Author's Note: So, it hasn't really hit me that this is over. Like really over. I suppose I was ready to finish this and so I don't feel that aching gap in my chest of pain and loss, but I feel good I suppose. Happy. I'm not exactly sure what I should be feeling at the moment. This is the first thing I have ever finished- not even kidding, I've never finished a story before because I always get distracted or writer's block, but this is the first complete multi-chapter piece I have ever written. I suppose the feeling accompaning that would be elation or pride, but at the same time, this is over and so it is a little bittersweet.

So, this is the last chapter of my first and probably last Chronicles of Narnia fanfic, Blame the Squirrel. It is a very long chapter because I didn't want to skimp on anything and I figured I might as well go out with a bang. Plus, I didn't have the heart to split it into two chapters and I promised that this would be the last chapter- not that you all would have minded if this went on and on and on. Which brings me to the most important thing that I really have to say.

This story started in January 2009, but I began seriously working on it during late summer of 2009. Now, it is late summer 2010 and I find it amazing that I have made it this far. This story has accumulated nearly 300 reviews, over 22,000 hits, nearly 40 favorites, and nearly 60 alerts. One word: WOW. I am just absolutely flabbergasted by all the support and encouragement I have received from everyone. Each one of your reviews has meant so much to me. Some of you were even here from the beginning, back when this story was a mere ankle-biter. I don't want to mention names out of fear of forgetting a loyal reviewer, so you all know who you are. Give yourselves a pat on the back. Some of you joined in later and your enthusiasm for the story and telling me, "Oh my gosh, I just stayed up all night reading this!" always made me smile and my heart swell. I did try to respond to many of your reviews and I feel like we were able to talk very casually, like old friends. So, I cannot say this enough, but THANK YOU ALL SO VERY MUCH. It really does mean a lot to me and I could not have done it without you.

I also could not have done this without my best friends, who have patiently pointed out my dumb typos, helped me work out the kinks in this story, loaned me their books, and were there since day one. I literally recall sitting in my friend's room and saying, "I have an idea," seeing them lean forward in attention, and then telling me there definitely is potential and helping me slap down an outline. Craziness.

Well, I don't want to sound like I am giving my thank you speech for a Grammy or something, but some things just need to be said. Besides, this will be my last chance to say them! This is the end of Astra. I really feel as though I am ready to close this door and move onto other things. I'm sorry and I know you all would like to see more of her, but it is time to let her go. If you are still interested in my writing, I have been working on a Harry Potter fanfic called The Reign of Kellyn Wood. The first handful of chapters are horrendous because I wrote them long ago, but once you get passed that, the story is quite enjoyable and exceptionally addictive. It would be great to hear from you all still.

So, without further ado, I give you the final installment of Blame the Squirrel. Don't forget to review! :)

With lots of love and endless gratitude,

Off Dreaming

CHAPTER 69: Blame the Squirrel

Strange things happened near the End of the World. They lost their appetites. They slept less. The sun always seemed to be out. The huge white birds sailed over them each morning, heading toward Aslan's table. The water became so clear that Lucy saw the Dawn Treader's shadow on the bottom of the ocean. They even saw Sea People and while Lucy was fascinated, Drinian ordered those who had seen to ignore it, for he did not want any of his men falling in love with sea-women and hurling themselves overboard. Of course, this did not stop Reepicheep from diving into the water, but he was motivated by indignation, not lust, for the King of the Sea People most disrespectfully shook his fist at Their Majesties, which Reepicheep took as a personal insult that needed to be righted. However, when they pulled him back onto the ship, Reepicheep had more exciting news to tell than blurt out the sighting of the Sea People.

"I tell you the water's sweet!" he exclaimed. "Sweet, fresh. It isn't salt. 'When the waves grow sweet, doubt not, Reepicheep, there is the utter East,'" he quoted the old prophecy. Drinian was skeptical but was the first to try the water and handed it to Caspian. Caspian took the bucket curiously—the liquid was as smooth as glass and when he took a sip, it was like nothing he had ever drunk before. It was richer than a five-course meal, more warming than hard apple cider on a cool day, more invigorating than a romp on the beach, and just about as fulfilling as a day with Astra. He drank deeply and felt better than ever.

