pair, Peter smiled fondly and turned back to the little man.

"No, my Good Dwarf. They know well how to defend themselves, and—" He paused abruptly, not sure if he was strong enough to say this yet. In the end, a mysterious, but recognized Power surged through him, and he knew he was. "And…Aslan is with them. They're perfectly safe."

"Yes, your Majesty." Though he said the words deferentially, there was such disbelief in the Narnian's eyes that Peter felt as if he had been physically struck. For a moment, he dared to wonder if such doubt had ever crossed his or his siblings' orbs in the past twelve months. It was an unsettling thought, and he blinked slowly to clear his head, giving it a shake for good measure.

"Peter, this is wrong. Can't you see Lucy's leading us on a wild goose chase in the middle of the night to get back at us for not believing her before? Why do we even believe her now? She hasn't given us any valid proof that Aslan's been here!"

Susan.

Peter, although not exactly willing to deal with his eldest sister's allegations or whining, forced himself to hold his tongue and breath. Releasing both gradually, he turned to her as she stood on the ledge above them. Reaching up a hand, he spoke to her as he helped her down to his and Trumpkin's level.

"You're not being very fair, Su; you know she wouldn't do something like that. Besides, maybe she can't prove it. You heard her: Aslan said we wouldn't be able to see him right away. Didn't you hear that Edmund's seen Him now, too?" By the look of indignation on her face, he knew she had. He was going in for the kill now, voice a little fiercer; this was something he didn't want to say, but it was what she needed to hear. "Do you really think we would have survived the Golden Age if it hadn't been for her? If we lose Lucy now, we lose Edmund, too—" The color in his sister's face was fading to match the moonlight's already. "And you know I'm not losing either."

Susan was silent now, painful memories no doubt conveying the message. He hated having to do that to her, but sometimes, there was just no other way.

The most important thing at present was catching up to Edmund and Lucy. Pulling her along with him as he walked faster, Trumpkin came on his right side, and the trio quickly covered ground.

In about fifty-five seconds, they were right beside them, five steps from the Great River. Peter and Susan still saw nothing, and Trumpkin thought the younger King and Queen had gone bonkers.

A gentle sloshing reached the High King's ears, and he glanced at his company; none were close to the water, though Edmund and Lucy's faces were eager, and they looked quite ready to splash across in pursuit of—

Wait… As elation filled him, a rather large twinge of fear joining the caravan also, and he immediately looked toward the water.

Yes…!

The cool, blue-white liquid appeared to dance in the moonbeams as Something Unseen leisurely tread through it. The footsteps were of changing size: one minute, they were as big as an elephant's, and another, they were but a small pony's.

When he finally dragged his eyes away from the water to gradually travel upward, wishing to know if he could at last be seeing what he had wanted to see more than anything since their journey's start, he was met with a pair of Eyes.

These Eyes were not the ordinary blue, green, or brown; no, These were gold, a more brilliant and painfully open color than had ever been known to a land or world beyond Narnia. They were noble, loving, forgiving, omniscient, dangerous, and all-piercing.

These were Aslan's Eyes.

Holding the gaze for only a short, fleeting instant as the Lion looked back, his core was made bare and laid out for all to see. Tears pooled in Peter's eyes and began streaming down his visage as a joyous, regretful beam lit there, and though the Face had already turned ahead…he had seen Him!

Squeezing Susan's hand tightly in his euphoria, he looked to her and prayed she could see what his sudden emotional release meant. Salty droplets glazed her own eyes, though not in the way he had intended, and he could not produce an apology before she bent her head toward the ground and refused to raise it.

Powerless to right his mistake, he peeked at Edmund and Lucy. They stared back, grins just about splitting their faces in half as tears fell from their own orbs, and they quickly lunged to embrace him.

Having to let go of Susan's hand in record time in order to catch the two, he didn't realize the strength with which she had been clutching his.

With arms outstretched, he drank in the feel of their warm bodies melting into his as they hugged him tightly, Edmund's arms around his lower chest and Lucy's around his waist. His own arms wrapping around their shoulders, he held them to him and leaned down to kiss their heads through their hair.

Two patches on his chest and stomach were now wet with their tear stains, but he didn't care. He was just glad to be in their confidence again, particularly Lucy's, though he had a feeling he'd never actually left.

After Edmund stepped back, the surrounding company was silent. Placing firm, loving hands on Lucy's shoulders, Peter bent down once more to plant another kiss on her forehead and rest his own atop her head. Grinning as she did, he whispered to her warmly.

"I'm so sorry, Lucy, I really am. I should have believed you. I—" He faltered, but knew he didn't have to explain himself. His sister had always been the perceptive one, and she would know already. "I'm sorry."

Reaching up, Lucy tenderly took one of his hands from her shoulder and kissed its back, laughing. She fell into her Old Speech for a moment, and Old Days had never seemed closer.

"Peter, no pardon is required. I am grateful for the sacrifices you made for our sakes in Spare Oom. Self-reliance was not the righteous path, but as it was on our behalf, I cannot possibly be cross," Relieved as he pulled back to look at her, she gave him a gentle smile and raised palm, all fingers touching except pinkie and thumb. "I love you, High King of Narnia and my heart, and I am true."

