A/N: Finally! What we've all been waiting for, including me! Here is the long awaited companion to Winter Blues and Downcast Summer, featuring the Pevensie family's summer banquet. I hope everyone enjoys it. I quite like it, but then I'm a little bit biased. Dudes, though, I did my own poster for this one! I'm so proud of me! It's my first collage poster, and it turned out so great! I'm so happy right now lol. Ah well, onward!
Disclaimer: I made chicken salad with hummus instead of mustard tonight. It's delicious! I highly recommend it!
Three weeks passed with a flurry of activity, particularly on the girls' part. They were sewing up a storm, and the house was almost constantly filled with delicious scents of the dishes they were cooking. It had Mr. Pevensie almost as excited as his children, and he could tell Mrs. Pevensie felt the same.
One morning, the couple awoke to find two astounding outfits laid out for them on the chairs in their room. One was a golden dress the likes of which neither had ever seen, and it had Mrs. Pevensie on the edge of tears.
The other outfit was similar in theme. A gold tunic was paired with a brown jerkin and a pair of brown trousers the same shade. Mr. Pevensie almost wanted to cry himself. He didn't know much about clothing besides how to wear it, but he could tell these clothes were very fine. He and Mrs. Pevensie would have to take special care of them so they wouldn't be ruined.
It took a while, but once they figured out how to dress in their new clothes, they went downstairs to see what else they might find. What they saw made their jaws drop.
The living room had been transformed into a palace. That was the only way they could describe it. There were flowers everywhere, and candles had been lit and arranged neatly around the room. The dining room was much the same. The table had been moved up against the wall, and a magnificent feast was arrayed on it. Along the other wall was a large pile of blankets and pillows that looked very inviting.
"Good morning, Mum, Dad," Peter's voice greeted them. Turning, the parents found their children standing in the doorway leading to the living room. How regal they looked! Mr. Pevensie couldn't deny it anymore. His children really were kings and queens.
The girls had done a fantastic job of creating their outfits. Susan wore a violet gown similar in shape to Mrs. Pevensie's, though she'd paired it with a bronze cape that fell to the floor. Lucy's dress was a light gray, almost silver, with a red cape.
The boys were dressed like Mr. Pevensie was. Both wore brown trousers, but Peter had on a maroon tunic with a gold cape, and Edmund wore a light blue tunic with a gray cape. It didn't escape Mr. Pevensie's notice that the older siblings wore a similar color scheme, and the younger siblings matched each other as well.
"You all look wonderful, my dears," Mrs. Pevensie said tearfully, giving her children a shaky but genuine smile. "But what is all this for?"
"We would like to cordially invite you, Lord and Lady Pevensie, to the banquet of the High King and the King and Queens of Narnia," Peter stated with a bow of the head. Beside him, his brother bowed and his sisters curtsied deeply.
"After breakfast, we've planned an exciting tournament for the Lord and Lady's entertainment," Edmund spoke next. "The Kings and Queens will battle each other in competitions of swordsmanship, archery, and knife throwing. Unfortunately, the High King and I will not have a jousting tournament, as we have no horses."
"Which is probably a good thing since our yard is so small," Lucy chuckled. The rest of her family joined her.
"After the tournament will be a leisurely supper prepared by our High King and our Queens," said Edmund. "The High King has graciously acquired some fresh fish for us, though I really wish he would tell me where he got them." Edmund turned to glare at his brother. "Where do you keep getting these fish? There's nowhere to fish around here. And I know the market doesn't sell fish like this. I've been aching to go hunting for four years now, and you get to go off and go fishing. And without me!"
"I'm sure your rant can wait until later, King Edmund," Susan interrupted. The younger brother still glared at the older, though he did quit griping at him. "And you could take King Edmund with you next time you go fishing, King Peter. It's only right."
Peter hung his head sheepishly after his sister's admonishment and raised his eyes up slowly to meet his brother's. "Sorry, Ed. I wasn't trying to exclude you."
Edmund sighed. "I suppose I can't be too mad at you. I'm sure you've missed fishing just as much as I've missed hunting. I'm sorry for yelling at you."
Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie shared a small smile at the way their sons were able to settle their little spat so calmly. Mr. Pevensie could still remember the horrid fights and yelling they did when they were younger. This was so much nicer.
"Edmund was always the diplomatic one," Lucy teased quietly.
"Come now, and let us eat," Susan invited, indicating the table filled with food.
There were so many delicious looking dishes on the table, and Mr. Pevensie couldn't wait to try them all. There were breads, toast, jams, fruit, pastries, cheese, different kinds of meat. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie wondered where their daughters found everything to make all this. "Girls, this all looks truly amazing," Mrs. Pevensie gushed. Once everyone had filled their plate, they all settled among the blankets and cushions to eat.
It really was a pleasant meal. Everyone was so relaxed and at ease as they carried on light conversations about memories they shared. Mr. Pevensie couldn't remember the last time he felt so at peace.
About halfway through the meal, Peter lifted his head up and looked at his brother. "Ed, remember what we spoke about when we first came up with this idea?"
"Whaf?" Edmund mumbled around the piece of bread he had bitten into.
"We talked about singing as we ate since we couldn't have any real music here."
"What a great idea!" Lucy cheered. Without even waiting for her siblings, she started on a song in a language Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie had never heard before. But when the rest of them joined in, their voices blended together into something entirely new. It was otherworldly and magical. There was no other way to describe it.
"I miss singing that with Mr. Tumnus," Lucy said once the song was finished. Her voice was a little less cheerful than it was before, and Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie could only wonder what caused the sudden change in mood.
"Oh, speaking of Mr. Tumnus," Susan said suddenly, jumping up from her seat and rushing out of the room. All eyes followed her as she darted out. A few moments later, she returned with three long boxes. "I made these for us as well." She gently set the boxes down on the floor and looked up at her family with a sheepish grin. "I know they're not exactly the same. I can't exactly get my hands on gold and silver, now can I? But I thought it just wouldn't be right to have this banquet without our crowns."
Opening the first box revealed two simple crowns made of woven leaves. "Laurel leaves and yarrow for you, Lucy." Ever so gently, the older lifted the crown from its box and approached her younger sister. "To the glistening Eastern Sea, Queen Lucy, the Valiant." Lucy's smile was radiant as she bowed her head to receive her crown.
The youngest Pevensie stood next and opened the other boxes, picking up a crown of leaves. "Birch leaves for Edmund." Edmund copied his younger sister's actions and bowed to her. "To the great Western Wood, King Edmund, the Just."
Edmund then stood and took another crown made of flowers. "Daffodils and mountain ash leaves for Susan." Susan knelt before her brother and allowed him to crown her. "To the radiant Southern Sun, Queen Susan, the Gentle." Susan bowed and graciously received her crown from her brother.
Lifting the last crown out of its box, Edmund turned to the eldest of them. A weight fell upon the room as the children's eyes teared up. "For Peter, oak and apple leaves." Peter lifted himself to one knee and bowed before his brother. "To the clear northern sky, I give you High King Peter, the Magnificent."
They didn't know exactly what had happened, but Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie felt a change in the air when their oldest was given his crown. They felt the change start when Lucy received her crown, but it was when Peter was crowned that they felt the full force of it. These weren't their children anymore. Now, standing before them, were four kings and queens.
"I also have something for you," Susan said, turning to her parents. Confusion filled the Pevensies as they watched their older daughter lifting the third and final box. "Peter." Peter stood to help his sister and smiled when he saw what she held. Susan lifted another crown out of the box. It was a single Lily of the Valley stem made into a circlet.
"For Mum, Lily of the Valley. Because you never stopped believing that we would all return home." There were tears in Mrs. Pevensie's eyes as she bowed her head to receive her daughter's gift, and she lifted her head with a smile.
"And for Dad, gladiolus leaves and violets. Because of your strength and your promise to come back home to us." Mr. Pevensie couldn't stop his own tears as he knelt before his son.
Afterwards, the children sat back down and returned to their meals, but their parents couldn't join them just yet. They were still in awe of the crowns they'd been unexpectedly given. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie knew the significance of these flowers in their country's culture, and for their children to bestow these gifts on them was an honor they would always cherish.
