A/N: Phew, finally! The long awaited sequel to Can't Take It In is here! It was a long, difficult process full of stops, pitfalls, writers block and a nasty muse war between the old muses that started this story with the ending and the the new muses that were all hip and current that evolved as I wrote the middle. The muses that dictated the beginning, which were around before the original ending was written, just sat around and watched with amusement. They already knew what was going to happen. I have to thank my awesome, long-suffering beta Holly for being awesome and excited and making my writing sound better. Holly, I don't know if you even like editing, but you do a great job of it. Dear readers, I hope you enjoy my brainchild and tell me your thoughts. I also hope you're not disappointed with how it turned out. I was originally going to give Serafina's back-story in this piece, but the muse war kinda got in the way of that. The winners wanted to save the serious stuff for the next piece, so that's what I did. Actually, I don't think they want any serious stuff, but for the sake of plot there has to be some. I know the over arcing plot of all the stories, but not the specific plot for the next piece. So, once I figure that out, I will write like mad. I might post a poll at some point to see what you, the readers, want to see. If you have any ideas, tell me, either in a review or PM. I'd love to know what you're thinking. I'm thinking Lucy meeting Serafina. Later, much later, Serafina will meet all of the Pevensies. But that's a much later story.

Also, for new readers, you may want to go back and read the prequel to this, Can't Take it In, before journeying forward. This story will be more satisfying if you read Can't Take it In first. But if you don't feel like it, this story should still provide some amusement and make some sense.

OH, one last thing. The title is from the song of the same name from the Prince Caspian soundtrack. I was listening to it when I was originally inspired for this piece. I imagine it as the waltz song at the end, so you may want to listen to that.

1/20/12: Oh look, I posted a poll about the next piece. Go vote in it. Now.

DISCLAIMER: Oh hey, look at that, I don't own Narnia. I do own Serafina.

0o0o0o0

'A beautiful woman in a flowing red dress was bent down picking a white flower. As she rose, smelling the flower, a dark-haired little boy ran toward her. When he reached her, his arms raised imploringly, she lifted him up, laughing, and spun him in a circle. She looked at Edmund and smiled sweetly—'

"Edmund! Wake up!

Edmund woke but didn't open his eyes, savoring his dream. Lucy came in and sat on the edge of his bed, leaning over him to see if he was awake. "Ed, are you awake?"

Edmund sighed. "Yes Lu, I'm awake."

Lucy hopped off the bed and went to leave, satisfied. "And hurry up, Mum and Peter have to leave soon."

Ed yawned and sat up, opening his eyes. He looked out at the dawn, the early light so similar to the light in his dream, and smiled to himself. Then, he stood, stretched, and got ready to see his mother and brother off at the train station.

0o0o0o0

"Now, are you sure you'll be alright?" Mrs. Pevensie asked her younger son worriedly.

"Yes, mum. I'll take good care of Lucy. I'll miss you. Give my love to dad and Susan." Ed hugged his mother tightly. As Lucy took her turn, Peter pulled Ed into a rough embrace.

"Be good," Peter growled into his younger brother's ear. "No getting into trouble." Ed pulled back with a wolfish grin. "Trouble? Me?"

As Peter gave Lucy a bear hug, the train whistle sounded. "We'd better get going," Mrs. Pevensie said briskly.

Ed and Lucy watched the train pull away. As the steam cleared, Ed saw her and his breath caught in his throat. Standing across the tracks on the platform, blue dress flowing and blonde hair curling, was Serafina. She was laughing at the children playing, and as she lifted her head, her eyes locked on Edmund and Lucy. Lifting her hand, bracelets jangling together, she waved.

Edmund was stuck. His mouth fixed in a smile, his eyes locked on Serafina. He slowly lifted his hand in return.

Seeing his movement, Lucy followed his line of sight. "Ed, who is that? Ed? Edmund? Edmund!" Edmund was released from the spell as the next train steamed into the station, blocking his view. Blinking, he turned to look at Lucy. "Someone."

"Someone? Just someone?" Lucy asked, slightly incredulously.

"My someone," he replied.

Lucy smiled smugly. "Oh, so you have a someone now?"

"Yes. No. Maybe, I don— It's all—None of your business, that's what. C'mon." And with that, the two siblings walked out of the station.

0o0o0o0

"A letter for you Edmund!" called Lucy, coming in the front door a few days later.

"Who from?" he shouted back from the kitchen, where he was attempting to cook.

