For Tradition and Such.

Three years.

They had gone three years with peace, their kingdom thriving and growing. The crops grew faster than they could harvest, the market was always busy, and the streets were always bustling with smiling faces. The people weren’t sure what to do with the peace, at first, having lived under such a tyrannical ruler for so many years. They would walk with caution, their eyes darting around, as if they were afraid of someone attacking them. Many didn’t know what peace felt like, and almost none of them remembered a time when they were safe.

Then, on a day when Queen Lucy was taking a stroll through the markets, searching for a gift for her dear friend, a young faun fell in front of her, the bucket of water he had been carrying drenching the Valiant from head to toe. The entire street stilled, all fearful of what would happen. The faun himself was visibly shaking with fear, and he started apologizing profusely. “M-my Que-queen I-I-I-” The young woman cut him off then, but not with cold words or a harsh slap, but with a loud, playful laugh, causing the faun to go still as stone. “Please, do call me Lucy! It’s alright, I assure you. I was feeling rather hot, and you helped cool me off, so thank you for that.” She gave him a smile, the kindest smile he had ever seen someone give him, and he gave her a tentative one in return. “Are you all right? That was quite a nasty fall you had. I feel as if I should be the one to apologize!” The faun nodded, his smile growing less afraid and more friendly. “I’m alright.” “I am overjoyed to hear so. Might I inquire your name?” “Silas, your majesty.” “It is my pleasure to meet you, Silas. And please, I’d much rather you call me Lucy. If all my friends started calling me Queen Lucy and Your Majesty, so much time would be waisted!” She gave him such a lovely grin, talking briefly longer before venturing back to the castle, and it was then that the people started to feel that they could have peace.

And then, three years later, that all came crashing down, all with a simple pair of scissors.

“Lucy, Peter wants to talk to you about something. He’s in his chambers.” Edmund’s dark eyes held a hint of despair in them, something the youngest Pevensie hadn’t seen in her brother’s eyes in years. Despite her questions, she nodded, slowly making her way through the warm castle, down long corridors. The magnificent’s door was open just barely when she approached it, making her cautious. A tentative hand pushed its way into the room, the rest of the body following. Inside, light flooded in through the open balcony, a gentle breeze calming her panicked nerves. “Peter? Are you in here?” “I’m out here, Lu.” His voice floated in on the wind, but there was a heaviness to it, as if he was carrying the world alone on his shoulders. (In a way, he was.) His back was to Lucy as he looked out over her ocean, the smell of the sea filling the room. He gripped something tightly in his hands, something that glinted in the sun and caught Lucy’s curious eye. “Edmund said you wanted to see me? What’s that you’re holding?” He glanced up to look at her, his sister. She had grown so much in three years; not only growing more mature, but physically as well, for she was only now half a head shorter than Susan now, where she had been at least three heads shorter when they first entered Narnia. Her golden hair reached just above her hips, and she was so proud of how long it had gotten. They had all grown their hair long, his own locks stopping just barely below his shoulders. Peter frowned at the thought of what he was about to do. “I’m afraid I did. I need you to do something for me.” Slowly, his hand around the object opened, one finger after another at an agonizingly slow pace, until his palm lay flat, revealing a simple pair of scissors. Lucy’s eyebrows knotted together, perplexed. “What is this?” It was then the young queen noticed the Magnificent’s solemn expression, her eyes darting to the scissors, and then they slowly made their way back up to his hair. “Peter…” Her voice breaks, beginning to understand their situation, “What is this?” “We knew there was an uprising stirring, of the remaining followers of the Witch. They’ve been burning outlying villages, stealing… killing, and we can let this stand no longer. This started with war, and war seems to be the only way to end it.” His heart breaks at the sight of tears forming in his beloved sisters eyes, his own eyes feeling wet. Her head drops to her chest, her hands covering her face. “We had kept the peace for so long. Everyone here felt safe. We were happy.” “I know, my darling sister. But perhaps once we accomplish this, we will be peaceful again. Now, if it is something you wish not to do, I’m sure Edmund would be willing, but…” He holds out the scissors, and Lucy’s hands lower from her face, her eyes widening at what he’s asking of her. “Edmund wished to cut his own hair in private, but I cannot bring myself to do it, knowing what it means for us, for Narnia…” The young blonde’s hand shot out, wrapping her fingers around the cold metal, finding them heavier that she expected. “You need not carry this burden alone, brother. For as long as I am you sister, I will help you carry it.” “When did you become so wise?” She smiles, moving to stand behind her beloved brother. “It comes with the title, I suppose. Are you ready?” “I don’t think I ever will be, but you should do it before my mind changes.” She nods, and silently, makes the first cut. The strands of hair fall slowly to the ground, sounding louder than they should. Lucy makes quick work of it, not wishing to draw out something that must be miserable for her brother to endure. It can’t take more than twenty minutes, but to the two Pevensie’s, it feels like an entire lifetime. Once the final cut is made, Lucy sets the scissors on the balcony rail, turning to Peter. His eyes have glazed over, staring down at the hair encircling him. Lucy’s heart breaks for her brother, her king, knowing what has to happen next. Peter weakly utters, “We had three years…” and in that moment, the Valiant Queen knows what she must do. Her hand shoots out, wrenching the scissors for their place, bringing them up to her hair around chin length, and cuts. She continues cutting, (more like violently chopping), until all her hair is roughly the same shortness, and only when the scissors in her hand clatter on the cold stone, she realizes her breathing has grown rather ragged. She’s still for a moment, taking in what she had done, and then she looks to Peter. His mouth gapes open, his gaze shooting between his sister and her golden locks now covering his. He opens his mouth, his voice rough and confused. “Lucy, why…?” “How many times must I remind you that you are not Atlas? You needn’t carry the world alone. Don’t forget we’re a family, Peter. You wage war against one, you wage it against us all.” He can’t stop himself from staring at the girl in front of him; this girl who was put in a position of power and took the challenge head on, the girl who was more like a young woman due to her knowledge and wisdom and ferocity. Before he was aware it was happening, he was standing, and Lucy was pulled into his embrace, his strong arms wrapping securely around her shoulders. Her own arms wrapped around his waist, the two simply standing, letting the embrace calm them both. They stood there, neither speaking, but knowing that, as long as they had each other, had their family, everything would be alright.