Looking out the window, Edmund looked up at the sky. "It's not far from midday," he announced. The Pevensies would never get over how their children could look up at the sun and tell the time. Edmund turned to his siblings with a grin of mischief. "You know what that means."
The children's eyes all lit up as they scrambled up from their seats. They all ran up the stairs, stomping like elephants and giggling like the children they were. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie exchanged smiles. "Well, this is much more than I ever expected," Mrs. Pevensie confessed.
"It really is," her husband agreed. "Our children really are something else."
Moments later, the same elephant-stomping and giggles came back down the stairs and the boys and girls burst into the dining room, their capes gone. "Come on," Edmund summoned his parents. "It's time for the tournament to start." Peter dashed in and grabbed his cup of juice, downing it quickly. "Let's go, Pete. I'm not waiting around for you!"
"I just wanted to finish my drink, Ed," the older brother laughed as he followed the younger out the door. With no other option, the adults followed suit.
Their jaws dropped simultaneously at the sight they beheld. The backyard had been transformed into a practice field, with targets set up on one side of the yard and the other side completely cleared out.
"It's too bad we don't have more room," Peter sighed. "Susan and Lucy would really be able to have a competition." He sent a smile his sisters' way, which they returned.
"So what are we doing first?" asked Edmund. "Swords, knives, or archery?"
"I want to compete against Susan first," Lucy decided. "It's been too long since I last shot an arrow. I want to see how rusty I am."
"I'm sure you're not rusty," Susan said. "And if you are, then I'm equally as rusty. I haven't shot anything since our second trip to Narnia."
"Well then, let's see how rusty both of you are." Edmund paced the distance the girls were to begin with and turned back to them. "Okay, start here. Each time you make a shot, take ten paces back. The first one to not get a bull's eye loses the competition."
"That's not fair, Ed," Peter spoke up. "We should at least let them warm up first. As they said, it's been a while since either of them have used a bow."
Edmund rolled his eyes. "Fine. You get five minutes to get back into it, and then we start. We should go warm up too, Pete. We don't want to pull or tear a muscle."
"I definitely don't want another one of those," Peter agreed. "The last one was a nightmare, even with Lucy's cordial."
The thought of their children experiencing a pulled muscle made their parents' hearts hurt. They never wanted their children to experience any kind of pain.
"If anything does happen, we have the wine in the storm cellar," Susan told them. "It may not do much for healing, but at least it can help dull the pain some."
There was wine in the storm cellar? Since when? Where would it have come from? The Pevensies never bought wine. Then a thought occurred to them.
"Susan and Lucy make juice from scratch," said Mrs. Pevensie.
"They could have put it in the cellar to ferment," Mr. Pevensie finished. They didn't quite know how to feel about this. "Well, they are in their twenties and thirties... aren't they?"
Mrs. Pevensie shrugged helplessly. "So they've said."
Seating themselves on the porch steps to watch the tournament, their eyes returned to the yard, where the girls were getting ready to begin their competition. "Ready archers!" Edmund called. Standing several feet apart, the sisters lifted their bows and drew back their arrows. Despite their concern, the older adults couldn't contain their excitement. The cheer of the day was infectious. "Loose!"
In the blink of an eye, the two arrows were embedded in the targets, dead center. "Wow!" the parents cheered and clapped, standing to their feet to applaud their daughters.
"Step back." The girls did as Edmund instructed and backed up ten paces. "Ready archers!" Once again, they took their aim. "Loose!" Once again, they both made a perfect shot.
This continued for quite a while, the girls making perfect shot after perfect shot. Finally, they were standing against the back fence with barely enough room to pull back their elbows. They took their aim, and just as Edmund gave the order, the wind picked up and sent a breeze right by them. Lucy made her shot, but the sudden wind sent her arrow off course, and it hit the target right along the edge of the innermost circle.
Susan, however, knew how to compensate for changes in the wind, and she adjusted her aim accordingly, making yet another perfect hit. "The winner of the archery competition is Queen Susan." There was an enormous smile on the queen's face as she took a bow, her family applauding around her.
