XXXXXXXXXX
Chapter 2, Part 3: In Two Shakes of a Lamb's Tail
XXXXXXXXXX
Leaving Edmund to discuss battle strategies and methods of making the most of their position (and their enemies' weaknesses), Lucy exited the How to watch the sunset.
Sitting along the hill, the young queen faced west to observe the sun, leaking its brilliant gold illumination upon her more potently, as though to bid her farewell until the morrow. The sky was aflame with a tapestry of yellow, crimson, coral, violet, and azure until, the sun sank, kissing the emerald ocean of trees where it stood upon the horizon. Then, the sky's vibrant colors faded, subdued by the absence of its golden master.
With a sudden jolt of inspiration, Lucy understood it all. 'Logic!' the Professor had always told them; he was right. Thinking about it logically, Narnia's descent made perfect sense. Narnia can only thrive when Aslan is present in the land and in the hearts of the people. However, when the four siblings had left Narnia through the wardrobe, Narnia also lost its monarchs: one of the crucial connections between Aslan and Narnia. For, the Lion must bless the Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve and then crown the rightful rulers at their coronation… While there, the inhabitants of Narnia are able to see that He is real and that He loves them. Now…
Now, there was over a thousand years of doubt to push past and tear asunder – even in their own hearts, Lucy thought with a pang, thinking of her eldest siblings. But it had only been a year for them, surely – surely the monarchs of the Golden Age could get over their uncertainty? For Narnia. For Aslan. For Caspian…
Lucy shook her head, unsure of where that last thought had come from. Certainly, the prince would need as many allies as he could in order to defeat his treacherous uncle… and who better than those most feared by the Telmarines? …the barbarian kings and queens of Narnia long ago.
The queen smirked. It had been a long time since she had thought of that particular slur. The Calormenes were always calling them the "pale barbarians of the North…" She wondered if the Telmarines felt similarly (they were rather tan, after all). Of course, it would be difficult to tell, considering that few – if any – Telmarines were told the old stories… Perhaps Caspian could tell her.
Again. Lucy's mind had wandered off in his direction, again. She sighed. Back to the topic of Calormenes, she decided.
Though achingly fond of Narnia's beaches and hills and woods and far-off mountains, Queen Lucy the Valiant had still been intrigued by the neighboring nations. She had spent some of her time traveling, as had all of her siblings – including Peter, who was loath to leave his dominion. They had all made a point to travel in pairs, so that there would always be at least one person to ride off to do battle or some such in or around Narnia and one person to defend Cair Paravel while the other pair were abroad.
Their system had worked well during their reign, and the pairs always varied so that all four Narnian's received the optimal enjoyment. Lucy's travels with Susan were always different from when she went with one of her brothers, just as going abroad with Edmund or Peter varied from her experiences with the others.
Susan – no matter what the occasion – was always swamped with suitors, be they lordly Tarkaans or entitled sons of the Tisroc (May he choke on a sock), himself. During those times, Lucy would explore the city of Tashbaan or go for a ride in the countryside with one of the Narnians in their party. Or sometimes, she would just sit in the background and watch the unworthy Calormenes fawn over her beautiful sister. It was here that she was useful. Susan could hold the attention of the room… leaving her little sister to keep an ear open and an eye peeled for any untoward remarks or veiled threats or such. Narnia and Calormen were barely friends on a good day; Lucy stood by to be sure that their relations had not soured.
Still, when she was not entertaining her sun-darkened swains, the Valiant Queen's radiant elder sister always found time to spend with her; they would lounge in the succulent pleasure gardens, go boating on the river outside Tashbaan, hold parties aboard the Splendor Hyaline (their beautiful swan-like galleon), attend the lavish balls of the Tisroc (May he be sun-burnt and peeling), bathe in the luxurious (and famous) Calormene baths, and oh, so much more!
Lucy yearned for the closeness she and her sister had shared, then. And oh, the lovely sights! (Even if she did have gaze on that awful bird-god, Tash with something resembling respect… That bloodthirsty Calormene god was nothing compared to the golden strength and mercy of Aslan.) After returning through the wardrobe, Susan had seemed to drift away a little from the compact little family of four that Lucy and her siblings had been. (Sure, they had practically adopted Professor Kirke, but he wasn't a blood relation. And Mother? She seemed so far away from them now. The four of them had already grown up once; as much as they loved her, the child-monarchs didn't need any more mothering.)
