Disclaimer: Lucy Pevensie and all the characters and situations in the Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis and not to me. Dear Darreth is mine. Mine, I tell you!
COURAGE, DEAR HEART
There was nothing in Terebinthia that could compare to the glories of Narnia. Not her wide, white-sand beaches or her sheer, breathtaking cliffs or even the golden palace of the King himself. Despite being a native Terebinthian and the lord of one of her most prosperous dukedoms, Darreth had always thought so. It seemed especially true at Cair Paravel. Especially at Christmastime.
Perhaps it was the gathering of so many people and Animals and Magical Creatures all, from the smallest Mouse to the most impressive Centaur, dressed in their most festive finery. Perhaps it was Queen Susan's amazing ability to transform the already-magnificent Banquet Hall into a vision of wonder filled with holly and ivy dotted with red and white berries, with ornaments of silver and gold and snowflakes made of cobweb-fine lace, and a massive oaken table spread with every delicacy the kingdom could offer. Or perhaps, and he was beginning to be convinced that this was the most likely of all, it was merely because Queen Lucy made any room she entered blaze with light and warmth.
He could hardly believe she was there with him now, that one of his hands clasped hers and the other rested on her slender waist as they swirled across the floor in the graceful rhythm of the dance. Only in magical Narnia would there be a Faun playing panpipes, a solemn Centaur keeping time on the drum, and a Dryad singing a winsome song and rustling her shimmering leaves in accompaniment. Only in Narnia was the Queen a sunny-hearted girl with golden hair and laughing blue eyes who rode to war when she pleased and danced barefoot in the fresh grass under a Mayblossom moon, who swam with Mermaids and soared with Gryphons and spoke face to face with the Great Lion Aslan. Only in Narnia–
"What are you gaping at?"
He blinked at her. "I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?"
Those blue eyes were laughing at him at this very moment.
"Gaping," she said. "You. Why."
His face turned fiery hot. "I was just thinking how beautiful–"
Her expression was kind and warm despite the teasing, and he could tell she had not the least idea how absolutely adorable she was. That was a considerable part of her charm.
"Er, uh," he stammered, "um, how beautiful the Banquet Hall looks tonight."
"I love Christmas," she said, but then she sighed and there was the slightest bit of sadness in her eyes. "As long as everyone's home."
He held her just the slightest bit closer until the dance ended, and then he escorted her to the balcony that overlooked the silver sea. Her sea.
It was cold but clear and calm, and it was not unpleasant to stand there in the white and silver night, especially with her nestled under his arm. It was certainly nicer here than under the watchful glare of her Centaur general.
"Are you sure you don't want your cloak?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"I was getting a bit too warm in there with the fire and everyone dancing so close." She smiled, almost overcoming that touch of sadness, and pressed a little closer. "I like it better out here with you."
"But I can tell, my lady, despite your merriment that there's still something lacking to make this a happy Christmas."
She shrugged a little. "It's just that I was hoping Edmund would be home tonight for the Christmas Eve ball. He promised to try, but then one of his Hawks came in from Anvard this morning with the news that there was rough weather in the mountain pass and he would most likely be delayed." Again she sighed. "I know he'll be all right. He always is. It's just not the same without him here, and he swore to Peter he'd be here for the wedding. How can he miss his own brother's wedding?"
"Sometimes these things can't be helped."
She didn't say anything for a moment, and then she put on a brave smile. "I know. It's just that he's gone, and Peter is so distracted with Linnet and getting married, and Susan's got her hands full with Christmas and the wedding at the same time, I just–" There was just the tiniest tremor in her voice. "I'm glad you have time for me."
Her face was turned up to his, her lips soft and inviting. He leaned just slightly closer and then pulled back. How could he take advantage of her just now? She had come to him seeking a friend's comfort and reassurance, not a lover's kiss. She could never think of him as anything more than a brother, he was certain.
"I always have time for you, Queen Lucy."
For a moment she still smiled up at him, and then she turned to look out over the snowy beach.
"After we were all crowned, I stood on this balcony with Mr. Tumnus and watched Aslan walking down there. He was there and then He wasn't." Her fingers tightened into the back of Darreth's velvet tunic. "It made me cry."
"You were such a little girl then, you know," he murmured.
"I suppose I was. But then I realized I didn't have to see Him to know He was with me, and that if I kept looking for Him I would see Him again. And if I couldn't see Him, I could hear Him whisper to me. 'Courage, Dear Heart,' that's what He always tells me. That's the only reason I can bear for Peter and Edmund to do what they do to keep Narnia safe, knowing how terribly dangerous it is most of the time. It's the only reason I can be sure Edmund will be back. Sometime."
Darreth held her closer. "I'm sure he will. Maybe by tomorrow."
"Even though they know I can take perfectly good care of myself, he and Peter are so sweet about looking after me."
"It could be nothing but a great honor and a privilege to have that duty," Darreth murmured, and once more he felt himself drawn toward her.
And once more he drew away and glanced back into the whirl of light and music in the Banquet Hall. If he were so bold (and so insane) as to profane her lips with his own, no doubt General Orieus would, on behalf of the kingdom and of the Kings her brothers, dispatch him with a single, swift blow of his sword.
"I'm glad Peter and Linnet are getting married," Queen Lucy said after another moment, and Darreth was thankful that she hadn't realized how close he had come to making an utter fool of himself. "I hope Susan and Edmund will find their own mates soon. They deserve to be as happy as Peter is."
"Don't you want to get married?" He cleared his throat, hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt. "Someday, I mean."
"Maybe," she said wistfully. "Someday. If I can ever find someone who's brave enough to face down my brothers and Oreius and anyone else who might try to intimidate him. Someone who loves Lucy Pevensie and not Queen Lucy of Narnia." She looked up into his eyes. "I think I know one man like that."
Did she–? Could she–? Was it possible that she–?
"Queen Lucy," he stammered. "Lucy." He looked back into the Banquet Hall once more, making sure Oreius wasn't still glaring at them, and then turned abruptly back. "Lucy–"
Somehow he had misjudged when he turned, and now his lips were touching hers. He jerked back as if he had been stung.
"Queen– Queen Lucy, I beg you to forgive me. I would never presume to take such an inexcusable liberty. I assure you, I have the utmost respect for Your Majesty, and if Your Majesty were ever to do me the signal honor of entertaining my suit, I would declare my intentions before your royal brothers, and– and–"
Her arms were around his neck now and she pulled him close again, still with her lips turned up to his.
"There is time and plenty for all that later on," she breathed. "If you love me."
"Oh, Lucy." He wrapped her in his arms and pressed his cheek to hers. "Of course I love you. Desperately. And have for the longest time. But your brothers, General Oreius, what if they–"
"Courage, Dear Heart" she murmured, and she trailed soft kisses along his cheek and down to his mouth. "Dear Darreth. Dear–"
He silenced her with the fiery kiss he could no longer hold in check and followed that with another and then another, until she was clinging to him, unable to stand on her own.
General Oreius might very well kill him for his impertinence, but just at the moment it seemed a small price to pay.
Author's Note: Even as hideously busy as I've been, I didn't want to miss having a Christmas story this year. For all you Lucy/Darreth shippers, here it is at last. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you're wondering what's going on with the Royal Wedding and why Edmund isn't home. Stay tuned!
Merry Christmas and long live Aslan!