"Susan, darling, that was incredible!" Mrs. Pevensie gushed. "And Lucy, you were amazing as well. I never knew you girls were so skilled."
"Well, Susan is," said Lucy. "I need more practice."
"You did much better than I ever could," Mr. Pevensie assured her.
"What shall we do next?" asked Lucy, tired of being the subject of conversation.
"Knife throwing?" Peter suggested. "Or would you rather have our sword competition, Ed?"
"I want to go up against Lucy first," the younger brother decided. "I don't want to be too tired to aim properly."
"Fair enough. Okay, the next competition shall be knife throwing. Competitors, to the targets." The youngest siblings stepped up to take their places, each reaching for a knife. "Okay," Peter began, "this competition will be similar to the archery competition. Only instead of distance, you will be competing in speed. Whoever gets the most perfect hits in one minute will be the winner."
"I already know Lucy's going to win," Edmund said lightly. Three pairs of annoyed eyes and two pairs of curious looked to the younger boy. "What? We all know Lucy's the master when it comes to knife throwing."
"That's because I've had eighteen years of practice," Lucy sassed. "And how many have you had, Edmund?"
"Five," Edmund mumbled quickly, "a few years ago." Everyone around them chuckled at his annoyance. "Alright, alright, let's just get on with it."
"Ready!" called Peter. Lucy and Edmund stood ready, their hands at their belts for when their brother gave the command to begin. "Begin!"
Quick as lightning, knives were flying toward the targets one after the other. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie couldn't take their eyes off their children. They almost appeared to be dancing, especially Lucy. It would be quite beautiful if it weren't so dangerous and potentially deadly.
"Time!" Peter called, and the younger ones stood still. "Susan, go count the knives."
The Gentle queen did as asked, but she was stopped by a shout from her younger sister. "Ah! Bugger!" Lucy yelled, bringing her finger up to her lips.
"Lucy!" her parents gasped in shock. Since when did their little girl use such language?
"Really, Lu?" Peter asked, exasperated. He held a hand out toward the adults. "With Mum and Dad right there?" Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie were taken aback. Peter knew his sister talked like that? And he let her?
"Be glad I didn't say what I really wanted to," Lucy shot back. Leaning down, she ripped a strip off the hem of her dress and bound her finger with it. "It's been a while since I was cut that badly. I wish I had my cordial."
"Well, you'll have to make do with wine and swearing," Edmund joked. Five pairs of eyes turned to Edmund, two pairs shocked and three pairs annoyed. "Just kidding. You don't do well with wine anyway."
"Of course she doesn't!" Peter admonished. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie breathed a slow sigh in relief. At least one of their children had sense. "Last time she got drunk, I found her in the throne room singing Ring Around the Rosie to a potted plant. And half the song wasn't even in English." He turned to his baby sister. "You don't get any wine, young lady. At least not without one of us to ration it for you."
"That happened one time!" Lucy defended.
"It was the day before we came back to England!" Susan gasped. "The second time!"
Peter turned wide eyes to Susan. "She did it then, too?"
Now Susan was dumbfounded. "That wasn't the time you were talking about?"
"And I thought I got stupid when drunk," Edmund deadpanned. Lucy just rolled her eyes at her siblings.
"No, you just start kissing the nearest nymph," Peter reminded his brother. "Remember when you woke up hungover next to a sleeping nymph?"
"Which time?" Edmund asked calmly.
"The time I had to tackle and sit on you to make you stop kissing her," Lucy clarified.
"Again, which time? I've met a lot of nymphs."
"Probably the one I caught you kissing behind one of the curtains," Susan added.
"I thought that was Lucy that caught me."
"No, that was me. I distinctly remember you telling me not to tell Peter or Susan." The older girl glared at the younger boy, who didn't look the least bit ashamed.
"At least I never slept with any of them," Edmund reminded his siblings.
"That's about the only good thing we can say about you drinking," Peter mumbled. "You always fell asleep too quickly to do anything else." Edmund just held up a hand toward Peter, as if he'd just proven his point.
"Am I the only one that doesn't have a problem with wine?" Susan asked. A heavy silence crashed down on the siblings as the others stared at their sister. "What?"