"Yes, it is sweet, That's real water, that. I'm not sure that it isn't going to kill me. But it is the death I would have chosen—if I'd known about it till now," he babbled, not quite sure what he meant, but feeling better than ever. "It's—it's like light more than anything else," he finally managed to clarify, his mind turning to Astra and Ramandu's daughter at the thought of light. He wasn't sure who he thought of first—perhaps it was Astra because she brought light to his life or maybe Ramandu's daughter because she was the daughter of a Star, but they almost (not quite) were one in the same (because of their eyes, and their laughter, and…)

The days passed on. The sun grew brighter, the days grew longer, the sea seemed wider, and even the air seemed to shine, and yet with this miraculous liquid, it all seemed bearable; they could look up at the sun, it wasn't impossibly hot, everything (including themselves and the ship) seemed to glow, and even though there was no wind, they traveled in a current toward what Reepicheep suspected was Aslan's country or a drop-off at the End of the World. This idea of a drop-off greatly puzzled Eustace, who wondered why there would be a drop-off if the world was round. Caspian was rather amused and in a wonderful mood from the liquid light, and asked many questions about round worlds, like if there were parts where people walked upside-down. As an afterthought, he wondered why Astra never told him about her round world and he had a charming mental image of her walking upside down with her curls dangling in the air.

"Would a book perhaps interest you, Mister Pittencream?" Ramandu's daughter asked the sailor who was not brave or loyal enough to continue on the voyage. The man grumbled some sort of reply and crossed his arms, looking rather snooty and angry. Astra was quite ready to give him a piece of her mind, but Ramandu's daughter was far more patient and said for her to give the man a break, because he was probably just bitter. Astra thought 'bitter' only covered the tip of the iceberg and decided to let Ramandu's daughter handle Pittencream so he would still be alive by the time the crew returned for him from the End of the World.

It rained a lot during this time and while Ramandu's daughter disliked the weather, Astra reveled in it by taking walks when it abated to a drizzle or a heavy mist. Pittencream always snorted when she would walk in with raindrops on her eyelashes and wet hair, but Ramandu would chuckle and tell her to put on dry clothes. Once she did, he would always gesture to the spot next to him on the couch and she would curl up under his arm and bask in his warmth.

With Ramandu's daughter's mind filled with Caspian, it was a little easier for Astra to mask her emotions for him. It was a little like falling in love with him all over again and she was able to marvel at the characteristics which she had unknowingly grown to love—his selflessness, his humor, his pensiveness, his strength, his charm, his chivalry, his intelligence, his thoughtfulness, his valor, his humility, and his golden heart. That, of course, and his blonde hair that she knew for a fact was very nice to run one's fingers through and his eyes which were the same color as the ocean (well, perhaps a little greener and a little greyer) that surrounded the island.

As she tried to sleep curled up next to Ramandu, she realized how much time had passed since she turned down Caspian's proposal—nearly five months. It felt like an impossibly long time, since every single day she replayed what had happened in her head. With five months' distance, she realized a few rather important things that happened that fateful day.

One of the reasons why she had turned him down was because she had just realized she was in love with him and was unsure if it would last. Five months later, this was no longer an excuse as she was still very in love with him, so much that she found it rather ached to see him looking at Ramandu's daughter. She was also worried about her age and the short time they had known each other. The latter reason was irrelevant, for probably the only thing he didn't know about her was that her world was round and not flat, but she only withheld this information because he was very silly about these things and always wanted to hear fairy-tales about round worlds and it was all very childish and that was her job. She was young, only twenty years old, and back in Oxford that was far too early to marry; however in Narnia it seemed to make sense. She supposed that a reason why people advised to not marry so young was because a lot of change occurred in the third decade of a person's life. Yet over the past nine months, Astra felt she had changed plenty.

She actually felt like she could be Queen. She had read all those books and the information seemed to not only stick to her, but grow on her. She had role models; she had read what made good qualities in rulers and discovered she actually had many of them already. People listened to her when she spoke; she was vibrant, rational, fair, compassionate, and intelligent. She was adaptable, a good actor, and a little conniving when she put her mind to it. Being a Queen somehow didn't seem too scary anymore; in fact, it seemed manageable.

The only other reason why she turned down Caspian's proposal was because she thought that Aslan had forbidden it and she would hold him back. And that, frankly, was a load of crap.

So in a nutshell, Astra was rather stuck in a corner. She was in love and not only separated by a body of mysterious water but also the body of another girl, who was far too pretty to not be a slight roadblock. It was quite a tricky little game she was in… then again, who was she kidding? She loved games.

