UPDATE!

1. A big thank you to those still reading despite slow updates. It makes a big difference to hear from you guys that you love this story as much as I do.

2. There are new chapters in the chronological order you may not have read: Chapters 5 & 7 (I know updates didn't go out for these chapters)

3. Every single chapter has been edited, particularly 9

4. I have been working (albeit slowly) and have developed a lot of new material for this story, unfortunately it is not chronological, so, lovely readers, you will not benefit from the fruits of my labor until a while from now. But rest assured I have not been doing nothing all this time.

5. I get a few of you who review regularly every time I come out with a new chapter, but it is a very few. I have a great deal of silent readers. I would CHALLENGE you to leave a review. Unless you are a writer yourself, you may not realize the encouragement that comes from hearing feedback or receiving reviews. It may not be why I write, but to know that my writing means something to someone besides myself is incredible.

On that note- on to the story.

We must begin with a simple defense. Lucy did not mean to do it. It was purely unintentional, accidental, and all those words which must be employed to beg forgiveness for our she may not have been repentant of the results, she certainly was not aware of the ramifications at the time the crime was committed.

She was a young girl with all the hopes, dreams, passions, and excitements her heart and soul could be expected to hold. There was one such confusion easily found written on her heart. It was scrawled messily, neatly, in loops, boldly. Its name was Peter. Peter, Peter Pan said the whispers, the echoes in the chambers of her heart. Sometimes, Blaze was even scrawled in the margins. But she was barely aware of this yet.

It hadn't quite occurred to her to discover it, and maybe had she spent a little more time talking with Susan, the idea would have been planted there already. But Lucy hadn't spent time talking with Susan the way sisters tend to do. She knew very little of the ways of young women, and very little of what it meant to feel for a boy, about a boy, any boy. To be so particularly inclined towards a specific boy meant nothing to her. She had no experience to inform her. She had no inkling of what inclination and fancy might lead to.

For Lucy, thoughts of Peter Pan were second nature, and were merely the way of things. She was highly unaware of her own emotions involved in the situation. All it took were a few (poorly chosen) words to jolt her from complacency. They shocked her into noticing, noticing him, noticing her, and feeling the full effects of everything she hadn't known was building inside of her.

The words were simple. The words were honest, true. Perhaps that is what made them so effective. The words were these:

"I like you."

This was how Lucy first learned to blush.

He did not know what he meant, or what he could mean, but suddenly, it seemed that she did. She understood a world that she hadn't before. She was happy.

She was happier, perhaps, than she had a right to be if she had understood that Peter Pan really did not mean anything beyond platonic. He meant what he said, but precisely what he had said. Lucy was bubbling over with joy, in a way that had been previously unknown to her. She was giddy, and she didn't know what to do with herself. She had to content herself with humming and skipping, but all that extra joy seemed to overflow and she glowed.

She hummed, skipped, danced, across the grassy field that separated the woods from the Cair. She lingered upon each cobbled step in the courtyard, each marble one in the palace. She sashayed down the halls and twirled into her bedchamber. She plopped into her bed, pulled up her covers, and settled into a blissful sleep. She overflowed with happiness, with joy, at the discovery of her inclination towards Peter.

It is always a fluttery, hopeful, and happy feeling at the very first. Those feelings would subside soon, but not yet, and she would begin to understand that matters of the heart are rarely so simple.

Meanwhile, Lucy slept deeply, peacefully through the night. She was unaware of the damage she had wrought. That would soon be remedied. It was brought to her attention nearly the moment she awoke.

Queen Lucy drifted awake from a beautiful dream of lying in a field of wildflowers, all of their fragrances mixing together in the loveliest way imaginable. She shifted on her mattress, savoring the comfort of the soft quilts around her. An odd texture brushed her face, and her eyes shot open.

Not a dream!

Lucy was surrounded on all sides by riotous colors in cheerful wildflowers. Her mouth dropped open in shock as she gazed around herself, and spoke aloud, "I've forgotten to return to the Cair, I must have fallen asleep. Oh, Susan will have my head!"

She jumped up, only to be shocked once more. This was her room in the Cair. For there was the window, the wardrobe, the vanity, and the door. Here she was sitting on the bed. It was her room, but it wasn't. Every inch of her floor was covered in a carpet of vibrant wildflowers. She dropped down to her feet and stood, turning and turning in wonder until she was dizzy.

Her forehead wrinkled in contemplation as she looked about herself, and then she exclaimed "How perfectly wonderful!" She cocked her head and murmured, "And odd."

Observing that she was still dressed in yesterday's outfit, Lucy burst from her rooms. This was something she had to show Ed! He might know what to make of it. In the midst of her excitement as she tore down the halls, Lucy noted the strange behavior of the castle inhabitants. There was an air of curiosity, and many were gathered in large groups, discussing some matter in whispers. In her flight to the library, skidding down the grand staircase, she pulled to a halt and backpedaled a few steps. For there stood both the High King and the Just King at the foot of the stairs.

She tugged on the sleeve of the latter's shirt and said breathlessly, "Ed! Ed...should have seen...all over...woke up...flowers!"

He looked over her head and past her. Both he and Peter were gazing up the staircase in the most perplexing manner. "Yes, I know. The flowers."

"You know? But how could you know?"

Edmund's eyes flickered to hers and he laughed lowly before grasping her shoulders and turning her around to face the staircase. "Look."

Lucy gasped. In her hurry she had been quite oblivious to her surroundings. Marching up the staircase in a bit of a haphazard path were wildflowers of every color.

"How did you do it, Lucy?"

Lucy turned in surprise to her eldest brother, "How did I do what?"

Sir Peter Wolf's-Bane gave her an exasperated look, "You cannot claim it was not you."

Bewildered, Lucy replied, "But-"

"It ends at your room. We checked, of course."

"I don't know…" she trailed off uncertainly.

"Have you looked outside today?" Edmund piped up.

"No?"

"Then look now. Towards the tree line."

So she did. And what should she behold but a strange, winding, looping pattern of flowers leading from the edge of the trees, across the grass, to the very steps of Cair Paravel.

Her eyes widened and she looked between her brothers, "It was me, then? But, how?"

"That is precisely what Pete would like to know," he slapped Peter's shoulder, "But I would like to venture a guess that you don't know how it happened either."

"I should have expected something like this," grumbled Peter, "Flowers in the middle of the castle."

"What we've discovered," Continued Edmund, adopting the tone of a tour guide, "is that the flowers act as if they have been planted in the stone. They are quite alive and regrow when we attempt to pluck them. There's no helping it. The flowers must stay."

"Truly?" asked Lucy.

"Truly." confirmed Edmund.

"What I want to know is how you always manage to come up with the one challenge I am absolutely unprepared for, Lu. We shall have to have the gardeners maintain these indoor flowers too now, I suppose. Ridiculous!"

"I don't mean to cause you trouble, my King."

Peter sighed, and gave her a small smile, "I know, Lu. You've certainly surprised me this time, though. I wonder if they will remain where they have already grown, or if the growth will have to be contained?" This last was muttered to himself.

She smiled brightly in return, "Oh, and you haven't seen my rooms, yet!"

"Your rooms?" He blinked rapidly.

She only turned to Edmund, reminded of her task, and began dragging him away. "That's what I came to tell you, Ed. You have to come see my room! There are flowers everywhere."

This would henceforth only be known by those involved as The Flower Incident. In fact, in much later years, Lucy would find that it had even been recorded in a history of their reign.