He had pretty blue eyes and blonde hair, Lena thought. That is one thing this world had that the other did not: variety. Lena had seen men with blonde hair and blue eyes, red hair and sunspots, dark-skinned men, and men whiter than snow. In that other place, everyone looked like everyone else. And the language! There were so many languages to learn here; Lena loved it. However the men looked and no matter what language they spoke, Lena found that men were all the same at their core. They all wanted the same thing; they all thought the same way. And, as such, being blessed by beauty as she was, they were easily manipulated.

He leaned in for the kiss, breath soaked in alcohol and smoke. Lena allowed it to continue, but only for as long as necessary. Then she pulled back, cheeks flush with heat and eyes demure.

"*Monsieur, je suis désolé. I think this wine too strong. We forget ourselves."

He pulled back as well, an apology on his lips and eyes trained downward in shame. "Mademoiselle, ze fault is mine. A man should never forget 'is honor."

Honor. Lena hated the word. She had never met a man with honor, neither here nor there. "Perhaps in another world we will be in our right minds," she offered.

He lifted her hand to his lips and placed a sloppy wet kiss on her knuckles. "I will look for you in my dreams, 'zen."

"I will see you there." She leaned forward and left a pair of red lips on his cheek. She waited until he walked away before she slipped his watch into her clutch.

Men were easily distracted.

"I have a proposition for you."

But when they offered themselves up so easily, it was risky to pursue. There's no telling how much they had witnessed.

"I am not interested," Lena replied, not bothering to look over her shoulder. Instead, she looked through her bag for her pack of woodbines. She needed something to wash away the taste of Blue Eyes.

"You'll be interested in this."

Lena mentally rolled her eyes—a proper lady never truly does. She could tell this one was going to be one of those annoying, persistent, not-giving-up-until-I-get-a-kiss type of guy. Lena turned around to face him, a cigarette between her lips. She was ready to tell him to get lost, but she froze when she saw his face. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Nothing too distinguishing about his features, but Lena knew his face instantly. It had been years since she last saw it, and she only saw it for a moment but she knew his face. What's more, he knew she recognized him; the smugness was in his eyes.

"I'm not interested in any proposition of yours, Little King," she spat.

"You haven't even heard it yet." He stood with an arrogant, unabashed, easy smile like he somehow knew she'd accept his offer.

"It doesn't matter. I'm not interested." Lena turned to make her way back inside the bar. She no longer had an interest in her cigarette. Now, all she wanted to do was get as far away from this little king as she could.

"I say," he called after her. "We go together to return that new watch of yours to the police like good, honest citizens, I forget I ever saw you take it, and then you let me buy you dinner while I share my proposition with you."

Every muscle in Lena's body froze. *Merda, she thought. Of course, he saw her take the watch. Shame too. It would have fetched about a hundred francs. Lena pulled the watch from her clutch and marched over to him.

"Take the watch yourself, if you wish," she said, her accent thick, as she slammed the watch in his hands. "But I am done satisfying the whims of kings."

Lena's head ached with a low, throbbing hum that had taken over her mind. It wasn't unlike waking from a long induced drug haze, and she knew too well what that was like. Her head hurt too much to open her eyes just yet; so, she continued to lay where she was.

She heard voices. Low, indistinguishable voices. The longer she listened though, the more the voices seemed to separate in her mind. Some were near. Some were distant. Some had strange undertones to them. There was one, however, she knew better than her own voice. Meri was near and talking rampantly.

Meri wasn't like Lena. Meri hadn't met a stranger who wasn't instantly a friend. Meri still retained her child-like innocence, even at sixteen. Meri saw the beauty in everyone and in everything. Meri was what Lena wished she could have been at Meri's age.

Meri didn't yet know the pains that came with trusting the wrong person.

There was something sharp poking Lena in the face. She lifted her leaden arm to brush away the annoyance. The curious object was sharp but pliable. Lena slowly blinked an eye open to see what it was exactly. Hay.

Hay? Why was she laying on a bed of hay?

Lena noticed the steady rock of the bed and the groan of wheels turning beneath her. All at once everything came rushing back to her. Waking in a strange forest. Finding herself surrounded by those beasts. Peter acting as though he didn't know her. Her daughters rushing forward as she lost consciousness.

Her daughters!

Lena sat up in a flash, too quickly as her surroundings blurred around her in an attempt to catch up. Lena clutched at her head to stave off the dizziness before looking around for her daughters. Sara was lying next to her, fast asleep with a serene look on her face. Meri was at the far end of the cart next to an oversized cheetah; its golden eyes were trained on her.

