A/N: This idea simply came to me one day/night (whenever it was) while watching a part of PC for a basis of another story. I know I have been (and more than likely will continue) focusing a good portion of my stories on Lucy's potential guilt about leaving Narnia, but I...just can't imagine she'd be the same girl she always was without a recurring guilt complex! I can't get over how realistic and horrid a guilt issue would be, you know? Thus, please don't hate me if many of my future stories also deal with this theory of mine (and believe me, there will be more)!

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is in Lucy Pevensie's point-of-view (again-- I just LOVE her XD)!

Disclaimer: Walden Media and Disney are responsible for the 2008 movie, Prince Caspian, while C.S. Lewis actually created the characters and storyline. I own nothing, and it shall most likely remain that way.

Kindred

I awoke jerkily, startled by the words that resounded loudly in my head. Breathing quickly and heavily, I propped myself up on my elbows and looked around. Everyone was here: Peter, Edmund, Trumpkin…Susan… My spirits fell even further as I laid my eyes on my sister; I wasn't angry at her, no, just….hurt by her words from earlier.

"But, you're happy to be here, aren't you?" I'd asked incredulously. She had to be happy to be here after so long! She had to be…

"…While it lasts," she'd answered. She'd promised me, just before our reign had begun in Narnia a technical thirteen hundred years ago by its standards, that she would change that negativity about herself, change that disheartening realism. She'd promised… Had she really forgotten so easily…?

I didn't want to, couldn't, ponder the memory or screeching doubts any longer; they'd already invaded my dreams, given me nightmares of things that could and would never happen. I had to get away.

Tears had already begun to course their way down my cheeks, and my stomach became increasingly queasier as the seconds passed. I tried to muffle my sobs with a hand over my mouth and calm my insides by taking deep breaths, but my efforts were futile; I would either wake them with my cries and cause Susan immense guilt or vomit everywhere and obtain the same result.

There was no choice for me but to run, and run I did. I stumbled and picked my way through the forest on shaky limbs, tears periodically blinding my vision and enveloping my senses, my conflicting thoughts and emotions shrieking for mercy in my mind and heart. Collapsing to my knees in a tight grove trees quite a ways from our camp, I sobbed violently into the open air, the hand blocking my mouth free and instead locking securely around my stomach.

We couldn't leave again; we couldn't! Everyone we'd loved during our reign was dead; wasn't that punishment enough? Thinking back, though, we hadn't been given a warning or choice last time we'd left either…for which I was to blame…

That thought really did make me throw up, and I mentally apologized to the trees for having them be witness to it, no matter that Trumpkin had said they hadn't been active since we left… Again, I gagged and wretched disgustingly, the smell of the salty tears swiftly sailing down my face coupling putridly with the stench of the vomit. I could scarcely draw a breath between heaves, the assaults on the contents of my stomach only pausing for less than a second in between bouts, and I wished for some relief.

Suddenly, what should appear in my vision but a hand, strong and somehow comforting, gently pulling back the strands of my red-brown hair that had been hanging in front of my face? I wanted to look up and identify the person, for the hand was none I recognized, but I didn't out of fear of bathing the individual in rather gross sick.

The kind fellow waited with me through the next several minutes until I could properly function again, carefully rubbing my back and keeping my long hair out of my face. He, only suspecting as much from the glimpse I'd gotten of his large, lightly calloused hand, hadn't adjusted position or spoken since he'd appeared, and I was surprised to find the hood of a decidedly dark, perhaps plum-colored cloak shrouding his face when I turned to him for the first time.

It had frightened me at first, as I'm sure my gasp and flinch backward made blatantly obvious, but one on his hands shot out to steady and prevent me from toppling into my own puke, and its calm warmth soothed my racing heart almost instantly.

As I relaxed, he withdrew his hand and respectfully bowed his head prior to handing me a handkerchief, though he still remained silent. Taking this well-known, Narnian courtesy of mutual respect as a sign that he was trustworthy, I shyly took it with a smile before using it to wipe my mouth thoroughly, turning away as I swabbed my tongue to try to rid my mouth of the vomit's foul aftertaste. Twisting back around to face him, I stuffed the dirtied cloth into my dress pocket; I wasn't going to give it back to him in such an unsanitary condition.

He seemed to understand, for he nodded the slightest bit. Continuing to grin, I decided it best to introduce ourselves properly; this…boy, it seemed, had been too kind for me to not be polite.

