This is my first Narnia fanfic, so I welcome anything you think I can improve on. This was a random idea I had when I was poking around the Lucian community. I hope you like it, and I do admit, it's not really in the style I would have hoped.

Reviews are appreciated. Comments, concerns, questions.

Disclaimers: All of the Chronicles of Narnia belong to the brilliant C.S. Lewis.

Rating: High T for violence and gore.


Lucy hated that he would never truly see who she was on board the Dawn Treader. Yes, he saw her happy and carefree as she always was. He even saw glimpses of the Queen she once was when he had come to her and Edmund to ask advice about ruling a country. He had seen her fearful yet defiant when she was kidnapped by slavers.

But he had always viewed her as a child. He had only seen her cute freckles and her body that had not yet fully matured into a woman. He had seen her as a sister at best. Yet she had seen him as…

She shook her head to clear out the cobwebs as the man lunged towards her again. She moved fluidly, her sword an extension of her arm. Even as she ducked and weaved her enemy's blade, her mind was in all places at once. Peter had taught her one important thing. He had taught her to be alert, but he had taught her how to let her instincts take over. She wouldn't be able to fight unless she let go.

So Lucy let go. She let her instincts take over and her mind go blank. The man who was attacking her was beefy and ugly. He was hardly the best assassin. But he was a good sword master.

He thrust widely, trying to catch her in her side. She parried with the flat of her blade and put her weight into it. It was a mistake. It caused her to fall slightly off balance and the assassin took the best of it. He lunged and brought the blade down on her throat.

The man Lucy was protecting hissed from his spot on the bed. He would have finished the man off himself if he wasn't immobile, poisoned by the assassin. He was only alive because the brute had put an inadequate amount in his food and did not work properly.

The assassin had come to finish the job, yet he met an unexpected surprise.

Lucy just barely brought up her sword to block her foe's once more. He growled and Lucy bared her teeth back in defiance. He would not kill her or the King. She had not come all this way to die.

She kicked the man in the leg and brought down her blade heavily over his head. Distracted, he half heartedly deflected the blow. She took this opportunity. Faster than the assassin or the King could have imagined, she brought the blade back and thrust it into the assassin's torso with one savage blow.

The brutish man paused, his eyes widening. He looked down at his waist where the blood was seeping out. He met Lucy's eyes. She glared and pushed it in farther. It made a sickly sucking noise.

He grunted. Then his eyes rolled up into his head, but not before he gave Lucy a slightly appreciative look. He was proud that he would be killed by such a worthy opponent.

Lucy's arm trembled as she realized she was the only thing holding the man up. She withdrew the blade and the man fell to the floor. She sagged, her body tired. She had not fought like that in so long. In fact, she had never fought for her life with a sword before, because Peter and Edmund always had her with the archers.

"Lucy," came a hoarse voice from the bed.

She ripped her eyes off the body and met the confused and shocked eyes of the man before her. Only then did she notice the savage cut on her arm, or the fact she was covered in the dead man's blood. Only then did she realize that he had never seen her like this. She had never seen her savagely angry. He had never seen her fight. He had never seen how brave she could really and truly be. He had never seen her truly valiant.

She looked at him angrily. She had only come here because she once loved him. She had only come here because she knew she couldn't let Narnia without a leader. But why did she agree to come and save a man who had snubbed her?

Maybe it was because he had never seen this side of her and was never able to appreciate it. Maybe she hoped that he would stop seeing her as a child and finally as a woman. Under the blood and her loose tunic, she certainly looked like one now. Maybe she could show him what he had missed.

She swallowed, but her throat was dry. "Hullo Caspian."