UPDATE 4/6/21: A few hours ago, someone named jaeden1112 left me the following review: "Great story; I love how it was given. Good job writer! If you have some great stories like this one, you can publish it on Novel Star, just submit your story to hardy novelstar. top". I was suspicious of it, so I did a Google search. Turns out reviews like this are being posted all over the place. If someone tells you to publish something on Novel Star, don't do it, and don't reply to the review. Just click the yellow triangle and report the review for abuse.
The banquet hall of Cair Paravel shook with noise. "All hail King Peter! All hail King Edmund! All hail Queen Susan! All hail Queen Lucy!"
The pillars and walls glowed gold in the setting sun, almost as golden as the majestic Lion who stood before them. "Narnia, Narnia, Narnia...rejoice! Winter is over. Spring has come. The evil time is over and done. And when all is done here, make haste! Go into the world and tell everyone the good news."
And the crowd cheered again. "Hail Aslan!" said a fox. "I beseech all Narnians to join me in a toast!"
All the glasses and goblets went up, sparkling in the low sun.
"To High King Peter the Magnificent," said the fox, "who will bring us splendor and glory...to King Edmund the Just, who will bring us righteousness and truth...to Queen Susan the Gentle, who will bring us kindness and peace...to Queen Lucy the Valiant, who will bring us courage and love. And to the King of all High Kings...whose reign will never end, and whose sacrifice for King Edmund will never be forgotten."
The banquet hall answered with "ALL HAIL ASLAN!" And there was such an ovation, one standing outside the castle would have thought the whole world had risen up in praise.
Just as quickly as it began, it ended. Everyone went back to mouthfuls of food and draughts of wine. All were sharing battle stories and boasting about each other's medals and baubles. But as the plates were refilled once and twice over, the conversations took a new turn. "Oh, I do hope he'll let Their Majesties make an alliance with the Far North," said a squirrel. "How many fancy dress balls can one enjoy without getting utterly weary of them?" said a centaur. "I say, I fancy a good roll in the grass again," said a horse; "I could do that until I die. In fact, I think that's what I'll do..."
And it broke Aslan's heart. They had forgotten what he asked of them. Two hours since he coronated the Kings and Queens, and nobody was thinking about telling the world of his sacrifice. They were all deep in food and wine, talking about how Narnia would be flung into a golden age.
A while later, the fox looked as if he had something to say. With a dizzy chuckle, he stumbled out of his chair and meandered to Aslan. The vulpine tried to look dignified, but his pawfalls were a little wobbly and his smile a little too giddy for that. "I'll tell you, Sir—" He let out a hiccup and gave a cheeky smile. "I was waiting for a feast like this. Nice little reward after living in all that snow."
The Lion nodded.
"Anyway, Sir...just between you and me...your sacrifice at the Stone Table—heh, heh—now that was an impressive ruse."
"Child, it was not a ruse. It had to be done."
"Well, whatever it was, it worked. You got us our Kings and Queens. I reckon that's what matters at the end of the day."
The Lion's face grew even sadder. "This wasn't just for you."
"Oh, I know that. 'Adam's flesh and Adam's bone,' 'the evil time' and all—I know about the prophecy. Anyway, it was rather clever of you. The Witch was going to kill the Son of Adam. But then you offered your life; you pretended to die just so she'd think she'd won."
"Child, is that what you think happened?"
The fox started to lose his smile. "Well...isn't it?"
"Child, the Son of Adam was not a maneuver. He was a traitor—as was his brother, as were his sisters, as were all who ignored the Laws of the Emperor. By the Deep Magic, all traitors are to be sentenced to death. But by the Deeper Magic, an innocent could in the traitor's place, and death was undone and time would start to work backwards."
The fox looked even more bewildered at that, as much as he could when he was all glazed over.
"All I ever wanted was to call you my friends," said the Lion. "All I ever wanted was to know and be known by you."
An uneasy smile went up the fox's muzzle. "Well—er—I reckon that was jolly nice of you, friend. I am curious, though: Do you think you could pull a trick like that again? If you did that to Calormen, we could finally conquer those ragheads."
"Child," said the Lion in his softest voice yet—"who am I?"
The fox looked insulted. "Well, you're Aslan. The king of the wood. The son of the Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Don't we all know the king of beasts? It's you—the Lion, the Great Lion!"
"But who do you say I am?"
A long pause filled the space, and the fox began to fidget. "Well...you could give a chap a little time to think—"
A wolf called out to him. "Come on, cousin, stop blathering! It's the first dance!"
The fox didn't wait to swing away. "On my way! And hey—get me another glass!" With an awkward chuckle, he turned back to Aslan. "Beg pardon, Sir. I'll think about what you said, eh?"
But the fox wouldn't think about it. Most of the Talking Beasts wouldn't, not even after their heads had cleared and everyone got used to the new regime. What the fox said in a tipsy moment was what everyone thought: The Kings and Queens were on the throne, and bother all the details. Of course, Aslan knew the Kings and Queens would think about it, and they would have to remind Narnia of it now and then—but soon enough, even they would hear the story and look all blank and confused.
As the fox disappeared into the crowd, the orchestra struck up a tune, and the Kings and Queens began their first dance. Soon the fauns and dryads joined in, and the centaurs did their own clip-clopping jig. All the animals were singing along, and half were up on their hind feet, clapping their forepaws to the ancient Narnian rhymes. In the dance and song, the pageantry and play, the splendor and majesty of the Kings and Queens, no one noticed that Aslan had slipped away.
Narnia had everything they ever wanted.
And that was all that mattered.
THE END
* Credit where credit's due: The title of this fic is one letter off from "A Fox and the Sun," a song by Hideo Kobayashi.