"I'm Lucy. I'm sorry you had to see me like that. I…had a bit of a fit, if you know what I mean." My hand started to shoot out to initiate a handshake, but I quickly stilled myself, a frown taking charge of my lips. After living in England for a year, I silently despaired, I had almost involuntarily slipped halfway back into its habits rather than keeping my home's as second nature. A chuckle sounded from the boy; yes, from a sound like that, I was now convinced the being was a boy. But…how could…— I was interrupted as the boy started to introduce himself.

"I…I am…" For some reason, he appeared to be having trouble forming words, almost like they were a cause of physical pain to him somehow. Feeling a rush of sympathy and compassion for him, I spoke delicately.

"It's all right. You don't need to tell me if it's too complicated for you." Smiling gently, I leaned forward to touch his hand, and I was startled and a little concerned when he stiffened. Pulling my hand away and straightening to put a comfortable distance between us for his sake, I gazed at him a bit anxiously, though I didn't make a move to pry. "Are you okay?"

He seemed to jump at my voice, almost like he'd forgotten my presence, like he had been absorbed in some far-off memory, but he regained his composure soon enough.

"Yes, Qu—I mean, yes. Thank you, Lucy." He fixed himself quickly, but not so rapidly that he was too fast for my trained ears. A small gasp leaped into the air from somewhere inside me, and I narrowed my eyes searchingly at my potential ally or enemy. He'd stumbled on my name…he'd almost addressed me as Queen Lucy, I know it. During our reign and, following our leaving, the time that had become known as the 'Golden Age' of Narnia, I'd had my fair share of name slip-ups from servants and other close friends I'd requested switch from my proper title to my familiar one; I knew one's sound by instinct.

An unexpected question popped into my mind, and excitement bubbled through me. I'd begun to ask the query before I'd really thought it through.

"Do you—" I stopped myself swiftly, no more than halfway done. I had been about to ask if he knew me, but…everyone my siblings or I would know was… Shutting my eyes against the sudden flood of tears, I opened them and exhaled roughly when I knew they were stalled, if only temporarily.

Still determined to find out what was going on, I stared back at the boy; I could see none of his face due to the cloak, and the moonlight tonight did not serve well for distinguishing mysterious characters. Yet, his words ran through my mind, and it was only now that I took notice of his Hispanic accent. But…that tongue only belonged to—

"I am from Telmar, but I am not a Telmarine. My place of birth and nationality should make no difference to you, for I am no less Narnian than yourself." For the first time since he'd spoken, his voice had taken on a steely, cold quality, and I couldn't help but feel guilty; he must have registered the shock on my face and hair rising on my neck as the thoughts had occurred to me. Looking at the grass between us, I choked out an apology.

"I'm sorry." This time, he reached over and took my hand, squeezing it reassuringly as I gazed up at him, eyes wide and eyebrows raised at the action. His tone was light again, though the burden in it had not waned.

"No, I should be sorry. I got defensive; I have been scorned by those who do not deem me worthy to live alongside the Narnians for so long that I…I lost myself. I apologize…Lucy." He'd come close to tripping again, I could tell.

So, he was a Telmarine, eh? This struck me as strange: after thirteen hundred years, what Telmarine would know the Narnians even existed, or would want to believe it? Why would they risk being charged with treason, being thrown in the dungeons or worse, just to get here and be ridiculed because of the place from which they came? Something didn't fit, but I couldn't just come out and—apparently, my mouth wasn't cooperating tonight.

"Why would...Why would you risk death to get here? Don't you have someone there waiting for you?" He went rigid again, and I deflated. Again, I had asked the wrong question; again, I had unintentionally hurt him. I prayed he knew it was an accident—they all were. Feeling awkward and guilty, I stared at the ground again and played with a few blades of grass. Suddenly, inspiration struck; this would help both of us! "Do you know why I was crying?"

Shocked that I might actually open up to a perfect stranger, someone who could potentially use such information to get me killed, his head shot up from its partially inclined position and his shoulders tensed; I couldn't see them, but I was sure his eyes were watching me in disbelief.

"No…L-Lucy." This was the last time; it would do no good to have him continually mess up my name, skirting around my title for the entire night. As it was, he already knew me, and he had been so kind…he deserved a chance to know the truth.

