Golden Narnia Chapter 7: Stress on a Lone Queen

The busy days without her siblings seemed somehow to both fly by, and take forever to get through. By the end of the first full week with all of her siblings gone, Lucy was beginning to feel the strain. From the sidelong, worried looks she was getting (especially from Orieus), her determinedly bright smiles weren't fooling everyone.

She was grateful for the budding friendship with the would-be knight, Rorin, who seemed Aslan-sent. Just when she was starting to feel really fatigued, or overwhelmed, there he was with a glass of water, or a kind word, or a happy thanks at her suggesting the library to him. He genuinely seemed to be doing his flat best to fit in and contribute to Narnia.

It's a far cry from Avarro's behavior lately, she thought sourly, finally escaping into the quietness of her rooms.

Her head throbbed. How can one person cause so much aggravation?

It was a struggle to recall how relaxed she'd been just earlier that afternoon in the orchard, discussing the coming flowering season with one of the resident Woodpeckers.

The light, inconsequential conversation seemed more than just a few hours ago—far more.

She'd gone off to her school review in such a good mood, even seeing Avarro's slightly sulky face waiting to escort her to the school (as she'd promised he could) hadn't dented it.

But it seemed Avarro, if he couldn't be the center of attention, instead delighted in making everyone else as miserable as he was.

She felt the mix of anger and annoyance rise again. What was wrong with him?

She knew it was cowardly, but now that she was finally in her rooms, she realized she just couldn't bear the idea of going down to dinner. In her rooms, it was calm and the quiet folded around her; the hall would be crowded and noisy.

And Avarro was sure to be there. Right now if she saw him she didn't know if she'd rather punch him and walk away, or take the high road and pointedly ignore him. Or possibly start screaming at him.

Deciding that perhaps not having to choose any of these options was the best course of action, she asked Alissa to see that her dinner was brought up to her rooms, pleading a headache after the full day. The Dryad was quick to comply, not hiding her concerned look.

Lucy's headache was only too real, pounding in her temples. She knew she wouldn't be able to disguise her uncertain mood from anyone, and it would only cause worry.

And if asked, what would she say? She couldn't even pinpoint whether the lingering feeling was anger, frustration, or confusion. Maybe all three.

But she did know its cause: Avarro's ridiculous behavior during the school visit.

As she mechanically ate her dinner, she wondered how long it would be before General Orieus showed up.

The Centaur had become not only their general and chief military advisor, but also their trainer, confidant, and a father figure to them all. While he was stern and stoic generally, he certainly had a softer side that showed itself in fierce defense of the Four. And with all three of her siblings away, all of that avuncular concern fell on her.

She pondered whether to tell him about Avarro, but what would she tell? That he'd embarrassed her? That seemed petty. Hysterical.

She frowned at herself. Was she overreacting? Avarro had certainly seemed confused at her reaction.

Aslan, help me. She sighed and pushed away from the table, instead curling up in her favorite soft chair near the fireplace. What would Susan say? 'Think about it logically. Why should or should you not be angry with him?'

All right. One thing at a time.

She'd been annoyed at Avarro to start with, what with his having weaseled his way into going to the school with her.

Normally she loved going to the schools alone, so she could pretend she was just an older student, come to hear the littles' recitations and give them some encouragement. Having anyone besides her siblings along, even a friend, meant she really couldn't forget the 'Queen' part of 'Queen Lucy,' which irritated her.

So: yes, she'd been annoyed, and inclined to sharpness with him. She might have been—hmm—call it, primed to overreact to things. A point in that column, then.

But he'd behaved boorishly during the recitations, sighing audibly, and looking around as though he was bored. No one had asked him to come! The least he could have done was at least pretend to be interested. For the children's sake, if nothing else.

He had behaved poorly. She had the right to be irritated with him. Point against him.

But then had come the part that confused her still, hours later. Aslan, help me figure this out.

Lucy always had a free question time at the end of her visits, and the teacher had taken advantage of this (with permission) to step out and get a glass of water.

It had all gone normally for a few minutes. Then a little Hedgehog had asked who Avarro was, and Lucy had smiled at the Hedgehog and said, "He's a friend who has come to visit from very far away."

A little girl (who looked like she had Dryad blood) had asked, "Oh! Is he your special friend? My big sister has a special friend. He's a big boy like him."

Lucy had gone scarlet, but before she could reply, Avarro had put his arm around her and answered (with a wide smirk that made her want to slap him), "Oh, I think I'm pretty special. Don't you agree, Queen Lucy?"

What was he doing? She'd stepped away from him quickly. "He is a very good friend." She said firmly to the children. "All of my friends are special in their own way. Do you have friends who have special talents?" She asked, trying to steer the class back to safe waters.

