Prompt #14: Tell a tale of the day all of Narnia celebrates love, couples, and chocolate.

Disclaimer: I may have a specific Doctor Who accent stuck in my head, so I don't think they'll come across Cockney English, but I'm just sayin' they picked up a bit of an accent from the animals they're around. Sorry one and all. Regardless, nothing in here's mine.

"Helen?"

"In here, love." Queen Helen didn't pay much attention as her husband pushed the door open behind her; she was too busy surveying the third attempt at a crib. The Dwarves had made the first one, but apparently they hadn't quite conveyed the frailty newborn babies had, for it was made of gold and iron and sharp edges. A helpful Elephant had offered a crib as a gift, but it was a pile of mud the Elephant offered to keep wet by daily showerings. Queen Helen had quite the time getting all traces of it out of the new room. She had, in the end, fashioned her own crib, asking for four smooth boards of all the same length and a bottom, forming a box, and then filling it with the soft clothes the newer creatures—the Dryads—wove. It wouldn't be big enough after a year, but it was just the thing for a baby.

One strong arm encircled her shoulders from behind, and she leaned gratefully against her husband.

"Is the babe kickin' up a ruckus?"

"Nay, he's been as good as gold today."

"I still say we don't know it's a he."

"The first born Narnian King. I know it's a boy."

"Well, I won't be one to disagree." The two stood in silence for a few moments more, looking at the place they'd lay their firstborn.

"I thought you were goin' to the meadows today," the Queen said at length.

"I went for a specific reason. And when I got what I came for, I came home."

"And what would that be?" the Queen asked, turning in the King's arm.

"Flowers." King Frank brought out his other arm from behind his back, and in his hand was a profusion of purple, deep scarlet, and white flowers. The purple flowers had the shape and long petals of lilies, freckled with small specks of black; there were three, and around each were two or three scarlet flowers, each with two petals, one above and one below, mirroring each other in the shape of a D. The white flowers were small, perhaps six or seven to a stalk, nesting amid the colours like stars.

"Oh, they're lovely!" Queen Helen took them with gentle fingers—the King had cut the stalks long—and took them to her kitchen, setting them in a crystal pitcher the Dwarves had made. (Indeed, one of the Dwarf dame enjoyed making things for the kitchen so often the Queen had needed to request more cabinets be made.) She set them on the counter, bringing her face close as she smelled their rich scent.

King Frank, watching, thought she was far more beautiful than the flowers.

"And you went all the way to the meadows, just for flowers?"

King Frank shrugged, a little awkwardly. "I thought the day deserved them."

"The day?"

"The Centaurs are studyin' the heavens, and learnin' to mark the time. In London's calendar, we'd be celebratin' the feast of St. Valentine."

Queen Helen stilled. Then she straightened, though her fingers reached out to gently caress the flowers. "You proposed on St. Valentine's day."

"I asked you out the first time, too. I thought the day deserved markin', even in a new world."

She smiled, eyes looking into memories. "You brought me flowers then, too. Your great, big, half-dirty hat in your hand, from workin' the day through, just to get enough to buy me flowers." She touched one of the purple lily-like flowers.

"I was worried you'd say no."

"Nay, I wanted to be yours since the day you missed a fare to rest your horse. There was kindness in you." She looked at her husband. "Kindness fit for a king, for it was kindness with strength, too."

"You said yes the minute I asked." King Frank was smiling, his eyes seeing what his wife saw. He took a step inside the kitchen. "I don't know when I was more nervous, when I asked the first time, or when I asked for you to be my wife."

"Oh, definitely the first. You knew I loved you for the second."

"But a man gets nervous, asking a question like that. I brought flowers that time too."

"Little ones from a beggar-child, and you bought enough to feed her family. I was glad for the good that you did, getting those flowers." She glanced back at the bouquet. "I'm right glad you didn't let that day go by forgotten, even if my own head was too occupied with a baby's crib to remember."

"I like it being a tradition. Every year, I'll bring you flowers, just like I did those two times."

"These are far grander."

"These are for a Queen."

Her face looked a little weary. "You've ever been fit for a King," she remarked quietly. "I came to this world in my washin' clothes, nary a thought of other worlds. And I'd give up our whole world, just for that glimpse, lookin' in the Lion's eyes, but Frank, I've got a Dwarf dame who won't take no for answer, an Elephant a bit upset because our new baby won't sleep in mud, and a mind that forgets St Valentines. What kind of mind and heart is that for a Queen?"

King Frank, being a wise husband of several years, did not laugh at his wife's plaintive tone. But she too was wise as a wife, and caught the twitch in his mouth, and started laughing herself.

"What problems! A year into our marriage, I would have said such things were blessings! Too poor to afford a crystal pitcher, too poor to think we could have kids, and lookin' forward to St Valentines because the days were hard in between holidays."

King Frank took his wife's arm and steered her to the chairs. "The entire world we rule comes to our doors, and it's not me they're seekin' out. Every mother says she makes mistakes, but I reckon that's part of parenthood. Whatever you're doin', they keep comin' back, even just to spend an hour in the kitchen the Dwarf dame loves, and I'd say that's the mark of a fine Queen." He put his hand in his pocket. "I've one more surprise, but I'm not sure it's a pleasant one. I was walking past the new tree-folk-"

"Dryads."

"Them, the Dryads, and they were turin' up earth, gettin' ready to eat." He brought his hand out, and in it were two pieces of what appeared to be crumbling chocolate,* carefully wrapped in a handkerchief. "The moles were helpin' them, with the shovels the Dwarfs made. The tree-folk eat the earth, and that don't sound fit for humans, but it looks as like chocolate as I'm likely to find in this world."

Helen looked at it, her own laughter growing. "Flower and earth. Well, most things are worth a try once." She reached over, unwrapping one piece. She brought it to her lips as her husband lifted the other, and they took a bite together.

Instantly they both spat it back out, blowing raspberries as they tried to get the taste off their tongues. Then followed a startled second where they both tried to recover, and then King Frank's very pregnant wife began laughing. She laughed so hard she leaned against him, and he began laughing too.

"That," she gasped, when she got some of her breath back, "there's no point in tryin' to make a tradition out of that." She put her hand on her husband's cheek. "But I'll take the love that brought the nasty thing home any day."

*Kudos to you if you recognised this! I got it from Prince Caspian, where Edmund tries a piece and it tastes "not at all nice."