Bringing Darren up to speed took time. Time others did not have to spare. The day was beginning and there were a lot of things to be done. Little by little everyone excused themselves from the room. The first to leave was Edmund, Lucy and Peter went next. Susan hadn't come, though I was sure the rest would bring her up to speed and she was bound to stop by Darren's eventually and inquire about his health. Roy and Thea followed once their part of the story had been shared. The last to go were Henry and Phoebe, who apologized profoundly for taking him prisoner. One by one they left until only Dean and I remained, explaining everything with unmatched patience so as to not disturb him even more. Darren was already disturbed by his lack of memories, and as our story progressed, he became bewildered. Confusion dominated his eyes, but it was replaced promptly by a stunned look and a cry of outrage at my latest revelation.

"... we were too late and when we got there you two had already been married,"

"What?! No no no no no," he jumped up from his seat, panicking just a tad. "I broke up with her," He stated quite firmly. "I-I broke up with her," he repeated. This time, not so sure of himself, it came out as a question. He started pacing.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes.

Darren frowned and thought about this. I could tell he did not trust his memories, but he had said it with such certainty the first time, it made him doubt. "Yes, I... broke up with her many times," he said softly. Almost a whisper to himself. His eyes moved as if he were looking for something and he blinked repeatedly. He was realizing something.

"They must have dozed him heavily enough to make him agree to marry her," I turned to Dean. "Do you remember?" I asked Darren. But he seemed consumed with his memories. "Darren?"

Darren wasn't paying attention, he had his own thoughts and questions. 

"Darren," Dean called for his attention. This time it did the trick. 

"What day is it?" he asked us.

Dean and I exchanged looks. Was he really this confused? Was his mind so messed up he had had no grasp of time while under the effects of the potion?

"Tuesday," I answered. 

"No, I mean the date. The month, the year..." He waited expectantly. 

"You really don't remember?" I asked. I couldn't help feel sorry for him. I wanted to hug him and tell him it was alright. Recently newfound maternal instincts, I suppose. I wished his mother were here, he must miss her.

He just stared expectantly at me. 

"It's August," Dean said warmly. "Year 1006. The month is nearly over. The raining season will start soon," he added.

Darren grimaced, but then nodded and sat back down.

"I think it happened sporadically," he started. "When we went hunting, that day you both nearly drowned," I stopped him.

"She nearly drowned," I pointed out. In my head, I was the hero not the lady in distress. "Should have let her drown," I whispered under my breath. 

Dean shot me a look.

Right. This isn't about me. 

"My memories of that day are clear. Well, clearer than the rest. I was fully conscious of my actions back then. It is after that when memories become hazy. It's difficult to remember. Like looking through a steamy window. She was getting too serious, too clingy. I wanted an out but I was pulled back in. Repeatedly. It started after that accident. I am positive," Dean said confidently. 

Hmm, "So everything from before was real?" I asked.

"Yes, but nothing serious. She was just the next distraction. It didn't mean much, just a good time," Darren confessed.

His intentions weren't pure. I suspected so.

"That would explain some things," I said.

"Such as?" He looked up and locked eyes with me. Curious as to what he had done during those two years of hazy memories.

"You said one thing when you were with her but did the opposite when you went away. The effects must have dissipated. You'd get all defensive when I asked about you and her. Yet a few times you said you found her... annoying. It must have been your true self showing,"

"Must have," he agreed, but he still looked confused and his brows were pulled together. 

"So, she wanted you all to herself and concocted this plan to win you. That's what we're going with?" Dean asked.

"It's the only thing that makes sense to me," Darren said with a slight shrug.

"I just wanted to be sure," Dean said.

The room fell into silence until Darren broke it.

"So what happened after?" 

"After what?" I asked. 

"You said I... married her," he looked pained by the word. "How did we get here?"

Ah, that. He would not like that.

I explained how James had sent an order for his arrest and how we carried out our plan, the charges that were brought up against them, and the trip back. He reacted better than I expected. He reacted, well, in a way I could not have anticipated. He thanked me.