Caspian was rather puzzled still, even if the water had greatly improved his mood. By Aslan's mane, was Astra clairvoyant or something? "Perhaps you'll meet a blonde," she had said and damn, Ramandu's daughter was about as blonde as blonde could be without the dumb blonde stereotype. Ramandu's daughter was an odd little thing; Astra would have probably called her bipolar for at one moment the girl was open, humorous, and had a rich laugh and the next she was cold, mysterious, and coy, and the next she was wistful, shy, and whimsical. It was all very confusing to Caspian, who could not keep up with the girl. It was like she was two or three different people, or perhaps one conflicted person and another who was rather determined.

Days from Ramandu's island, they looked out into the horizon to study the stillness of the sea when Drinian and Caspian noticed a great whiteness stretching before them. It looked like ice, but it was far too warm for it not to melt. They navigated the ship out of the current and lowered a little boat into the water to investigate. At last, a verdict was reached.

"What did you say?" Caspian breathed in amazement, shocked at what he heard.

"Blooming lilies, your Majesty. Same as in a pool or in a garden at home."

Astra loved lilies—they were her favorite flower in the entire world. Caspian sighed and let a hand trail over the edge of the ship. The lilies followed them for days. It was both a comfort and a curse for Caspian, as it was a constant reminder of his love and a reminder that he lost her. The smell of the flowers was sweet, but not at all sleepy or overpowering, a fresh, wild, lonely smell that seemed to get into your brain and make you feel that you could up mountains at a run or wrestle with an elephant—which is usually how he felt around Astra. Lucy murmured, "I feel that I can't stand much more of this, yet I don't want it to stop," and Caspian could not have agreed more.

But at last, it became too much. The lilies were everywhere; they stretched on and plagued his mind and made dreams of her return. Even if they were good dreams—wonderful and fantastic dreams—they ached and he finally grew tired. Falling in love seemed too easy, but to put a cork on it was impossible. He didn't want to forget Astra, and yet the pain in his heart seemed unbearable. She changed him when she arrived and she changed him again when she left. He was a different man and probably a better king than ever, but a country and a title was nothing without love. It was with this thought that Caspian stood in front of the entire crew and made his final decision.

"I am going with Reepicheep to see the World's End."

Astra sat on the beach, looking up at the night sky. She had passed by Pittencream, who sat at Aslan's table, on her way out and had bid the man a good evening. He seemed rather angry and ashamed still and turned his head away from the pretty girl. Ramandu's daughter gave him a comforting tap on the shoulder and continued on her way to the beach. The stars were bright and they danced around, making Astra wonder what would happen to her when Ramandu rejoined his friends in the night sky. She wasn't really a Star, so could she follow him? Or would she once again be left alone? This terrible thought caused her to sniffle and bleary-eyed, she looked up once again to the stars and fancied that she saw a starry lion gallop across the sky. Then again, it was probably just her overactive imagination.

"Can't?" he cried, looking at the crew, the captain, the Mouse, and the former King and Queen. "What do you mean?"

"You are the King of Narnia," Reepicheep said with a very low bow, although there was an angry and indignant tone in his voice despite his respectful posture. "You break faith with all your subjects, and especially with Trumpkin, if you do not return. And if your Majesty will not hear reason it will be the truest loyalty of every man on board to follow me in disarming and binding you till you come to your sense."

Why don't you come to your senses? Caspian wanted to scream. Could they not see that he was decided? Could they not see that even the liquid light could not mend a broken heart? By Aslan's mane, how dare they challenge him, how dare they question his authority, and how dare they degrade him so?

"And you've almost promised Ramandu's daughter to go back," Lucy just had to say and Caspian lost a little resolve. He didn't want to see her—he just wanted to see her eyes, that was all.

"Well, have your way," Caspian growled, knowing that his anger was only just getting revved up. "The quest is ended. We all return. Get the boat up again." Reepicheep began to protest that one must remain behind to end the enchantment, but he would hear none of it. "Silence!" he roared. "I've been lessoned but I'll not be baited. Will no one silence that Mouse?"

"You Majesty promised to be good lord to the Talking Beasts of Narnia," Reepicheep said with a slight cool edge in his voice.

"Talking beasts, yes. I said nothing about beasts that never stop talking." It was low and cruel and with the way his anger burned his stomach, it felt so good to yell and storm off into his cabin. He did have a rather beastly temper that liked to rear its head at odd times. In his cabin, however, he had a visitor. "Aslan!"

"My son, you have disappointed me," He said and it was the worst thing He could have possibly said. "For shame," the Lion hissed, "for shame Caspian, to come so far only to turn back." The lion's eyes were terrible and penetrated him, almost like they were fishing through his thoughts and boring into his soul.

