#narnia lucy

[archibald-2017]

Something something being the awkward sister that feels like a complete failure and inadequate in comparison to her much more confident sister.

[heliads]

ooh what about a narnia oneshot where lucy introduces her girlfriend to her family (while they're still kings and queens) but they're both scared that the pevensies won't be accepting? but then there's just a lot of fluff and happiness at the end. thank you!

masterlist

A little bit before dawn, Lucy Pevensie decides that the truth must be told after all. It is dark out still, but she knows what she knows and she cannot guess at what she doesn’t, so any mysteries must wait out there still, disguised from her in that empty blackness.

They can’t hide forever. The needle of her fast-fading crescent moon has begun to pierce through the dark veil of night, threading through the pitch blackness with newer strands of light. Soon, the brightness of a fresh sun will fall upon her land, her Narnia, and no longer will she be able to keep a certain secret from her siblings any longer.

Lucy tells you not a few hours after she wakes. She waits until you’re up to, kind enough to let you sleep while you can, but her mind is most certainly made up by the time you’re conscious enough to realize it. This can’t wait any longer, she says. If they haven’t guessed at it already, you’re both running out of time before they do.

It’s not like you haven’t seen this coming. From the moment you fell in love with Lucy and she with you, from the moment you started courting each other in secret, you knew that you would have to tell the rest of the Pevensies at some point. They stick to each other like hot wax, terribly afraid of anything splitting each other apart. They’ve only had themselves for so long, you know that, you know that their hesitancy about letting outsiders into their inner circle isn’t unfounded, but it doesn’t make your task any easier.

After all, you’re the stranger in this circumstance, the foreigner attempting to intrude on their easy balance of four by falling in love with their youngest sibling. They aren’t opposed to you in any way, or at least not now while they’re still unaware that you’re dating Lucy. Who knows what might happen later, but now is good.

You’re still a friend of the family at the moment. You were one of the first people they met upon taking to the Narnian thrones; a friend of necessity, of circumstance, then of similar disposition. You won over all of them in turn through tact and bravery and kindness, but Lucy– well, you never had to fight to make Lucy like you. You never had to fight her at all. She took you by surprise the first time you saw her and then you were gone, gone for good.

That’s the thing about falling for a queen, after all. You’re not supposed to, and most people manage to keep it to themselves or at least squash the feeling down in the pits of their stomachs until it dies forever, but you never managed any of that. You loved Lucy and you never stopped. You never could.

She made it impossible to stop. For as long as you loved Lucy, she loved you too. She loves the world and it follows her wherever she goes, breath caught in anticipation to see what she will do next. You were a part of that uncontrollable crowd, so how could you turn your affection to any other person?

Especially not when she fell in love with you, too, and more than just a familiar love to be bestowed to anyone with a good heart. Lucy’s first love was you, and if her late night and early morning promises are to be believed, you’ll be her last one, too. It will begin and end with you.

You do believe her; you always do. You believe her when she looks you in the eyes and says that you must tell the rest of the Pevensies, no dallying about it any longer. You trust her when she tells you this is the right choice, when she promises that she’ll stick with you no matter what. You ask her what she’ll do if they threaten to send you away forever or something and she laughs; says fine, then, we’ll take to the countryside together, and you know you’ll be okay.

And that’s– well, that’s Lucy Pevensie for you, you suppose. Ferocious, sweet, braver than anything Lucy Pevensie. Lucy, whom you met in the middle of the woods when neither of you were supposed to be there, Lucy, who immediately pulled you by the hand as she ran even further inside the twisted masses of green, Lucy, whose feet were so fast that she accidentally tugged both of you down into the current of the river as you attempted to navigate a precarious bridge of stepping stones.

Lucy, who laughed with you as your gowns grew sodden with cold water. Lucy, who kept trying to offer you her cloak even weeks after the incident on the off chance that you might still be cold. Lucy, who has loved you more fiercely than anyone in this world or the next could hope to be loved in all of their wildest dreams, and still has enough space in her heart to worry about her siblings. 

