Awaiting Redemption

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Meanwhile, back in Narnia...
Third Person P.O.V.

Telmarines and Narnians alike gathered in the courtyard to bid the sons of Adam and daughters of Eve farewell. As the last Pevensie stepped through the gap between the trees, Aslan let out a roar that shook the leaves of trees far and near. Moments later, a surreal portal opened up a mere ten feet off the ground, and a chorus of 'ooh's and 'ahh's could be heard.

Thud.

Every citizen present jumped back from shock as a girl dropped out of the hole and landed rather ungracefully on the floor. She lay there for a few minutes, as if she were frozen. Then, slowly, she stood up and took a good look at the stunned crowd.

"Andrea," Aslan began. Her eyes widened and as she went to turn around, her eyes caught those of a decent looking young man's. She quickly found her blue eyes wandering to the sword he still held in his hands.

"That's Peter's," she spoke, as if not expecting a response. She finally turned to Aslan, hope present in her eyes, "Is he here?"

Aslan simply turned his head to the trees, and as if on cue, they began to intertwine once again. Somehow, she understood.

"NO!" she screamed, and ran to the trees, who were nearly done becoming one. "Peter!"

She continued to scream for High King Peter with newfound desperation. She fell to her knees as the doorway the trees once created began to shrink, and finally, was gone. Defeated, she stood once more, and took her position as a respected historical Narnian figure, as everyone had assumed she must have been.

Slowly, she made her way back to stand in front of Aslan, and as everyone is required to do, she knelt down. Immediately, it became noticeable that her knees were touching the floor, and that she was not curtsying.

"It isn't fit for a young lady to bow," muttered a red-headed Dwarf.

Back to First Person P.O.V. (aka Andrea's View of Things)

I quirked an eyebrow and looked his way. He was hardly up to half my height and spoke with mild arrogance.

"And it is fit for men to curtsy?" I responded, feigning interest.

He looked confused, but responded nonetheless. "No. It is fit for men to bow and ladies to curtsy."

I sighed. "So what other duties are specifically for men only, and others are set aside for women, too? Surely, men can cook and dance while women fight for their homeland, yes? What is your name?"

"I am Trumpkin."

I smiled warmly, and replied, "Andrea. It's a pleasure meeting you."

He seemed surprised as I greeted him as friendly as I could just moments after questioning his views on women status.

"To answer your question, Miss Andrea," came a voice from the other side of me, "women tend to perform better in the kitchen than on the battlefield."

I turned and was faced with the same boy who was still fondling Peter's sword. I merely scoffed, "I'm pretty sure I can prove that otherwise, Mr.," I spoke, trailing off near the end.

"Caspian the Tenth. Prince Caspian, and now the King of Narnia."

I narrowed my eyes and nodded at the sword in his hands.

"So, what does that make Peter?"

"Peter is no longer part of this world..." he attempted to squeeze his words around my defensive side of Peter, but I jumped in before he could finish his sentence.

"Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia. IL Duello, Prince Caspian."

Peter's P.O.V.

Susan, feeling heartbroken, stepped into the trees with me following her. Seconds later, we were in London on our way to school.

We were about to board the train when I heard the yelling. It came from the direction of Narnia, or what we had last seen of it anyway. The voice sounded strangely familiar.

"Peter!"

I rushed towards the voice, hoping to fight for Narnia one last time. The calls became more desperate and the last thing I thought before I ran straight into the platform wall was a simple name...

Andrea?