Many years later, they had formed a tradition, of sorts. Whenever there was to be war, and hair was to be cut, all four monarchs would travel to the stone table to do it. It took Susan some time to agree to the idea, ever the hater of war, but Lucy convinced her, in the end. It was Lucy’s idea, after all, that they go to the stone table for the occasion. “He had his hair cut there for us. Seems only right we cut ours there for him.” It was in those silent moments, when hair fell on broken stone, that they felt the most somber, but also, they knew that it was being cut for a purpose, and the peace that became after war was more than worth the small sacrifice. ———————————————— OOC: As a bit of a note for any who are a bit confused, some backstory. This post was based off of one (I can’t remember who wrote it) but it’s basically a post stating that many nobles, during a time of war, would cut off their hair to signify the end of peace and the start of war. @oh-dont-worry-honey was wonderful and brainstormed headcanons with me, and came up with EXTREMELY good ideas for it, and I’m rather glad with how it came out. I do hope you enjoy it. :)

In Surrounding Company: Part One

For @storiesfromthewardrobe ‘s writing prompt challenge: friendship. 

This is Queen Susan, Queen Lucy, King Edmund, and Tumnus’ very first voyage to the Lone Islands. Set in the Golden Age. 

Enjoy! 

My father once told me of his adventures to the east—the very east beyond the Great River and the Dancing Lawn. He had been to Cair Paravel countless times. His stories of the sight of Cair were glorious, and when I had finally set my very eyes before such the masterpiece, my heart ached of his words. At this time his words about another occasion had ringed true through my mind. My father was once offered to voyage to the Lone Islands at the side of the general in which he was his aide. He strode up on the dock and looked to what was utterly beyond Narnia: the Eastern Sea. He recalled his heart pounding, and his hooves shook at the thought of the unknown. Water is not a faun’s strength. That is when he declined the offer. The general took no offense and even possibly no surprise.

I reflect that I am faced with the very same decision. I stepped onto a dock and looked to the great beyond. I gazed upon the Eastern Sea countless times before, but this time I was left stunned and agape. The reality of beyond Narnia had suddenly come to reality. Beyond there was nothing but a shimmering blue vastness that was rather painful to look at for a longer time. Off to my right was the Splendor Hyaline. To my left was a patiently waiting Just King.

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“Oh, come on, Edmund, I know I can take you!”

Edmund glared at the young prince. He rolled his eyes and continued undoing his armor. “Didn’t you get enough energy out with sword fighting?”

Corin groaned loudly. “But that requires precision and thinking. If I wanted to think, I’d talk to the old geezer Father hired as my tutor.”

“Corin,” Edmund scolded, glancing askance.