"Old London Library! Says you have a few books overdue. Very overdue," Lucy replied as she walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

Edmund rubbed his hand across his eyes. "Oh no, those are the books I left at the pub the night I..." he trailed off, not looking at Lucy.

But Lucy was not so easily derailed. "The night you..." she prompted.

Edmund looked up at her with wide eyes, his face frozen, thinking fast. "Got distracted," he finished. "You know how easily distracted I am."

"No, I don't think I do. The Ed I know has a one-track mind, very centrally focused. Especially on those precious books of yours. So, what, oh what, could ever have distracted you?"

Edmund looked at her with a very still face before he announced gravely, "Things. Now, I am off to the library to grovel until the Head Librarian decides not to ban me for life."

0o0o0o0

"I like you Edmund, which is why I let you take manuscripts out of the library, but really! You left them at a pub!"

Edmund leaned his forehead into his hand guiltily. "I know. I really do. I am so sorry, I just—." He sighed.

The head librarian sighed, looking at his young charge. "Well, I just don't know what we are going to do." He turned and clucked.

"Well, for a start, Edmund could help me put away those manuscripts he misplaced," a voice said from behind them.

Ed shot straight up and turned on his heels, his legs twisting together. "You!"

Serafina struck a pose and smiled. "Me. They're all accounted for and in fine condition. I've already entered them into the catalog." She smiled again, this time at the head librarian's flustered look.

"How did you get into the catalog?" The head librarian's face blistered with sweat and anxiety. "You're not supposed to have access to those!"

She walked forward into the room and turned, leaning against the table with a look in her eyes. "Come on, professor. I've done you a favor. So smile." She crooked her finger at Edmund and sashayed out of the room. "Coming, Ed?"

Edmund shook himself out of his stupor and followed her, of course.

0o0o0o0

They walked through rooms of books to the old catacombs where the ancient scrolls and manuscripts were stored. There were old maps that showed the outlands- "Here there be dragons!"- found in ancient chests; illuminated manuscripts gifted to the Library when a French monastery closed down due to the discovery that the monks there kept the more erotic Ovid (1) poems under their cots; said Ovid manuscripts, a more valuable discovery than the illuminated manuscripts; a well loved copy of Beowulf, complete with stylized doodles of dragons, swords, and drunk Vikings; and in a dusty corner, mostly overlooked, a manuscript recounting the tales of the Snowwalkers, the witch Gudrun and her defeat by her son Kari (2). This last had been a favorite of the young scholars who tried to escape their masters by lingering in the catacombs until the sun had slipped away without their notice.

It was to this room that the manuscripts were returned, slid delicately into place by Serafina while Edmund held the rest. He watched her movements in the candle and torchlight (the Library refused to add electrical lighting in the manuscript room lest it harm their ancient documents), tracing the path her arms took with his eyes, all the way up to her shoulders and finally, her face.

Finally his arms were empty, save for the Latin and Greek dictionary he had borrowed for reference. Serafina slipped the volume out of his arms, and skimmed it as she bounced away.

"Coming?" She said, looking back.

He followed her, his hands in his pockets, smiling to himself. "Learning anything?" he asked, catching up to her. "Not much," she replied nonchalantly, grinning.

She bounced on her toes to the Tower shelves. The Tower shelves were located in the top round tower room, a room lined with tall shelves and cluttered with odds and ends, like busts of dead people no one cared about, globes, telescopes, artifacts, embroidered pillows embroidered with crowns and rings and topped with elaborate, impossible necklaces. Best of all, a life size, realistic model of a zebra, which over the years had been bedecked with feather boas, scarves, a pair of glasses, a paper mache crown, and a spangled cloak.

"If you want a really good Classics reference dictionary you should try Elpsom's. Daft old man, really, but he was fluent in ancient Greek and classical Latin. Fluent, can you believe that?" She drew him further into the room with a swish of her hair, which today was mostly down, the very top drawn back and clipped. She wore a red dress that had sleeves to her elbows, with skirts that fell to her ankles and had small beads around the hem that kept catching Ed's eye distractingly. She went straight to a shelf with a very conspicuous empty space, but even while standing up on a helmet, she couldn't quite reach it. Seeing she was having some trouble, Edmund moved forward, placed his hands on her waist, and lifted her up. She slid the volume in easily and slid down with a smile.