For a moment this worked, as the children shouted out all the things their friends could do. "Tommy can catch wild frogs!" "Suzanna can turn three cartwheels!" "Dogo can fly in circles!" (Upon further inquiry, this last proved to be a Kingfisher chick who lived near the little boy's house.)

Then the same little Dryad, with a perplexed look on her face, pulled on Avarro's sleeve. He hadn't been paying attention (again), and looked down in surprise. Uncertainly he bent down to hear her whisper.

Then suddenly he was standing next to Lucy with his arm around her again(!), even closer this time. "Little Missy over there wants to know if I've kissed you?" He said jovially, but his face darting towards hers wasn't entirely joking.

Startled, she jerked her head back and turned her face away, surprised at his nearness. She reflexively flung a hand up between them, so his kiss landed on her palm instead of her cheek. Deftly she stepped back, his arm falling away. "Lion's Mane, Avarro, what are you doing?" she hissed, feeling something beyond annoyance now.

He was laughing at her reaction. Point in the 'ill behavior' column.

"It was just a joke," he said, in a wheedling tone, which confused her. He sounded chiding: "Don't be like that."

Was it a joke? Was she being over sensitive?

The children had quieted slightly, looking a little uncertain at the sudden tension in the room, so she smiled for their benefit, unsure what she should do.

End the visit as soon as possible, for one.

"Oh, you're such a joker, Avarro. Isn't he a funny one, children?" Obligingly they had laughed in the over-the-top way that all small things have, and the teacher had finally come back at that point, signaling an end to the visit.

Lucy had used the excuse of her pending meeting with the Ettins to ride back to the Cair very quickly, minimizing the amount of time spent with Avarro. Which was good, since every time he looked at her, with that odd teasing smile on his face, she blushed in confusion again. But it wasn't a happy confusion, like when Peter surprised her with the Splendor Hyaline.

Was it just because no one had ever wanted to kiss her before? But wasn't someone wanting to kiss you a good thing?

She wasn't sure what column to put those points in, and wished Susan were here to talk it over.

Everyone fawned over Susan; surely someone had tried to kiss her? She would know how to handle this. She always seemed to know how to handle everything. Especially things that related to being a girl.

Perhaps this all just took getting used to; she'd be fifteen soon, so this really oughtn't to be such a shock, right? Other fifteen year olds didn't walk around looking as confused as Lucy presently felt. And she was a ruler; shouldn't dignity and poise come into this equation too?

But she felt very undignified and lacking in poise, and oh, Aslan, her head hurt…

"Lucy," a warm voice said, as though her name had been repeated several times. A hand stroked her hair gently. "Lucy, what troubles you?"

She hadn't realized she'd brought her knees up and had rested her head against them while she was thinking. She raised her head, a little startled, to look into the dark, concerned face of Orieus, who was kneeling beside her chair.

His face creased in deeper concern when she lifted her face. "Why do you cry, my Queen?"

"I—oh." She raised her hands to her cheeks, surprised to find them wet. "It's—" she hesitated.

If she just said 'Avarro tried to kiss me,' she knew what Orieus' response would be, even if she added 'as a joke.' She didn't particularly want Avarro to be missing limbs.

If she tried to explain—oh, the embarrassment! And what if everyone said her reaction was over the top? She'd get a reputation as a soft-hearted, over-sensitive ninny, and she already had enough trouble convincing some people that she wasn't a pushover just because she was young and a girl.

So she settled on the simplest truths. "It was a really long day, and my head does ache so." And as she said this, she realized that the headache had become really and truly painful, flashes of pain rippling across her head.

Concern eased into sympathy, and he kissed her on the forehead. "You should have said something before this, milady." He turned and spoke to the maid she hadn't realized was waiting by the door. "Kindly fetch a healer for Queen Lucy," he said, and the Vixen barked and darted away. Orieus turned back to Lucy, concern still in his eyes as he looked at her. "I will speak with Alissa about easing your schedule tomorrow."

"Oh, but I can't," she gasped, sitting upright. "I've got so much to do, with Peter and Su and Ed gone—" A bolt of even more intense pain flashed across her eyes. Orieus gave her a look, and she subsided sheepishly. It wouldn't do to be foolish. "Well, perhaps the morning at least," she allowed.

When she went to stand, the pain flashed across her head even more violently, and she meekly asked the worried Centaur, "Will you help me to my room?"

Gravely he stood and extended a strong arm to lift her to her feet. As they traversed the short distance to her bedroom door, he spoke again. "You are excused from weapons-training tomorrow. I wish you to rest, my Queen."

She mused that if Orieus were giving her time off training, she must look dreadful—and then flinched as another bolt of pain seared her head.