Lucy shook those thoughts free. What was wrong with her today? Unwelcome (or unfamiliar, in Caspian's case) thoughts kept plaguing her mind! A diversion would be best, the young queen decided with another heavy sigh.
Traveling with Peter often took them north to receive tribute from (or give a good thrashing to) the Giants of Ettinsmoor. Other times, they would pay a friendly visit to King Lune's court in Archenland (Lucy tended to visit there once a month at least. Prince Corin, after all, was such a firm friend of hers).
When touring Calormen, the two monarchs were often treated to countless formal events (as if they could be anything but a bore!). Sometimes they would be hosted by ambitious Tarkaans, perhaps wishing for a little aid from the barbarian king should they wish to de-thrown the Tisroc (May he inspire such confidence in all his subjects!). But most often, they were entertained by the Calormen ruler himself.
And the one time Lucy had gone on a voyage with her eldest brother to call on the Governor of the Lone Islands, the fair-haired queen had been simultaneously pleased and disappointed. Aboard the ship, she and Peter had been closer than they had ever been; they worked with the crew, played chess, told stories and sang songs and danced across the deck. Such happy, light-hearted days!
Yet, once they landed on Galma or Terebinthia, or the Seven Isles or the Lone Islands, Lucy's brother became the High King Peter the Magnificent. It was a subtle change between the two men, but a change nonetheless. Peter was gentle and laughing and protective. The Magnificent King in foreign lands (for he never was anything but himself at home) was tall and chivalrous and inspiring – but not so often prone to laughter.
In comparison to both Peter and Susan, Edmund – though graver and quieter than he was as a boy – was Lucy's favorite companion abroad.
In Calormen, they went for long horseback rides every morning. They would attend only the most necessary parties and balls. Edmund would persuade some of the Calormene soldiers to let Lucy join him for some sparring in the garrisons. The two would forego the formalities of guards and shaded boats in order to go for a swim in the river with some of their friends.
Edmund would also join her nearly every month to visit Archenland. While Lucy and Corin skipped about frolicking and exploring, he would join King Lune in a glass of wine, and Edmund (ever in need of varying competition) would often challenge the king to a game of chess. Sometimes, the entire group of the royals would make up a hunting party with Lune's courtiers.
On voyages together, the king and queen of the silver crowns enjoyed themselves to the utmost. At every landing, they would tour the island and see the sights, spending only the requisite amount of time with the governmental figures. While on the ship, the two acted as members of the crew; they helped navigate, steer, work the rigging, and act as lookouts on the crow's nest. Sometimes, the monarchs would take separate duties: Edmund taking a turn at the oars and Lucy in the galley preparing meals. Though often tired-out from the hard work, they always found time to play chess or spar or lie down on the deck and talk as they stared up at the stars.
They would dream about what it would be like to sail further than the Lone Islands… just keep sailing. But it remained a dream; they couldn't abandon their duties in Narnia or worry their siblings unduly.
Lucy sighed again. At their coronation, Aslan had gifted her with the glistening Eastern Sea, just as Edmund had been given the great Western Woods, Susan the radiant southern sun, and Peter the clear northern skies. And oh, how she missed her sea! The short boat-ride on the Glasswater did little to quench her desire to ride the ocean's waves and laugh with the mermen and mermaids who sang at their coronation.
"How long have you been out here, Lu?" a voice asked, bordering on concerned. Turning her head to look behind her, she saw her brother, flanked by the prince.
"Since sunset," the young queen replied, her mind still dazed from her memories.
"Sunset!" Caspian exclaimed.
Prodding his sister lightly, Edmund said, "Lucy, that was hours ago." Pulling the cloak off his shoulders, the Just King set it upon his sister's shoulders, and only then did she realize that she had been lightly shivering. Edmund smiled at her before lying down beside her leisurely, motioning for Caspian to do the same with a wave of his hand.
"What were you thinking about, Lu?" her brother asked softly.
