I remember seeing an interview with Georgie Henley talking about how Lucy was being made the youngest again, and though you DO see bits of her frustration, I think that her indignation at being ignored so many times would be a lot more evident. Especially as she has a whole night to mull over it alone.
Lucy's head jolted up, and she blinked sleep out of her drooping eyes. She sighed in frustration. She had fallen asleep again despite her promise to herself that she wouldn't. Looking around the abandoned Stone Table room, she stood and stretched her arms, pacing toward the center of the room and the ancient Table.
She placed her hand gently on the Table, remembering what had happened here so many nights ago. Tears pricked her eyes as she gazed up at the great Lion.
"Oh, Aslan, I tried." The words echoed hollowly, and Lucy felt as if they weren't good enough, as if her actions hadn't been good enough.
She hiked up her skirts and crawled onto the Stone Table, remembering Aslan's lifeless body on that cold night.
Or have you forgotten who really defeated the White Witch?
Her own words resonated in her mind, and she painfully recalled Peter's deliberate decision to ignore them. She couldn't ever remember being so angry and disappointed with Peter. He was turning his back on everything that had made them Kings and Queens in the first place. And Lucy knew that in his heart of hearts, he knew what he was doing was wrong.
Lucy hated the idea of the night raid. She absolutely abhorred it. If only they had just waited longer for Aslan…she had hoped that He would come roaring in and save the day, but as He had reminded her in her dream, things could never happen the same way twice. Lucy wished that they could. Last time had been so wonderful.
She traced her fingers over the etchings in the stone of the Table and huffed indignantly, her fingers flying to the hilt of her dagger.
Despite her reservations about the night raid, she had had no intentions of being left behind. She was a queen of Narnia. She had ridden to battle before, and Lucy fully intended to do it again. She had expected protests. They always protested, and despite her furious indignation, deep down, Lucy couldn't help but be relieved at the familiar argument. Peter and Susan had changed in so many ways, yet in this they remained infuriatingly consistent. Still, she had never expected to be thoroughly left behind.
During their reign, she had often remained at Cair with Susan as their brothers went to war. While Lucy could hold her own on a battlefield, her place was with the people of Narnia. Now, though, even Susan had gone to battle, leaving Lucy behind to spend the night re-playing horrid 'what-if' scenes in her mind. She gulped, trying to quell her anxiety with a quiet prayer to Aslan.
A small calm filled her, but she was quickly overwhelmed by her pressing fear and strong sense of guilt. If only she had found Aslan sooner! Perhaps none of this would have been necessary. Her eyes darted back to the great carving of Aslan, and she jumped to her feet, trying to shake herself out of her downward spiral.
Her hands twitching anxiously, Lucy was overcome by the strong desire to do something. Feeling Aslan's eyes on her back, Lucy heaved a deep breath, resolving to find him, right then. She lifted her skirts, running out of the How and into the large expanse of grass.
The forest loomed black in the distance, and the grass swayed as a gentle breeze rustled through the trees. Lucy was momentarily pleased to find the moon covered by clouds, noting that the raid would have much better chances on an obscure night.
Hands quivering, she fearfully remembering that Edmund was to go first. She shook her head as she pushed through the grass, determined not to perseverate on things she could not control. What she could do, though, was find Aslan.
A shout from the How stopped her, and she turned around reluctantly, accurately guessing what was coming.
"Queen Lucy!"
Glenstorm's wife galloped up to her, a stern, maternal look on her face. "Your Majesty, where are you going?"
Lucy set her jaw, looking very much like her eldest brother for a moment. "As I wasn't allowed to go on the raid with my brothers and sister, as is my right, I'm going to do something I can do. I'm going to find Aslan."
The centaur's nostrils widened, and she snorted in amazement. "Queen Lucy, it is much too dangerous. Telmarine soldiers have been spotted in the forest. We must wait for the men to return."
"And Susan." Lucy muttered under her breath.
The centaur generously overlooked the comment, and gestured back toward the How. "Come, milady, we will wait inside. When the others return, we can discuss this plan with High King Peter."
At the mention of her brother, Lucy's hands flew to her hips angrily. "I am just as much of a queen as he is a king. We ruled together. All four of us." She stood her ground stubbornly, eyes narrowed at the centaur. She was tired of being seen as a child while her brothers and sister were revered as ancient legends. If she remembered correctly, she had found Narnia in the first place. Not them. She kept her pointed look on her companion. "Besides, Peter would never approve me going alone, and I can't wait for Edmund to get back, so I'm going now."
Sensing the root of Lucy's anger, the centaur snorted gently. "Queen Lucy, when the others return you and your cordial will be greatly needed. If they return before you've encountered Aslan, the mortally wounded will be without aid."
Lucy felt herself caving, as she grudgingly recognized the truth in the statement. Flashing a marvelous glare at the centaur, she whisked past with all the grace of the queen. "Yes, I suppose you're right. One of them might need me." And as she reluctantly returned to the How, Lucy felt her heart sink. One of them, one of her siblings might need her cordial. She wandered aimlessly through the How, acknowledging those she came across with a slight inclination of her head. She stopped in front of the painting of Edmund being stabbed by the Witch.
