Disclaimer: I of course don't own Narnia or any of the LWW characters. This is done purely for fun. As background, this takes place about 10 years after LWW,so Peter is about 23, Susan about 22, Edmund about 20, and Lucy ajust-learning-to-love 19
KNIGHTS OF THE GOLDEN AGE
In the tenth year of the reign of Queen Lucy, King Edmund, Queen Susan, and the High King Peter they turned their attention outward, now that the remnants of the Witch's army were slain and the giants in the north were defeated. Although it was normal for the court at Anvard in southern Archenland to keep an ambassador at Cair Paravel, that spring saw the arrival of four other legations almost all at once. From the nearest neighbor Galma came three square-rigged caravels commanded by Jemian, son of the reigning duke. From the Seven Isles came five ships of the tartaned denizens thereof, led by Prince Tavish, son of the king. From the far-off Lone Islands came three galleons with tall lateen sails, under Prince-Commodore Ronal, for even since those islands had come under the Narnia crown some established families maintained royal titles. And from Terebinthia came four of their three-decked galleasses, led by Crown Prince Korrigan.
Although all these guests made somewhat trying times for the kitchen and serving staff, the days at Cair Paravel became a happy and productive, if tiring, round of meetings, discussions, hunts, competitions, and other events with the princely ambassadors, all of whom wanted to know more about these young sovereigns who had vanquished the White Witch, as well as discuss trade, alliances, and other nation-to-nation matters. The evenings featured gala feasts and promenades, at which the handsome princes and their officers alternated the pleasure of escorting the two queens. Queen Susan sang a lilting ballad of springtime, accompanied by the royal house's old friend Faun Tumnus on his pipes one evening, after which Prince Ronal, blessed with a fine baritone voice, sang the rousing lay of Gwydian the Mariner and how he and his fleet had swept the Calormenes from the seas. Although King Edmund was not blessed with the ability to sing, he entertained the assembled guests with sly jokes and funny stories one evening. And although Lucy was also unfortunately not blessed with the confidence to sing other than for her family, she of course stood up one evening and told again (the Narnians and Archenlanders had all heard it before, but they all wanted it once more) the tale of the Wardrobe and how she and her siblings had come to rule Narnia. Initially the guests rallied to the luminous Queen Susan, always considered the beauty of the house, but many gravitated after that to Queen Lucy, whose sincere smile, sparkling laugh, openness, and merry ways led them on.
She was of course duty-bound to do her part in the entertaining, and willing to be friends with all the princes and lords, whatever their intentions might have been toward her, frequently going riding with one, taking tea with another, and letting yet another escort her to the evening festivities all in one day. Though she found all of them charming and pleasant, it was during an evening playing a Terebinthian version of chess with Crown Prince Korrigan (the same as ours save for the use of a six-sided board and a few additional pieces, colored blue and white, made of either marble or some stone not found in our world) that he revealed himself to be a scholar as well as a warrior, and also a man of faith, who from his childhood had followed Aslan's ways. Far from tiring of hearing of her experiences in the presence of Aslan, he asked her to tell him more and more that she had not told that evening. She was only too willing to share them with someone new who believed as strongly as she. Their conversations deepened as they spent more and more time together, walking, riding, hunting, playing chess, testing their archery skills, or just talking, which more than once they did till the moon was well past its height and the candles in the sitting-room had nearly burned themselves out when one or another of her siblings came to check on them Edmund said nothing, for he was the closest in age (and in many ways the wisest) and saw how happy Lucy was with Korrigan. However, Peter challenged Korrigan to another game of chess (which it would have been considered bad form to decline) and Susan gently suggested that it would not do for either of them to be too tired the next day. Though the subjects varied from the grand to the trivial, none were too big or too small. By the time the time came for the ambassadors to return home, it was clear Lucy had made a friend for life in Korrigan and he in her.
On the day before the ambassadors were to depart, the High King had planned to send them off with a grand tournament and test of arms, and Lucy had granted Korrigan the favor of carrying her scarf. However, ere challengers and comers could take the field, a green-cloaked messenger from the north came dashing through the gates, insisting he must see the High King immediately.
"Your Majesty, Narnia is invaded by a host of goblins from the northeast, seeking only destruction. If they are not stopped they will be at your gates before a week passes!"
Unperturbed, the High King simply ordered "Summon Peridan, Glarian, and Willin." As the three lord generals, still in their tournament armor, bowed before him not half an hour later, he outlined the threat, the greatest they had faced in years, ending with the command "Assemble the army! We march within the day!"
By noon a force of 5,000 men, dwarves, centaurs, fighting beasts, and also nine giants was ready to march to meet this threat. As the four sovereigns and their officers climbed into their battle armor and made ready to depart, the ambassadors approached, themselves armed for battle. "By your leave, Sire," began Prince Tavish, "We and our forces would fain accompany you in this defense of your realm."