In the long run, it might help me as well… Grinning a little at the thought, I peered at the green sprouts for a couple moments more before glancing up to look into what I knew to be his eyes. I spoke calmly and slowly.

"I am Queen Lucy of Narnia; about that, you were right," I smiled warmly, and his shoulders eased. Somehow, I knew the expression in his eyes had only increased, and his face was coloring red; he realized had been found out almost as soon as he'd arrived. "As for why I was crying…you've probably heard the stories…" My mood changed drastically. I dipped my head and clutched a fistful of my dress for dear life as the guilt and tears threatened to crash down all over again. I tried to keep the brokenness out of my voice, and I succeeded, for the most part; for a split second, I thanked Aslan for allowing me to fight in battles by first being trained in emotional stealth.

"My friend in Telmar told me some of them, yes. I don't know all of them, but the ones I do…" He trailed off dreamily, gazing up at the small patch of stars visible through the treetops.

Watching him, I momentarily wondered if perhaps this 'friend' was different from the rest of the Telmarines, as the ones we had known in our time wouldn't have talked about Narnia's monarchs so admiringly. Then again, this was thirteen hundred years after our rule; they may have changed and become softer… Yet, by this teen's reaction to the conclusions to which I'd jumped after realizing he was from that people, I decided I had to be wrong; quite wrong, if his defensive voice and tense muscles had been anything by which to go.

"You must miss him…" I found myself saying suddenly, and I couldn't decipher by his face if he was offended or sorrowful; the shift of the leaves on the trees in the light wind didn't offer adequate moon and starlight to possibly see a shade of emotion on or glimpse of his visage. Maybe it was meant to be that way, I decided; perhaps this boy was meant only to be a mysterious help to me, rather than someone to recognize by name.

"Yes… All the time…" He replied so softly, and yet, it alarmed me. He hadn't spoken in a good many moments, and I'd presumed he wasn't going to answer at all. Smiling minutely, I peered at my folded hands in my lap. My siblings and I knew how such longing felt, even if it wasn't the same as wishing to be in your beloved land, a kingdom from which you'd unpremeditatedly uprooted yourselves.

"The stories…they were good ones?" I hoped with all my heart they were, but I unexplainably knew he'd heard the fated one, the one that meant the most to him, to me, though it hurt. He turned to me again, slowly, his eyes lingering on the stars for a moment longer. Laughing faintly, I could sense his smile in the darkness.

"Of course! You and the rest of your family were amazing rulers…incredible…" His voice was pensive once more, and I was glad he didn't seem to recall the one tale I thought for sure he'd know. Unfortunately, in the next second, his smile became gentler and full of sympathy, and my hopes were dashed as my heartbeat picked up speed and breaths became deep. "My friend said, one day, you and your siblings just…vanished, without a trace. It was so strange; I asked him about it a hundred times, and all he would do was shake his head and say, 'the Kings and Queens of Old would not wish their fate on anyone.' I never knew what he meant, but..." I could feel his eyes travel up my face and lock with my own blue orbs, and I felt undisguised, open, before him. "Then, I looked into your eyes."

A loud sob tore through me, and I didn't realize until this moment that hot, sticky tears speedily ran down my face and probably had been since he'd said, 'one day'. He cautiously crept closer to me, and I did not back away because I knew I could trust him by now. I met him halfway and buried my head into his surprisingly strong shoulder without hesitation, letting my tears fall without complaint in my grief.

His hand gradually reached up to tentatively stroke my hair, unsure if touching a Queen of his new home in such a manner was considered as it was in Telmar; he desperately hoped and thought not. There, if one was ever to touch a royal in any way without permission, even if it was an accidental bump on the shoulder as they passed, said person would be accused of assaulting one of regal rank, given no trial, and forced to work manual labor in the kingdom for six months or more, depending on the sovereign's mood.

"Your friend…" I choked, sobs breaking every sentence more than I would have liked. "Was not wrong…when he said…we wouldn't wish what h-happened to us…on another…" Getting this off my chest was one of the most painful things I'd ever had to do in my life, but I knew it would only mean being one step closer to healing for both us, in its own way. "We didn't mean it…we didn't mean to leave…! It was…" I paused here as my cries grew more insistent, and I wrapped my arms around the boy's well-muscled chest. Leaning the left side of his head on mine, he laid the arm not caressing my head lightly around my shoulders, only letting its real weight lay on them when I clutched his shirt in my hungry need for comfort. It was time to begin the hardest part.

