Only a few days later, and Fallon was flying over Cair Paravel, Ayron skimming through the clouds, twisting and turning as he closed his wings, dropping straight down into the trees and back up again, raising him and the girl just before they touched the ground.
Needless to say, the huntress and the griffin had bonded quite a lot throughout their short time together, sharing stories of their lives after they got separated and after Fallon's parents were killed.
In another time, the thought of her parents brought the girl nothing but sadness, and grief, but now, at the single thought of either of them all she could do was smile, because she was proud to call herself their daughter. They had both been avenged, and, though most would consider the act dishonourable, she was glad she'd inflicted the Witch with her own dagger, in the same spot her mother had so many years before her.
"Fallon!"
The girl and griffin came to a halt, hovering a few hundred meters above water, just away from the cliff on which stood one of the hunters she'd gotten to know.
"Uh, I mean, Your Grace," he corrected himself, embarrassed by the mistake he made every time he saw the girl.
Fallon laughed, shaking her head before speaking.
"Felix," she said, "I've already told you not to call me that. Your Grace, all that stuff. It's for royals. Just call me Fallon."
"Right. Sorry–"
"And stop apologizing."
Felix let out a huff, dropping the respectful and shy act, crossing his hands in front of his chest and rolling his eyes. "Move your arse, Hunter. Aslan's waiting for you." He then gave the girl a mocking bow, chuckling along with the Huntress, who was nearly falling off of Ayron due to how hard her body was shaking from laughter.
"Oh, and Fall?" Felix called over his shoulder. "You still need to change."
Fallon's eyes widened when she realized just how right the boy was. She was supposed to have been ready ten minutes ago. Ayron seemed to sense her panic, because he moved swiftly towards the balcony that led to the girl's window.
"Thanks," Fallon breathed, rushing inside her room before shutting the windows and pulling the blinds. "Dress, dress, dress," the girl muttered under her breath, throwing anything and everything she found in her wardrobe out.
"Your Grace?"
Fallon jumped, dropping the bundle of clothes she had in her arms to the floor and let out a shriek.
"Margaret!" She said, staring at the sweet maid who had been assigned to her. "You scared me half to death!"
"I'm sorry, Your Grace," Margaret replied, giving her a small courtesy, though still smiling lightly at the Huntress.
"I wish everyone would stop calling me that," Fallon muttered, reaching for the pile that had fallen to the floor.
Margaret giggled before heading to the girl's bed, reaching for the dress that had been laid out for her. "Well," she started, "you are on a higher social ranking than I am–"
"But I'm not," Fallon interrupted as Margaret stepped towards her, helping her out of her training clothes. She was being treated like a royal, and she hated it. Well, not hated it, but most definitely disliked it.
"I serve the Kings and Queens, just as you and everyone else."
The maid gave her a soft smile, stepping away so Fallon could step into her dress. "I understand, Fallon," she said. "But you're still quite important. Especially since you must protect their lives. We all carry plenty of respect for you." She then finished tying the strings around Fallon's waist, looking at her for a moment and simply smiled, shaking her head. She then moved on to her hair, Fallon feeling her working around her head. After a few minutes, Margaret stepped away, admiring her work, and then spoke with a satisfied tone. "All done. Call me for anything, Your– Fallon," she corrected, before giving her another small courtesy and leaving the room.
Fallon sighed, turning to look at herself in the mirror. When she did, she took a step back. The girl in the mirror didn't look like her. The black velvet dress wrapped around her body, somehow shifting her shape, –which seemed quite built due to all the training she'd been doing (and maybe the fact that she'd died a few days before)– into one that looked more elegant and graceful. The sleeves were once again loose, except this time they didn't tighten around her wrists, but flowed freely downwards, stopping at the joint in the front and running down on the back, stopping at the area around her hips. Black leather arm guards went from her wrists to the area just under her elbow. The silver string that had been tied around her waist ran around her once in a straight line, before going again in an x, then being knotted at the front, two longer parts reaching her knees. She had insisted on wearing boots, so Margaret had chosen a pair of rather formal ones, leather black that reached halfway through her shin, kept together by laces from the ankle up. Fallon wasn't one to enjoy accessories other than her locket, but a black, thick, choker was around her neck this time as well. Her hair was kept intact by two strings taken from the front, which where twisted tightly, but not painfully, with a few silver strings appearing every now and then, giving her head a sort of halo look.
A knock came from her door, snapping Fallon out of her daze, and Felix called her from the outside, telling her it was time they started heading down.
Fallon quickly strapped one of her daggers to her thigh, making sure it was well sheathed. It was a protocol she had, along with all the hunters. At least five, not counting herself, had to have a weapon on them at all times of certain days. Fallon had to have hers permanently. She then grabbed her cloak, placing it around her shoulders and joined Felix, who gave a whistle when he saw her.
"Well, look at you," he commented, and Fallon gave him a shove.
"You look rather charming yourself," She commented, giving the boy a look over. He was wearing black leather pants, paired with a black shirt and vest, covered by a silver velvet cape.
Felix smiled, giving her a grin and offering his arm. "I'm always charming," he spoke as Fallon accepted his arm. "But this time, I believe I look dashing."
Fallon laughed, shaking her head at the boy.
Felix had become Fallon's second in command in the Hunt, and she was extremely glad she'd chosen him. He was funny, and though at times his ego was a little too big, it would always shrink to nothingness when the girl needed help. He was also a great listener, and had always found a way to make her smile. Other than Susan, he truly was her best friend. The funniest thing about it all was that he had seemed so shy at first, which had become almost an inside joke between the two of them as time went by.