"Your gesture is appreciated," began the High King, as he slid his sword into its jeweled scabbard and settled both into his belt, "but this is not your fight. Ours is the duty to guarantee your safety, not the other way round."
"Meaning no disrespect, your Majesty," Prince Korrigan interceded, "We have just spent nearly six weeks in discussions of how best our nations can aid each other and again and again saying it is best when the like-minded and the right-minded band together against the common threat to weal. We cannot do otherwise, if we do, all this talk was just that, talk unsupported by action, and our honor will mean no more than the mist of early morning that vanishes in the light of day."
The High King could not argue with that, and so it was a much augmented force that marched northwest, bearing not only the red lion of Narnia and the great cross of Archenland, but also the sea dragon ensign of Galma, the laurel arms of Terebinthia, the flag with the star of seven points for the Seven Isles, and the blue banner of the Lone Islands. They were three days marching, and met the goblin force the afternoon of the fourth, at the foot of the hill where the ruins of the Stone Table lay. The goblins were no great fighters, much less great tacticians, and fell just as easily as men, only dirtier, to the steel of blade and arrow. They had an advantage in numbers, however, as for each one struck down, two more seemed to take his place. The Narnians and their allies quickly realized that an open battle of attrition would not result in victory, and, as the sun set, withdrew to the hilltop to consider other possibilities.
After a torchlit, nervous night, the High King led 1,000 of their forces, mostly cavalrymen and centaurs, in an assault against the entire goblin force. Within a few minutes he raised his bugle and sounded the retreat. Sensing an easy victory, the goblins pursued them with complete abandon. Imagine their surprise when bugles sounded from either side and they found themselves facing not a demoralized and fleeing foe, but two lines of fresh troops charging them behind a hedge of shining spearpoints and waving broadswords, and over these a hail of heavy arrows loosed by Susan and Lucy's archers. Outmaneuvered, the goblins fought, but by the end of the day fewer than one third their number fled back northwest, their officers slain, their standard fallen, and the survivors so wounded or terrified they would not return. Cheers went up among the allies as they hailed their victory.
Lucy traversed the field, dispensing the healing cordial she had been given on that first Narnian Christmas in a century to the wounded, then she saw a sight that made her heart nearly stop. Korrigan lay surrounded by his officers, his cloak of deepest blue badly torn and stained a deep red in some areas, his scale armor pierced in several places, and his face a sick, deadly ashen. She was at his side in a moment, and quickly let fall a drop from her diamond bottle on each of his many wounds. Though they closed, the ashen hue did not leave his face.
"Farewell, dearest Lucy," he managed in a voice like fading embers. "At last I too shall meet Aslan," he rasped, before his eyes fell shut and his head dropped forward onto his breast.
"I don't… understand…" gasped Lucy, looking hopelessly back and forth between her cordial and Korrigan's lifeless body.
King Edmund placed his hand where one of the wounds had been, then lifted it to his lips and said, "I do. One of the arrows which struck him was poisoned."
For a long moment all was silent but the cries of several of the kinder creatures, before the High King Peter, standing nearby on a rise of the hill to survey the results of the battle, made a noise that could have been choking back tears, or it could have been just a cough, and shouted, "Present…arms!" As one, every fighting man and beast snapped to attention and saluted the fallen.
The High King lowered his salute and spoke, his voice carrying easily through the calm evening air, "Noble friends, it is truly a terrible loss we have suffered here today, even in the moment of our victory. But do not mourn, the loss of life is only to be mourned if the life was wasted. No hero who lays down his life in the service of his friends can be said to have wasted that life, for we are taught that is the greatest love of all. This day will be forever remembered. Every man and beast who advanced with me shall be made knight, of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, after the banner beneath which we advanced. Every man and beast who fought otherwise shall also be made knight, of the Noble Order of the Table, after the place where we have fought this battle. Let all who see their badges know what can be accomplished when the righteous stand together, wherever they may come from, whatever form they may take, whatever name they may speak when they pray. And so let us repair to Cair Paravel, and there do our honors to those both living and dead whose service and sacrifice carried this day."
A week later, the dead buried, the wounded healed, all farewells said, the ambassadors took ship, wearing the badges of their new orders, their ties to the crown of Narnia strengthened by this common effort. Korrigan was embalmed in precious Calormene resins and given a coffin of the finest rosewood for this, his last journey. All the departing ambassadors agreed that they had never experienced such wonderful hospitality, nor known such good rulers.
Still, as the last sails faded from sight in the east and thick, wooly clouds began to roll in over the evening star like a comforting blanket at the end of the day, Lucy's heart felt like ashes within her. She had been in battle before and seen casualties, but never before had she seen a good friend who had done no wrong struck down so capriciously. As she laid down for the night it seemed bitterly unfair that this had happened, and no matter how much she tossed and turned and thought about it, she could not understand or accept it, any more than you could accept the death of a grandparent who seemed perfectly healthy, or a loved pet you tried hard to save. Abandoning her bed, she wrapped herself in her mantle and went out into the gardens, where she could walk and think, unseen and unnoticed by any.