"It was my fault…! I never meant to remember; I never wanted…to remember our old world…! I was being curious… The lamp-post… I recalled the…the wardrobe…from all those y-years ago… Suddenly, it was…like I remembered everything…and I wanted to know…what had happened to it… I ran…and Ed, Pete, and Su followed…"

Although I burrowed deeper into his chest, I was sure my sobs would wake the trees from their eternal sleep, that my family would come, and Peter would slaughter this poor, most likely very confused boy before he could defend himself; I wasn't making much sense, after all, and Peter more than likely wouldn't listen, with what his temper and overall attitude had been like for the past six months.

Shaking my head only a bit to clear it, I chastised inwardly: the bitterness I felt toward myself for my mistake was being wrongly directed toward my eldest brother, and I couldn't honestly say I blamed him for the way he'd been acting. It was because we left that he was so jumbled and angry all the time, and I was entirely at fault for that. Silently, in my heart of hearts, I prayed for Aslan to forgive me and spare my brother further pain, for it wasn't his to feel.

"Oh, I should have known…to stay away…! My mind should have…been free of such memories after fifteen years…! Peter and Susan…they look at me sometimes… They're vulnerable and broken…and I know it's because I didn't listen…when they called me back…or when Edmund grabbed…my hand and stepped in front of me…to protect me…from whatever we might find… I led them from our home…and we were all…miserable back in England… We hated it, but Ed…he and I hid it…better than our older brother and sister… We saw their weakness, but we…there was nothing we could do… We didn't know when we'd be back…"

The teenager of whom I'd made a dear friend put both arms around my shoulders now and rocked me gently, his Telmarine-Narnian voice not letting loose a single sound, simply having the night and his presence console me in my breakdown. Come to think of it, this was only my third breakdown of the year.

The first one had been at the professor's house, where Susan, Edmund, and Peter had comforted me; the second had been when I'd returned home from a friend's house to find my siblings had gone off in separate directions; this was my third, and I still hadn't totally gotten used to them, but it was good when I had someone to listen and tell me it would be all right, like I had the first time.

"But, you're here now, aren't you?" The youth's quiet, questioning, yet astonishingly urgent and wise voice brought me from my pondering. My head swam at his words, as well as my vision, and I leaned my head back into his chest after I had pulled it away to better hear his most recent words.

Closing my eyes, I mulled over his profound remark, and recognition struck quickly. I slowly brought my face from his chest to look up at him with wide eyes, and I was rendered to merely marvel at this boy-stranger I'd met only forty-five minutes ago. I'd never met someone so young, and yet, so incredibly insightful and compassionate before, except maybe my own siblings; he couldn't have been more than a year younger than Peter, but here he was, speaking just like him.

I found the strength to answer his question, though it was somewhat rhetorical.

"Yes. We are, but…" I was ashamed to have my tone sound fragile and scared as I bent my head in consideration of my inquisition. "What if we're just sent back? What if everything starts all over?"

He was silent for quite a time, and I eventually peered up at him to make sure he was all right. His head was tilted toward the stars again, as if he was counting how many he could see in the piece of sky open to us. Then, he turned his head to look at me, and I could feel the warmth of a heartfelt smile on his lips.

"'If that is your destiny, there is no way to change it.' That's another thing my friend never failed to tell me when I wished I could change the way my life was going. I didn't like the way his words held a sense of law to them; after all, I had always secretly believed we ruled our own destinies. Still, he was the person to help me escape, the sole one to risk himself for my sake, and he's probably in great danger as we speak because of it. But, I keep thinking that if he hadn't saved me, I wouldn't be here at all, I wouldn't have met the Narnians, and…" He trailed and turned his face away for a split second, and I knew he was blushing as his chest muscles tightened beneath me in embarrassment. He took a deep, calming breath and gazed at the crown of my inclined head steadily. "If I may, I wouldn't have met you, my Queen."

Blushing myself the slightest bit, I grinned just a little as the solid weight of guilt returned to my chest. The sad radiance in my eyes as I unhurriedly looked up at him was certainly enough to convince him of my next words, as I believed them myself and was certain the Narnians did as well.

"I'm not your Queen anymore. I haven't been for centuries…" Tucking a few, gentle fingers around my chin, he held my complete attention, and the regular puff of heated breath on my face stilled my nerves and building tears.