"You are not... mad at me?" I asked. I half expected him to yell at me. 

"At you? No," He sounded amused by the thought but then his tone turned serious. "You did what you had. You all did. Thank you, I... I do not know what I'd do without you." Unexpected. His tone changed again. "I am, however, mad at her. She caused so much conflict, she tricked me into marrying her, she got my titles stripped away... oh, I am mad at her, but at the same time," another hesitation, "I am mad at myself," he admitted, head hanging, eyes at the floor. 

At himself? Why, but he's the victim here!

"You are not at fault, you did nothing wrong, brother," Dean said, placing a hand on his double's shoulder.

"But I did. If I had not been toying with her like that, if I hadn't led her on, if I hadn't shown her favour when my intentions did not match her expectations I wouldn't have gotten into this mess," 

"You didn't get yourself into this mess. She created the mess," I said. He shouldn't blame himself. This was all her fault! 

"Please, we all know I didn't look to her with the best of intentions. She was just the next conquest to add to the list. I knew I'd end up leaving her, yet I persisted,"

Yes, Darren's intentions were only ever lustful, but Danielle wasn't exactly innocent. Neither was she dumb. 

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but you have a bit of a reputation. She had to have known what she was doing," I said. Oh, Danielle knew exactly what she was doing. There is no way she hadn't heard of the Prince who went through ladies as a baker goes through flour sacks. She had to have known what she was getting herself into. Every past girl knew.

A woman as gossipy as she, there is no way she didn't hear. Perhaps she even planned it. He was an easy man to get involved with as any. Maybe she engineered it all.

Darren considered this, staring at his knee. "Maybe," He didn't sound very convinced, "though I don't remember enough to make an assertion. It's all still very confusing,"

I did not know what else to say to reassure him. Apparently, neither does Dean. He just stares at him with a pained expression. And then Darren yawns.

Well, duh! He must be very tired. I doubt he got much sleep being held prisoner on our ship.

"I'm so inconsiderate. You must be tired," I said and stood up slowly.

"Yes, you should get some sleep. You'll feel better afterwards. Your mind will clear up as mine did. You just need some time. You'll remember eventually," Dean backed me up, standing as well.

"I am tired," Darren agreed, and then, as if to make a point, he yawned again. "Quite tired,"

Dean was right. 

It took Darren a few days to fully comprehend and process the extent of the damage the potion had had on his mind. The more le learned, the more his anger towards Danielle grew. Anger that turned into outrage and downright hatred. He was past blaming himself, for he had recalled he had once been honest with her before the first break up took place. It was this fact, his honesty in that he did not love her, that we speculated had sparked whatever motivated her into recurring to magic in order to keep him by her side. 

And still, he remained married to her. That fact seemed to bother him the most. 

There wasn't much we could do about that but wait until James arrived. He had sent word he was on his way to deal with Darren himself. 

Darren had wanted to explain everything right away in a letter, but Dean and I convinced him it was best to have a conversation face to face about it rather than write it all down. That and the fact that we would probably have to write an entire book just to explain it all. Waiting for James to arrive was the best call, we said to him and he easily agreed, knowing we'd back him up when my brother arrived. He'd need us. After all, we had arrested Darren for treason and only James could pardon him for that. Because of this, despite us being acutely aware of his innocence, Darren remained confined to his quarters. He slept most of the time which I thought might be a sign of depression, but Dean said it was a good thing, that it would help clear his mind. I visited daily and took the twins to see him. He didn't remember them fully, but entertaining them seemed to bring him joy. Dean, of course, remained by his side. Ever watchful and attentive, waiting for his brother to remember another detail of his ordeal so he could document it and tell me all about it. 

The list of times we suspected she used magic to keep him grew. 

Peter and I issued him the pardon he required from our part. It was the best we could do. I wished we hadn't recurred to arresting him for treason though. That just complicated thing. Darren thanked us and then apologized for the poor decisions he took under the influence of magic. We didn't blame him. 

As for Danielle and her mother, they remained locked up. Her father lobbying for their release unsuccessfully. He too had to wait for James. 

