I don't own Narnia or the Pevensies.
The coronation began with trumpets – real trumpets played by real people, no magic involved; the three musicians stood side by side and lifted their polished instruments to their lips to sound a triumphant fanfare of raw human talent. The music carried over the crowd, which had packed the throne room full to bursting; several people had to smoosh back into their fellows to keep their toes off the purple carpet that lined the way to the dais. Though the day outside was slightly drizzly, not the dazzling sunshine that would have made it a perfect storybook moment, nobody had tried to amend this with artificial light or extraneous, gaudy decorations. The people who had gathered were there to express their authentic joy and a little bit of rain wasn't going to mess with that, so they left it alone.
As the notes faded into the restless noise of the crowd, a human mixed salad of servants, courtiers, magicians and soldiers both native and foreign, the procession began and a roar of approval rose up to the high, stone ceiling. First in line was an honor guard of two soldiers in ceremonial regalia, holding the banner and standard of their country. Behind them, but drawing much more notice from the crowd, Vareth walked slowly up the aisle in the center of the room, supported at each elbow by Danya and Roche, who had been outfitted with exquisite costumes of blue and green velvet and satin, while the king wore red and silver. He was still weak, clearly, but his eyes shone proudly from his sunken cheeks and his gait was steady and proud. Across his chest he wore a band of black cloth, a reminder to the kingdom that he mourned his brother still, no matter the wrongs between them.
After these three came the new Magician's Council, comprised of only five people of varying ages and sexes (and heights – one was about two-thirds as tall as the next shortest, though her hat made up much of the difference). Next was Timothy, who walked alongside the king of the Old Narnians, who was in turn followed by the current Narnian monarchy. They walked two abreast, Lucy and Edmund preceding Peter and Susan, smiling to the enthusiastic crowd. All in all, there was an abundance of royalty. Closing the procession was another honor guard, again with banners, swords sheathed at their sides, leaving a respectful distance in front of them.
Lucy stood with her siblings at the front of the crowd (only those who really needed them used chairs) and watched the short ceremony with mixed emotions. With every swell of pride in the suddenly hopeful future of this unfamiliar country, she remembered she would soon be leaving it, and her spirits would drop for a moment before she would recall that she would be going home to her own court, her own castle, her own friends, and her disappointment would ease.
The new Head Magician, a woman in her thirties with a crooked nose and an alarmingly genuine smile, presided; Lucy noticed that the Caelanese coronation ritual was remarkably similar to the sort of wedding she remembered from her very first world – the king swore oaths of loyalty to his country, and in turn, the people gathered swore oaths of loyalty to him, and only after then did the presider settle the crown onto his head. He rose off his knees unsteadily, then straightened out and stabilized, raising his hands up to his subjects, who raised a deafening cheer of approval. Once again, the trumpets sounded, and the procession began to make its way out amidst all the yelling and cheering.
The next few hours passed in a whirl of color and laughter and music and dancing; it seemed the whole kingdom was celebrating. The courtyards, however damp, rang with live music, as if every musician in the kingdom had turned up to supply the revelers with dancing tunes, and more than one person was escorted to the more mellow, supervised lawns when he or she got a little too tipsy and consequently too creative with the dancing. Lucy didn't know any of the formal dances, but she joined in whole-heartedly with the less organized groups and dragged her siblings in more than once. They complained good-naturedly about her overwhelming energy, as all of them were quite exhausted (she had to poke Edmund awake more than once). With Danya, with the other maids with whom she'd been acquainted however briefly, with total strangers, she soaked up the joy of the double feast, the celebration of Vareth's kingship and the farewell banquet for the many Narnians who had helped to make it possible.
But when the sun had just begun to set, and a enormous, low bell sounded from the eastern tower of the castle to mark the first hour of the evening, the music ended, the dancing stopped, and Lucy knew: it was time to go home.
She made her way through the increasingly familiar passages to the room where she had stayed with her siblings the night before. Close to her destination, she bumped into Susan, who smiled and embraced her sister briefly before they continued on together to their chamber. Rhindon and its accompanying shield were no longer there, indicating that Peter had already come and gone, but Lucy's cordial and dagger as well as Susan's bow and quiver were still laid out on the bed. The girls retrieved their gifts, securing them in belts and shoulder straps, checked each other once over and headed back for the main courtyard in front of the castle gates – it was from here they would depart.
The courtyard was crowded, but not so much as it had been before. The people in it were mostly Narnians now, who waited in expectant silence under the darkening sky. Peter and Edmund stood in the center, talking in low voices with Timothy, who was nodding in agreement about something. The three of them looked up at the girls' approach and greeted them warmly, the two brothers kissing their sister's cheeks and welcoming them with a quick update – "We need to get everyone in a spiral, make sure we're all connected before we continue on. Timothy is going to have the second set of rings to stay behind briefly and make sure no one gets left, then he'll come with us to the Wood, and we'll all continue on to Narnia."
"That makes sense," Susan assented, and they broke company as Vareth emerged from the castle and headed towards the five of them at the center. He no longer wore his coronation clothes, though the black band remained.
"Friends," he greeted them as he approached. "I see you off with great sorrow. It is a shame to make and lose such true allies in a time so short. But I know you must be anxious to return to your homeland, and I am glad that you are doing so in safety of mind and body, knowing you are free from the threats my brother would have posed to you."
The four monarchs expressed their gratitude for the hospitality they'd been shown under him, and Peter agreed that it was too short a time. Soon, the Caelanese king was joined by his new head advisers, two familiar former servants who greeted the Pevensies with bittersweet warmth. Lucy threw her arms around Danya, pressing her face into the older girl's dark, coarse hair and mumbling a suddenly tearful goodbye.
"Hey, hey, don't look so sad," Danya said gently, patting her young friend's shoulder. "We may see each other again yet."
"When?" Lucy asked in confusion, sniffling.
"Perhaps someday you'll need our help, and we'll pop up in your castle in disguise," came the smiling reply, though Danya too looked sad to see them off. "Until that day…goodbye, Lucy Pevensie. It's time for you to bless your own kingdom."
"I know. All the same…I'll miss you."
They embraced again, for a moment longer, before Danya gently pulled away and smoothed Lucy's hair from her face.
"And I you, little queen. I won't forget you."
"Or I you."
Lucy gave a watery smile and straightened out, looking up to her siblings as Danya rejoined her king and her partner and retreated to the side as Peter drew his sword and lifted it up for attention. The crowd, even the Caelanese subjects gathered on the ramparts above, fell silent very quickly. With quick, clear directions, Peter had his old (new) subjects join hands and form a spiral, starting from his brother and sisters and expanding out into the courtyard, a huge, elegant shape that left everyone connected through arms.
"Don't let go, no matter what," he instructed them further, before remarking to the elder of his sisters under his breath, "And don't wander off. I swear, if I ever let you out of my sight again, I'll eat my boots."
"Peter," said Edmund thoughtfully, cocking his head to one side. "How long does that Promise Potion stuff last?"
Peter looked very perplexed.
"I have no idea, why?"
"I don't think you ever made a second oath," Edmund explained with a grin.
Distracted, Peter finished his check of the area and at last began to reach for the rings. Lucy caught a last glimpse of the night sky of Caelan, then she felt a familiar jerk and everything blurred but Edmund's laughter, ringing in her ear. The last words she heard before she was hurled into some unknown cosmos en route to the Wood Between the Worlds: "Hope your boots taste good, Peter."