You came home.. but it wasn't home anymore.

When they returned home... after everything, it had been like entering a foreign world. They had to relearn how to speak, how to act, how to fight. There was no comfort, no sense of the familiar. Everything was foreign and everyone looked too similar (but too different).

Their lives didn't disappear in a flash and their youth return. No their minds remained as they were. Who could expect 15 years of growth to unwind by walking through a door?

15 years older they were and it could not be left behind in this new (but old) and alien world.

They would never call England their homeland again. Never theirs.

London in the war was far removed from Narnia at war. The fear, the oppressive atmosphere it was all so familiar but so different. In Narnia there was action, planning, nervous anticipation but in England they waited.. and waited.

It was hard to remember that this body hadn't fought any battles.

He had gone from adult to child, from warrior to civilian, from King to.. to... this.

He felt helpless, useless and as time passed it only got worse.

How did one fight in a war when they were thought to be a child?

You didn't.

He was suddenly restricted beyond what he had ever felt. If they had been in Narnia he would have been making battle plans and readying the army but he couldn't do that here, England wasn't his country, and they weren't his army to command..

You used to rule all that you saw.. but now..

Here he was just another adolescent.

He couldn't adjust, he couldn't make himself into what he once was. He couldn't make himself into something he wasn't.. not anymore anyway. This Peter was different to the one he had grown into and he found that the High King no longer fit into this body like it once did.

He forgot himself often. He found himself spilling out, overstepping the bounds of brother and son and moving into the realm of King, of Warrior. He took command as often as not and if it wasn't for his siblings obeying him without question (they couldn't shake their new selves either) his mother might have said something. As it was she merely stood by perplexed at these strange people that had taken residence in her children's bodies.

He had over-heard her talking about him once to their elderly neighbors and it had made him realize that he appeared as different to them as he did to himself. 'I hardly know what to do with them anymore. It's like they don't need me.. they've grown up or at least Peter has and they follow him like he was their leader... You should see him Marge.. It's like.. I mean he's.. Magnificent.'

High King Peter the magnificent.

He didn't feel magnificent, these days he found it hard to feel anything but out of place.

School no longer held interest for him, he was years ahead of his pears (he used that term loosely) and the concerns of those children seemed like a far distant memory. He had grown out of them years ago after all.

So Peter turned to what he knew, his siblings and swords.

There was an old shop in Finchley, filled with dust and old books and worn out furniture. It was there that Peter found an old piece of himself. There amongst the battered furniture and old tomes was a line of rusted weaponry.

A sword, sound and sharp, with a lion engraved in the hilt. It wasn't red and it wasn't magical and it wasn't his but it was as close as he would ever come.

With it he found two short swords, they weren't as nicely wrought nor were they the length that he was accustomed to but Peter was sure that with his younger body returned they would suit Edmund just fine.

He worked for a month at the old shop, using all his spare time to work up enough to pay for them. The others didn't understand what he was doing, why he was ignoring them until he came home one evening with a triumphant grin and placed them on the dinner table.

Their mother looked on in horror as they all crowded around the blades but they gave it no mind. Peter had found something and he was their king and they were grateful.

It took them a while to get the hang of their old bodies again but they managed and soon they were sparring again and it almost felt like they were there again. Almost.

It was only a month later that a hand crafted bow joined them at the dinner table, this one much more Narnian in appearance, Peter had made sure of it.

Wood craft had been a hobby of his, calming him after stressful meetings and keeping him busy in peace times. He had become quite good at it over the years and he used all that experience again while making a new bow for the gentle queen.

The battle with the witch was etched in pictures along the wood and a lion stood proudly in the center. It was not the bow but it would do. It had done his heart good to make such designs again and a matching dagger soon found its way to Lucy.

The neighborhood was unsure what to make of the newly returned Pevensie children, the simple truth was they didn't act like children.

Most of the adults found them charming, if a little odd with their often strange speech and old fashioned manner. Though some did take offence to the way they held themselves and acted as though they were equal rather than the adolescents they were.

No one dared say anything though because where there was one there was all and that meant that there was Peter.

He couldn't shake off twenty years of growth, of kingship, so he walked with the same strength, the same air of command as he did when walking through Cair Paravel. One might, just from looking at him, believe that he ruled all that he saw and though his body was as before Narnia still hung about him and there was no denying that he was a warrior still.

So the adults let them be, the same however was not so for the children. Children while young and innocent, have a unique kind of cruelty.

They were teased and bullied and the few friends they had before rejected them, altered as they were. They no longer wished to do the things that young children did. Board games and toys held no appeal and who would wish to act out make believe when you were once living it for real?

There came a time however, shortly after their return to England, they had not been returned for more than six months, when things began to change. Subtle at first, for England was not Narnia and the air held no magic, but growing in strength.

