Chapter 2: Once A Queen

A/N: Hey, yall, thanks for reading and reviewing! I'm enjoying writing this as much as I hope yall are enjoying reading.

Victoria gazed uncertainly at her reflection. She wore the same robe that her aunt, Susan, had worn for her coronation, but she felt neither regal nor beautiful in it. At least her hair would look somewhat decent, with the help of Finola, her lady-in-waiting.

"Are you ready for this, milady?" Finola asked around the hairpins in her mouth.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Victoria sighed, again critically perusing her reflection. She wondered how the delicate, golden circlet that would be placed on her head in a few minutes could give her so much power--and so much responsibility. Was it the crown that would give her power? Or would it be the spirit of her father, who once wore the same crown? Or would it be something else? Whatever it was, Victoria wasn't really certain she was ready for her new position.

"Was my father nervous at his coronation?" Victoria asked thoughtfully.

"Don't know," Finola muttered, wrestling to pin down an unruly wisp of gold hair. "S'pose he was, s'pose anyone would be. Are you?"

"I am not," Victoria lied.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Victoria inhaled deeply to calm herself, and cracked her knuckles. In just a moment, she would begin the longest walk of her life: Through the Great Hall of Cair Paravel, to the Four Thrones.

To her inheritance.

"Aslan give me strength," she whispered, and she reached down into her bodice and fingered Peter's ring. "And Father, if you can see me, I'll try and make you proud."

A prestigious trumpet fanfare rippled through the Great Hall, and a cheer from the Narnians assembled there rose up.

It was time.

Precisely placing one foot before the other, Victoria entered the Great Hall. Oreius and Tumnus stood at the Four Thrones, ready to perform the coronation ceremonies. She gulped and tried to focus entirely on them and on her destination. She tried not to wonder what her subjects were thinking behind their solemn smiles.

I can't do this. I can't. I'm not wise enough, or powerful enough. I'm just a child. Panic suddenly strangled Victoria as the thought burned through her mind. She stopped; she stood motionless in the middle of the Great Hall, nausea twisting her stomach.

Alarm showed in Tumnus's eyes. "Your Higness, what are you doing?" he mouthed silently.

Victoria closed her eyes. "I can't do this," she mouthed back.

Tumnus stared gravely at her. "You have to do this."

She wanted to run, to cry, to forget about all of this ceremony and circumstance and responsibility. But Tumnus was right. So, she forced her feet to keep moving, forced herself to pretend to be confident and dignified. But her mind continued to insist, I'm not ready. I can't do this.

At last she reached the Four Thrones.

She stood before the lords and nobles, fauns and centaurs, dwarves and dryads, and smiled brilliantly. They smiled as well, but Victoria could feel that they were measuring her and finding her wanting.

"To the Western Lands, to the Great Eastern Ocean, to the golden sun, and to the clear northern sky," Oreius intoned, drawing his sword in salute, "Victoria, the Strong."

As the audience bowed, Victoria again squeezed her eyes shut. The Strong. That was the last thing she felt like now. She looked up as, with an encouraging smile, Tumnus came forward and placed the golden crown upon her head.

Victoria was surpised at the crown's lightness as she lifted her head up again. It had looked much heavier.

Oreius nodded to Victoria, and, recognising the signal, Victoria backed up until she felt the backs of her legs touch her throne. She sat carefully down.

Oreius turned half to Victoria, half to the assembly. "Once a King or Queen in Narnia, always a King or Queen. May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens. In Aslan's name, my Queen, begin your reign."

Then began the cheering. "Long live Queen Victoria! Long live Queen Victoria!"

Victoria sighed, relieved that the ceremony was finally over. A feast came afterwards, and Victoria celebrated as happily as anyone. Still she felt disturbed. She had survived the coronation...

...but would she survive the rest of her reign?

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A/N: I based the words for the coronation ceremony on the movie, but I'm not sure I've got them right. All corrections are welcome!

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