That is the Lucy you love, and the one you wouldn’t dream of leaving behind in the slightest. Not even the demands of High Kings and Queens could rid Lucy of her place in your heart, even if they were to physically separate you by exiling you or some worse fate. She would still be there, still yours, but only in your mind. It would allow you to keep some part of her, though, so it could not be the most terrible fate in the land.

With all your fears thus assuaged, the only thing left to do is to tell the three royals of Narnia as of yet blissfully unaware of the courtship situation of their youngest relation. They’re sitting together in the garden as they do most mornings, breathing in the fresh air and recollecting memories of a world utterly foreign to you. They smile as you approach, but their air is questioning; usually mornings in the garden are for Pevensies only, yet here you are anyway.

High King Peter looks up when the two of you draw close enough to speak. “Good morning, both of you. Did you sleep well?”

Common courtesy is easiest at a moment like this, and you curtsy quickly and murmur that you did, then thank him for asking. Lucy clears her throat, clearly rallying herself for this, then speaks at last. “I would like to introduce Lady Y/N to all of you.”

Queen Susan frowns, placing a bookmark back in the pages of the text she holds close. “We already know Y/N, Luce.”

Lucy sighs, briefly annoyed. “I know that. I am introducing her to you as my girlfriend.”

Silence descends upon the garden. For a moment, no one says anything at all, and you and Lucy breathe in and out slowly in shared paranoia until Edmund crows in victory and turns to Susan with a delighted grin.

“I told you they were dating! You owe me three gold coins.”

Lucy’s jaw drops with horror. “You two had a bet on me dating Y/N? You’re horrific, both of you.”

Peter manages to turn his laugh into a cough. “That’s terrible, both of you. Apologize to your sister.”

Edmund rolls his eyes. “You’re just bitter because you didn’t see this coming. I told you it was a thing.”

Lucy looks as if she’d like to settle this with a well-placed punch to the nose, but you quickly intercede before any fights can break out, verbal or otherwise. “Does this mean that you’re alright with it? Me courting Lucy, I mean.”

Susan’s smile grows kind instead of merely mirthful. “Of course we’re fine with it, Y/N. You’ve been wonderful since the day we met you. If there was anyone in this whole castle, or in all of Narnia, for that matter, that we’d want with Lucy, you would have to be at the top of our list.”

“She already was at the top of my list,” Edmund mutters under his breath, “Need I remind you again that I totally called this?”

Peter swats Edmund, then turns back to you with a wry grin. “See, the only problem is that you now have to put up with the lot of us even more than before. Earlier, we had to be on our best behavior because we were kings and queens and all that, but now that you’re dating Lucy, we can be properly frightful in front of you.”

You laugh. “I’m perfectly alright with that.”

And why wouldn’t you be alright with it, after all? You have Lucy’s love guaranteed, and you love her just as much as she adores you. The Pevensies aren’t just accepting of you and Lucy seeing each other, they’re firmly in favor of it. You are beginning a new day in a castle, you have a queen holding your hand, and you could not be happier if you tried. You have Lucy; what need do you have for anything else?

requested by @redbirdbluebird, i hope you enjoy!

narnia tag list: empty for now!

[liridi]

Once there were four children

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

But what was most baffling to all that met the Pevensies after they came back was that they were kind.

Really. Not pretending, not because they were insecure. True, empathic. Far too understanding for children their age. They all have music in them.

Peter’s hands feel too small for him, but he shakes hands all the same. Gentle pressure. There is nobility behind those eyes. Eyes that always border on the supernatural sort of blue, especially in the dark.

He plays the guitar, gently coaxing otherworldly sounds out of an instrument that did not know it could be played like that. He helps his siblings with their homework, is taller much faster than his peers. Seems to take up more space, even though no one understands how a teenage boy manages that.

He doesn’t like doing nothing, ever. He instructs his classmates in grammar, gives away figures he cuts from wood with a knife that seems too sharp for a boy that small. He never hurts himself, though.

As the years pass, Peter grows strong. But he is gentle. He does not seem to be brash, even when many of his friends are. Peter keeps his emotions in check. Noble. Not undangerous, but not belligerent. Peter only ends fights, and only with people that deserve it.