She danced around the room, looking at all the artifacts and trying not to fall over the odds and ends littering the floor. Edmund stood watching her, amused, with his hands in his pockets. She was balancing, one-footed, on her tiptoes, a crown in her fingertips, when she tripped on a sword handle and she fell backward. The crown went flying and Edmund rushed forward to catch Serafina. Unfortunately, his foot caught on the edge of a Persian rug and the two landed in a heap, her partially on top of him, the crown landing perfectly on Edmund's head.

Ed looked at Serafina with wide eyes. Two seconds later they burst out laughing.

"Nice one, lady. I don't think my head will ever recover," Ed said sarcastically. Serafina, still shaking off laughter, said, "Oh, I think it suits you." She lifted herself off of him, kneeled on the Persian rug and straightened out the ancient crown, which was tarnished and missing many of the jewels that formerly adorned it.

Suddenly, her face lit up with an idea. She tugged Edmund off the ground and rushed about, grabbing up this and that. She found a black velvet cloak and threw it around Edmund's shoulders, taking another cloak, this one a rich purple, for herself. She bedecked herself with necklaces and rings while Edmund looked on apprehensively. "Are you sure we should be touching this stuff?"

Serafina wasn't worried. "They put this stuff in the Tower Rooms, I'm sure they weren't expecting anyone to ever see it again," she said, lobbing what looked like a valuable clock over her shoulder. Then she grabbed the sword she tripped on and took a crown for herself, resting it on her head delicately. Finally, she turned to face Edmund. "Please kneel, my good sir," she said in a mock "proper voice".

Ed, with eyes that made no judgments yet, did as she said, kneeling in front of her. She brought the sword up, resting it on each of his shoulders. "You may rise, Lord Edmund of the Musty Books." He smiled faintly, and stood up. This coronation was very different than his last. "My good lady," he intoned, offering her his arm. She took it, throwing the sword away without looking at it. He led her a few steps forward before letting her go and bowing. "Shall we dance?" He asked. Serafina curtsied deeply, taking his outstretched hand. He drew her into a sloppy dance pose and led them in circles, tripping over rugs and books and other things. Laughing, Serafina caught her ankle around Edmund's. For the second time that day, the pair ended up on the floor.

Edmund rolled over and propped himself up on one hand, looking at the giggling girl lying next to him. "I normally am a much better dancer."

"Oh, really?" she asked disbelievingly.

"Mmhm, oh yeah. All the girls wanted to dance with me. Saw some pretty bad catfights in my day," he replied smirking.

She smiled teasingly. "Did you?"

Ed smiled back, pushing his forehead into hers. "Oh yeah."

Serafina stood and moved over to the old record player by the window. She cranked it a few times and it began to play a slow, waltzy song. Then, she turned to face Edmund. "Well then, my Lord. Show me."

Edmund stood slowly and walked over to her. He bowed to her and held out his hand. "May I ask your Ladyship for a dance?"

She curtsied and took his hand. "You may." They settled into a proper stance for a waltz and started to move in circles around the floor. He was a strong lead, she thought, unlike many of her former dance partners. He definitely knew what he was doing.

Around tables and lamps, avoiding the dips and bumps in the uneven floor, the pair danced.

"You are very good at this," Serafina whispered to Edmund's collarbone, unable to look up at his face.

Edmund swallowed thickly, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "So are you."

Unable and unwilling to break the spell, they danced in the glow of the sunset until the old record player wound down.

0o0o0o0

Well, finally over! I hope you enjoyed, and I hope you review and tell me what you think. SMILES! -CYI

1. Ovid was a Roman writer and poet who lived from 43 B.C. to 17 or 18 A.D. He single-handedly ended the golden age of writing in Rome established by Augustus. (Augustus put the most talented artists, sculptors, writers, ect. onto his payroll, which let them do their art without worrying how to pay the bills). After Ovid offended a lot of people, he was banished to the middle of nowhere and subjected to the most terrible of evils-a place with no libraries! (Also known as Romania). Like many ancient writers, much of his work was destroyed during the dark ages. Most of his more 'steamy' works we have only because they were saved by monks who hid them under their cots. Hehe. Cheeky monks. (Random aside: there are some lines of ancient writers works that we just don't have, because there isn't any copy where that line is legible. Like line 546 in the story of Daphne and Apollo in Ovid's Metamorphosis. I'm in the middle of my Latin translation, numbering my lines, and all of a sudden, I think, "Where did line 546 go?" I sat there matching my paper to the textbook for 5 minutes before asking my teacher. End random aside.)

2. basic plot of The Snow-Walker by Catherine Fisher.