"Mamma. You're awake!"

Lena spoke quickly and urgently in Italian. "Meri, get away from that thing."

"Mamma." Meri frowned. "Don't be rude." Meri spoke in English.

"Now, Meri. Do not make me say it again. That thing isn't to be trusted."

"Thing? Mamma, his name is Sir Jagar and he is a Knight of the Table and Royal Guard to Uncle Peter."

"It is impolite to speak of others in a language they cannot understand," Sir Jagar said. "And you were previously asked to speak only in our common tongue."

Lena looked pointedly at the cheetah and said, "If I wanted you to know what we were saying I would have meowed." She spoke in Italian still, but her intent was clear enough.

Jagar growled and pinned his ears flat to his head.

"Mamma!" Meri exclaimed. "I'm sorry, Sir Jagar. It would seem my mother is not being herself today. She isn't usually this impertinent."

"Meri, move. Now."

Meri huffed and rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, Sir Jagar,but if you'll excuse me for a moment. We'll have to finish this conversation later."

Meri wasn't much like Lena at all. Meri was open and honest with her feelings, often wearing them for all to see. The only person who ever truly knew what was going through Lena's head was Little King, and he often knew before she did.

Meri crawled across the bed of hay to sit in the corner as far away from Lena as Lena would allow. She sat with her arms folded over her chest and her obvious disappointment etched on her face.

"Mamma?"

The movement had aroused Sara. She sat up, brown curls askew and hay lines imprinted on her face. Lena smiled and motioned her forward.

"Vieni, Topa."

Sara crawled into her mother's arms.

"Be careful, Sara." Meri winced as Sara dug her elbow into Lena's leg.

"*Sto bene," Lena said with a slight grimace.

Meri looked at her mother with skepticism. She had heard those same words muttered from her mother's lips just before the haze of sleep came over her.

Meri may not have been like Lena, their difference in views often led to arguments and heated words, but with one look between mother and daughter, all was forgiven. Lena opened her arm and Meri crawled over.

"I know you don't want to be here, Mamma. And I'm sorry. Maybe Babbo can sort this all out for us."

Lena didn't want to say it, but a sinking feeling told her that Babbo's reaction would be very similar to Peter's.

This one was more difficult. A simple kiss wasn't enough; that should have been the first sign, and perhaps it was but Lena ignored it. This one required a brush of the hand here, a taste of skin there. It took more work and more patience, but as usual, Lena got what she wanted in the end.

She pulled back. "Monsieur, je suis désolé. I think this wine too strong; we forget ourselves."

"Mademoiselle," he grinned. "'Zere is no need for false modestie." He grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward as his lips crashed into hers again.

Ugh. He was one of them, she thought. Before Lena could take action against him herself, someone else intervened.

"Monsieur, I believe you dropped this."

Really? Did he not know when to quit?

Monsieur Whatever-his-name-was looked over his shoulder at the little king. "Wait your turn; 'zere will be enough to go around." He leaned towards Lena seeking a continuation of their activities.

Little King didn't like that. He grabbed the monsieur's shoulder and pulled him off of Lena. With one quick strike, he had him lying on the ground with a bloody nose.

"She said no," Little King said. "Now, I suggest you gather what's left of your little pride and leave, unless you'd like me to break something else."

Monsieur Whatever-his-name-was threw out a few colorful insults at both Lena and Little King before stumbling away.

"*Ma, che sei grullo!" Lena said. "Are you following me now?"

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice," Little King said incredulously.

"I had it well in hand. Do you think he was the first to take liberties with me? He wasn't, and he certainly won't be the last I'm sure."

"I was just trying to help."

"You can help by leaving me alone."

"There's an easier way to do this," he called after her as she tried walking away. "You don't have to go it alone."

"I already told you, Little King; I'm not interested in being anything of yours."

For the remainder of the ride, the Cheetah was silent but alert. Lena was sure that he was taking notes on her and her daughters to report on later. Lena was familiar with the tactic, and thus tried to remain silent as well. This led to her thoughts constantly drifting from one memory to another. Unfortunately, they weren't always pleasant memories. The longer she was in Narnia, the more she remembered of her own time in Narnia.

"Daughters of Eve," the Cheetah said, rising to his feet. The excitement in his eyes was unparalleled. "Welcome to Cair Paravel."