"The Narnians still see you and your siblings as their Kings and Queens, as do I." I couldn't be sure, but I swore I heard a tinge of longing during the Narnians' part of the speech. Why would he long for the Narnians when he had them, when he was one of them and evidently had been for a couple of weeks? Did he want something more? Was he…was he really in pursuit of them, of their capture like the other Telmarines?

As if sensing my thoughts, I felt his narrowed eyes as my own blue ones grew wide, and my face became a mask of fear; for all I knew, I could have been conversing with the head of the enemy for the past hour.

He carefully touched my hand with his fingers, the same ones that had grasped my chin, a feather-light touch that calmed me like almost nothing else ever had. Slowly flipping my hand, I intertwined our fingers and leaned back into his chest, closing my eyes and basking in his tender heat and the beat of his caring heart. Chuckling faintly, he, too, repositioned himself against a tree and carefully took me with him, proceeding to lean back with his arm around my shoulders, holding the opposite hand now. A contented smile erupted on my face, and I couldn't hold back the stream of warm, joyfully relieved tears as they coursed down my visage to soak my dress's skirt and pants.

The Narnians continued to see us as their Kings and Queens, no matter that we hadn't been around for thirteen hundred years. They still loved, cherished, and revered us above all and anyone else, save for Aslan. The feelings were genuinely and everlastingly reciprocated.

His adoring gaze finally was noticed after what must have been many minutes, and as I sheepishly snapped up my neck to peer at him, I felt a few more grateful tears drift from my eyes and a beam assume its rightful place below my nose.

"Thank you. You've given me hope for my siblings, for the Narnians, and for my quest. We are here, and I will not dwell on what might be or what I should have done. The past and future are left as they are, behind and before us, and what is and shall be done are unknown to anyone. That is how it shall stay." I felt the grace of his bright, proud smile, and his smooth voice greeted the air next.

"Would you like an escort back to your camp, Queen Lucy?" As he asked, he got to his feet and helped me to mine, grasping my hands between us and letting go of one for just a moment to wipe away the tears that had fallen.

"Lead the way, Friend of the Valiant Queen." He laughed out loud, muffling the barks behind his free hand, and I knew I hadn't heard a more euphoric sound in all the night. We walked silently the rest of the way back to my clearing, purely taken in by the insightful peace we found within each other.

Where the thick trees receded to form a large circle and outlines of sleeping bodies were detectable in the weak moonlight, I grinned at the sight of my easily recognizable siblings. Ed and Pete were on the far side, Trumpkin laid on the distant right, Susan…my smile grew as I thought of her…Susan was on the side opposite Edmund, and I was to sleep across from Peter.

That was how the order had always gone whenever we'd slept in the open during our rule, particularly during times of unease among surrounding countries; the girls were on the side estimated farthest away from the danger, while the boys faced it head-on. If somehow our adversaries discovered our "girls' protection plan", as our brothers affectionately called it, the Magnificent and Just Kings would throw themselves over us and wait to attack at the right moment; when that moment came, they'd fight hard and make sure Su and I stayed in between their backs, using their shields to cover us from the sides and relying on their skills as master swordsmen to avoid injury.

When all was clear, my sister and I would often be hugging each other and still fervently praying to Aslan to keep our brave, selfless brothers safe, eyes shut tightly, and we'd feel the sweaty, relieved bodies of the boys envelope us in protective, loving arms as beautiful smiles graced their tired lips. Our own smiles would break through, and the beaming, embracing mass would signify everything for which we stood: magnificently valiant, yet gentle justice.

Twisting around to face my night's savior, I smiled pleasantly, my shoulders relaxing as I exhaled tenderly. I sensed his facial reciprocation, a smile just as mine, and he knelt before me, still clasping one hand between us. Bright, milky moonlight glinted off his eyes for an instant as he went down, and though I couldn't decipher their color or expression, I saw a reflection of their owner's soul.

Lost in the vibrant, ever-changing hues of reds, oranges, blacks, blues, pinks, purples, and even colors I couldn't name, as well as the almost lightning-like flashes that occasionally crossed the kaleidoscope, I was truly inside my companion's essence for that one moment.