The Valiant Queen glanced at his earnest, gentle face beneath his black hair, and on her other side, she saw the taller, lankier form of Caspian who gazed at her in warm fascination. It was difficult to tell in the moonlight, but Lucy could feel the burning affect his nearness had on her.
It was odd, she decided. In Narnian time, no man had made her feel like this in over a thousand years… She never had this sensual awareness in England, yet perhaps here in Narnia, some physical aspects of her time as an adult remained after all (though hopefully her monthly bleeding would remain absent).
"Queen Lucy?" Caspian queried, puzzled and worried by her lack of reply to her brother.
Snapping her thoughts back to her brother's question, Lucy lied back against the soft turf of the hill, putting her arms behind her head as a cushion. "I was thinking about the traveling we use to do here…"
Edmund nodded slightly, waiting for her to continue speaking as Caspian, too, relaxed back against the hill.
The queen's voice was full of soft yearning as she breathed, "Our monthly trips to Archenland… our ambassadorial visits to Calormen… but most of all, our voyages on the Eastern Sea."
Edmund sighed with understanding and a shared longing. "I remember."
Caspian stared at them in shock, asking, "You sailed?"
Edmund chuckled, replying, "We didn't just sail, Caspian. We were the most powerful naval force in the known world – our worst ship would have made even the proudest Calormen weep!"
Disappointed in his lineage, the sixteen-year-old prince sighed, "After conquering Narnia, my ancestors strongly discouraged visiting the ocean. Because of Aslan…"
"What a shame," the queen remarked. "My sea is one of the fairest you'll find the world over…"
Caspian glanced sharply at the blonde at his side, confused. Catching his bewilderment over his sister's head, Edmund explained, "At our coronation, Aslan gave us each a fourth of Narnia, even though Peter was High King and we all ruled Narnia as a whole. Still, he gave Lucy guardianship over the East – including the sea, just as he gave me the Western Woods."
"And the others?" the prince asked, inquisitive.
"Susan got the South and Peter the North," the Just King mentioned.
Grasping her brother's hand, Lucy said, "You miss your woods, don't you, Ed?"
"You know I do, Sister," Edmund replied, an almost pained hitch in his voice. A delicate silence crept over the three monarchs as they lied upon the hill, staring off into the West.
As Duke of Lantern Waste and Count of the Western March, King Edmund the Just had been use to riding through the Western Woods on a weekly basis. He knew every Dryad by name and every Faun, Dwarf, and woodland Beast within the wood. The king would ride west whenever he was not overcome with affairs of state or paperwork; often, his younger sister would come with him, until soon, she knew the land and the inhabitants nearly as well as he.
The residents of the Western Wood would sometimes even refer to the two as a unit when it came to specifying who would be coming to visit; they would refer to them as 'the Silver Crowns,' for the two monarchs, though not as obviously impressive as their gold-crowned siblings, shone in subtler ways. The denizens grew to favor the jovial bravery and the grave justice of the Silver Crowns over the otherworldly beauty and imposing majesty of the Gold Crowns.
The situation was similar in the other places of Narnia, Edmund mused; each monarch was most favored in the province they represented.
It was Tumnus – a resident of the Western Wood – that informed him of the appearance of the White Stag. The four monarchs had leapt at the chance to fulfill a long-held Narnian tradition… But they left during the hunt.
The young king felt his stomach turn leaden in his belly.
So much had changed in Narnia since those Golden Days… Still, Edmund longed to gallop to his wood and uproot the Talking Animals from where they hid. Shake the trees until they woke to greet their king. Pull the Fauns from their hidden homes and the Dwarfs from their underground smithies. He wanted to yell and scream and cry all at once…
All the people Edmund had known were dead and gone – except perhaps a few of the trees, but even they were fast asleep. Loneliness overwhelmed him like a crashing wave against his face… So engulfed was he in his grief, that Edmund did not notice the salt tears that streamed down his cheeks in rivulets sparkling in the moonlight. But Lucy did.
Pulling her brother into her arms, she cooed and comforted him, whispering that she "knows… I miss them all too…" Letting him sob silently into the crook of her neck, Lucy rubbed his back while Caspian, unable to observe Edmund's face through the golden curtain of his sister's hair, looked on in distress.
