Aslan walks ahead of us. Peter to my left, Susan to my right. Aslan guides us down the carpet towards our thrones.
Centaurs line the path. They place their swords above us, taking them away as we pass. I smile at Oreius, nodding to him gratefully.
Aslan stops. The five thrones sit high and tall, sat in front of a giant stained glass window.
We walk ahead. Approaching our thrones as they're laid out before us. To the far left, Edmund. To my left, Peter. To my right Susan, and to my far right, Lucy. My throne sits in the middle, dividing and uniting the thrones all at once.
"To the glistening Eastern Sea, I give you Queen Lucy, the Valiant." Aslan speaks.
The Beavers come bearing our crowns. I can't help but to feel a child-like excitement wash over me at the sight of them. Behind them, Mr. Tumnus follows.
He picks up a silver crown, holding it delicately as he raises it up to Lucy. She bows down and lets him place it atop her head. He smiles at her, nodding before turning away.
"To the great Western Wood, King Edmund, the Just." Aslan says. Tumnus lays a silver crown atop his head as well. Edmund beams over at the rest of us, which fills me with pure joy.
"To the radiant Southern Sun, Queen Susan, the Gentle." Aslan grants her. She gets a golden crown, once again placed atop her head by the Faun.
"To the clear Northern Sky, I give you High King Peter, the Magnificent." Aslan says. Mr. Tumnus grants Peter a regal, larger-than-life crown of glimmering gold.
"And right here, in the heart of Narnia. In the lands where the borders meet. I give you High Queen Rosemary, The Fearless." Aslan says.
My crown, matching Peter's in nearly every way, glimmers in it's golden glory. It's smaller as to fit my head, and the detailing is different. But any one with eyes could tell that the two of ours were made to match one another.
Here we are. Kings and Queens.
Isn't it wonderful?
We step back, taking to our thrones. I hold my head high, my shoulders back. With such a pristine execution that only comes with years of practice. Once again sitting on a throne in the Cair Paravel.
As I was always meant to.
"Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen." Aslan tells us. I glance over at Peter as he looks over at me, the both of us smiling ear to ear. "May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens."
"Long live King Peter! Long live King Edmund! Long live Queen Rosemary! Long live Queen Susan! Long live Queen Lucy!" The crowd cheers out.
A laugh escapes from me.
All the fighting. All the sorrow. All we've lost...it pales in comparison to what we've gained. I may have lost what I thought was everything I had. But I've gained the world. A family, I love and trust. A kingdom who thinks the world of me.
I can't help but to laugh.
-
-15 years later-
"Love- we're going out." Peter kisses me, walking past as he does so.
"We?" I ask him.
"Me. Susan, Lucy and Ed." He nods. "Edmund's scouted out a hunt for us. I figured I'd invite you, but..."
"But someone has to stay here with the screaming toddler." I nod. I take a sigh. "You know, there was once a day where they would have called me fearless. Now I'm nothing more than a hand maid. Changing diapers, catering to the every whim of the prince!" I shake my head.
"Hey." Peter spins around. He snakes his hands around my waist, as he has every day for the past 15 years. "You are the High Queen of Narnia. Do not demote yourself." He tells me.
"Yeah, well someone has to get the High Prince into his High chair, before he throws a bloody tantrum." I kiss my husband, pulling away after just a moment.
"If it troubles you so, I could stay. You could join them on the hunt and I'd-"
"No." I shake my head, sighing. "No. Go with your siblings, Peter. I'll be waiting for you when you get back." I nod.
"I love you, Rosemary." He reminds me.
"I love you too, Peter. Now go! Edmund won't wait for you, you know that." I smile at him.
He gives me a nod, disappearing behind a corridor as my smile falters. The moment he's out of my sight, I get a bad feeling. I never feel like I'm at my best while I can't see him, but this is...different.
I try to push it away, returning to the room. My son sits up in bed, eyes puffy from crying.
"I know, I know- Percival James Pevensie, I swear to Aslan if you don't quit your whining, I'll ask Beetee to come beat you up for me!" I smile down at him. I see a smile spread across his face as he turns away from me.
"Dad's gone off with uncle Ed, and your aunts. It's just the two of us now." I tell him. His head slowly re-emerges as he looks up at me.
"Sorry, mum." He mumbles.
"Are we ready for breakfast now, then?" I ask him. He smiles, nodding excitedly. I lift him up into my hip. "Great! Tumnus has made you pancakes this morning. Does that sound good?"
-
I sit, hands folded over the hilt of my sword.
"Tell me again all that we know."
The fireplace causes ripples of light to wash over my. The only light source coming into the lonesome bedroom.
"Rose." Beetee speaks. His fur has gone grey in most places, but he still retains his firey personality.
Xavier's long gone now. He died a few years back, time finally catching up to him. He passed peacefully, at the humble, noble age of 748.