"'Are you the only one that doesn't have a problem with wine'?" Peter repeated incredulously.
"You start singing show tunes when you drink," said Edmund.
"I do not!"
"Yes you do, Susan. I found you dancing up and down the halls after one ball singing songs from Look Up and Laugh," Lucy informed her sister.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Susan crossed her arms in a huff.
Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie had no clue what their children were talking about either, but it sounded as though they'd imbibed quite a lot of wine in their lifetime, a thought which had them very concerned, especially after hearing the effects the strong drink had on their children.
"That's still not as bad as Peter when he's had too much to drink," Edmund spoke up with a growing smirk. The eldest sibling froze while the other two shared their other brother's knowing grin.
"You really don't have to tell that story, Ed," Peter pleaded with his brother.
"No, I think I want to hear this one," Mr. Pevensie said, speaking for the first time in a while.
"Are you sure, dear?" Mrs. Pevensie asked hesitantly, though Mr. Pevensie could see the amused curiosity in his wife's eyes.
"Absolutely. If it's worse than what we've already heard, then I definitely want to hear it." He turned back to his children and addressed the younger boy. "What happened to Peter when he drank, Edmund?"
"I found him out in the garden one night," Edmund began, stealing a glance at his brother. "He was stripped down to his trousers, splashing in the fountain, and singing Rule, Britannia. In French."
The parents' jaws dropped. "In... in French?" Mrs. Pevensie asked, stupefied. She turned wide eyes to her eldest. "Since when do you speak French?"
"Oh, not only was he singing it in French," Edmund added. Peter dropped his head into his hands, hiding from his family. "Half of it was in French, and half of it was in Ancient Narnian, and he sang it in a little kid's voice. Complete with dancing."
While the family got a good laugh at Peter's drunken antics, Mr. Pevensie could see the slight mortification on his child's face, though he was relieved to see his son fighting a smile of his own. "And how old was Peter when this happened?" he asked in amusement.
"Twenty-six," the younger three answered in unison. This only sent their parents into louder guffaws, Mrs. Pevensie nearly falling over onto her husband. And then Edmund began to demonstrate.
"Règle, Britannia, règle les vagues," Edmund sang with glee. He threw his hands up in the air over his head and shook his hips from side to side.
Despite being embarrassed by the retelling of his stupid antics, Peter couldn't help laughing along. It was pretty funny seeing Edmund doing that, and he could only imagine how much funnier it would have been to see himself doing the very same thing, drunk and half naked in a fountain. It was an amusing image, to be sure.
"Okay, enough with the embarrassing stories," Susan interrupted, a smile still on her face. "It's time for the Kings' duel."
This sobered everyone pretty quickly, though the air was filled with excitement as the brothers' eyes met in a challenge. "Ready to lose, brother?" Edmund taunted.
"I think you have it backwards, my King," Peter bit back with a smile. Edmund returned his brother's grin and turned to retrieve their swords.
Mr. Pevensie looked forward to seeing his sons duel again. Though he was always concerned with their safety when they sparred, he couldn't deny the excitement he felt when they fought. They were absolutely brilliant swordsmen.
When Edmund came back, however, a feeling of dread crashed over the parents and ice shot down their backs. Edmund tossed one sword to Peter, and they unsheathed them together. Those swords were real!
"Where did you get real swords?" Mrs. Pevensie demanded.
"The country," the boys answered vaguely, not sparing the older adults a glance. Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie watched in trepidation as their sons squared off, ready to begin.
"Wait!" Lucy called, bringing relief to her parents. Maybe they wouldn't have to see the boys nearly kill each other. Lucy ran up to her brothers and reached up. "You don't want your crowns to get ruined. These are made of real plants, not gold and silver. They're much more delicate."
The boys leaned down to let their sister gently remove their crowns, straightening when she had stepped aside. The dread was back, and the eldest Pevensies watched on with fear for their sons' safety.
The duel began with a clang of metal on metal, the kings spinning around each other as if in a dance, the ringing of the swords their music. It was as beautiful as it was deadly, and the kings handled their weapons like masters.