In the dark room, her face paled as she thought of all of the times she had watched one of her siblings struggle for life before being calmed by the saving grace of the FireFlower juice. She did not relish the idea of reliving one of those moments.
Her fingers lightly travelled over their story, stopping briefly on an etching of herself and Mr. Tumnus near the lamppost. She managed a small smile, before moving on to the later aspects of their reign.
She sighed heavily, her fingers tracing her armored shoulders as she sat beside Edmund, preparing for battle at Anvard. Edmund, the one who'd always seen her as his equal.
Lucy loved Peter and Susan dearly. Peter was her protector, her brother, her king, and Susan was a confidante, a mother, and a role model, yet it was Edmund who was her friend. Edmund who saw Lucy as the queen she had been—the queen she still was. She would always be his little sister, this she knew, but Edmund had not forgotten that she hadn't always been twelve.
In their earlier argument, Susan and Peter had tag-teamed Lucy, claiming that she was too little, too young. They seemed to have forgotten that Lucy had experienced more battles than the Gentle Susan. Lucy had protested, ignoring the voice of reason in her mind stating that she was, in fact, too little. She had only yielded after Edmund had gently advised her that perhaps it would be best if she stayed behind this time.
She had cried then, feeling utterly abandoned by all.
Their parting had been awful. Still upset, she had tried to shove it away, knowing very well that there was no place for anger and selfishness in a time of battle.
They had repeated a routine perfected over the years, although the fear that pricked Lucy's heart was sharper than it had been in many years. She had complete faith in her siblings, yet all of them were still children. A fact they all seemed so eager to forget.
Susan had hugged her tightly, telling her that they would be back in no time, and that if she went to sleep, when she awoke, they'd likely be back. That's when Lucy had promised herself she would stay awake. If she couldn't physically support her siblings, she intended to do so mentally. And that involved being awake. Lucy could tell Susan was scared, and she had kissed her sister encouragingly on the cheek, telling Susan that she would show those Telmarines what a Narnian queen could do.
Peter had hugged her brusquely, the tension between them still strong, yet when she buried her head in his tunic, she had felt his arms loosen as his chin came to rest in her hair. "I'm sorry, Lu." he had said, and Lucy had known then that he was trying so very hard to change. She forgave him. Peter was only trying to do what he had always done: protect his country and his family. Only now, he was doing it a different way. As she always had, she chose to trust him.
Her parting with Edmund had been the most difficult. She couldn't help but feel betrayed that her youngest brother hadn't supported her as he had always done. Sensing her pain, Edmund had swept her into a bone-crushing hug, telling her that he'd be sure to bring Peter and Susan back to her safely and that afterwards, the two of them would find Aslan. It was Edmund's own way of apologizing.
She had told them that she would pray for them all night. It was all she could do.
Now, standing back in the Stone Table room, Lucy stared faithfully up at Aslan, willing Him to keep her brothers, sister, and the whole of their army safe. She asked Him to be there, even if He couldn't be there. Peter may not have fully acknowledged it yet, but the only way they would successfully put Caspian on the throne was with the help of Aslan.
She returned to her spot on the Stone Table, feeling a dreadful sort of melancholy settle over her.
She wished that they had followed Aslan in the first place. She wished that she had really seen Aslan as more than a dream. She wished things hadn't turned out like this. But most of all, Lucy wished that everyone around her would realize that she wasn't just a little girl. That she was a queen in her own right.
The clink of metal startled her out of her reverie, and she started, hope blooming in her chest as she realized they had returned. Perhaps everything would be all right now! At the sound of her eldest brother's voice, swiftly followed by Susan's, Lucy felt an immense sense of relief well up within her. As she reached the entrance to the How, she felt her spirits sink again as she realized the voices were yelling. At each other.
She ran into early morning sunlight, blinking spots out of her eyes as Edmund's voice sliced through the cacophony.
"Stop it!"
They were safe. Grieved and angry, but out of harm's way.
As her brother and Caspian stewed, Lucy raced between them, reaching for her cordial as she sunk down beside an injured Trumpkin.
Quickly dripping a small trickle of juice into his mouth, Lucy held her breath and waited. When the dwarf began spluttering and cursing, Lucy exchanged a relieved glance with Edmund.
"Thank-you, my Dear Little Friend." The gratitude warmed her heart, and she sniffed back tears as she pulled him into a hug. He had called her 'little,' yet there had been respect and admiration in his tone. Trumpkin saw her as a friend and a queen.
As Lucy returned her Gift to its pouch, she lifted her chin determinedly, a steely look entering her eyes. Edmund, noticing the familiar look, smiled wryly. He helped her to her feet, and Trumpkin stumbled to his own, accepting Lucy's proffered hand.
The others may have forgotten, but, little or not, Lucy was a Queen of Narnia.
She would always be a Queen of Narnia.
Aslan
Okay, so I know Lucy is already there to meet them in the movie, but it worked better if she wasn't. I wasn't too sure about this after writing it, but after a re-reading of it, it really grew on me. Please review and let me know your thoughts!