He offers advice, a pat on the back. Teachers wanna dislike him, some do not like the look behind those eyes. Most find they cannot. Peter is popular with both adults and children, speaks sense and laughs often.

Peter is kind. Pious, devout. His faith is unmovable like rock. Did the kids meet God on the estate of their uncle?

Edmund plays the violin. A sad Edmund is a rare sight, but when he plays sad he can keep his whole floor awake. Somehow, Peter always finds h him quickly, effortlessly attuned to his brother’s moods. They play chess, then. Their chess master must have been a champion, Ed beats people with ease. He’s usually not smug about it.

Ed speaks politics and war in earnest, accepts critique graciously, is elegant in a way Peter never manages. Peter speaks frankly, but Edmund can wrap words up real nice. He doesn’t mince words, but his classmates grow into liking the sound of his voice. They appreciate that Edmund does not lie, even when speaking tactfully. Edmund can dial the temperature in a room, change it to suit himself.

He, too, laughs often, but Edmund is known to smirk. He likes being right and he often is. He’ll entertain anyone with a good story, always seems to have the right information to help you out. Remedies to illness, connections, job openings, how to sneak out of PE.

He’s a spider in a web. A bit reserved for a 11 year old, and oddly well-connected. A real ghost when he wants to be, but he never scares people with it.

Aslan would not approve of that. He believes in God as well, but much more intellectually. He’s got the intelligence to back it up and wit to match. A scholarly belief, but not lacking conviction.

Teachers like his enthousiasm, remember a moody nagging child when he left and see a secure young man come back.

Edmund will stand up for what is right. He gets into some trouble like that, but his verbal agility saves him always. Edmund has strong principles and will not bend them for anyone. No matter the trouble he gets in.

The bond with his brother is unbreakable. They even walk the same, chest out, left hand on their belt. They seem most at ease when fencing.

Susan was always warm and tenderhearted, but when she comes back there is a difference.

She seems to have gained authority. It’s real strange watching a 13-year old use her beauty like a grown woman, but Susan has learned to wield it, to stun people so she can creep under their skin. People LISTEN to her now.

Her wit is like a knife, but she avoids cutting deep. Susan is reasonable, and strong, and principled. The little drama others get involved in does not bother her, and she seems immune to petty insults. She has killed before, with her hands.

She will do it with kindness now. She is not very approachable ( that would be Lucy ), but she is kind. She used to mother over her brothers and sisters, but now that they have raised each other in a court full of magic she has gotten more relaxed. They listen to her on important issues, trust in her judgement. Her brothers does not deem himself more important, she is both well-spoken and well-respected by her siblings. Equal. It baffles the old men that teach her. Irritates them, too.

There is an air of mystery around her. Half a look is enough to get what she wants, Susan’s friends laud her security in herself, her Mona Lisa smile. She seems to temper moods easily, makes people feel at ease.

She most of everyone exudes royalty. It’s the grace. Susan plays the harp, her long fingers dancing across the strings like she’s had a lifetime of practice. She’s elegant, never caught off guard. Jamais faux pas.

She does not get angry. She knows who she will be. She is anxious to become an adult, yes, but she only wishes to look how she feels. Not to look differently. Yet the wish to be taken seriously, to have someone see you as an adult, it makes her surprisingly similar to her peers.

Her friends have not been old yet, is all. But Susan is calm and collected. People see her as someone you can tell a secret to. She never hurts someone, is usually a neutral party, speaks sense to adult and kids alike. She is not ignorant, however, will use every trick in the book to keep the peace. She knows when to go nuclear. Vis pacem para bellum.

Lucy is a sun in human form. She has a joie de vivre that is unmatched, is gay and golden-haired and never in a bad mood.

Lucy is kind by default, does not turn it off, does not turn it down. She’s witty and funny and quick on her feet. She has been grown before, yes, but enjoys being young for a few years more. She dances, sings old tunes. Her voice is her favorite instrument, you can usually hear Lucy coming.