"Beetee. Tell me again what happened to my husband!" I exclaim, my voice harsher than I meant. Colder.
"Ma'am." He nods. "The four Kings and Queens left at dawn three days ago. Yesterday, at dawn, their horses returned to the castle, without them. They claimed that they stopped by a lamppost and walked into the brush, and that they simply never returned."
"A lamppost?" I ask.
The memory is vague, as if fading from me for some unknown reason. I search the deepest recesses of my mind.
"The-the lamppost by the old Tumnus place?" I ask.
"That very one." Beetee confirms.
I quiet. I think a few moments, before rising.
"Where are you going?" He asks me, rising to meet me as I sling the sword over myself.
"To find my husband." I tell him.
"Let me-"
"No, Beetee. I-" I cut myself off. I sigh, looking up at the minotaur with sadness in my eyes. "You ever know something, but can't express how you possibly could? I've come to believe that it has something to do with Aslan. I know that I must go alone, Beetee. Or I'll never find them. I need you to trust me." I ask of him.
"Of course, my Queen." He says, nodding.
"I...I fear the worst. I hope for the best, but I wouldn't be here today if I never at least considered the worst." I tell him. "If- If I do not return. If something grave happens to the lot of us...I need you to do me one last favour. Not as your Queen, Beetee. But as your friend, and equal." I look him in the eye.
"Anything, Rose." He agrees.
"If we do not return, please. Take care of Percy for me?"
"Always. Always, Rose." He nods.
I exit our room. I pass through the halls of the Cair Paravel, seeming like a ghost in my own home. I stand outside of my son's room.
I do not enter.
If I don't return, he knows that I love him so. He knows how much I care for him. How I know that he'll one day come to rule this land with a kind soul and a stern voice. Waking him up in the middle of the night will do nothing but make me doubt myself.
I leave. The royal stables, occupied with many creatures for my disposal, lay otherwise barren of maids or guards. I choose a steed at random, merely needing him as a means to an end.
I ride by night. Nothing, not even Aslan himself, could stop me in my travels. I'm carried to the farthest reaches of the western woods, until a light comes into my vision.
As soon as I can see it, I stop the horse.
"Your Majesty-"
"Go. Return to the castle." I order it. "Do not wait for me." I tell him.
"A..As you wish, Your Highness."
The horse turns, racing back towards the Cair Paravel as ordered. I make my way through the wood, carefully stopping in front of the lamppost.
It glistens carefully in the night. Vines cover it now. But, it's still so familiar. It reminds me of something that I can't quite picture. Like I've seen it before. But that's not possible, I've never been out this far into Edmund's wood. Have I?
Yet my feet carry me forward. Guiding me, as if I know exactly where I'm going.
I stumble right into evergreen trees.
"Spare Oom..." I mumble to myself. "Spare..."
The trees begin to feel soft. No- no, those aren't trees at all. They're- they're....
They're coats.
I stumble forward, falling down onto hardwood floor. I look down at my hands, confused. I glance backwards, seeing only an open wardrobe behind me.
"Rose?" Lucy's voice asks. But it's not Lucy, she's far too young to be-
I look forwards. All four of the Pevensie children stare at me, half-way out of the room. Professor Kirke stands there as well, looking curiously at me.
"Peter?" I call.
I need to see my husband.
His head peaks out from behind the doorframe. I feel relief wash over me, as I stand. I nearly trip over myself running to meet them.
By the time I got there, I nearly forget why I was running in the first place.
"Yeah?" Peter asks me.
I feel dizzy for a brief moment, blinking the feeling away as quickly as I can before making eye contact with him.
I shake my head. "I, uh. I'm sorry. I can't...I can't remember." I meekly answer, looking away from the boy.
"I've had it, I've HAD it!" Macready comes bounding up the stairs, nearly producing steam with as angry as she seems to be.
"Ah. Mrs. Macready. I suppose you found the window?" Professor Kirke addresses her.
"Found it? Found it!" She squawks, before correcting her tone. "I just want to know who is responsible for-"
"It was me, Mrs. Macready." The Professor tells her, surprising the lot of us. "Throwing around a ball. Forgetting my age. I'll have it fixed up within the week." He assured her.
She looks down at the five of us. She doesn't believe him, but she doesn't have the evidence to argue. She huffs, turning away and walking back down the hall.
"Rose, are you alright. You look like you've seen a ghost?" Kirke asks me.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's just..." I sigh, shaking my head. "Nothing. It's nothing. I'm sorry, Professor. For breaking your window."
"It wasn't you." Peter recalls. "It was us. We're sorry." He nods.
"Nevermind who did it, children." He shakes his head. "I suppose you've have a long journey. Come, get yourselves all to bed. You'll feel better after you've rested." He ushers us out of the room, away from the wardrobe.
Wardrobe?
What ever were we doing in a wardrobe?