The plan was to inform him of all we that had happened, all the new developments, and see what he had to say. I was fairly sure he'd forgive him. After all, it wasn't Darren's fault he pursued a crazy obsessive wannabe witch. Either we would hold a trial (James included) to decide what was to become of Danielle and her mother, or he would extradite them to Datram and decide himself. I, along with Thea and Lord Roy, wanted to see justice done here. She had, after all, messed with a Narnian. One of the few humans we had. There had to be a price to pay. But again, we had to wait. 

I do not like waiting. The uncertainty, the worry, the stress... it is not pleasant. I was restless. 

Luckily, James arrived before the week ended. 

Darren's mind had mostly cleared up by then and he remembered much more than before. Not everything, but certainly a great deal more. It's as if the window was clearing up. That was his analogy, though Dean compared his experience (as brief as it had been) with looking past a foggy field. The fog dissipating with time. Whichever analogy suits you better, he was of sound mind by the time my brother arrived. 

James greeted me with a smile, shook hands with Edmund, kissed Susan and Lucy's cheeks, gave Peter a friendly yet manly embrace, and knelt down to greet my boys. Soon enough he had one of them sitting on his shoulders and the other complaining he wanted a ride as well. It was a happy image him playing with the boys. I don't think I had ever seen him interact with toddlers. Not that he had any toddlers of himself to interact with. Hayley (who had also come and had also greeted us all) smiled at the interaction as well. All these years and still no children. I thought they liked each other. Didn't they- but I was pulled from the thought by the mention of my name. 

"Imira, help," James said amused, struggling to walk with Edward clinging to his leg just as a monkey clings to a branch. 

I laughed, like everyone else was, and went to peel the kid off my twin. 

"Don't pester your uncle," I tried to sound serious, but the humour was evident in my voice. Even to a two-year-old. 

Edward pouted. "But I want up," he complained. 

Oh, who am I to say no to those big beautiful eyes and that adorable little face with those cute chubby cheeks? 

"Come on, mate," Peter said and took him from my arms to place him on his shoulders. He can't refuse them either. 

Honestly, who can? 

The gesture was met with enthusiasm, but I was certain I'd have to groom Peter's hair afterwards. Edward loved to touch people's hair. 

"So, where's our runaway?" James asked more serious. 

I thought being around the twins would cheer him up and put him in a good mood. It was a sort of preparation. Buttering him up before he saw Darren. His mood was good as we walked to our destination. Susan and Lucy talked with Hayley about something I could not hear, little Peter (whose name we were planning to change to William or most likely make that his second name for it proved far too confusing - even Peter agreed-) unintentionally slapped my brother and poked his eye, and Edward (as I expected) made a complete mess of Peter's hair, until, at last, we reached the doors to Darren's. 

Peter and James placed the boys on the floor, earning a protest, but when Lucy said she'd take them to see the horses they forgot about it and went willingly with her, completely forgetting about the rest of us. How easily they are distracted. 

But his was no news to me, it was already agreed upon. The girls would not be going to Darren's. After all, someone had to take care of governing while Peter, Edmund, and I dealt with things. They were both as involved in this as I was. 

I had done my part and gotten James in a good moon, but as soon as the doors opened and he laid eyes on Darren, his humour soured. He visibly tensed, the corners of his mouth forming a flat line, and there was no longer amusement in his eyes. I could see he was readying for a confrontation. He was pissed and beyond. 

James stalked to where a hopeful Darren was waiting to greet him and eradicated any hopes of a happy reunion. 

"You imbecile," he started, but before he could do or say anything, I got between them.

"Oi! None of that!" I used my mother voice and pushed him back ever so gently with my palms raised and explained as briefly as I could. "It wasn't Darren's fault. There was a love potion. He wasn't thinking clearly,"

Two years of Darren's life summarized into three sentenced. 

This took James by surprise. He took a step back and his furious expression turned to confusion. Confusion mirrored in Hayley. She was now standing next to Peter as he ran his hands through his hair in an effort to tame the mess Edward had left. 

"A love potion?" He asked. 