Meri and Sara crawled to the side of the cart. They gasped and squealed as their faces lit up with joy. A bright, shining castle with spirals that glistened in the sun rose against the background of a cloudless blue sky. As the excitement of being back home spread among the whole party, Lena felt her heart sink.

They rode into the city among a cacophony of brays, neighs, and shouts. There were creatures of all manner crowding the street and slowing their progression. Lena could hear the call of friends greeting each other and of families reuniting. Lena also heard the whispers and questions as they caught sight of her and her daughters riding in the cart under the watchful eye of Sir Jagar.

The cart finally came to a stop on a gravel drive. The Cheetah turned to them again. "Remain where you are. The High King will be here shortly to attend to you."

Lena didn't mind waiting. It gave the other Narnians a chance to disperse to their dens or their stables, or wherever it was they typically dispersed to. So long as they weren't around her, Lena didn't really care where they went.

"Ah, good, you're awake," Peter said as he came around the cart with a woman at his side.

At first glance, the woman looked human enough clothed in a brown dress but then Lena noticed that it wasn't a dress. It was her skin, brown like tree-bark with ivy wrapping around her legs and arms. Her leafy hair drifted in a breeze that didn't currently didn't exist.

"You're a...a Dryad, aren't you?" Meri asked.

The woman smiled and nodded.

"You're pretty," Sara added.

"Thank you, Little Daughter." Her voice was like the whispering wind.

"This is Willa, the court's finest healer," Peter said.

"His Majesty is too kind. I do what I can to aid the healing, but Aslan does all the work."

"Willa! Of course!" Meri explained. "I'm Meri. This is my sister Sara, and this is our Mother Ileana but most everyone calls her Lena. Babbo's told us all about you, but he didn't rightfully capture your beauty."

"I don't need a Healer," Lena said, her tone flat and to the point as she kept her focus on Peter and not the Dryad standing next to him.

"With all respect, my Lady, but you fainted earlier. I would be remiss in my duties if I failed to see to your well-being." Peter's tone, on the other hand, was rigid with a warning.

Lena knew her mannerisms were being perceived as rude, but she couldn't help it. She forced herself to smile; though, it wasn't half as strong as she used to do. "Shock," she said. "I was suffering from an acute act of shock. Were you not also shocked when you first found yourself in a strange world far from home?"

Peter returned Lena's tight smile. "My apologies, Lady Willa, but it appears we will not be needing your healing services today after all."

"All the merrier then, Your Majesty. You know where to find me. It was a pleasure to meet you, Daughters of Eve." With that, the Dryad twirled away and floated off as nothing more than a bunch of leaves caught in a wind. Lena gave a faint shiver.

"Peter!" A familiar voice called out and Peter turned towards the newcomer with joy.

"Susan!"

While the duo embraced in a familial hug, Lena and the girls slowly climbed out of the cart. Lena expected to feel some stiffness in her bones after sitting for so long, but she found none. Perhaps she really didn't need a healer after all.

"Aunt Suzie!" Sara cried out as she ran forward and latched onto Susan's dress.

"Oh! Hello, little one," Susan replied. Her voice was kind enough but it still lacked the familiar tone.

A part of Lena had hoped that what Meri off-handedly suggested might be true. That for whatever reason, Peter was simply jesting around with them. She'd hoped that Susan, being of sound mind and reason, would respond differently to their presence. She had hoped for some small look of recognition.

She found none.

Susan knew them no more than Peter did.

"Sara, *smettila; come back here." Lena took Sara's hand and pulled her back to her side. "I'm sorry; she gets a little excited sometimes."

"That's all right. No harm has been done," Susan replied.

There was a stretch of silence as Susan smiled at Lena while Lena looked between her and Peter before her eyes fell to her daughters at her side.

"Mamma? What's going on?" Meri asked. Then in Italian she continued with, "Why do they act as though they don't know us?"

Lena could not answer her. So, Meri turned back to Peter and Susan. "You do know us, don't you? You recognize us? Aunt Suzie? Uncle Peter?"

Susan shared a brief look with Peter before replying. "This is baffling to us all. Why don't we move inside where you can tell us your story over a hot meal?"

"And, perhaps, some strong ale," Peter added.

Monsieur, je suis désolé : Sir, I'm sorry (French)

Merda: shit

Sto Bene: I'm fine

Ma, che sei grullo: But, how stupid are you

Smettila: stop it