Well, she felt dreadful, so it was only fair.

Twenty minutes later, she'd been hovered over and cosseted as rarely before in her life, with cool cloths for her head and heavy curtains drawn to keep out the light. She was made to drink a bitter tea that made the pain fade considerably, and extra-soft pillows to cushion her head were brought.

Perhaps a morning off wouldn't be amiss. And perhaps a good night's rest would help her sort out this whole Avarro mess.

Aslan, let me understand, she prayed, and then finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

She slept late the next day and woke with her head feeling better, but her heart was still troubled. For a few minutes after she woke up, she stared blankly at the painted ceiling, wishing for the first time, ever, that she didn't have to get up. Didn't have to face her day. Didn't have to face her duties.

After a short while, she realized her eyes had been traveling over the same figure in the fresco: the Lion, ancient eyes gazing benevolently down on her.

She smiled a little wryly. "I suppose sometimes... you need to be courageous in facing the little things as well as the big ones." She said aloud to the ceiling, and felt a little better with the reminder that Someone was watching over her.

She wondered briefly what Aslan would make of Avarro. Somehow she didn't think He would put the spoilt Telmarine at the top of his Most Favored list.

Sighing a little, she swung her legs over the high edge of the bed and hopped down to get dressed.

Simple clothing today, she decided, not wishing to call maids away from their tasks. Undoubtedly their routine had already been massively disrupted with her departure from her regular schedule. Lucy wasn't going to add to it.

There was a soft tap at the door as she finished lacing the front of a pale green velvet gown. "Come in," she called, and one of the palace pages, a bright-eyed Mouse, entered with a small salver.

"Good morning, Your Majesty!" the Mouse piped. "I hope you're feeling better?"

"I am, thank you." Lucy replied.

"Good! I have a message for you," the Mouse said, and offered up the salver.

There was a little piece of paper on it, and Lucy picked it up curiously.

Perhaps it was an apology from Avarro. She considered that and rolled her eyes at herself. Probably not. Who, then?

An involuntary smile came across her face.

Most Gracious Majesty Queen Lucy,

I was most distressed to hear of your indisposition, and am in high hopes that the Healers have offered you some relief from your illness. I was saddened at having to miss you during arms practice this morning.

If you are feeling better, might I interest you in a light meal with quiet music and easy conversation? I've finished one of the books you recommended to me, and would love the chance to discuss it with you.

I have promised both General Orieus and the chief Healers to not overtax you. If, of course, you are still feeling unwell, I shall take no offence, and will simply consider our discussion temporarily postponed.

(Though I do hope you are feeling better!)

Yours most faithfully,

Lord Rorin of Archenland

She felt a real smile cross her face and hurried to her escritoire to write a brief acceptance of the thoughtful offer. It sounded just the thing.

Now if she could only keep Avarro from spoiling it...

At the thought of the Telmarine boy, she felt her temper rising. Apparently she was not yet prepared to forgive him.

Putting him out of her mind, she handed the Mouse her note. "Kindly take this reply to Lord Rorin, and if you see Alissa, ask her to come by."

"No need to find her, Your Majesty." The Mouse darted out the door, and Lucy could hear his voice pipe, "She's up!"

The door had hardly closed behind his tail when a knock sounded. "Come in," Lucy called, sifting through a drawer for a hair-ribbon.

Alissa sailed in the room, leading a couple of the Badgers who worked in the kitchens. They bore silver trays of cereal grains and sweet fruits; Alissa carried a ewer of water and a small steaming teapot. They had a little table set with Lucy's breakfast in nearly the time it took for her to cross her suite.

"Why, what's this?" She exclaimed, genuinely surprised.

"We hoped you'd be hungry," one of the Badgers explained, and the other thrust his snuffling snout into her palm—the Badger equivalent of a hug.

"We were worried about you, when you didn't come for dinner," the second Badger replied. "But I'm quite happy you look like you're feeling better, Queen Lucy."

"I am feeling better, mostly due to everyone's thoughtfulness and kindness," Lucy said, smiling at them.

Their broad faces crinkled with the Badger version of a blush.

"And," Lucy continued, seating herself and shaking out her napkin, "this breakfast looks just the thing to complete a cure. My deepest thanks to you and all the kitchen staff, friends."

"Our pleasure, Queen Lucy!" the pair assured her, and shuffled back to the kitchens.

Alissa sat down opposite Lucy, her expression amused.

"Your lack of attendance at dinner last night caused a stir," she said.

"Oh, I didn't mean to—" Lucy began anxiously.

"So I think you should skip Court dinners more often." the Dryad continued, surprising Lucy.

"What?"

"You were overstressed yesterday, and I must deeply beg your pardon, my queen, for not recognizing it."