"I—"

"No, listen, for you have done enough talking," the Lion scolded him, his deep voice both frightening and thrilling. "You think this voyage is done, but it is only half-way over. Has not your time with Astra taught you that?" Caspian bowed his head, ashamed. "Reepicheep, Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace are to go on. You are to go back at once. This is the end of the adventure, but only half of the journey. You have further to go."

"I am at the End of the World! Where else is there to go?" Caspian protested.

"You are to go where you have not gone before," the Lion said, and Caspian wondered if he was being literal or not. "I would keep an eye out. You never know what hidden treasures you may seek…"

"Treasure? Aslan, this does not make any sense!"

"But it will. Have peace, my son; when the time comes, you will know what to do."

A week later, Astra saw a speck in the sea. She went running up the hill, past Aslan's table where Pittencream sat in his grouchiness, and through the door in the hill and into the sitting room.

"Father!" she cried out breathlessly. "The ship has returned!" The old man shut his book and got up, but was too slow for his over-exuberant daughter, who bounded out of the house and down the hill, her long blonde hair flowing behind her.

Both Astra and Ramandu's daughter were positively ready to die from anxiety and excitement, if such a death was possible. She stood on the dock, waiting as the crew slowly made their way to land, her eyes peeled for the one she sought out. For a terrible moment, she wondered if Caspian had gone on to the utter East. Her heart stopped in terror. Would he really leave Narnia behind? Would he leave her behind? Ramandu's daughter seconded this thought and Astra immediately bristled and scowled.

"No, stop it, stop it," she shouted in her head. "Don't you understand? I'm in love with him. I'm in love with him." Suddenly, Ramandu's daughter became very, very quiet, as if she was never even there and at last, Astra was able to properly think and waved hello to the crew, who all took off their caps in respect. She searched the crowd until she saw who she was looking for—Caspian was worse for wear, his eyes clouded over with loss and once everyone was on the island, Astra realized the reason why: Reepicheep, Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace were absent. They had gone on to the utter East. Astra's eyes prickled and she tried blinking and looking away when Caspian approached her.

"My Lady, why do you cry?" he asked carefully.

"The Mouse… he… he…"

"He has gone to the utter East," Caspian said with resignation. He looked at her puzzled, wondering why she would cry over someone she did not know.

"I did not know him well," Astra lied, "but one did not need to know him in order to see that he was the most noble of all Beasts." Caspian's eyes grew sad at this and he offered her a handkerchief to dry her eyes.

"My Lady, if it pleases you accompany me, I would like to take a walk for a little solitude."

"Wouldn't my presence then be rather defeating the purpose?" Astra asked, still able to give Caspian a coy look despite her waning tears. Caspian's lips quirked for a moment.

"I am looking for treasure," he said with a slight note of playfulness. "I could use the extra set of eyes."

"My eyes, your Majesty?" Astra could not help but ask, taking the opportunity to look up at him for what Astra assumed may very well be the last time. He seemed lost for a moment before he sighed, looked down, and responded.

"Yes, your eyes," he whispered and the two slowly walked off together.

"What kind of treasure is it?"

"I am not sure," the King murmured. "As far as I know, it could be metaphorical treasure."

"That certainly narrows things down," Astra said slyly, causing Caspian to look at her oddly before shaking his head and continuing. "In this book I read," she could not help but add, "it told the tale of a man who went out seeking treasure, only to realize that he had the real treasure all along. The title was—"

"The Tales of Barnaby Brawn," Caspian breathed, looking at her.

"You see, your Majesty, the treasure was not gold or jewels or power or peace, but love. I do think that is the real treasure in life." Caspian's eyebrows furrowed together and he opened his mouth to speak, but Astra continued, knowing she would only have one chance to say what needed to be said. "There will always be love, your Majesty, everywhere you look. Your subjects love you, your country loves you, and Aslan loves you. She knows you love her, she really does, but it pains her so much to see you suffering in your love, because love is not supposed to hurt that bad, not enough to make you want to take a diving leap off the End of the World."

"Who is 'she'?"

"But you came back, your Majesty, you returned. This treasure that you seek has been with you all along. She will always love you, know that, and do not let all that she has done for you be in vain. Just love everything back, your Majesty—that is what you must do to have the treasure remain precious."

" 'She'? Who are you talking about?" he roared, taking her small frame by the shoulders.