A hand touched my shoulder timidly, and another appendage gently, but firmly covered my mouth to stifle the shriek that reflexively shot from my throat. My wide, immensely frightened eyes flickered to the plum-shrouded face of my friend, the kind boy with whom I'd been conversing the night away, the boy who'd recognized my pattern of actions even after only an hour and a half of knowing each other. The hair that had risen on the back of my neck fell into place, my eyes shrunk to their normal size, and my hot, liberated breath came out in one, big rush as I calmed fully.

He removed his hand from my mouth and transferred it to barely cup my chin, and his unseen, yet known apologetic smile and eyes were the most comforting sight that could have met me. He didn't have to speak, or rather, was too afraid to do so, what with the legends of the protectiveness of my brothers most likely flitting around in his head; I already knew what he was saying.

I'll miss you. You've done more for me tonight than you know, no matter if you don't understand now. Meeting you has set everything into perspective, and I will use well what you have taught me. Everything's going to be all right, I promise you. I'll remember you…

Tears entered my eyes, sobs nearly burst from my throat, and the attempt at biting my lip to keep them from escaping and anyone from hearing was abandoned as I surrendered. I flung myself at him—wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I buried my face into his chest to smother my sobs; he enfolded his arms around me stalwartly, consoling me with his loving heart. At the same time, he absorbed and took to heart the messages my sobs revealed to him, just as I had his.

I'll miss you so much. I don't want to leave you. You've done something special for me tonight, grieving along with and comforting me; my brothers would be proud of you. All of the Narnians will accept you once they know you're there to stay: they'll see you as I do. I'll remember you, too…

Breathing deeply once, I lifted my head from his warm upper body as he removed his arms reluctantly, slowly, and I gave him a smile while he wiped way the rest of my tears with his gentle thumbs. He left one of his hands on my cheek, and the felt brilliance of his smile cast a peculiar effect on my heart; a cloud of mysterious sensation spun inside me, building a great power in my chest that, when at its peak, spread to my throat and made me breathe tensely, finally flowering upon my face in the form of an unparalleled smile, glittering eyes, and a new hope that compelled the hairs on the back of my neck to bristle in sheer rapture.

He leaned in suddenly, his voice so scarce in my ear there was barely any heat from his breath.

"Good night, and good luck." I couldn't reply, for by the time I registered the syllables' correct form, I glanced up to find him gone. My shoulders slumped, and I felt the stinging fire of tears at the back of my eyes, but I would not cry anymore; instead, I smiled for him, for the person he'd been in my time of need, and the fact that he would be in my heart always, regardless of whether we met again…though, I would much rather like to see him.

"Lucy!" I jumped for the millionth time that night as a hushed voice broke the quiet. I turned in the direction of my younger brother's voice and noticed the moonlight had chosen only now to brighten, as I could make out the majority of his form and the expression on his visage.

"Yes, Ed?" I whispered back just as softly, smiling warmly. A chuckle tickled my throat as I took in his protective appearance and glaring eyes…eyes glaring directly toward the woods and in front of me, where the boy had been standing just seconds ago.

I waited for my brother's usual, subsequent questions as my eyes automatically went to his hand, which expectedly traveled to rest on the hilt of the sword attached to his hip: his own sword, with which I knew he could do much damage.

"Who was that? Are you all right?" His gaze shifted back to me, and it only took an instant for his breath to hitch and his eyes to widen, his expression horrified one moment and murderous the next. "You've been crying, Lu! If he so much as—"

I was kneeling in front of him before he could finish his threat, my hands forcefully pressing down on his shoulders to get him back on the ground in a similar position to mine, as he had crazily flailed to stand not even halfway through his speech, sword ready to be drawn the minute he got his footing.

He scowled confusedly and stared at me, his dark eyes defiant, but willing to listen, knowing by now to trust my judgment above all else. His face lost its frown as he peered deeply into my eyes and visibly relaxed, expression compliant, yet still decidedly unsettled.

I'd removed my hands from his shoulders at the first signs of his renewed tranquility, and now I returned the intensely loving countenance he bestowed upon me. I reached forward and touched his sword hand tenderly with my own appendage, gently uncurling his paralyzed fingers; unbeknownst to him, he had not stopped clutching the handle of his master weapon, and his knuckles were white. I flipped his hand over and slowly began rubbing the feeling back into its five attachments, smiling lightheartedly all the while as I felt his much-older-than-his-eleven-years, ever-amorous gaze, recognizable from our days as younger King and Queen of Narnia, one that had become scant and sorely missed after our return to the skepticisms of England.