Practicing in the yard with Edmund despite their mother's protests, their bodies began to keep up and at first they thought they were remembering their old limbs (which in part was true). But then one day they came across some boys (older than them but still boys in their eyes) that took a shine to Susan in a way that was far from polite and should have been above her age to attract.

They did not see Peter until he stood from where he crouched to speak to Lucy (he had liked it far better when he could talk to her not down). He was furious of course and it only took one look for them to know it.

It surprised them all when they retreated until they turned to look at him and saw their high king once more ready for battle, Rhindon in his hand before the image faded and Peter returned.

They were men and women contained as children and it appeared that Narnia or no their true selves wanted out.

Lucy soon grew tall for her age and then taller still. Taller even then she had in the Narnian air at this age. Their mother did not know what to make of the growth spurt though somehow it did not seem nearly as out of place as for her to speak and act as she did at 8. It was almost as though her body was righting a wrong.

The others soon followed suit and it was not long before Peter felt more like himself though he still looked closer to sixteen then his true age of 28.

They became even more odd and even more foreign than before, regaining their bearings as their bodies became even a little more in line with themselves.

People began to whisper.

And soon even Mrs. Pevensie began to tread carefully around the four monarchs as what they were became less hidden.

Many people came to her saying that they had seen flashes, spectral forms, kingly figures shrouding her children like cloaks and she could not deny them for she too had seen them.

Seen as a young lady dressed in finery with a sword at her side and a bow at her back, golden hair streaming, ready to do battle replaced her youngest child. Seen her passion at any wrong, her enthusiasm for life that could not be equaled, seen her fierceness. Seen the way she fingered the dagger that Peter had gifted her with familiarity. Seen the way her high spirits seemed uplift her brothers and sister. Valiant.

She saw her dark haired son be replaced by a knight, strong and proud, kingly. Saw a man, tall and dark and noble. Saw skill, medieval perhaps, but well beyond the ability of a 10 year old as he fought with Peter and won. She saw a strength of character, a knowledge that it seemed his siblings relied upon. Saw his ability to judge rightly in a way that befit an old man of great experience. Just.

She looked as Susan moved with grace, a beauty overtaking her features that Mrs. Pevensie was sure could incite men to go to war. She took care of them all in a way that made her feel redundant for surely they did not need a mother when they had such care. Gentle.

She watched as Peter already strong, became bright and golden. A fierce defender, a true warrior. Clad all in red, with a golden crown upon his brow, he commanded only as he was willing to do and lead his family as one familiar with authority and sometimes she thought that even the air around him wished to bend to his will. For who would not wish to obey one so good, so right, so Magnificent.

She had known for some time that they did not need her but now she saw that they were not even children at all, no longer hers to care for as Peter began to run the house as though it was his own.

Peter saw their mother shift away and realized that perhaps they had let too much slip though they had been careful to only speak of Narnia when they were alone and keep the full extent of themselves hidden. But it was in the very way they spoke, just as years could not be erased in a day, neither could the foreignness of their tongue, the oddness of their skills nor their sometimes obvious marveling at things thought common place (he still remembered the first time they received a phone call after their return and how long it took them to realize from whence the noise came).

It seemed that even their old bodies knew what this world did not.

That just as England was no longer home, they were no longer England's.

It seemed that with each day that passed they became even less able to fit into this new and old mold.

Peter began to itch.

He could feel his skin crawl as the very spirit within him rejected the body it wore.

He saw it in his siblings also, the ever present and somehow growing need to return to a world that they belonged.

It was almost unbearable and he wondered how professor Kirk had born it all these years and his heart broke as he realized that they may very well be stuck, that they may never again return home.

Home. Narnia.

There was a lion roaring in his chest as the idea came.

He did not even have to ask if they would come, as soon he spoke they heard the command and responded as they always did.

They were packed within the hour with their mother none the wiser and they left after she fell asleep. The train ride was quiet, filled with anticipation, and they arrived at the old manor house after a brisk walk.

By a stroke of luck it was the professor who opened the door and all it took was a look for him to let them in for he had not felt or seen their like since his return from that other world.

They tried the wardrobe that night but were met with no success but Peter was not put out for the Professor had told them his own story and of the rings and of the great wood between the worlds.

They asked only one question and he found it within him to only give one reply.

They would return the next day to London and visit his old home and when they did they found that they did not need two rings as the Professor had supposed but only one.

The one that took them home.

They returned to themselves at Lantern Waste and were quick to make the journey across country where they found an army of Telmarines lying in wait for the call to arms. A sneak attack on a country without a king.

However it was not the Narnians who were surprised that day for though they were gone for some years Narnia was still familiar with the sight of Rhindon wielded by the Magnificent, siblings at his side and a lion at his back.

You came home and they welcomed you.