Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All rights go to C.S. Lewis and his challenge to a child to write their own story.
"Do you have another story for me?"
The nurse looked down at her charge, the next king of Narnia and smiled. She was running a huge risk in telling him the stories of old, but if there was any chance of there being a future not only for Telmar, but for Narnia, then one of the rulers needed to be raised in the way they should go. "I do, my princeling." Contentment settled warmly in her chest as the young boy sat next to her.
"What's this one about?" he asked with wide, excited eyes.
"It's about two kings of Narnia," she began.
"The Just and Magnificent?" he interrupted.
"No, these two kings are later than them," she explained. "Actually, they were father and son. But you have to understand though, my prince, is that the son was not a very wise king. He actually wasn't king at all. His father was. But he fancied himself as king and he did everything in his power to make himself king. Including fighting against his own father for the crown."
"No! Why would he fight against his father?"
At the look of horror on the princeling's face, she chuckled and pulled him into her lap. "That's why he wasn't very wise. He managed to gather a few allies to him, just enough that he had a small army and went against the king. Now the battle before, the Narnians agreed that the king would not go out to battle again because if the army had to retreat, then the enemy would not be interested in the army, but the king. And the wise king told them he would do whatever they seemed best. So he did not go out with his army to go against his son.
"The two armies met on the plains of (dancing lawns). The son's army was defeated by the King's and the casualties were great—twenty thousand. The battle spread out over the whole plain and the forest claimed more lives that day than the sword."
"The forest?" exclaimed the young king.
She chuckled. "That's right, my king. Remember, back then, even the trees were alive. They were great warriors, dancers and loyal friends."
"So what did the forest do?"
"Now, the king's son met his father's men in the forest. He was riding his horse and as it went under the thick branches of a large oak, the tree reached out and grabbed his hair, holding him up. For truth be told, the forest was not pleased with the heir. The son's horse kept running, and the great Oak firmed its grip on his hair, waiting for the King's men. When they arrived, the Oak waited to see what would be done to the misguided youth. The captain of the army killed the prince, and the Oak gave his body to be taken home to his father. The King mourned for his son, but knew that it was Aslan's will not to have such a disobedient heir to rule."