"Twanngg" The crimson-feather-tipped arrow spiraled away from Susan's bow as her younger sister Lucy leaped away with a squeal.
"Susan! That was this close to hitting me!" she cried indignantly.
Susan just laughed. "Believe me, if I wanted to hit you, you'd have some very lovely feathers sticking out of your forehead right now." She said, her voice dripping with good-natured mirth.
Lucy attempted to keep a scowl on her face, but it was impossible today. It truly was the perfect day she thought gleefully as she glanced around. She had awoken to the sound of birds chirping and the quiet humming of her maid. At the moment she was practicing archery with her sister, Susan. But, she thought with a smile, the best was yet to come. At dusk there would be an extravagant banquet in the great hall of Cair Paravel with her royal siblings and the Narnian nobility. For today was Queen Lucy the Valliant's 15th birthday.
"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to take your shot?" chirped Susan.
Lucy plucked a dagger out of her belt and flicked it at the target, burying it deep into the center of the wood before spinning around and flopping down on the grass, her arms sprawled out and mingling with her long chestnut locks. Susan folded gracefully down next to her, lying in a much more lady-like position. She looks beautiful even after an hour of hard training thought Lucy wistfully.
Impulsively she propped herself up and blurted "Will you help me get ready for the ball this evening?"
Susan appeared startled but smiled warmly notheless. "It would be my honor."
"It's still not quite right…" Susan mused, closely examining the latest dress Lucy had donned.
"It's the last one I've got! You said no to all the others too!" Cried Lucy exasperatedly.
Susan picked at the lilies laid out on Lucy's bureau. A small smile spread across her rose-bud lips. "I've got the perfect thing." And with those words she glided out of Lucy's chambers, silencing the trailing Lucy's every question.
Susan, kneeling by the jewel studded trunk by the foot of her bed, pulled out a package wrapped in soft linen and bound with black ribbon.
"Close your eyes." Lucy obeyed, and allowed herself to be guided to her feet. She raised her arms and felt something as soft as a waterfall fall down over her body, settling about her ankles. Able to contain herself no longer, she opened her eyes and walked to the full-length golden mirror adorning one corner. Lucy could hardly believe her eyes. The dress was more than she could have imagined. It was a soft gold the color of the first rays of golden daylight to pierce the black of night. It fit tightly at her bosom, accentuating her admittedly small assets there, before billowing into a full, flowing skirt that must have contained yards of fabric. At her waist there was a belt laid with crystals and just enough emeralds to bring her eyes into their rank.
"Oh Susan," she breathed. "It's perfect!" She spun to envelop her sister in a hug.
"There now," said Susan, her voice tight with emotion. "Wouldn't want to spoil your lovely dress, now would we?"
"Susan, what is it?" asked Lucy gently, sisterly concern pulling her out of the clouds.
"Oh nothing, Lucy dear, just an old woman being sentimental," Lucy fixed her with a look.
"It's just- my baby sister isn't so babyish anymore." said Susan, her voice breaking.
"Oh, Su." soothed Lucy, pulling her older sister into her arms, where they remained until it was time to go down to the ball.
"Ready, Lu?" asked Peter, his eyes gleaming. Lucy took a deep, steadying breath, and nodded, clutching Peter's arm. The high king was escorting Lucy to the ball for her birthday. Behind them, Susan was arm in arm with Edmund. Peter motioned to the fauns guarding the doors, and the swung open in perfect synchronization, allowing the royal siblings a double door entrance.
The herald's clear voice rang out "High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and the guest of honor the valiant Queen Lucy!"
Music rang out from the orchestra, filling the gleaming hall with perfectly tuned chords as the High King led his youngest sibling forward for the first dance of the night. Lucy fairly shone as her brother spun her across the dance floor, reveling in his sister's happiness.
Suddenly the doors were flung open to reveal a red-faced, gasping messenger, clutching a bloody arrow. Silence fell over the room.
Several people, including the kings, rushed forward to aid him, but he waved them off, refusing help until he had completed his purpose.
"Calormen has crossed the border!" he choked out. "We're at war!" And with those words, he pitched forward into blackness, far away from the chaos that had erupted in the once merry ballroom.
