"Rosaline?"

Aslan's warm voice rang clear and true from behind my head. My eyes re-diverted to the steel of my sword which I was sharpening against the grind stone.

"I know you wish to go after them." I remained silent, tears threatening to fall down my face. "You do know you cannot."

With that I had heard enough, I tossed the newly sharpened blade to the ground with so much force it drove quite a way into the soil and although my vision was watery my gray, stormy eyes connected with the grand lion's gold ones and I crumpled to the ground.

"Aslan h-he's my b-b-brother," I stuttered between sobs.

"I know dear one but there is nothing you can do for him now."

I continued my pathetic episode; my brownish blonde hair fell in wispy strands across my cheeks. "All we can do is wait for the prophecy and gather support."

"I will hold out hope, Aslan," I murmured in an attempt to keep calm.

With that the true King of Narnia left.

This was two years ago.