Taking his hand back after several minutes upon its feeling better, he flexed and stared at it, flicking his grateful eyes to me as he lowered it. He grinned adoringly, and my eyes widened as his own lit up with a well-known glint. I groaned quietly so as not as to wake our siblings and dwarf friend, rolling my eyes as well as my neck prior to looking at him exasperatedly.

"Ed! Please, don't!" I begged him even when I knew it was all for naught; I had been through this procedure enough times in the final ten years of our reign to know that there was no stopping Edmund when he was set on finding out everything possible about his sisters' potential husbands, even if Susan and I didn't consider them as such. His currently pointed, expectant look said as much.

Flopping onto the ground on my back noisily and with little to no grace, something Susan would have chided with a tiny, amused smile on her face, I grimaced as the wind was knocked out of me for a second. Edmund stared at me concernedly and kept doing so as he carefully assumed the same arrangement on the earth beside me, twisting onto his side and watching me intently until he saw my breath returning and maintaining a regular rhythm.

"Come on, Lu…" He smiled at me teasingly as his chin was upheld by his elbow-supported-palm, and he waited for me patiently, though I could still spy the smallest speck of protectiveness in his eyes and posture. Relenting, I sighed and chuckled softly, a grin of my own forming. However, the grin faded as I wondered how to go about explaining the situation in which I'd met the youth. I couldn't lie; Edmund always knew when any of us was lying...

"I…was crying and about to be sick when I ran away from camp a while ago…" I saw his questioning, worried gaze dart for my eyes to discover the reason for my tears, as my blue orbs had always been the windows to my soul, but I quickly averted them and looked to my hands instead, which had begun to nervously wring themselves without my notice. "I let myself go when I was a safe distance from all of you, and someone started comforting me. I turned around to find a young boy wearing a hood; he wasn't much older than Pete when he first came to Narnia," My brother's brows rose a bit in surprise. "Even though I never saw his face, he helped me through my inner battle, and somehow, I ended up aiding him, too. He gave me back some of the hope I'd lost since some words were said, and…" I didn't elaborate on my last sentence, and my youngest brother didn't demand anything of me. Instead, my voice turned wistful, and I brought my face up to peer at the boy-man, my eyes shining and features red in glee. "Oh, Edmund… he was so kind, and there was something about him… He felt…safe and steadfast, trustworthy, never mind that I didn't know him before tonight and don't know his name or face. But, Ed…he was a Telmarine!"

"Lucy—" He began protesting instantaneously, but I glared at him, and he silenced; even King Edmund the Just didn't stand a chance against the Valiant Queen's shudder-inspiring glower. He nodded, silently saying he'd allow me to finish.

"He's a Telmarine, yes, but he lives with the Narnians! He knew quite a few of the old stories, Ed; his friend, who helped him escape Telmar to get to our people—" I paused for a minute and smiled; I was only able to use that phrase comfortably again because of him… "—told him the tales, and that's how he knew to come here!" My excited nature was doused as I suddenly felt very sullen and hugged my knees to my chest, a black cloud gliding to hang over my head. "He knew my title, knew of all of us…but he was able to see through me…to the scared woman trapped in this body against my will…"

Ed moved to comfort me, but he halted as I stiffened. Out of the blue, the boy's words floated through my mind: But, you're here now, aren't you?

Immediately, I straightened up, my hands squeezing my legs and eyes hardening in determination in tribute to my friend, one whom I wasn't sure I'd ever see again. Looking to my anxious brother with this air, he was soothed, and he smiled somewhat understandingly, perceiving and knowing all too well what had caused my despair, but not quite comprehending what could have made me perk up so speedily.

There honestly was no explaining the connection between this boy and me; there was simply something there, and it drank me in deeper than most anything else in all of Narnia. It was special, unparalleled, and it hurt me to contemplate the possibility that it would only ever be experienced fully on this one night. Yet, as I angled my face to study the twinkling stars above, I beamed.

We were kindred, it seemed: kindred bodies, kindred minds, kindred hearts, kindred souls—

Kindred…

"No, stop!" I sprang out from behind the bush, frightening the two combatants into abruptly ending what would have been a bloody and deadly duel. Peter and the other figure turned to me instantly, my brother astonished that I'd actually stop him from killing someone who could easily have murdered him if given the chance, but I didn't glance back.