Whistling a tune in the halls is known to improve the moods of everyone who hears it immensely. Young girls need to figure out who they are, but Lucy knows, knows what she’ll be and who she likes and what kind of people she wants to be around. She is not pretending, never moody. She can get sad, of course, but her older brothers and sisters are always nearby when that happens.

Lucy is genuine and fierce and convinced, immovable at times. Admired for her drive, but respected for her empathy. She speaks to everyone, often distributes flowers. There’s no naivite in her at all, she simply wishes to be like this so that the world may imitate her. She likes to see people prosper, is the first with praise.

She will go far, is the consensus. There’s steel beneath the soft exterior, Lucy has fire below the flowers. She’s well-liked and well-loved. She has love in spades, it seems, animals and stragglers and misfits and outcasts. She’s popular, her room is a good place to get a cup of tea and someone who will listen to you for some time. After a while she no longer bothers with the door.

That a heart that size fits in a girl that small is a mystery to many. Lucy does not think it is a mystery at all. It is the heart of a lion.

Her faith is as vocal as the rest of her, she sees it confirmed in all that is beautiful, all that is kind. She never tries to convert anyone but there are several people who have told her that version of God is someone they would like to know.

The Pevensies often see each other at parties, where they like to stand together. Edmund knows about everyone, everyone knows Peter, everyone likes Susan, but it is Lucy who knows everyone.

They are kind, but not weak. Peter gets his knuckles bloody sometimes, Edmund does not abide by the rules of unjust teachers. Susan and Lucy solve their problems differently but no less effective. Kindness is their usual way of operating, but they are still kings and queens. They will not allow cruelty, will not let bullies go unpunished.

They are sure of what they are and sure of what comes after death and this makes them kind. Kind , not harmless. Kind, not spineless. Kind, not ignorant. Kind, not naive.

Kind despite. Maybe kind because. The kings and queens of Narnia are proud of what they are, honour the teachings of their lion friend. Kind.

When the crash happens and three siblings die, everyone they know mourns deeply. Without them, the world is less kind.

[crinbyignby]

When the plot has four dumbass siblings who mess with each other

[qilingxiong]

knew i was right for looking up to lucy pevensie from childhood

[mikilavellan]

To the girl in my literature class who referred to the forgiveness of Mr. Tumnus as "just christian propoganda," you have lived rent free in my head for three years.

When you one day find yourself looking in the mirror and seeing Mr. Tumnus looking back at you, not because you were necessarily not brave enough, wise enough, or kind enough to avoid becoming Mr. Tumnus, but because everyone takes a turn being Mr. Tumnus, I hope you have a Lucy by your side.

[supernovasilence]

Ok we all talk about the Pevensies' trauma at returning to Earth at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and their trouble readjusting to life there again but think of all the funny/good parts too

They return from the country, and their mom is surprised when all her children hug her at the station. Even Peter, who thinks he's all grown up. Even Edmund, who went away surly and withdrawn. She doesn't know her children haven't seen her in over a decade.

They miss their dear Cair Paravel, but they absolutely do not miss its chamber pots. Indoor plumbing is amazing.

It takes a while to remember how modern technology works, though. How many heart attacks did the siblings give their parents or the professor because they walked into a dark room only to turn on the light and find the children sitting there in the dark. (They were by the window! There was still plenty of light from the sunset! They would have gotten a candle in a minute!) The kids sheepishly remember oh yeah electricity is a thing.

(Edmund has a new electric torch in Prince Caspian. He was so excited to get that torch. Almost more excited than you'd think a kid his age would be, and his parents expect Peter at least to tease him, but the siblings all agree light in your hand at the touch of a switch is terrific.)

Suddenly getting really high grades in some subjects and terrible in others. Their grammar, reading comprehension, spelling, vocab, even penmanship? Amazing. History and geography? They don't remember anything. One time in class Susan forgets Earth is round and wants to die.

Also they can never remember what the date is supposed to be because Narnia uses different months and years. They can estimate time really well by looking at the sun though, and Edmund at least can always tell which way is north etc without thinking about it (again, using the sun)

Okay but how many times did they go to pick something up or reach something and realize they are so much shorter and less muscled than they expect? It's a common sight to see Peter climbing on counters to reach a top cabinet, grumbling about how he's High King this is demeaning. (No he never takes the extra five seconds to grab a stool. He will climb that shelf.)

