#from flexhealer
THE AUTUMN NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.
for: @tomyfortuneoftoilboundfrom@flexhealer.
MORE THAN MYTHS.
He had been told stories. For years, in secret he was told of the kings and queens of old. Myths, legends, tales of old, and even they had not held up to the real thing.
He always admired the Valiant Queen’s tenacity. In every story he was told, she threw all of herself into what she did. She cared little what happened to herself, as long as those she cared about were taken care of. The tales he heard of her in and out of battle always left him breathless. How he had admired the courage that went into protecting those one loves, even when they themselves seem against you.
Meeting her… he had never expected her to be younger than him. She seemed ageless in the stories. Just like her siblings, she had been through so much. But her laughter still rung true. The smallest of gestures to those who came across her…The pure selflessness she radiated warmed his heart. After everything, she still smiled. She had welcomed him as one of their own, holding his hand in her own, holding him in a tight embrace as if he were one of her brothers. When he would comment on it, she would just laugh and tell him, well of course, you are a brother to me. Just as the dryads and dwarves are my siblings, they are yours too.
The Just King had always held his rapt attention, maybe even more so than his younger sister had. His story had taken his heart and tore it. He saw the young boy who had just wanted to be seen, to be taken seriously. He had felt the hurt and betrayal. Not for one moment did he doubt that he wouldn’t redeem himself, but he still breathed in relief when he was told of how he worked so hard to protect their kingdom.
It didn’t take him even a second thought to know who the dark haired king was when they met. Although he had never seen him before, there was something about his eyes that seemed to pierce right through him; mind, body and soul. He could almost feel how he was sizing him up, his soul being weighed by the man who was known for being just above all else. None of it prepared him for how a smile slipped onto his face so easily as they spared. The young king’s laugh had bellowed into the night air, catching him off guard. He fell to the ground from a blow, and instead of being berated he found a hand being offered to him instead. C’mon don’t be so serious, he had said with a smile on his lips. Let’s go again, you’re doing good.
As a young prince, diplomacy and the intricacies of monarch relations had always been at the bottom of the list of things he was interested in. As he grew older, as he began to see the cracks and flaws in his own family’s government, he gained a newfound respect for the Gentle Queen. She handled everything with poise and grace, never stuttering or stumbling. Even in her mistakes, she rectified them and made up for it tenfold. She was everything a monarch could hope to be in the realm of royal company.
The tales in which he grew up on, had spoken much about her beauty, but nothing had compared to seeing her in front of him. It made sense why in seemingly every story, she had suitors falling at her feet, begging for her hand in marriage. In the same vein, it made sense why she had rejected each and every one of them. She had no greater love than the love for her family and country. How could she focus on suitors, when she already had everything she wanted? He felt shallow, for a while, thinking about how he had dismissed her beforehand for taking on the traditionally more feminine role in government and even now for focusing on her beauty. He had always admired her younger sister for her ferocity in battle, in protecting their family. But seeing her now, he knew she was just the same. Her deadly accuracy coupled with her wit… it was enough to make anyone wary to anger her. In fact he went out of his way to make sure he never got on her bad side. Others may have thought he would ask her to train him in archery, instead he opted for reading quietly in the same room as her. The atmosphere was comforting, it had always felt like a welcoming space. You know you don’t have to be afraid of me, she spoke quietly once. Even if you are, I’ll still hold you dearly all the same.
The High King…. He always held respect for him. Maybe it was more intimidation, maybe it was jealousy. The tales of the Magnificent King always left him with a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was a good man, a man who cared for his country just as he cared for his siblings. Was this who he was supposed to model himself after as a king? Would he ever live up to this standard? The way he led his country, the way he leaned on his siblings for support while protecting them and their kingdom, was this who people expected him to be? The same weird feeling came back the moment he realized the boy who held a sword to him was the same as the man from the stories. This… arrogant, angry boy was the magnificent king of Narnia? They had argued, they had fought. Anger bubbling beneath the surface of both of them. But time changes things. He began to understand the man that he had been, the standards and expectations he had for himself. Somehow he would find the two of them staying up into the wee hours of the morning talking about nothing and everything. Of politics of this time, to stories they both had been told as children, to their own insecurities as leaders of their people. Don’t sell yourself short, the king had told him softly one evening, You are already a better man than I.
They were not born of this land, he had been told.
His uncle and those in his company would sneer and jeer at even the slightest mention of them. They were not from here, why would we still hold them in high regard? This was not their land, after all. It always confused him. How could they say the kings and queens of old had no right to this land? This land that they loved and cared for with every fibre of their being? He had seen it with his own eyes. In the younger queen’s smile, in the older’s patience. He had seen it within how the younger king held himself, and how the older let his flaws be seen. They belonged to this world, just as much as any of them did. This world had changed them, and they had changed this world. In every action, every word, every glance, this world was part of them, just as they were part of the world.
It made sense, hearing how the people had loved them. They had loved the people just as much as they loved each other. Just as much as he loved them.
Just as much as they loved him.
He knew that they would leave Narnia at the end of all of this. He knew from the moment he met them. Every moment was bittersweet. From laughing with the youngest, to arguing with the oldest. From sitting in companionable silence with the younger brother, to training with the older sister. There was an ache in his chest almost every moment But one day they would also return. This was their home, just as it was his, just as it will be his children’s, and their children’s.
For this family he had been welcomed into, would always come back together. May it be days, years, or even centuries past. They would find each other again, in this life or the next.
