Year 1001

"Tempestra the Great, Stormbringer, Lady of Lightning!"

The crowd seemed to ripple as the nearest guests turned, clothes rustling, to acknowledge Julia. For a moment she merely stood and blinked, dazzled by the array of colors and faces. The Throne Room shone brighter than usual, thanks to some vigorous polishing and a large stock of candles and torches, and the light flashed as it reflected off silver platters, mirrors, and jewels. The Great Hall teemed with shifting clothes and chattering voices when it was normally spacious and calm, and Julia fleetingly considered sidling away and out of the party. But when Edmund stepped forward and extended his arm, she focused on the familiar face and smiled. It was as much his duty as hers to be present, no matter how much they found it tedious.

"Stormbringer? Really?"

Edmund chuckled as Julia took his proffered arm and they glided away from the entrance to the Throne Room.

"Blame Susan for that title," Edmund murmured as the ocean of partygoers parted in front of them with deep bows and curtsies. If anyone noticed their height difference – she was five years older and three inches taller than him – they did not show it. Julia looked at the young king askance.

"Susan?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes, Susan." Edmund nodded in passing at a delegate from Archenland. "She thought it sounded impressive."

"Right, because 'Tempestra the Great' wasn't enough," Julia said under her breath. Edmund just grinned. Slowly, they made their way to the head of the long room.

Julia had not been present for many royal balls – this was her first – but she had to admit that this was most likely not a typical one: most of the guests were adolescents, accompanied by the occasional parent, chaperone, or delegate. The Pevensies had discussed earlier about only inviting young people to the ball. The birthday girl had to be surrounded by people she was comfortable with, after all. Then again, Queen Lucy the Valiant was comfortable with everyone, no matter their age, gender, or species. But the royals had done their homework and chosen the guest list carefully, so that there was none in the crowd whom Lucy did not know.

The Pevensies' thoroughness did not prevent Julia from going one step further and asking some Narnians – those who could blend into a castle as ordinary animals – to do background checks on all of the guests and their potential chaperones and representatives. Her agents, as she had begun to call them, had turned up nothing suspicious, save for one or two delegates who had disreputable histories of theft or lying, and a few young royals who were spoiled by their parents. Julia had persuaded the Pevensies to specifically invite their "personal favorite" delegates, of which the untrustworthy delegates were not included.

"Tempestra!"

There was Peter, awaiting the two of them almost a little too eagerly. Julia observed his pleased smile and wondered briefly if it had already begun – "it" being a decades' long process of Peter falling in love with her. She had thought often of it when she had first arrived in Narnia, but now it barely crossed her mind except in times like these. Luckily, she rarely left any hints that she knew their future and the future of Narnia.

She and Edmund approached Peter, who was departing a group of Narnians from the north. The Pevensies were making a point of paying special attention to the northerners, whose land was a breeding ground of pro-White Witch sentiment. The three of them moved to an empty space at the bottom of the steps to the thrones, which allowed them to overlook the hall.

"Where's Susan?" Edmund asked, glancing around. Lucy was at one of the banquet tables, eating and giggling with some of her young friends, but Susan could not be found in the crowd of guests milling around.

"Dancing," Peter replied, "with the older brother of one of the Lucy's friends."

Edmund grimaced.

"Susan's quite popular with the young men," Julia noted, scanning the dancers and finding the queen twirling with a handsome nobleman. A few others watched wistfully from the edge of the throng of onlookers. "Even if I tried, I don't think I could pull her aside about that title she came up with for me."

"Stormbringer?" Peter asked. Julia nodded. "I thought it sounded inspiring."

The young woman smiled drily at him.

"You would – you came up with 'Tempestra the Great'." She looked back at the dancers. "I'm just not really title material." Peter opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "Sorry, hold on a moment. I'll be back."

Before he could say another word, she descended the stairs and strode towards two of the youths watching Susan and her partner dance. They were the epitome of spoiled, rich adolescents. Even from afar, she had read their lips as they had conversed about Susan's long, beautiful hair, and debated the chances of being able to clip off a lock of it for their personal possession. By the time Julia drew near, one of the young men had left. The remaining one, who had an arrogant nose and smirking lips, barely registered Julia's approach until she had her hand closed around his bicep muscle.

"What-"

"Listen carefully." Julia kept her eyes on the people around them, wary for witnesses. But in the jumble of dancers and talkers, nobody paid them any attention. Even Edmund and Peter, who had been surprised by her abrupt departure, had turned their interests elsewhere. The nobleman attempted to wrench his arm away from Julia, who dug her nails into the sensitive space between his upper arm muscles. He instantly went still.

"You and your friend will not touch Queen Susan," Julia continued, her voice low and soft. She turned to meet his gaze, and her eyes were ice cold. "You will not speak to her. You will not even go near her. If you do, you will risk endangering the friendly relations between your house and this one." She pressed her nails in a little harder, eliciting a whimper of pain from her victim, and added, "If you do, I will come after you. Understood?"

"Yes," the nobleman choked out from between gritted teeth. When Julia paused, he added, "Understood."

"Good." Julia released him and stepped back. "Get out of here."

He promptly fled.

A few minutes later when the dance ended, Susan spotted Julia and came over, slightly out of breath.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, her face flushed. "I thought there was a nobleman here who wanted the next dance, but he seems to have vanished."

Julia shrugged.

"I think he said something about feeling ill," she replied casually. "You look like you could use a drink though." The young woman linked arms with the queen and led her towards the refreshments. "Now, about that title you gave me…"

A/N: Thus begins fifteen years of Julia watching the Pevensies' backs, and the beginning of a slippery slope of questionable things that she does to protect them (which intensifies as the dangers to them does).

I took a self-defense class at one point, and one of the things that I still remember is that hold (which is used together with a bunch of different moves). It's best if your nails are long and sharp, so of course I grew them out for my final, which included a simulated fight against an instructor. I'd definitely recommend a class like that, if you're not confident about your self-defense abilities.