In The Other Place

Why are the Narnian Royal Children worried about their parents' former lives? One-shot, post MN.

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"All happy families resemble each other" - Anna Karenina

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King Frank of Narnia was a very busy man. Between a farm to run and a kingdom to run, and he could never decide which of these was more work, he was generally occupied for every moment from morning 'til night. But on Saturday afternoons, the whole Kingdom of Narnia knew that King Frank was specially busy. On Saturday afternoons, King Frank and Queen Helen had a Family High Tea in the Royal nursery, and nothing was allowed to disturb it.

This particular Saturday, in the twelfth year of their reign, the summer weather was so fine and warm that the High Tea had been moved from the nursery out onto a long trestle table under the apple trees in the orchard. The Narnian Princes and Princesses, as neat as their Mother and the dryad nursemaid could make them, sat on three-legged stools up either side of the table; the bees buzzed in the few late blossoms overhead and dropped in to sample the sticky buns; the jug of lemonade in the middle of the table was so cold that the jug wept – but Father was late.

His big wicker chair at the head of the table was simply empty. It was true that Queen Helen's chair at the foot of the table was empty too, but that was because Princess Beatrice, being only a baby, had tried to swallow her shoe and consequently had to be carried back indoors choking.

"P'raps there's been an invasion," said Prince David reflectively. As the oldest, with a full name of Francis David in case he should wish to become King Frank the Second, he was of a rather martial character. "Then there'd be a great battle, and I would go as Father's squire and win my knighthood."

"Perhaps," said Princess Margaret, the next oldest, very firmly, "perhaps there's been a visit from the Great Lion." And she shot a very meaningful look down the table to where Princess Theodora, aged three, was looking so worried about the thought of a battle with Father and David fighting in it that she had stopped beating a tune on the table with her spoon. "Perhaps He's even coming through the castle this moment with Father, to have tea with us."

A clamour of excitement and consternation rose instantly among the younger Princes and Princesses. That would be lovely – but where would the Lion sit?!

"Next to me!" shouted Prince Edward, patting the empty seat of Princess Beatrice's high chair.

"No, He wouldn't!" Prince James contradicted with all the dignity of being the second-oldest prince rather than the youngest. "Aslan would sit at the head of table."

"Father sits there," Princess Katherine put in rather shyly.

"Well," said Prince James, hastily weighing up the seating arrangements. "If Edward sat on Mother's lap, then Michael could have his stool, and I could have Michael's stool, and David could move onto mine, and then Father could shift onto the side, to be on Aslan's right – and none of you girls would have to move at all," he finished in a rush. "Except to get up and curtsey, of course" – the last comment accompanying a rather doubtful glance at Princess Theodora, who had gone back to drumming with her spoon.

Prince David rolled his eyes. "A visit from the Great Lion is too serious to be muddled up with little children! Especially with sticky fingers!"

"Tisn't!" Princess Margaret contradicted flatly.

"Tis!"

"Tisn't!"

"Tis!"

Princess Margaret gave up on such reasoned argument, and sprang from her stool in search of higher authority on the subject. "Just you wait 'til I ask Mother!"

"She's coming now," Princess Katherine put in quickly, looking rather anxiously between her squabbling older brother and sister.

Two voices were instantly raised in appeal: "Mother! Would Aslan come to tea?!"

"Aslan would come to tea if He wanted to," said Queen Helen, coming up to the table at that moment carrying Princess Beatrice. "But then you two would be ashamed to be debating, and Michael would be ashamed to have his fingers in the toffee-fruit bowl."

"What's that?" said King Frank, ducking under the apple boughs to his chair as the debaters subsided and Prince Michael jerked his hand back. "Michael too hungry to wait another moment?" He nodded at his blushing son. "Go on, then. If you're ready to start, you can be the one to say grace."

Prince Michael turned, if possible, an even deeper shade of red and looked round wildly for any thunderbolt or invasion that might save him. There was nothing except the reproachful eyes of his waiting siblings. "Er, ah, um. Um..."

"In..." King Frank prompted, his face stern and his eyes merry.

"In, er … in, er …" Prince Michael took a huge breath. "In-the-name-of-the-Lion-amen!"

"Amen," said his father sincerely. "Brief is probably best when everyone is hungry, and I suppose you included the essential bits. Would you like to pass the toffee-fruit bowl?"

"I'm sorry to be a little late," King Frank explained once the first flurry of plate-passing eased and everybody could concentrate again. "Giant Rumblebuffin came to tell me personally about having accidentally stepped on the Beavers' dam while fishing for eels last night. I couldn't turn him away, the poor chap was really quite upset."

The King made a small gesture of resignation, and downed his glass of lemonade in one. "Ah, Nellie! That's the stuff!" He smiled down the table at his Queen. "You've always made marvellous lemonade. Do you remember that church choir outing on the river, where I was racked with jealousy because you blushed at the organist when he said you made lemonade fit for a king?" King Frank twinkled happily. "You must have known..."

"I never really imagined it would involve giants and talking beavers, though," said the Queen thoughtfully.

Prince Edward looked up from his plate. "What's wrong with giants?"

"Nothing," said Queen Helen quickly. "They're just a little, er ... large. When one isn't used to them."

"But-" Prince James put down his sticky bun, puzzled. "But weren't you used to giants in the other place?"

King Frank chuckled. "There aren't giants in England, James. Not like the ones here in Narnia."

All the Princes and Princesses put down their sticky buns. No giants?

"But – but centaurs?" asked Prince David hastily. "There were centaurs?"

"No."

"Fauns?"

"No."

"Dryads? And Mer-people? And – and animals?"

"There are plenty of animals in England," said Queen Helen, as King Frank shook his head for the dryads and mer-people and the children looked even more alarmed. "But they don't talk."

"Fledge!" said Princess Margaret, remembering a last straw of historical truth to which to cling. "Fledge was in the other place, 'cause he came here with Father!"

"He was," Queen Helen conceded. "But he wasn't a winged horse then, and he couldn't talk. That was only here, to take the Lord Digory and the Lady Polly to find the Tree."

The Narnian royal children stared at each other in unified horror. A world in which even animals whom you knew yourself could not talk?

"But – but – Aslan?" said Prince Michael faintly, recalling the earlier subject of conversation after a minute of silence. "Was – was He in the other place?"

It was the turn of King Frank and Queen Helen to stare at each other. "Well..." said the King slowly. "In a manner of speaking, He was. Especially in the country. But in the city – London, I mean – He … well, not being a King there, I didn't see so much of Him. And … He has a different name, there."

"Like Fledge," said Queen Helen. "Who was Strawberry until he came here."

"But He was there?" Prince David queried, wanting to make things quite sure.

King Frank nodded. "Yes, He was there."

There was a collective sigh of relief up and down the table. The other place might have been devoid of almost everyone who made a civilised country, but if the Great Lion was there, it couldn't have been too bad a place for Father and Mother to come from.

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A/N: Yes, a sunny day and my muse was feeling cheerful... :) There'll be another fic with heaps of tragic foreboding and dramatic irony tomorrow – see you then?!