The parents watched in awe as their sons fought, their movements quickening by the minute until their swords were barely a blur. They moved in ways that Mr. Pevensie had never seen before, on the battlefield or off. He was amazed by their skill.
The fight came to a head when Edmund did a fancy flick with his sword, slapping the flat of the blade against Peter's hand and knocking the older boy's sword out of his hand, disarming him. Peter's eyes followed his sword as it fell to the ground and looked back up just in time to see his brother's sword against his throat. Mrs. Pevensie nearly fainted when she saw that.
Both breathing heavily, a slow smile graced both their faces as Edmund lifted his sword away and held it at his side. Peter held his hand out to his brother. "A masterful victory, my King," he conceded.
"You were a worthy opponent," Edmund returned, shaking his brother's hand. "Now, get to it." A look of confusion passed Peter's face. His parents could relate. "I beat you in a match. You know what to do now."
Peter rolled his eyes as he caught on to what Edmund was saying, deepening Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie's curiosity. "All hail King Edmund!" Peter yelled at the top of his lungs. "The greatest sword master in all Narnia! Hail King Edmund!" Peter then knelt down and began bowing to his smug brother. "Hail King Edmund!"
The girls watched on with amused smiles and eye rolls, and the parents couldn't help their own smiles. It certainly was funny.
Peter got to his feet, chuckling at his brother's pride. "Really, though, that was fantastic. I really missed that." A quiet fell over the siblings, each of them remembering their reign in Narnia and feeling homesick.
"I miss Narnia," Susan said softly.
"Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers," Lucy added.
"Oreius and Phillip," said Edmund.
"Cair Paravel and Aslan." All eyes turned to Peter as he spoke his somber words. "When Aslan bares his teeth, winter meets its death."
"When he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again," Lucy finished the poem, her voice tearful.
Edmund started singing again, and Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie could feel the sadness radiating from their children, making them look their real ages instead of their apparent ages. Narnia really was their home, they realized, more than Finchley was now. It was a little bittersweet, knowing their children didn't feel at home where they grew up, but they were also proud that their children had created a home for themselves and made it a great home for all those that they ruled. No parent could wish better for their children.
After a few solemn moments, Edmund's song came to an end and the kings and queens met each other's eyes. "Shall we reconvene in the dining hall for supper?" Peter suggested, not quite able to hide the tremble in his voice. With small nods, the younger siblings joined their brother in gathering their weapons to take back inside.
"Who knew there was so much weighing on our children's hearts?" Mrs. Pevensie asked her husband sadly.
"They hide it very well," Mr. Pevensie agreed. "Must be a quality they learned during their reign."
"They really are kings and queens, aren't they? There's really no disputing it."
"And it explains so much about them and how they've changed."
"It really does," Mrs. Pevensie nodded her head. "When they got back from the countryside, they were so different, so grown up. Edmund had changed the most. But they were so regal, I almost felt distant, as if I couldn't approach them."
"I felt the same when I returned home. I almost felt out of place, the four of them had created their own little family, and I was just watching them from the outside. Seeing them like this now, in their element, I feel a bit closer to them. It's such an honor to be brought into their world."
Mrs. Pevensie nodded again, tears in her eyes. "Shall we join their Majesties?" she suggested with a smile.
Mr. Pevensie stood from his seat on the steps and held a hand out to his wife. "We shall, milady." The two went back inside and to the dining room, and found their children setting out different dishes, what they assumed to be their dinner that evening.
Watching their children, these kings and queens, talking pleasantly and laughing lightly after such an emotional moment, Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie felt more pride in them than they could have imagined. While they were always proud of their children, it felt different now. They weren't just seeing four kids talking and laughing together as they reset the table. They saw four monarchs enjoying the simple things life gave them in the midst of so much struggle, conflict, and trials.
Though they knew their children were no longer the innocent children they'd reared and taught since their birth, Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie couldn't be more proud of the men and women their boys and girls had become. And they couldn't be happier.
A/N: For the record, all their drunken antics were completely made up by me. I doubt C.S. Lewis would have actually gotten them drunk since we really only see them as children. So I came up with my own stuff. Please take a moment to leave a review. I crave your input! Thank you for reading!