Peter and Susan being delighted because they are no longer almost thirty. (In a few years Edmund and Lucy will tease them about being old and their parents will not understand.)

Lucy doesn't have to deal with periods anymore for a few years yet. Susan might not either. Heck yeah

Lucy loves to climb into her siblings' laps and be cuddled. In Narnia she eventually she grew too big, but now she is small and snuggleable again. Peter is her favorite, and if she's upset, he'll tickle her and tell bad jokes until she's smiling again, but really she loves cuddling with all her family. She grew up without her parents; how many times did she just want to crawl into her mom's lap and her mom was a world away? Imagine the first time she realizes she can now. Or, imagine one day, a cold and grey sort of day, when the rain is pattering against the windows, and it sounds like the rain on the windows of the Professor's house, that first day they went exploring. It sounds like the day they played hide and seek. It sounds so like the rain on the windows of Cair Paravel, that if Lucy closes her eyes she can imagine she's back there, having tea and chatting with Mr. Tumnus before the fireplace of her room, and soon the rain will stop, and they will go out on the balcony and wave to the naiads and the dryads and the mermaids, who have come out to enjoy the rain and visit one other on the banks of the Great River winding past Cair Paravel down to the sea.

But if Lucy looks out the window, all she'll see is the rain over London, so it's not only a cold and grey sort of day, it's a lonely sort of day too.

Susan and Edmund are playing chess in the living room (and they must have studied with Professor Kirke, thinks their mother, because they certainly weren't that good when they left). Lucy goes over to Edmund, and oh dear, thinks their mother, now he's going to call her a baby and be horrible to her, but instead he picks her up and puts her on his lap without even taking his eyes off the chessboard; it's simply a matter of course.

"Doesn't the rain sound familiar?" says Lucy in a solemn, wistful way.

Their mother doesn't know what that means, but her siblings must, because Susan says, "Yes, Lu, it does,” and Edmund gives her a little hug with his free arm as she tucks herself under his chin to watch the chess match.

(Five minutes later there is a crash from the next room as Peter falls off a counter. Their mother does not understand the words he must have picked up from the Professor, but he's grounded for them anyway. His siblings have no respect for their High King, because they refuse to stop laughing.)

[thirstywaffles]

Got bored and doodled older Pevensies

[zluty-spendlik]

Caspian and co were like "gosh this duel idea is great and all, but how the heck are we gonna get Miraz, whos army is like three times bigger, to agree to it??"

And the Pevensies were all like: "No yeah we'll just send this little shit right here, he can provoke anyone into doing anything, trust us"

While Edmund so-you-bravely-refuse-to-fight-a-swordsman-half-your-age Pevensie just raised an eyebrow, grinning.

[minamorris1857]

Can we talk about how chaotic Narnian battles would feel?? Especially in Prince Caspian. Like, imagine you’re a little Telmarine soldier waiting for the catapults to go and you’ve got all your regiments in nice orderly rows and these two 16 year olds suddenly yell “charge” and the ground opens up beneath you, a mouse with a sword the size of a large pencil takes out your bestie, a griffin drops a dwarf 5 ft away from you and he comes up swinging. As you try to rationalize this, you’re stabbed by a twelve year old with a British accent. Finally, a really freaking big lion shows up, roars, and your entire army collectively pees their pants. At one point in the movie (yes I know the movies aren’t quite the same as the book but they’re still good) Peter says like “we have the element of surprise” like dude, you have drafted the trees I’m pretty sure everyone’s gonna be surprised no matter what.

[goldenvulpine]

Yearly Reminder that C.S Lewis encouraged his fans to write fanfiction about Susan Pevensie becoming a friend to Narnia and reuniting with her family once again.

Literally inviting his fans to write Susan’s adult, angsty character development with a happy ending.

Do your duty fans. Write that fanfiction.

[western-woods]

I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia? No, not for a long time… But the hope that you've brought, your majesties, have finally started to weaken the Witch's power.

