DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN – DON'T CLAIM TO OWN – ANYTHING BUT THIS PLOT
It was the morning of her eighth birthday, and the young princess Trilliana of Narnia was playing in the garden of Cair Paravel where she had grown up. This was to be her last morning of being aloud to play like this, so she was making the most of it. Across the garden she could see her father, the twenty-four year old High King watching her and talking with one or another of the members of his court.
Trilliana had hardly known her mother, who had died when she was three years old, and she had been brought up as a bit of a renegade in the castle, running around and pretty much ruling her own life. The only person who seemed to have any time for her was her aunt, the Queen Lucy, but even she was often busy with her own things these days, since she'd reached twenty years old and realised that she couldn't waste her life around the castle much longer. Her other aunt, the Queen Susan, was always off on some state trip or other to Calormen and the home of the Tisroc across the southern desert beyond Archenland, but Trilliana only knew of these places from stories. The furthest south she had been was to the edge of Archenland when her father had brought her with him to deliver her mothers body to her family in the south. But Trilliana had only been three at the time, and so had not really understood much of what was going on. All she could really remember was the horses and being given the great honour of being carried by a talking horse along the pass, and then trying to thank him but getting her words all muddled up. She supposed it was because she was young, but in reality it was because she had never had much time put into her. She could talk okay at that time, but she hadn't been tutored in how to address the different creatures and treated him like she did anyone else. Which, truth be told, wasn't particularly politely, but then she had been brought up as the only child in a palace.
"Trilliana, your highness. Your father would like to talk to you." Trilliana looked up from the grass she was playing at her nanny, and then nodded. To another child the idea of a nurse being sent across a garden to tell her to go to her own father might have seemed strange but to Trilliana it was fact. Her father was a quiet man, often lost in his own world, and he had never had much time for her. People said it was because she was the spitting image of her mother, but she only knew that from listening at closed doors. It was true though, that when her mother had been alive he had been the most loving and caring father any girl could wish for, but that after she had died he had drawn inside himself like a crab into its shell.
"You asked for me daddy?" She asked standing before him, and was surprised to see a twinkle in his eye she had rarely seen before, but she didn't have much time to ponder on this because seconds later she was swept up into his arms and he was holding her tightly, crying into her shoulder and smiling at the same time.
"Trilly? Is that really you?" He asked, looking at her through his tear stained eyes and using the name she had almost forgotten about, the name she used to be called before her mother died.
"Yes. It's me Daddy. Your same Trilliana. Have I changed that much today that you didn't recognise me, for I fear you see me every day, if only from a distance."
"No, my daughter. You have not changed, it is I that has changed." He held her tight again. "How old are you today, my little princess? For I'm sorry but my mind seems to have been gone these past few years. I remember little since your mother died. How many months has it been?" Trilliana looked shocked, but seconds later her aunt Lucy was beside her, talking to her softly.
"Trill, could you give me and your father some time please." She frowned at the look on Peters face. "Oh please Peter. She's your daughter I know, but she doesn't need to recount something like this to her father who seems to have forgotten about her." Peter looked ashamed of himself, but nodded and gestured Trilliana away.
"Go on darling. I'll call you back when I've had a little talk with your auntie."
"Okay." She replied. "But daddy, I'm eight years old. She's been 'Aunt' Lucy for years now, not 'auntie'."
"Eight?" he asked as she ran off to play down the garden by the big oak tree. "How much have I missed, Lu? How much has changed?" he reached out his hand and touched her softly. "I hardly recognise you, Lucy. And my baby, my little Trilly. She's not so little anymore. She's a grown girl."
"I know." Lucy hugged him tightly. "Trilliana hasn't been called Trilly since Penelope died, and since you stopped noticing her. She's lived her life running about the castle and doing nothing but the opposite to that which she was told. The only thing that will make her behave is the idea that you might want to talk to her, that you might acknowledge her existence. Since Penelope died five years ago you've been in mourning, the only thing that's been able to wake you is when someone has needed you for court reasons. Even your own daughters fifth birthday didn't work though we had a huge party for her. As you can tell we've given up on the party scene now and Trilliana celebrates her birthday playing in the garden on her own, waiting only for her father to wake up and talk to her."
"Her birthday?" Peter asked, returning Lucys hug.
"Her eighth." Lucy replied. "She's starting her archery and astronomy training tomorrow morning. I'm hoping she'll show your and Edmunds prowess when it comes to sword fighting but Susan would prefer if she didn't learn. She got her first horse for her birthday this year. A one year old white called Beaversdam."
"Beaversdam?" Peter asked, and then it dawned. "You named him, didn't you. For Mr. And Mrs. Beaver. How are they both?"
"Mr Beaver died the winter just gone, his wife in the spring."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Peter shook his head and let a single tear slip down his weathered cheek, remembering those that were lost. "But what of Thumnus? Is he still with us?"
Lucy nodded, a small smile playing across her face at the thought of her oldest and dearest friend "He is, though he can't get down to the palace as much as he would like now, for he isn't a young fawn, and the cold winter has taken its toll on him. He's not as agile as he once was"
"I'm sorry." Peter muttered again, his eyes looking around and seeing for the first time in what seemed like an age.
"I knew you would be. But maybe its time you spent some time with your daughter? She's missed her old dad. And I've missed him too."
"Thank you, Lucy. I'm glad I'm back to my old self. And that I've awoken in time to see my baby sister and my baby girl grow up their final steps."
"Hmm."
"Oh, and while I'm thinking?"
"Yes."
"Happy twenty-first Lu."
Okay, so I'm giving no explanation to Peters head state after his wife died, cause this is Narnia and weird and wonderful things are always happening. And concerning that Lucy and Trilliana both have the same birthday, I thought that would be a nice touch to finish this chapter, and its going to come into the story a bit later too. Reviews appreciated. Love and *hugs*
The One And Only
Stargazing Maiden.