"Oh, it was a... specific thing that pushed me over the tipping point," Lucy began, but Alissa waved her off.

"There may have been the 'leaf that burst the dam,' but I should have been more mindful of not allowing you to take on so many tasks that you could get to the point one thing caused you to become unwell." She cocked her head. "I frequently forget how young you are."

"I'll be fifteen in two months," Lucy pointed out, eating her cereal.

"And, being fifteen, you have no appreciation for how young you are. Most other girls your age are concerned only with their schoolbooks or their beaux. Not running a country."

Lucy shrugged and swallowed her bite. "Well, there's no one else to do it just now, so that's that."

"Nevertheless I will see to it that your schedule is lightened somewhat."

"So long as nothing important gets skipped," Lucy warned. "But what does that have to do with my eating dinner in the Hall or not?"

"Your absence last night caused such a stir, I realized that you are, perhaps, a bit too accessible to your people. There was nearly a panic."

"But I like to be available."

"I know, but consider this: just now, there's no time for you in your day. While your royal siblings are at the Cair, the burden of being the monarch is... hmm, spread out."

"And of course, I have Peter and Su and Ed to lean on if I need to," Lucy said, starting to understand Alissa's point.

"Yes! But for now at least, you have no regular escape to calm down from the day's events. So perhaps simply taking the dinner hours for yourself now and again might be an answer? You could still eat in the Great Hall if you'd like, of course, but if you choose to eat in your rooms, it shouldn't cause a panic."

"No, it really shouldn't." Lucy agreed, and smiled. "All right. If it'll make you feel better, I'll start taking the occasional meal away from all the crowds and sound of the Great Hall." She had to admit, the busy-ness and bustle of the Hall during meals could be a bit... relentless. The idea of a space of calm at the end of her day sounded like a lovely idea.

If she didn't like it, or found it lonely, she could always go down to the Hall anyway.

"And, so you know I'm not trying to pretend I wasn't unwell last night, I'm having a light, quiet tea with Lord Rorin this afternoon. I really do need to review the law court judgements this afternoon. What else is pressing?"

Alissa consulted her notes. "There's not much until the day after tomorrow. A new musical quintet would like to play for you this evening—they're hoping to be invited to play at the Queen Susan's Arts Feast. Avarro has asked—"

"No," popped out of Lucy's mouth, almost reflexively. Alissa eyed her curiously: Lucy rarely interrupted.

Lucy gave her a wry smile. "The 'leaf that burst the dam'?" She said. "Avarro was a heavy leaf yesterday." She mentally snorted. Avarro was the whole darn tree branch coming down.

"Ah," Alissa said, and drew a line through something on her paper, then added a note. "Well, then. General Orieus would like to see you for a time today, and we are expecting the usual letter from Queen Susan. That's all."

The light schedule sounded wonderful. "Thank you, Alissa. And thank you for your care of me."

The Dryad's face darkened slightly. "I only wish I'd been better aware of it to prevent your feeling unwell."

"No, really. You do a fantastic job, and I truly appreciate all you do."

The Dryad's face brightened a bit at the note of honesty in her voice, and she ducked her head. "Very well. Accept my thanks, my queen. I shall leave you to your breakfast."

Lucy nodded, her mouth full again, and was soon sitting alone in the quiet of her room.

She closed her eyes a moment, savoring the silence, and opened them to find herself gazing at the Lion gilded on the back of her door. "Aslan, I really hope I am doing what You want of me," she said. "I hope I'm not shirking my duties by taking time for myself. I can't really think how you'd answer, if you were here and I'd ask. Would you say that it's the burden of the ruler to take more weight on her shoulders than others do? Or would you say that taking care of myself is just as important?" She shook her head. "I know better than to ask for any sort of proof. Your power is far too vast to be used for trifles. But I wish I knew what you'd tell me to do." She sighed, and reached for her drink.

She poured herself some tea, and pulled the dish of fruit closer to herself. The motion shifted the contents, and a flat slice of apple, that had been perched atop the bits of pear and grapes and other things, split in half. She blinked at the gap, a sudden memory of one of the most significant days in her life suddenly leaping to mind, and she laughed.

"I guess you might tell me it's all right to play a while, like you played with Susan and I that wonderful morning. But then we got to work, and we woke the Stone Animals and the Trees and then joined in the battle to defeat the White Witch. So. It's all right to play, so long as you do get what needs to be done, done?"

She received no answer, but would have sworn the gilded Lion gleamed a little brighter. In any event she felt much better, and now had a luncheon with a good friend to look forward to. After that, more work—but she felt far readier to tackle it, now.

So, things are starting to pile up on poor Lucy. Wonder what she's going to do about Avarro though? ; )