I hated bloodshed; I was a warrior queen, yes, or had been when I was more than a mere child, but I couldn't stand to see blood be spilt unless it was absolutely necessary. Here, it obviously wasn't.

"Peter!" Susan's frantic, powerful voice called out from somewhere behind us, and before I knew it, she, Edmund, and Trumpkin were lined up next to me, weapons drawn. They must have heard the commotion and awoken, rapidly coming to their senses and rushing to get to us in time. Luckily, they had indeed arrived ahead of anything more disastrous occurring.

However, it was not they with whom I was so concerned, but rather, the boy who had been fighting my eldest brother. He looked scared at seeing all of us together, almost like he recognized us, though that wasn't possible…was it? I scanned him: he was wearing an off-white tunic, dark gray-blue-green brigandine over it, deep gold-dyed trousers, brown boots…as well as a plum-colored cloak, the hood of which presently rested against his back…

My eyes widened and filled with tears, my breath catching so loudly in my throat that my brothers and sister looked away from their mutual assailant and toward me in worry. I stepped forward cautiously until I was beside the teenager, he staring down at me with terror-filled eyes, and I was about to continue my action chain when a small band of Narnians loudly made themselves known as they surrounded us, artillery ready in case of emergency.

The Narnians stopped, though, when they reviewed the situation, and their eyes finally landed on me; I had no dangerous weapon, and I was just a little girl to them, so they sheathed their own weaponry and waited to see what I was intending. When their eyes shifted to my siblings, the other three Kings and Queens of Old were shaken from the shock of seeing their dearly loved people reduced to such menial numbers and put away their arms in order to show that they, in turn, meant no ill will.

I cautiously reached up to feel the material of his tunic and the dark red-purple shroud hanging over his shoulders and falling down his back. They felt…familiar, just as I had anticipated.

I gently laid my hand on the one of his that held the hilt of Peter's sword and uncurled his fingers, just as I had for Edmund last night. Once the blade was free, I handed it to its rightful owner, smiling warmly at my brother as he gave me a questioning, protective stare. Nodding to show I knew what I was doing and privately thanking Aslan that he was finally listening to me after so long, I swiveled back around.

Gazing at him for numerous, endless seconds, I couldn't take anymore. With a cry and streaming tears, a smile conversely lighting up my face, I leaped for him, hugging him extremely tightly around the waist and crying joyfully into his chest. There were no sounds around us, or at least, none that I could hear; the only noise that met my ears was the resonant, beautifully cadenced heartbeat emitting from inside this boy's chest.

I felt a great breath leave him, and I pulled away, wondering if I'd gotten it wrong and this wasn't my previous night's liberator after all. But, it had to be him…! I knew it was!

His expression was one of shock and dawning comprehension, lasting for seemingly much longer than its minute, and I began to grow uncomfortable. My own breath vacated in relief, however, when his face broke into an incomparably ecstatic smile, his own eyes filling with salty droplets as he realized…

Taking hold of my waist with a joyful shout, he lifted me into the air and spun me around, both of us laughing gaily and our shining beams never deserting our faces. Upon feeling the ground beneath my feet once more, he knelt and caught me in his strong arms as I launched myself at him for the last time until further notice, weaving my arms around his neck as his own pulled me, his Queen, as close as he dared.

Nuzzling my face into his chest, I breathed deeply and exhaled blissfully, letting the last of my jovial tears slip from my eyes and onto his brigandine. I felt him loosen his grip, though he still held my shoulders, and move back a little to get a better view of me as I peered at him curiously. He only smiled tenderly, eyes shimmering in respect and unbound, profound affection, and it was then that I understood.

We didn't need to communicate with heard words—we had touches, looks, countenances…everything others didn't have to do the talking for us.

I grinned, and he returned it, signifying he had been blessed with the identical epiphany that had come to me last night.

We were forever kindred; in thought, deed, contact, expression, words—

Kindred.

A/N: I'm sure, for those of you who've seen the movie, you know by now the identity of the 'boy'. In the original draft, I had Prince Caspian introduce himself to Lucy in a gentle whisper in her ear as they hugged, but I couldn't find a spot in which it would work well. So, I left it out. Just for verification, the 'kindred spirit' with Lucy is Prince Caspian. I hope you enjoyed this!

Aunt Chris: Thank you SO much for taking the time to read this! It's means so much, and I really pray you like it! I'll answer any questions you have through email!