"You know, your Majesty, you know," Astra whispered, looking up into his eyes.

"How do I know? How do you know?" he quickly corrected himself. "Do you… do you talk to her?"

"Not really," Astra said with an innocent twist of her hips. "Well, sometimes if she is agitated," she added, thinking of how she talked to herself when peeved. "But mostly I just listen."

"Is she here?" he asked and the hope in his eyes made Astra want to cry.

"She is right here," Astra said with a pointed look.

"Who are you?" Caspian breathed.

"I am Ramandu's daughter," Astra simply replied.

"But who are you?" he asked again. Astra wanted to say—she so desperately wanted to blurt it out, but something froze the words in her tongue. She let out a sob, looking toward the heavens.

"Oh Aslan!" she cried out loud. "If there ever was a time when I needed your strength, it would be now. Please, oh please," she sobbed, leaving Caspian more bewildered than ever. There was nothing and she sobbed again, but mid-sob she heard something whisper in her ear.

"Child," said Aslan, "I am here. And you made a wish. You made a wish on the day that Caspian left. You wished on a fallen star that things would work out. You have done your part and therefore, I must honor your wish."

"Thank you," she happily cried, suddenly knowing exactly what to do. "Your Majesty, please look at me." Caspian looked at her, his eyes fixed on her nose. "No, please, please just look at me. Look me in the eye."

"My Lady, I must tell you—"

"Save your breath, I already know. Please, I know it pains you, but just look me in the eyes and remember," she begged, cradling his face in her hands. "Remember how it was." Slowly, Caspian raised his eyes and he was caught in blue.

In that blue, there was love, happiness, freckles, meadows, daisy chains, horseback rides, paintings, empty wine bottles, laughter, kisses, bare feet, books, pillows, warmth, and most of all, Life.

Suddenly, the blueness lowered a few inches. Then, her eyelashes grew dark. Caspian all of a sudden saw freckles. Then dark curls. Then the hands on his face felt familiar and the quirky little mouth was unmistakable. But what made him really put it all together was the laugh—the loud, joyous laugh that made him remember what it was to truly live. Astra Celeste Gorlois—not Ramandu's daughter—stood in front of him and he wasted no time in doing what he had waited for months to do. Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her in mid-giggle.

And as some storybooks may say, the rest was history.

"Hoooooly shit, I can't do this!" Astra cried, pacing the room as the seamstress, May, Hanalei, and Maria all yelled at her to stay still for the sake of the flowing white dress.

"Yes, you can, my daughter," Ramandu replied.

"But I can't!" she protested. "This is insane. This is madness. No, this is SPARTA!"

"Oh Aslan," Maria muttered. "The girl has finally traversed into utter lunacy."

"This is actually Narnia, not Sparta," Hanalei corrected her, her wedding ring from Kaden flashing in the sunlight from the window.

"Perhaps a cup of tea would do you good?" suggested May, rubbing her swollen belly. "I have been craving chamomile and raspberry scones all day."

"My daughter, you love him, yes?" asked Ramandu and Astra nodded her head, glancing down at the engagement ring resting on her left hand, where it was meant to belong for such a long time. "Then you can do this. We will walk together, as father and daughter." Astra smiled at the old man, pushing back tears.

"I'm ready."

"You have been for a long while," the man said with a smile, taking her arm and pushing open the doors.

They stood in front of each other, unable to take their eyes off of each other. Although Caspian's heart pounded, there was a solid steadiness in his feet as if at that very moment, he was exactly where he belonged. His almost-wife stood before him, her curls falling down her back, her body wrapped in a long, white dress, a daisy chain on her head, lilies in her hand, and her feet bare. It was something she insisted on, along with having the wedding outside so all could comfortably see. It was a beautiful day but the woman standing before him was even more beautiful.

They promised. They promised to have and hold, to cherish and protect, to care and support, to respect and encourage, to laugh and to cry. But most of all, they promised to love each other and somehow, this was the easiest promise of all.

Caspian kissed Astra and she smiled into his lips. When they finally parted, it seemed as though all of Narnia was whistling, cheering, hooting, cawing, roaring, neighing, barking, chirping, crooning, and sighing.

"How did I ever manage to meet you and fall in love with you?" Caspian asked rhetorically, their noses touching.

"Oh," Astra sighed, her eyes wandering away for a moment, "now is really not the time to explain. But if you must have someone to blame when you are cross at me, I would say to blame the squirrel." Caspian cracked a smile and Astra leapt to the tips of her toes to capture his lips once again.