“What? He is!” Corin shrugged, though he had the decency to blush. He sighed. “I wish you were my tutor. You could make things interesting.”

Edmund smiled despite himself. He always had a soft spot for the prince. He reminded Edmund in many ways of himself at that age. “Everyone who we come across has something to teach us–if we listen.”

“Oh, wise sage,” Corin feigned reverence and awe in his voice. “Wouldst thou teacheth me how to boxeth? I wish to knock people down.”

Edmund grabbed the crown of Corin’s head and easily pushed him to the ground.

Corin looked up dazed, then angry. “Hey! That wasn’t fair!”

“Boxing has no rules like sword fighting does,” Edmund said innocently. “Sorry, did you think you would win?”

Corin laughed before charging head first towards Edmund’s stomach. The older boy easily knocked him down again.

“Hey!”

Edmund shrugged. “You asked for it.”

Requested by Anonymous

(Gifs from maidie and foxofrp)

“Lucy, really,” Susan sighs exasperatedly, quite suddenly. Though Susan turns her back on her dozing sister as soon as she calls her attention, she still caught Lucy jumping almost a foot in the air, shaking herself awake. Susan stands at the window once again, straining her eyes across the white scenery. Almost a foot of snow covers their courtyard. She told the Calormenes that a trip to Narnia in the winter, while appreciated, might run the risk of getting stranded. It is still snowing, and she’s doing her very best to avoid that prince, Rabadash, and has taken to “gala planning” with Lucy, but every time she thinks it’s safe to go to bed, she hears one of her brothers pass by the door with Rabadash and his horde of flatterers.

Once, she heard Rabadash, his tone thick with sarcasm and fake politeness, trying to reason with Edmund, who was doing everything in his power to drive both Rabadash and Susan crazy. “Really, King Edmund,” she heard Rabadash drawl, “I do appreciate the tour of your home, but I am certain you have taken me down this hallway four times already. And I’ve been here before, you know. Several times.”

“Have you?” Edmund crooned back, interrupting his speech about suits of armor, which was mostly fiction, if Susan wasn’t mistaken. “We get so many visitors. It must have slipped my mind.”

“Sorry, Su,” Lucy yawns, stretching. “I’m paying attention.”

“I am sorry to keep you trapped in here, Lu,” Susan says, turning back towards Lucy, leaning against the windowsill. The cold leaks in and it numbs her hands. “But we ought to have something planned for the Calormenes anyway.”

“You’re right,” Lucy says. “I’m just tired.”

It is late, and for all Lucy’s bravado she is only thirteen, and doing the work of someone much, much older –a full time queen, out at the break of dawn training with the boys, and trapped in this drafty room “planning” a last minute “gala” with Susan. And all the normal queen things she did in between Susan avoiding boys and Edmund trying to wrestle with Lucy in the frostbitten grass.

“You can go to bed, Lu,” Susan decides sitting at the table across from Lucy. “We’ve got a guest count, at least, and made seating arrangements. We don’t really need to pick a color. Besides, I think Peter and Edmund have finally stopped giving Rabadash a fake tour of the castle.”

“It has been almost a half hour since I’ve heard Edmund talk about your toe fungus,” Lucy agrees. But she doesn’t get up, like Susan expects her to. Instead she quirks a lopsided smile at Susan. “So…” she asks. “Are you going to kiss Rabadash?”

“Eugh,” Susan groans. Lucy giggles. “I’m not going to kiss him. Never. Not even if we marry.”

“You really don’t like him?”

“He’s a pompous, self-satisfied flatterer, Lucy,” Susan says. “I couldn’t love him.”

“Oh, don’t be so self-important, Susan,” says Lucy, batting her eyelashes innocently. “You never know.”

“Go to bed, Lucy,” Susan sighs. Lucy laughs devilishly and pops up from her seat, leans over the table to give Susan a kiss, and leaves the room, her skirts swishing defiantly behind her.

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For the friendship prompt for @storiesfromthewardrobe

Lucy and Susan were always different. They complimented each other well, but there were differences, which worked well for Narnia. The four Pevensie’s all had different strengths, allowing them to serve their people best.

One of Susan’s strengths was her ability to entertain any company, the highest kings, the lowest peasant, her poise, gentleness, and grace made her the perfect host.

One of Lucy’s strengths was her ability to make friends with everyone. Not just create allies but truly make friends, with her constant smile, joyful disposition, and love to dance (which in Narnia is a great talent and asset, everyone loves to dance) Lucy gains much love in Narnia.