"So," Fallon started, not letting go of his arm as they descended the staircase. "Are you going to ask her to dance?"
Felix's face immediately heated up, making Fallon's smirk grow wider. "Of course. I mean, how could she resist this," he gestured to himself with his free arm, and Fallon laughed again. It was in moments like these in which she knew it wasn't his ego speaking, but rather himself, trying to ease Fallon's nerves. She'd told him she'd never been at a coronation of a ball before, so it would be quite strange for her.
"I'm serious, Felix," Fallon spoke. "You've basically been in love with Kat since before I got here, you have to at least try."
Katherine was a sweet girl, only a year younger than Fallon, who was absolutely phenomenal with a spear. She'd met her when the Hunt had first started getting together, a few days before Fallon's arrival at Cair Paravel.
Before Felix could reply, the duo had entered the throne room, and were standing with the rest of the Hunt, right in front of the steps that led to the Four Thrones.
All chatter in the room ceased, and Fallon turned her head, smiling when the saw the four Pevensies walking down the carpet, Aslan in between the two girls and the two boys.
The girl caught Oreius's gaze as she looked around, and they gave each other a small nod, the centaur raising his sword as the royals passed him.
Fallon grinned, bowing along with the rest of the Hunt, but her eyes got trapped in Peter's, who took the opportunity to give the girl a wink. Fallon's ears turned red, but she chose not to show her fluster, instead winking back and smirking when Peter looked down, his cheeks tinted.
Once the siblings were standing in front of their thrones, Aslan spoke.
"To the glistening Eastern Sea, I give you Queen Lucy, the Valiant."
The little girl's smile made Fallon's heart melt, and her chest filled with pride as Mr. Tumnus placed the silver crown on her head.
"To the great Western Woods, King Edmund, the Just."
Fallon smiled at the boy, happy that, in the end, he'd finally found his way and role in the lands of Narnia.
"To the radiant Southern Sun, Queen Susan, the Gentle."
Fallon's smile grew, knowing how absolutely incredible her friend would be as High Queen.
"And to the clear northern skies, King Peter," Fallon stared as Mr. Tumnus placed the golden crown on his head. "The Magnificent."
The Kings and Queens took their place on the Four Thrones, and Aslan's words echoed around the room.
"Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen." He then turned to Fallon, who took a step forward, nodding at the four.
"May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the Heavens," she spoke clearly, "and may you rule us with bravery," she looked to Lucy, "kindness," her gaze went to Susan, "pure judgment," Edmund smiled at her, "honour," Peter's ocean met her sand storm once again. "And loyalty." She looked to Aslan then, and the lion nodded. Fallon lent her palm forwards, opening it and letting a ray of light shine through the walls before it divided into four, each one moving and settling in the designs of a different throne. The stars were simple symbols, parts of her own soul woven into an astro, sealing her oath to protect the Kings and Queens of Narnia.
"Long live King Peter! Long live Queen Susan! Long live King Edmund! And long live Queen Lucy!"
§
The amber light reflecting Fallon's orbs was hypnotizing, the sun rays dancing along the clouds, digging into the sand of the beach, Aslan's paws still visible on the dust. He'd spoken to Fallon only a few minutes before he left, but he'd told her all she needed to know. She'd wanted some time to think, so she'd excused herself from the ball, though not before pushing Felix –whom she'd been dancing with– towards Kat, making the girl giggle and the boy turn a concerning shade of red, before they both started laughing. The girl didn't know how long she'd been out on the balcony, until a cough came from behind her.
"Hi," she said, smiling at Peter, who was standing by the window.
"Hey," Peter said, returning her smile and walking up beside her. "What are you doing out here?"
Fallon shrugged, placing her elbows back on the edge of the balcony. "Just thinking."
"About?"
"Nothing that is of your concern."
Before Peter could question her further, Fallon spoke again, smirking. "Are you sure you want to stay here? I mean, you're High King now. Do you really want to be seen with a hunter? The leader, at that."
Peter looked at her for a moment before smirking himself, taking Fallon's arms off the railing and standing in front of her, the girl's hands at her sides.
"Peter, what are you–"
"What if," Peter interrupted, "in a completely hypothetical situation, I were just me, Peter, not the High King of anything, and you were just you, Fallon." He smiled then, repeating her name for a second time, as if he loved the way it sounded without the addition of a title. "Fallon. Then this would probably be the moment in which I took your hand," Fallon felt him do so, and her ears started turning red once again, "and invited you to dance with me."
Fallon smirked, choosing to play along and slipping her hand out of his, turning her back to him slightly and taking a few steps towards the balcony railing.
"And I would probably say yes," she replied, turning back to face Peter, who was still grinning.
"And," he stepped towards her leaving less than a foot between them. "I would probably try to kiss you."
"And I probably wouldn't let you," Fallon replied, though the teasing in her tone and the small smile tugging on her lips betrayed the serious face she was trying to hold.
Peter leaned closer to her then, trapping the girl between himself and the railing, and that was the moment Fallon knew they were both done with their game, so she finished her sentence, smiling.
"At first."
And then his lips were on hers, Fallon placing a hand on his jaw, the same place she'd accidentally punched him, only this time, it wasn't to make sure he was alright. Peter's arms snaked around Fallon's waist, pulling her closer, and the two smiled through the kiss.
For once, everything was exactly as they wanted it to be.
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OOF SORRY I'M A SUCKER FOR REFERENCESSSS
(if you spotted the reference and know where it's from, we are now best friends).
lmao here's a pic of Fallon's dress just because (it might be a little different from the description so just ignore that teeny little detail).