Recognizing the last words and hand gesture as parts of the Soldier's Oath from the years of participating in and leading the Narnian army, Peter cried out and laughed in delight, Lucy joining in as she was lifted into the air and swung around in a wide circle. Setting her down, their chuckles died to leave beautiful beams on their faces.

Squeezing his hand one, last time, she rejoined Edmund, gazing ahead to see the Lion waiting for them across the water, His swishing tail expressing an amused need for haste.

Peter taking Susan's hand as Ed did Lucy's, Trumpkin trailed as they forded the River with the utmost consideration. The River Spirit was not the same one the Pevensies had known, but it would not due to offend the descendant of one of their friends.

They followed Aslan through the rest of the night hours and into the early morning, the sky still reasonably gray for an estimate of around four-thirty. There was no questioning their happiness at spying their first glimpse of the open field through the last of the Trees' branches.

Bright smiles formed, even a minute one on Susan's part, and they sighed heavily in relief. Indeed, fresh air without feeling socked in by masses of trees and other familial vegetation was a wondrous thing.

Aslan hadn't stopped yet, so they kept going. However, by the image of the large, stone structure not a long ways off at the other end of the field, they knew they didn't have much further to go.

Neither the Gentle Queen nor the Dwarf had seen literal head or tail of the Lion yet, and Peter was beginning to worry.

Was his sister really so far gone? She'd seemed mostly fine back in England, a little touchy about Narnia sometimes and a bit more cynical than to what he was accustomed, but she hadn't been so bad as to repulse Him, had she?

Lucy watched her brother worriedly, biting her lip. She glanced at Susan, then went back to Peter, and was proven correct in her assumption that he was thinking of their sister. Whether he realized it or not, Peter had a different look in his eyes for each of his siblings, and she normally enjoyed gazing into his blue orbs to see which of them he was pondering. Now, though, she wasn't having fun.

She had noticed the subtle changes in her sister since their return to England. She had become bossier, more cynical, more reclusive, and altogether weaker than she had ever been in Narnia, and Lucy was dearly afraid that they might be losing her. The impression was given that Peter had finally begun to really notice as well, and the youngest could see he was just as worried as she was, if not more.

They climbed to the top of a hill, its high point rounded and wide, and this is where Aslan came to a final halt. The children were not as weary as they might have been after undertaking the same task back in Finchley; instead, they felt as they had as early adults and late teenagers, Peter as twenty, Susan as nineteen, Edmund as seventeen, and Lucy as fifteen. The Narnian air was doing them wonders, and there were no doubts that they would be feeling exactly as strong as they had on the Day of the White Stag in a few hours' time.

The Eyes, golden and magnificent like the rest of Him, bore into each of their souls now, and three of the five rejoiced.

"Come forward, Kings of Narnia." The sole Voice the siblings loved more than any other in any world was rich, powerful, joyful, and they could not—surely, would not—deny Him.

Edmund and Peter marched forward, heads held high like true Kings of a Good Land, though never higher than Aslan's. Lucy moved to follow, but was stopped by her sister's pleading hand and trembling voice. Precious few words could be heard or understood, but the eldest Pevensie distinctly picked up on 'believe,' 'see,' and 'sorry.'

A moment later, the young girl rejoined them, staying a respectful distance behind, but not willing to be too far away. Trumpkin and Susan fell back, uncertain and afraid; Trumpkin could see Him now, too, and if he was any judge of words, Peter could guess Su had been confessing the same of herself to Lucy.

All other thoughts fled from his mind as the Lion's Face came to be in front of his. The words tumbled from his mouth, just as they had that First Time.

"Oh, Aslan," He instantly fell to one knee in a practiced motion, using both hands to lift one of the Great One's Paws to his bent, humbled, mortified countenance. "I'm so glad. And I'm so sorry. I've been leading them wrong ever since we started and especially yesterday morning."

He couldn't see the Lion's Smile, but he could sense it. It was practically able to be felt as well, as love radiated off of the Beast Over All Beasts in waves. Raising his head to see Him in all His Glory, Peter smiled.

Just as Lucy had been so good and forgiven his lack of faith so easily, something he had inadvertently compelled her to do any number of times during their rule and since returning, he could not truthfully say he didn't expect the Lion to follow in her footsteps.

"My Dear Son."

A/N: The lines at the end (not sure about Aslan's first one...as I am without my books...) and ones I may be forgetting, as they would be if you recognize them, are direct quotations from the book. I did, however, paraphrased the descriptive parts (got the quotations as references from my profile when I wrote them there a while ago) where Peter kneels and raises Aslan's Paw to his face, where the boys (and eventually Lucy) come forward and Susan/Trumpkin stay back, and other parts concerning the way down the side of the gorge's ledge.

The parts about the army and hand sign were made up by me, and here is the reason for the sign: in a strange way, I thought it may have looked like the albatross (if you picture a bird's head in your wrist, your three middle-fingers as the tail, and pinkie and thumb as wings), something that (in my mind) may very well have symbolized courage and hope to the Narnians, even so far back as the Golden Age.

Thanks so much for reading! I'll try to make the next update faster, but I have a Science Fair and Honors English project assigned, so who knows?

Oh, and if something is misspelled or there are grammatical errors of any kind in this, please tell me! I'm dead tired, and I don't notice much like that. Much appreciated!