The prince had no notion of how to behave now that he had seen one of his heroes cry. The Telmarines had stressed that no weakness was to be shown – that if one was to be truly great, one must discard any and all weaknesses. Strength above all else was valued.
Yet, watching the siblings bond over their shared anguish shifted something within the sixteen-year-old. Edmund and Lucy did not hide their vulnerabilities near each other because they had no need to: the love they shared as siblings, the trust, the empathy… all of it gave them the pure, untainted knowledge that if one stumbled, the other would brace them before they could fall.
Caspian wished he had a relationship as genuine as the one the two monarchs shared. He was tired of his uncle's prideful looks, his aunt's disgusted glances… Was there no one who cared for him? (Discounting, of course, his beloved nurse and the ever-loyal Doctor Cornelius.)
Just as Caspian the Tenth was about to slip and drown within his own silent despair, Edmund lifted his head from his sister's shoulder, stopping to whisper in her ear for a brief moment. Lucy nodded an affirmative to his murmur. Then, her eyes still expressing her sorrow in their blue, limpid depths, Lucy reached for his hand, hers cool and white on her his warmer, tan one. With a sudden lurch, Caspian was shocked to discover himself with his arms wrapped around the queen's – even more astonished so because she had been the one to pull him there.
"You looked like you needed a hug, too," Lucy murmured, her eyes dulcet and understanding as they gazed into Caspian's. He nodded, still dazed, then secured his arms more firmly around her small, soft body.
All at once, both prince and queen were abnormally aware of their bodies. Their warmth seeped into each other where they touched and they could hear the other's breath in their ear. Finally, the two separated, their eyes not quite meeting as they averted their flushed faces and uttered small words of gratitude for the comfort provided.
Meanwhile, Edmund looked on with undisguised attentiveness. Pretending he hadn't seen their awkward embrace or reluctant separation, King Edmund mildly suggested, "Why don't we sleep out here tonight? We could lay our cloaks over us for blankets and the grass is a soft enough mattress…"
With a quirk of her brow, Lucy pointed out the limited number of cloaks as opposed to the quantity of individuals. To which her brother replied, "We three can sleep near each other and share the two cloaks. How would that be?"
"What if Uncle Miraz attacks in the night?" Caspian queried.
Edmund smiled, "I trust that the sentries will be alert." Thus, the other two were forced to concede.
Laying his arm beneath his sister's head, Edmund drew closer to Lucy, then pulled Caspian so that his arm encased the waist of the queen. Despite the evident blushes on both the prince's and his sister's faces, Edmund ignored their awkwardness. He then pulled the cloaks so that they overlapped on Lucy and closed his eyes to sleep.
Surprisingly, slumber came easily to Edmund, yet it remained elusive for the other two.
Unwilling to let the silence grow, Lucy looked skyward and murmured, "Whenever Edmund and I went on a sea voyage, we would always sprawl out on the deck at night to watch the stars…"
Caspian's reply was warm and velvety as he breathed, "And what was that like…?"
Another blush bloomed in Lucy's cheeks. "It was lovely," she yawned lightly, leaning toward Caspian slightly. "The sky was vibrant with the gleaming white stars nestled in the velvet, midnight-blue heavens. The moon would be full and swollen off to the side, pouring her liquid silver light out upon the deck of the ship. Meanwhile, you could faintly see the light from the moon and the stars reflecting off the ocean's water so that there was a sort of white-silver ambiance as far as the eye could see…"
Caspian was going to reply or ask another question, but with an inward start of surprise, he noticed Lucy's breath even out where her head rested upon his shoulder. The Valiant Queen had fallen asleep on him… Caspian could find no words to describe the giddiness he felt at that realization, nor the sudden swell of tenderness and protectiveness he experienced as he gazed upon her sleeping face.
"I shall go on a sea voyage one day," Caspian murmured softly, sending his determination out into the vast reaches of the heavens. Laying his head down to face the girl, the prince shut his eyes and descended into slumber with a yearning sigh.
XXXXXXXXXX
A/N:
Is this a better length? I tried to make it longer so I wouldn't be teasing you all with little snippets of the story…
XXXXXXXXXX