![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
edenfallingThis is in response to a prompt from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
annearchy: Narnia, Lucy Pevensie, age 13, wanting...something?. It is also a 15-minute fic, though I confess it actually took me thirty minutes to write. (Shh, don't tell!)
Queen Lucy the Valiant rides to the wars, despite Father Christmas's prescription that women should avoid battles. How did that come about? (900 words)
[ETA: The AO3 crosspost is now up.]
---------------------------------------------
Commonly to the Wars
---------------------------------------------
Ruling a kingdom is rarely a glamorous business if one buckles down to do the job right. Most jobs are not especially glamorous when one gets down to the details. But those that involve public service are a particular combination of deathly dull mornings reviewing tax rolls, frustrating afternoons attempting to make a dozen people agree on anything as simple as what to eat for dinner let alone how to find money to repair a road (or even whether said road needs repairing in the first place), and wearying evenings smiling at guests one frequently dislikes, in hopes that they will be amenable to doing things to help one's country instead of harming it.
Violence is not glamorous either, but if nothing else, it provides a bit of variation.
By the time she was thirteen, Lucy had seen her brothers ride off to the wars six times -- thrice against the northern giants, who took Jadis's death as an invitation to expand southward, twice against the remnants of the Witch's army that had built a stronghold on the border of the Western Wild near the Great Waterfall, and once against Sarovence whose king had decided that a tenuous blood connection to the old royal family of Narnia gave him a stronger claim on the newly uncursed land than four upstart peasants from another world.
Each time Lucy and Susan waited in Cair Paravel, managing the everyday round of governance and preparing for a siege, should any be forthcoming. In the event, they were only attacked the once -- by a division of King Feyraud's army -- and promptly saw the invaders off, but the tense excitement of that engagement woke Lucy's heart to the ways she had not been serving her country.
When the Lone Islands formally declared themselves in rebellion against the crown -- or, more accurately, when they declared themselves never to have been lawfully incorporated into Narnia in the first place -- Lucy followed Peter and Edmund to the sunlit room beside the Great Hall that had become the informal war council chamber and said, "I'm coming with you."
"No," said Peter, flatly. Behind them, Edmund quickly shut the door before any of their advisors could follow them in.
"Yes," said Lucy, folding her arms over her chest. Then she adjusted them slightly -- she kept forgetting she had a hint of a figure now, though nothing like Susan, of course. "I am a queen of Narnia. You have no right to prevent me from defending our country. Furthermore, our navy is still small. You won't have the resources to set up a full field hospital if you're fighting from shipboard, and there's no telling when you'll be able to make landfall on any of the three isles. If I am there with you, I can handle the worst cases myself."
"No," Peter said again, folding his arms in turn and staring down from his now-impressive height. "You and Susan are too important to risk in the wars, and in any case, Edmund and I depend on you remaining in Narnia to ensure the country is properly governed and no one invades in our absence."
"If Susan and I are too important to lose, how can you and Edmund possibly matter less?" Lucy asked. "You are the High King. He writes all our laws."
"It's our duty to risk our lives," Peter said. "We are knights as well as kings, and that service at the expense of self is part of the oath we swore to Aslan and to Narnia. You and Susan are free of that burden, and I would not see you rashly shoulder it. Remember what Father Christmas said: 'Battles are ugly when women fight.'"
"Battles are ugly when anyone fights," Lucy said, uncrossing her arms. She strode forward and wrapped herself around her brother in a hug. "Peter. Brother. If you make this a royal command, I will stay home. But please, don't cripple me trying to keep me safe. Susan and I worry every time you and Edmund ride out to battle, but we let you go because we know you are thinking of us and of Narnia. You give everything you have to serve our country. How can you ask me to do any less?"
"She has a point, brother," Edmund said quietly from where he leaned against the closed door.
Peter scowled. But slowly, he let himself relax and return Lucy's embrace. "You cannot ask me to like this," he murmured.
"I would not be so cruel," Lucy murmured back, pressing her head against her brother's chest. "Thank you, Peter. I will stay in the rear with the archers. That much peace of mind I can promise you."
They stood in silence for a minute before Edmund cleared his throat. "With all that resolved," he said, "perhaps we should allow our councilors in and begin planning the voyage?"
"Yes, of course," Lucy said, stepping back and straightening her mussed hair and dress. Peter took his seat at the head of the oval table and laid his naked sword before him to symbolize the nature of the discussion at hand.
When Edmund opened the door and allowed Mr. Tumnus and the others in, Lucy took the chair at her brother's right hand. No one gainsaid her right to that place, and Edmund smiled at her when he took the seat opposite Peter.
One week later she sailed east with her brothers, to war.
---------------------------------------------
Inspired by the 11/6/11![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15_minute_fic word #205: menace
---------------------------------------------
That is not quite third-person omniscient -- you can tell I'm still in Lucy's POV, inasmuch as I'm in anybody's -- but it's a lot closer than I usually come. I should practice that some more sometime...
Random note: Sarovence and Mergandy are two countries I have invented to lie between Archenland and Telmar, on a westward line in the mountains just north of the great desert. This means Telmar is far enough west that its northern border is the Western Wild rather than Narnia, which, given that the Wild is solely inhabited by Talking Beasts and other Beings -- no humans allowed, not even to rule and keep order -- is why the Telmarine Narnians had completely lost contact with their mother country by Caspian's day. Isn't world-building fun? :-D
annearchy: Narnia, Lucy Pevensie, age 13, wanting...something?. It is also a 15-minute fic, though I confess it actually took me thirty minutes to write. (Shh, don't tell!)Queen Lucy the Valiant rides to the wars, despite Father Christmas's prescription that women should avoid battles. How did that come about? (900 words)
[ETA: The AO3 crosspost is now up.]
