Disclaimer: C.S. Lewis is the one to credit everything Narnia related, not me.

Mr. Beaver cast a pleading look at Mr. Tumnus, urging him to take up the cause and nag their Majesties a little further. The four monarchs had retired from an open claims court quite exhausted. They had hearts for all of their subjects but the open claims court allowed Narnians to plead their grievances to the four. The scope of the grievances was great and more often than not, the Magnificent, the Gentle, the Just and the Valiant heard more domestic squabbles than anything else. Mr. Beaver knew that lobbying the fact that an off season castle was imperative would fall on eight deaf ears after the taxing session in court.

"Consider it this way Your Highnesses," Mr. Tumnus began briskly. "You've ruled Narnia justly and fairly from Cair Paravel for five years now. And quite frankly, it is imperative that you set up court in another location for several months out of the year."

Beaver nodded and added enthusiastically with wide paw gestures, "He's bloomin' right, ya know. We can't keep you here in the Cair while there are Narnians in villages that haven't even seen ya yet."

The two paused to let the information sink in. The Pevensies had long since flopped on the cool sands of the beach, worn from hearing about goat ownerships. Susan was leaning back on her elbows, drinking in the last vestiges of the sun's warmth whereas Edmund had taken the less refined approach and sprawled out on the sand. He didn't seem to mind the ground earth sticking to his fine formal attire nor its presence in his dark hair. The High King had a little bit more respect for his fine attire and rolled up the legs of his trousers before unceremoniously flopping down on the other side of Edmund. The youngest monarch of Narnia had decided to use her sister's legs as a pillow and had laid down on the sand. Her eyes were affixed on the horizon and had a vacant look about them. Tumnus had observed his little friend's withdrawn reactions over the past few days and hoped that the Valiant was not ailing.

"You know," Peter began, "I've come to agree with you Tumnus. Having a second court in Narnia will illustrate our power as monarchs, unite the people even more and most importantly provide a change in scenery." He looked at his brother and sisters for affirmation but only got an uninterpretable grunt from Edmund and a mumble from Lucy that sounded oddly like "trout". Knowing that was going to be the most coherent response from them Peter turned back to Tumnus and Beaver. "Let it be so." He told them wearily as he massaged his brow in an attempt to clear the headache that had descended upon him somewhere between the honey tree dispute and which nanny goat got the kid. The line sounded like a well worn mattress, the High King had said it so many times within the past five years.

Beaver and Mr. Tumnus bowed low, beaming at the decision and promptly left the spent monarchs to sort through their own thoughts and enjoy the sunset. The siblings sat watching the surf's vain attempts to grab their ankles. With in five years since entering Narnia, there had been some changes to the four, some more pronounced than others. Peter had grown robust and tall at seventeen-almost eighteen. He had refrained from growing a beard as many advisors suggested against. For some reason facial hair was intimidating to foreign dignitaries and gave the illusion of age. The High King was still unfailingly protective of his family and even more so since Susan at sixteen was beginning to get serious suitors calling. She had only grown lovelier as the years went by and dignitaries from farther away admitted to her that her beauty was renowned.

"I can just crawl in bed and sleep for days." She told the others with a sigh. The wind blew her dark hair out of her plait.

Ed gave a grunt from his position. "Not me," he replied with an easy nonchalant tone, "I can just sleep right here. I always forget how trying these open courts can get." It was a false act for the three knew that deep down Ed's passion was justice. At fifteen Edmund had all but shed the last vestiges of childhood save for his freckles; the bane of his existence. There was a pause before Edmund continued, looking at Peter out of the corner of his eyes. "Say, Peter, can you do me a favor?"

The High King cast a flat look at his brother. "I'm not carrying you back up to the Cair if that's what your thinking." He told Edmund frankly. Susan laughed, tossing her head back in amusement and letting go of the demure front she had in court. She ruffled Edmund's hair (much to his protests) and announced that Peter carrying Edmund piggy back would be a sight to see indeed.

"Shut thy mouth, dear sister." Edmund grumped in the formal dialect they employed at state affairs. The Just king took a hand full of fine wet sand and tossed at the back of his elder sister's head. Susan gasped as the muck hit her right cheek just as she turned to look at her younger brother. She reached over Lucy, who was on the other side of her, to reach a hand full of sand but was stayed by the youngest Pevensie breaking her silence.

"Stop." Came the very un-Lucy-like plead. Her head still rested on Susan's legs, the young queen's red hair spilling about her head like a shoulder blade length halo. For the past few days, her older siblings had noticed that Lucy was becoming more withdrawn from everyone, preferring silence over her happy chattering. She rolled on her side, facing away from the three concerned faces and absentmindedly nestled her face in the fabric of Susan's skirts. "Stop, please." Lucy repeated, her voice mumbled from the fabrics. With in the past few years, Lucy had not really changed much. Yes, she had just barely turned thirteen and was beginning to get a more hourglass figure, but her personality was still enticing and electric. Her still innocent mind set had won her the loyalty and friendship of all who met the young queen.

Peter exchanged worried glances with Susan. Instantly the eldest queen's hand touched Lucy's forehead, searching for any signs of fever. She didn't have to inquire if Lucy was feeling alright, the Valiant knew the unsaid sentence forming on her sister's lips.

"I'm fine." Lucy assured Peter and Susan unconvincingly, still buried in the yards of white eyelet linen and pale yellow silk of Susan's gown.

"You haven't really been yourself, Lu." Peter explained with the kind concern that only an older brother could master. "You've been a virtual recluse only coming out of your chambers for meals and official events. Are you…sure nothing is wrong?"