Many questions were asked during the retelling of the story. Every single detail of Darren's ordeal, Dean's disastrous plan, our trip to Galma, Edmund's discovery, Darren's realizations, and our subsequent apologies were shared with James. He proved very understanding and forgave our cousin easily. Something I hoped for but didn't expect so quickly. 

With his understanding, James' fury was redirected to the red-haired girl who now had the honour of calling herself Darren's wife and the King's and Quee's new cousin. The thought repulsed me. 

Picturing her name being added to the royal archives or added to the family tree made my blood boil. This had to be undone. And since all parties involved (all but her I presume) were in favour, it was a detail that would no doubt be swiftly dealt with. 

Justice is what James demanded. Not just for our cousins, who demanded it for themselves, but because of all the damages she had caused. Troubles with neighbouring countries he now shared with us (far worse than he'd led on in his letters), as well as the implications of the fact that Darren was being manipulated by a foreign agency. Had any decision he had made in his position as a politician been fair? Or had the Galmian girl and her parents meddled? The possibilities were disturbing.

But whatever the case may be, my brother and cousins, like me, were adamant she had to pay. 

James wanted her "gone". The meaning of which he did not touch on and no one inquired further. Dean, having grown harsher than I expected throughout the years, thought her crimes most terrible and deserving of great punishment. He too did not elaborate on it. Darren was still a little confused, but he resented her greatly. He felt (and rightly so) that he had been robbed of two years of his life and knew there was no way to get them back. And not just that, he had been robbed of choice through those two years. And even worse, through one of those rare moments of clarity he had enjoyed when he had been away long enough for the effects of the love potion to fade, he had started to develop strong feelings for the Acanthean girl and felt terrible about having offended her. He blamed Danielle and wanted nothing more than to be rid of her, apologize to the Princess, and beg for a chance. 

He must really like this Princess. 

Hayley, as always, didn't say much, but her expression spoke for herself. She looked troubled. One might even say conflicted. When my brother or my cousins called for blood (metaphorically speaking) she'd slightly shake her head or furrow her brows in disapproval. She wasn't family by blood so she did not feel as apprehensive and protective as the four of us (James, Dean, Darren, and I) did of one another. I would have to ask for her exact thoughts later for I was certain she'd not share them now. Not when her different opinion would ensue a fight against my kin by questioning their idea of justice. 

And Peter... well, his expression was unreadable but he kept a clear head. His judgement wasn't compromised by his emotions, as ours was.

I too was very upset, and the more we talked about it, the angrier I grew. One might even say I was angrier than James and Dean and Darren. Combined. And although while we waited for James to get here my anger had diffused a bit, neither time nor Peter's attempts to make me get over it could ever make me forgive her actions. I still very much hatted her. 

We will look after the interests of the Narnians who were affected, which in this case only meant Lord Roy, but we should not encourage your cousin or your brother. Their demands will be great enough without you meddling and planting ideas in their brains.

Peter's request was rational, I did hold influence over James's decisions, but I could not separate the part of my brain that was angry from the part that took decisions. 

I tried, and as long as Peter was around to calm me down I started to get better at ignoring the angry voice and began to listen to the rational part of my brain. But as soon as my family started talking about Danielle and made their anger known, the spark within me was reignited and I joined the bashing. 

Peter didn't enjoy seeing me like this, all fire no compassion. He tried to remind me to let it go. Whenever I encouraged my brother and cousins in their (very well justified) outrage, he would remind me to calm the f down by placing a hand my back or discretely holding my hand. 

Right. He didn't me to stir the pot. 

And I knew he was right. I knew some part of my anger was irrational. But I also knew it wasn't without fundament. I was finding this annoying, but at the same time terribly comforting. He can keep a clear head where I can't. I should be more like him in that aspect. I need to be more like him, I told myself as he yet again touched me in an effort to rally me back. I recalled one of our previous conversations. 

Don't make this into a bigger problem than it already is. You may not like her, but she did not hurt you. It is they who need to decide how they'd like to proceed. They don't need you to feed the fire. 

I was a little too willing to feed the fire when it came to Danielle. 