---------------------------------------------
Commonly to the Wars
---------------------------------------------
Ruling a kingdom is rarely a glamorous business if one buckles down to do the job right. Most jobs are not especially glamorous when one gets down to the details. But those that involve public service are a particular combination of deathly dull mornings reviewing tax rolls, frustrating afternoons attempting to make a dozen people agree on anything as simple as what to eat for dinner let alone how to find money to repair a road (or even whether said road needs repairing in the first place), and wearying evenings smiling at guests one frequently dislikes, in hopes that they will be amenable to doing things to help one's country instead of harming it.
Violence is not glamorous either, but if nothing else, it provides a bit of variation.
By the time she was thirteen, Lucy had seen her brothers ride off to the wars six times -- thrice against the northern giants, who took Jadis's death as an invitation to expand southward, twice against the remnants of the Witch's army that had built a stronghold on the border of the Western Wild near the Great Waterfall, and once against Sarovence whose king had decided that a tenuous blood connection to the old royal family of Narnia gave him a stronger claim on the newly uncursed land than four upstart peasants from another world.
Each time Lucy and Susan waited in Cair Paravel, managing the everyday round of governance and preparing for a siege, should any be forthcoming. In the event, they were only attacked the once -- by a division of King Feyraud's army -- and promptly saw the invaders off, but the tense excitement of that engagement woke Lucy's heart to the ways she had not been serving her country.
When the Lone Islands formally declared themselves in rebellion against the crown -- or, more accurately, when they declared themselves never to have been lawfully incorporated into Narnia in the first place -- Lucy followed Peter and Edmund to the sunlit room beside the Great Hall that had become the informal war council chamber and said, "I'm coming with you."
"No," said Peter, flatly. Behind them, Edmund quickly shut the door before any of their advisors could follow them in.
"Yes," said Lucy, folding her arms over her chest. Then she adjusted them slightly -- she kept forgetting she had a hint of a figure now, though nothing like Susan, of course. "I am a queen of Narnia. You have no right to prevent me from defending our country. Furthermore, our navy is still small. You won't have the resources to set up a full field hospital if you're fighting from shipboard, and there's no telling when you'll be able to make landfall on any of the three isles. If I am there with you, I can handle the worst cases myself."
"No," Peter said again, folding his arms in turn and staring down from his now-impressive height. "You and Susan are too important to risk in the wars, and in any case, Edmund and I depend on you remaining in Narnia to ensure the country is properly governed and no one invades in our absence."
"If Susan and I are too important to lose, how can you and Edmund possibly matter less?" Lucy asked. "You are the High King. He writes all our laws."
"It's our duty to risk our lives," Peter said. "We are knights as well as kings, and that service at the expense of self is part of the oath we swore to Aslan and to Narnia. You and Susan are free of that burden, and I would not see you rashly shoulder it. Remember what Father Christmas said: 'Battles are ugly when women fight.'"
"Battles are ugly when anyone fights," Lucy said, uncrossing her arms. She strode forward and wrapped herself around her brother in a hug. "Peter. Brother. If you make this a royal command, I will stay home. But please, don't cripple me trying to keep me safe. Susan and I worry every time you and Edmund ride out to battle, but we let you go because we know you are thinking of us and of Narnia. You give everything you have to serve our country. How can you ask me to do any less?"
"She has a point, brother," Edmund said quietly from where he leaned against the closed door.
Peter scowled. But slowly, he let himself relax and return Lucy's embrace. "You cannot ask me to like this," he murmured.
"I would not be so cruel," Lucy murmured back, pressing her head against her brother's chest. "Thank you, Peter. I will stay in the rear with the archers. That much peace of mind I can promise you."
They stood in silence for a minute before Edmund cleared his throat. "With all that resolved," he said, "perhaps we should allow our councilors in and begin planning the voyage?"
"Yes, of course," Lucy said, stepping back and straightening her mussed hair and dress. Peter took his seat at the head of the oval table and laid his naked sword before him to symbolize the nature of the discussion at hand.
When Edmund opened the door and allowed Mr. Tumnus and the others in, Lucy took the chair at her brother's right hand. No one gainsaid her right to that place, and Edmund smiled at her when he took the seat opposite Peter.
One week later she sailed east with her brothers, to war.
---------------------------------------------
Inspired by the 11/6/11
15_minute_fic word #205: menace---------------------------------------------
That is not quite third-person omniscient -- you can tell I'm still in Lucy's POV, inasmuch as I'm in anybody's -- but it's a lot closer than I usually come. I should practice that some more sometime...
Random note: Sarovence and Mergandy are two countries I have invented to lie between Archenland and Telmar, on a westward line in the mountains just north of the great desert. This means Telmar is far enough west that its northern border is the Western Wild rather than Narnia, which, given that the Wild is solely inhabited by Talking Beasts and other Beings -- no humans allowed, not even to rule and keep order -- is why the Telmarine Narnians had completely lost contact with their mother country by Caspian's day. Isn't world-building fun? :-D
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 10:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-09 04:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-09 09:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-09 10:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-09 11:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-10 12:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-10 08:30 pm (UTC)Also I just love Lucy, and she is wonderful here. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-11 03:50 am (UTC)Lucy IS wonderful, amen, the end. Anybody who tries to argue against that is just wrong. :-)