One of Susan’s weaknesses is her formality. She hardly ever drops the formal side of herself, around her siblings it becomes easier, but around others she is almost always formal. It can be an asset, but she doesn’t share the relationship Lucy does with the dryads and hamadryads.

One of Lucy’s weakness’s, from a certain point of view, is the inability to stand on ceremony. It bugs Susan at times, the fact that Lucy hardly wears shoes if she can help it, the fact that Lucy’s crown is more often tucked in her room than on her head, even during royal audiences. Lucy would rather a crown of daisies and a necklace of wildflowers than a crown of gold and a necklace of jewels.

But then, perhaps their weaknesses are strengths after all, both exactly what Narnia needs, and both loved Narnia and her people more than anything, save Alsan and each other.

@the-western-woods requested “Peter and Edmund taking a day off just to adventure about their country”

Peter swung off his horse, leading him over to the edge of the water, letting him drink from the cool water. Edmund stepped down, rummaging in his sidesaddles to find a canteen, but dropped it back in when Peter squatted to get a drink. Moving on his toes, Edmund crept behind Peter and pushed him headfirst into the water. Peter let out a yelp right before his head went under, arms flailing. 

Edmund let out a loud laugh as Peter sat up in the river, spitting up water. He reached up and pulled a leaf out of his hair. Peter glared, standing up. 

“Sorry, but you needed a bath. You stink,” Edmund laughed, sitting down now.

“Shut it Edmund, I took a bath yesterday. It’s been three hours of riding, I can’t possibly be-”

“Pete, I’m joking.” Edmund said, exasperated. “And you aren’t that wet.”

“Ed! I’m soaking!”

Ed smirked and swung on his horse before Peter could push him in. “Beat you to the next crossing.”

“Edmund, wait! Ed!” Peter groaned and wrung out his sopping shirt, and climbed out of the river, muttering under his breath. 

His Golden Crown (it will fit until it doesn't)

His crown -golden, precious  and royal- doesn’t really fit well in his head. Maybe it could be a metaphor for his life, for he isn’t quite ready to be a king yet, he’s just a english schoolboy. Not a king.

His crown starts to fit better, and he becomes less and less the english and more and more like the narnian. He is more like the king he should be and less like the boy.

His crown fits perfectly now, the precious golden no longer falling off his head. Like a part of his own body. His golden crown is perfect for the man he has become.  No longer a boy, but a Narnian King.

He doesn’t have a crown anymore. Now he is no longer a king but the ghost of one trapped in a boy’s body. He doesn’t have a crown anymore, but maybe one day he will become  himself again. 

Of Sapphire

For @storiesfromthewardrobe‘s first prompt. Please enjoy. 

Of Sapphire

“Sincerity is always appreciated.”

Oneshot/drabble

(Please forgive me as this is my first pairing piece.)

The breeze was enough for Peridan to become aggravated from holding down the parchments. He knew he could have gone inside, but what he needed the most was fresh air. After asking one of the keepers for something to weigh his work down he continued, now less fretful. Although Peridan knew he had something to keep his parchment from taking flight. A box sat below in the empty seat next to him, keeping itself hidden from questions. Peridan heed not to explain, not to them. The only person he needed to tell to be the High King when he finally returned from his campaign in the North. The Just King already knew and gave great advice, maybe in the form of a warning. However, Peridan understood and knew he must be calm and brave. It was not that the Just King forbade him.

They were supposed to join him for tea very shortly. The Just King, Gentle Queen, Valiant Queen disembarked at dusk yesterday. The Queen was rather frustrated and angered. This was supposed to be a brief journey to Galma for a tourney. The three monarchs were to support their knights and participants, but it later turned into countless proposals of marriage, all denied. The Gentle Queen only wished to watch.

King Edmund arrived first to the tea. Sitting down rather abruptly and rubbing the side of his face. Peridan watched, with his book still open in his hands, the King sighed loudly.

“I assume things have become rather an annoyance.” Peridan empathized.

“I pray for my brother’s swift return. For I have had enough. I wish not to see my dear sister angered and now reluctant to attend any events. The proposal is there, Lord Peridan, within reach of becoming official word. It would solve a great deal of stress, yet it cannot be done until the High King returns. I almost want to ride out personally and deliver it to him,” explained Edmund, rather defeated.

Peridan knew very well about this proposal, for he was one of the authors. It was an amendment about marriages. All partners would become regents to the Narnia throne. For marriage was to be from the unity of lovers. Something Queen Susan and even High King Peter—occasionally—never saw in their suitors. They were there for the power and riches using their words so tactfully. If someone was honest, the feelings were never mutual. Which was most unfortunate.