"I think I of all people would know how I feel, Peter." Lucy replied uncharacteristically tarty as she turned her head to look out to the sea. Her hand hastily wiped a stray tear but not before her siblings took notice.

"Maybe its indigestion." Edmund quipped out of the blue while absentmindedly flicking grains of sand from his sleeves. The looks from the two older Pevensies silenced him and the four sat in an uneasy stillness. At length Edmund sighed and stood up. "You guys remember a few years ago when that rogue shark kept attacking the Naiads? And the only witness was a giant clam who was brought to our piers against his will to testify?"

"What has that got to do with the price of lentils in Tashbaan, Ed?" Susan asked flatly. She was gravely concerned with Lucy's behavior and could not help but know that something was weighing so heavily on the thirteen year old that she could scarcely stand it anymore. It was not time for Edmund's stories.

"Recall how hard we had to sweet talk that clam and no matter how we pampered Leroy he wouldn't speak of the crimes until he was good and ready?" Edmund pressed stubbornly as he brushed off the sand that stuck to him. There were times at court where Edmund would use the same tactic when he wanted to make a point. They were spontaneous parables that did not seem to tie in with the situation until he had explained it and then it would make perfect sense. Unfortunately this was one of those times and Peter had no time for beating around the bush.

"Aye," he agreed tensely, deciding that he had no time for this, "What of it?"

"Leroy only testified when he was ready." Edmund continued doggedly, "And Lucy is no different from a clam."

A pale hand shot out from Lucy's fanned out hair and hit Edmund in the shin sharply. "I resent that." She told him with a small smile on her face.

Edmund gave a smirk back and joked that the resemblance was uncanny. The four smirked and settled into a silence that lasted until the last rays of the sun dipped beyond the ocean. At length Peter stood up and stretched his arms to the darkening sky. A loud and uncomely yawn announced that he was ready for bed. Within moments Edmund followed suit.

Susan stifled a yawn and shifted her weight to prompt Lucy to get off of her numbing legs. When her sister did not get up, Susan gently raked her hand through Lucy's flamed hair. "Dear one, its time for bed." She whispered to her sister as she gently shook her shoulder to rouse her sister. Instead of sitting up however, Susan felt her sister stiffen. The eldest queen looked to her brothers who were almost out of hearing range and unaware that Lucy wasn't ready to leave the shore. "Su," Narnia's youngest queen began hesitantly, her eyes looking vacantly at the sea, " Can I talk to you in private for a bit?"

With in a heartbeat the elder Pevensie girl agreed and turned at Peter's hollered question of if they were coming. Assuring her brothers that they would catch up, Susan cast her attention to Lucy who had sat up, tears streaking her face in the rising moonlight. Something had upset Lucy, Susan was certain of that with one look at her face and she wracked her mind for instances that would have disconcerted the young teen.

Softly, Susan reached up and wiped away a small tear halfway through its pilgrimage down the bridge of her sister's nose. "Now," the elder began in her best 'mothering' tone, "Would you like to tell me what this is all about, Lu?"

Tears began to spill like a flood onto Susan's gown and the sand. A sob racked the girl's body as she set her head on her big sister's shoulder, unable to say what was ailing her. It was beyond instinct that Susan stroked Lucy's hair. Her strokes fell into a rhythm with the crash of the waves and her periodical hushing and she began rocking Lucy like the night they sat weeping at the Stone Table. The Gentle was at a loss to say and all she could do was sway back and forth, the concerned lines on her forehead deepening in a helpless confusion.

"I…I keep seeing it when ever I sleep." Lucy began shakily at last. Sobs still wracked her form as she spoke. "It is a nightmare I can't shake, Su. Every time I close my eyes it is there haunting me…I-I can't have a moment's rest with out it hounding me."

Susan instinctively picked up the pace of her swaying as she swallowed a lump forming in her throat. Quietly, she asked Lucy what the nightmare was that tormented her so. Slowly but surely a disturbing tale began to take form between sobs.

"We were in this great hall…but not Cair Paravel's. It-it was smaller, more intimate but finely crafted. It looked as if we were having a ball with all of our subjects and you, Ed and I had already descended this grand spiral staircase. There was a fanfare and as Peter begins to descend the staircase, and all of our subjects bow in respect. Then out of nowhere, some-some force lifts Peter off of the ground he stood on and he is pressed against one of the stone walls, gasping for breath. There was screaming and wailing all around us and oh! Susan, the wails were so chilling so…unearthly. While we were crying out in horror and sobbing to-to put Peter down, Edmund lead Oreius and the other guards to the base of the stairs, with their swords drawn to fight a foe we can not see." Lucy paused and even though Susan's very soul longed to beg Lucy to not tell her anymore, she could not bring herself to it. It was all she could do but listen in horror as the nightmare took a turn for the worst. "Over the din of everything I heard you cry out, 'In the name of the Great Lion, Aslan, I demand you put him down.' And….and then in a drop of a hat, the spirit complied and Peter was thrown to the base of the steps….ri-r-right on Edmund's battle ready sword. By the time we….by the time you and I got there, Peter had…."

As if released from its confinements, Susan found her voice as she tightened her embrace. "Hush dear one." She whispered, cloaking her own fear at the ghastly dream. It was no wonder Lucy was withdrawn, Susan thought to herself, such a night terror would shake even Narnia's bravest. "You needn't tell me anymore, please."

The two sat in the descending light. Disturbed by the revelation herself, Susan hid her amounting fear and continued to wordlessly rock her sister back and forth until sleep over took them both.