She had not gone very far when she realized that her own steps were being marked by those of great paws. "I sense you are troubled, dear Daughter of Eve," came the rumbling, near-purring voice she had so desperately wanted to hear. Next to her walked Aslan, the great Lion of Narnia and the best friend other than her own family she had in either of the worlds she belonged to.
She turned, and could only look for one moment into that lordly face before all the pain she had been holding in came to the surface, but she felt no anger. Tears started in her eyes and her lip began to tremble. She fell to her knees and buried her face deep in Aslan's mane, crying and sobbing as she had not since the night of His sacrifice at the Stone Table. "Oh Aslan," she sobbed when she could finally stop sobbing long enough to get the words out, "Why? Why? He was my friend and now he's dead! He didn't have to join the battle, why?"
"Dearest Lucy," began Aslan, in a voice even lower and quieter than that He had used when he first appeared, tears standing in His own eyes, "I can only answer that no living creature, from the noblest of noble men down to the smallest of birds, dies but at the hour appointed for it by the Emperor-over-Sea. Korrigan's appointed hour was at that battle."
"But he did no wrong. He believed."
"Yes, and it is that belief together with his good deeds that saved him."
"I don't understand."
"Dearest daughter, I tell no one any story but their own, but as he was a part of yours, I can tell you his part in your story is not quite ended. He has gone from your sight, but there is another place where all good creatures who believe come to."
"Then I'll see him again?" asked Lucy, her heart rising once more.
"Not in Narnia, but yes, you will see him again, I promise you that. And his sacrifice will not go unrewarded. This nation will have an honest and sound corps of leaders in the orders of knighthood your brother is building, and the ties of those nations that fight together in a righteous cause are not easily broken. It is to do this that these events had to take place. Now do you understand?"
"Yes," managed Lucy in a stronger voice, wiping away the last of her tears. "I do. I am so sorry about Korrigan, and I am also sorry for his family, but now I see that this happened for a reason. Thank you for being with me this night and helping me hold onto my faith."
"Even had you lost your faith I would have been here," said Aslan, "for I am here for even the wayward, the faithless, and the lost, if only they will look for me. Be comforted, and know I will always be here for you." And with that he bent forward and gave Lucy a lion's kiss on the forehead, before his voice faded to a whisper and his form dispersed into the light of the stars, now shining out clearly.
Lucy started as though waking, even though she had been awake the whole time. She felt the wind stir her mantle and her nightdress, and the cold dew nip at her feet. She decided she best go in to bed before she caught cold. As she lay down she noticed that her heart no longer felt heavy, nor did her mind feel so turbulent now that her question had been answered. It was also warm and cozy under her down quilt after walking on cold, dewy grass in her bare feet, and for the first time since the battle, she slept peacefully.
The next morning, when she took her place at court, she saw that twenty of the Most Noble Order of the Lion would stand ever after on the sovereigns' right, and twenty of the Noble Order of the Table on their left, resplendent in Dryad-woven surcoats and armed with the finest dwarf-forged weapons. They were a brave sight, and made her heart swell.
As she stood later on the balcony overlooking the sea, where she and Korrigan had played chess, her siblings approached.
"Bear up, Lucy, no more sorrow," said the High King Peter, taking her right hand.
"Please, your pain has my own heart near to breaking," said Queen Susan, taking her left hand and looking into her eyes with honest sadness in her own and a quiver in her own upper lip.
"I wish there was more I could add," said King Edmund, placing his hand on her shoulder, "I can only say that it never helped anyone to cling to the thorns of a lost rose, sad though they might be at its passing."
Lucy turned, and her siblings saw that the sparkle was beginning to return to her eyes. "Thank you very much," she said, "dear Peter, always my protector, you, Su, truly the Gentle, as they call you, and Ed, wisest and most caring. I think I'll be all right now." She told them of her visit with Aslan. All were awed.
"Even if he is not a tame lion," said Peter, "He certainly does seem to know when and where He is needed, and we should all be thankful for that."
"I
am thankful for that," said Lucy, as her warm smile returned, though tears, this time of love, brimmed once more in her wide, blue eyes, "And I am thankful for a lot of other things. But I'm also thankful for all of you, so please don't go anywhere yet." Standing up on her silk-shod toes, she gave her brothers and sister a deep cuddle, for in Narnia even queens aren't above that. A moment later they returned the cuddle, and I would not be surprised if a few of their tears mingled with hers, for neither a queen nor a King, nor even a High King is above the feelings that come of seeing their sister's bruised heart healed with the help of the Master of all loving hearts.