This was what made Peridan grow nervous day by day as they finally arrived to this morning.

Peridan always had a steadfast friendship with the four monarchs ever since he had arrived. They all appreciated his wisdom and also humanity. With the exception of themselves and Tumnus, Peridan was someone they could go to personally. A friendship like that was well needed for the monarchs.

Finally, Susan arrived. She was dressed rather plainly since she knew there would not be any guests to attend to today. Although, the blue dress extraordinary brought out her eyes. Furthermore, her hair was kept together, as it was that night. Queen Susan’s did not wish for such finery today. She only wanted to relax and be amongst dear friends.

Peridan watched thoughtlessly as she moved gracefully towards her chair. He had moved the parchment for her gathering it to the side. The young Lord was pulling the tea towards them as Queen Susan arose rather abruptly with a small gasp. Peridan looked over to see her with the box in her hands, giggling.

The Lord swallowed thickly as the box was given to him. Peridan wished they were now served something stronger than tea.

With the small box wrapped in green fabric hung in the air, Peridan wished the pitch of his voice was not as high. Although, that was only for him to believe. “My Queen, that is for you. I apologize for the rather unorthodox way of receiving it. I forgot I had laid it there.”

With a gracious smile, Susan began to open the box. She opened it slowly, and that was when her smile slightly faded to one of bewilderment. Inside was a necklace and—by Aslan—Peridan had sought for such finery. Edmund had also had a pang of realization hit him. Peridan had left abruptly for a few days just before they made their voyage to Galma. He had kept the details about the trip to himself. Now Edmund had put the two things together. Peridan had sought out this beautiful necklace for Susan.

Queen Susan had received many gifts of finery. However, this topped them all. She knew everything was from Narnia. Every sapphire that was placed on the necklace. The yellows, oranges, purples, and green came together to centerpiece the blue. All glistened in the morning sunlight. She also knew who the craftsmen were. The dwarf silversmith who had made their crowns. The silver bounds and chain would match her crown very well.

Susan looked to Peridan. “It is most stunning, and I am most thankful, but what ever is the occasion?”

Peridan took a quick breath before beginning. “There is none, my Queen. You are most strong, beautiful, and gentle. I mean no ills, for we have known each other for a very long time. I even have taken the honor of calling you, Queen Susan, one of my dearest friends. I wish there were a better time. A time without the aftermath of frustrations where it pains me to watch. As hand in writing the amendment, it shall be law, but I also want to say that I love you. This love goes further than a love for Narnia. Please take my consideration. I only wish to see you and your family happy.”

With a smile gleaming from her face, she looked to her brother to see his response. Laid back in his seat with tea in hand as he witnessed the entire proposal, Edmund smiled and nodded. Edmund knew he might have to do some explaining since he had an idea in his mind about Peridan’s plans for quite some time. Unfortunately, he just did not have the right time to act upon it. Peridan had probably realized there was no need to wait for such a time.

Susan placed the necklace of sapphires back into its box. “No words, Lord Peridan, can describe my joy for such sincerity you have. I do not consider, but I accept. Let’s wait for the High King to come back as I hope his pleasing is as much as mine.”

“It will be,” said Edmund with a small chuckle.

“Why yes, but Lord Peridan, while the necklace is spectacular and will remind me forever of this day. I wish for no gifts; only the genuine sincerity that you have always brought to me.”

Peridan blushed slightly. The words were strangled in his mouth as he was flooded with joy. “As you wish.”

the silver crown

ao3 // ff.net

fandom: narnia // words: 1,617

Susan halts outside her door and adjusts her robe on her shoulders before cautiously proceeding down the corridor, each footstep seeming to echo as she slinks through the darkened, deserted hall. She can only see faint shadows at the end of the hall where the moon streams through a small window onto the black stones below.

She misses electricity.

As Susan steps down the cold, stone stairs, she shivers after a yawn stretches her jaw fully open; she wishes she could collapse on her bed and fall into blissful sleep, but she can’t. The bed is much softer and the sheets much smoother than her bed in England, and it’s just too unfamiliar for her to be comfortable and so the sweet welcome of dreams remains elusive.

She makes her way steadily down to the main floor of the caste, peering into shadows and darkness as she goes but unable to find another awakened soul. After ducking her head into different chambers, she arrives at the heavy doors guarding the entrance to the main hall, pulls them back with straining muscles, and slips inside the small crack that appears between the doors.

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