At last, after another complaint from Dean, Peter spoke. We had all made vague grim suggestions as to what should be done about her. All spur of the moment. All based on emotion. All rash determinations. Nothing to be taken too seriously, but at least I was resolute in one serious matter: there had to be a public trial. 

I could have continued with the Danielle insult contest for another hour, but Peter had had enough of it. 

"Whoever we shall proceed," Peter said, reeling the conversation from fantasy back to reality, "it is my belief it should be decided tomorrow," Dean scowled mildly, but Peter paid him no attention as he was turning to look at my brother. "You know now what has happened, but we cannot let our emotions cloud our judgement," That's a generous generalization from his part, "We should take a break, clear our heads, and come back to it tomorrow with a fresh perspective," 

I took a deep breath to calm myself. As usual, he was right. 

"I agree with King Peter," Hayley said before James got chance to get a word out.

 He turned to her slightly surprised. She hadn't spoken in a long while. 

"We shouldn't rush into anything, there is no need. We should discuss this privately and convey tomorrow to address the situation. Allowing one's judgement to be lead by anger isn't wise,"

"Well said, Queen Hayley," Edmund concurred, finally back from his thoughts. "Both suspects are imprisoned, we should think this thoroughly. We cannot allow our judgement to be impaired by rage,"

I nodded. James nodded. Darren nodded. Dean wasn't convinced.

"Very well," James agreed, reeling his anger easily. He's so much better than me at controlling his emotions. He only vented because he was with us and he trusts us. "It has been a long journey. Is it safe to assume we are to take our same quarters?" He asked no one in particular and yet everyone at the same time.

"Certainly," Darren said at once. "And we should all reconvene tomorrow. All this talk is troubling my mind. I still don't have a complete grasp of everything that happened. It's all still jumbled memories I am yet to make sense of, but we should revisit this tomorrow. Perhaps I'll remember something useful,"

How very... Darren-like of him. He was definitely under the influence before.

"Important decisions should be thought of carefully," I agreed, trying to sound wiser than I actually am, though I don't think they bought it. After all, I was clamouring for metaphorical blood a few minutes ago. Be more like Peter, be more like Peter. "You are all, of course, invited to dinner. Though if you prefer a quiet night of privacy, do not feel obliged," I gave James the option. We had just spent an awful lot of time together, maybe he had grown tired of us. Maybe he didn't want to hear me complain anymore. 

"I think I'll see you tomorrow," he said and stood up. We all followed the social queue. "It was a long journey," he approached and kissed my cheek. "And this has certainly given me a lot to think,"

"Well, take your time," I replied and then turned to ask Hayley if she wanted to come to dinner. She can make her own decision.

As we walk towards the dining hall, Peter takes my hand and leads me into one of the many empty rooms of the castle. 

He closes the door behind him and I am reminded of our sneaking days. Did he bring me in here to make out? Because if he did, I am up for it. 

He stops before me and caresses my cheek. I feel my heart skip a beat. He still makes me nervous. 

"You really shouldn't encourage them like that," Peter says softly, looking into my eyes. 

Not what I expected. 

I take a second to clear my mind. "Can you really blame me?" I ask innocently. 

"I thought we had agreed on this," Peter says, sliding his right hand down my shoulder and towards my waist. My heartbeat accelerates. "I thought you were over it," 

"I don't think I'll ever be over it,"  

"She holds no power over you but the one you give her," he says, brushing with his left hand a lock of my hair. Is it hot in here? I feel like it's hot in here. 

"Easier said than done," 

"Try," he whispers into my lips. 

I want her gone. I want her to disappear. I don't want to see her, I don't want to talk about her, I don't want to think of her, I want her out of our lives for good. Never again do I wish to hear her name or picture her face. 

But I am trying to be more reasonable. And fighting over her is exactly what Peter has just said. Giving her power. 

"Alright, I'll try," I agree and catch a small smile spreading across his lips before he closes the small space between us. 

"I won't promise to succeed, but I'll try," I add once we've parted. 

He chuckles a little. "That's all I'm asking for,"