"Then with a roar that shook all Narnia from the western lamp-post to the shores of the eastern sea, the great beast flung himself upon the White Witch."

And in that instant, even Time itself halted to give honor to the Lion.

The sound of it was deafening. It hung in the air for long after the great beast that had made it had closed his mouth. The power behind it was enough to make the very earth tremble in awe. Even the land could not keep itself from showing its respect for the High King above all High Kings. Every last inch of Narnia, from the stars above to the trees below to the stones below that, every particle bent its knee at the sound.

All thought was driven from the mind at the thunder of the roar. It completely overpowered – no one could hear it and not pause in amazement. There was simply no avoiding it. Something in the tone commanded full attention. And it couldn't be ignored, even if one wanted to.

For this was a roar that was not just heard, but felt. As mighty as the sound that was heard with the ears was, it was mere background noise to what was heard with the heart. Every creature in Narnia ceased what it was doing as something leapt up from deep within.

For each, it was different. For Peter, battle weary and worn, a new sense of strength poured into him from every direction. His senses were sharper, his mind alert, and the sword in his hand was gripped with a firmer determination than ever before, his heart blazing with a courage like nothing he'd ever felt before.

For Edmund, gasping for breath and struggling to remain coherent, the sound of the roar surrounded him, bringing with it peace and comfort. He relaxed, knowing that despite all that he had done, when it mattered most, he had made the right decision – and he knew that all had been forgiven.

For Susan, her heart pounding, His roar brought hope. Her gentle heart had gone out to all the poor Narnians that had suffered at the hands of the Witch, and now she knew they all had hope. No longer would they be subject to the cruelty of the Witch posing herself as Queen, and the future would be as brilliant as the golden mane of the Lion.

For Lucy, near breathless with wonder, the sound wound in her and about her and through her, filling her with an almost unbearable and uncontainable joy. Here she was in the presence of the Great Lion Himself, a witness as He demonstrated his awesome power and glory and might and majesty – it was enthralling and exhilarating. She wanted nothing more than to remain in the paws of the Lion she loved and who loved her back – to remain there forever.

But for the Witch, it had the most profound effect of all. For even she was not able to overcome the power in the roar, even she had to bow to the strength of the almighty True King of Narnia. For centuries she had defied Him, sought to take His kingdom for her own, refused to acknowledge His sovereignty – and all of that crumbled with her at the sound, for she knew she could do so no longer. She didn't even try to resist as Aslan launched toward her, as she knew it would be futile. She had lost, and never could have truly won. Such was the last thought to flit through her mind as she fell.

Stillness settled after the echo of the roar fell away.

And in that stillness, if you tried hard enough, you could almost hear the icy chains that had frozen Narnia to its core for a hundred years shatter into a thousand unseen pieces.

At the sound of his roar, sorrows truly were no more.

A/N: Argh, words can be so inadequate sometimes... it's so difficult to take the indescribable feeling I always get when I read (or hear, thanks to the movies) of Aslan's roar, especially during this scene, and put it into words. Still, I don't think I'll ever be able to accurately depict such a feeling, no matter how hard I try, and I think this is the best job I can do of it.