[rosettyller]

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (2005)

[kingorqueenofnarnia]

Peter, fifteen and fresh out of a bloody and brutal war, sneaking out of Cair Paravel in the middle of the night and going to the river, sticking his head into ice-cold water to shock himself out of a nightmare riddled sleep. Narnia won, but at what cost?

Peter, lying in Susan's bed with his fingers curled tightly into the fabric of her skirts, dried tear tracks on his face and Susan singing quietly in an effort to comfort him. Her fingers pick apart the strands of his hair and he falls asleep only to wake up an hour later with screams on his lips.

Peter, wrapping his arms around an Edmund who has returned from war and murmuring frantic thanks to the Gods for keeping him alive. He presses kisses on Edmund's forehead, cheeks, nose and eyelids, and considers the idea of never letting any of his siblings out of his sight ever again.

Peter, sitting on the High King's throne at the age of thirteen and wondering if he is worthy of this, if he deserves this, if he is capable of this. He is thirteen and barely knows anything about anything and he is High King who should know everything about everything is he worthy is he deserving is he capable he does not know—

Peter, in Lucy's room sitting on the floor with his back pressed to her bed, allowing her to braid flowers into his hair as he stares at the wall. The Victory Parade is in a few hours, but they lost many soldiers and people and Peter has lost sleep and sanity and good friends. Narnia has won but Peter has lost.

Peter, carrying a candle to the Castle Library at two in the morning and pulling out a book about children's fables. He cannot sleep, might as well distract himself. The candle dies down and the sun comes up, and Peter drags himself back to his quarters to get ready.

Peter, who locks himself in his chambers and does not come out for days and days, who refuses food and drink and buries himself under his blankets and stares out the window with blank eyes and slack eyebrows, who does not speak and does not cry and pushes his face into his pillow and screams for the nightmares to go away please I'll do better I just want to sleep please stop please—

Peter, who wants peace and contentment, but cannot help but go to war. Peter, who is quiet and introspective but needs to be loud and abrasive because he is High King. Peter, who wishes he could put down the sword that he wields as easily as he breathes.

Peter, who desires peace, but becomes a God of War

[rainintheevening]

It's Edmund who figures it out first, you know, who Aslan is. Like, a week after they're back in England, they go with the Professor to the little village church, and they stand and sing Amazing Grace, and the rector preaches something about Jesus dying for sinners, and Edmund is nailed to the pew with utter certainty: That's Aslan.

He doesn't say it directly to anybody, he has to chew it over, has to test it and try it, and see if it holds true. He and the Professor have many lively discussions about what Narnia actually is, what it's for, what other worlds would mean for science or philosophy or theology. But every time he goes back to the Bible and reads it, he finds echoes of Narnia, echoes of the Lion's voice, and the truth settles into him, becomes something solid and certain deep down inside.

Peter... sees the possibility almost as quickly. He's not so sure of it though, is a bit shy of something so incredible, doesn't want to get it wrong. He wants it to be true. He thinks about it a lot. But he doesn’t say any of it aloud, until he says to Aslan, at the end of his last trip to Narnia. It gets decided then, in there somewhere. He doesn't understand how or why, but he will believe anyway.

Lucy, now, Lucy always knew in a way that was beyond words, unconsciously, deep inside somewhere she never stopped to examine. She stands in Eustace's room, with Aslan’s words ringing in her ears, and it's like a light bulb has come on, or a bucket of cold water has been dumped over her head. Oh. Oh, that's what he meant, oh, now I understand.

And Susan, dear Susan, she suspects, she wonders, but no. Impossible. Too strange, too illogical. Waves it away like a nagging fly. But she figures it out years later, not too late, no sir, not too late at all. Maybe it's a book, maybe it's a song, maybe it's retelling the Easter story to a little girl curled up in her lap. Maybe it's an old poem pulled from the wreckage of a train. She pauses, startled, before the tears come tumbling down, and she murmurs the name she hasn't spoken in what feels like a lifetime, murmus it like a prayer: Aslan.

Jesus.