Secret Santa: Day 2
Dec. 25th, 2010 07:05 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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nffr_partyHappy Christmas from NFFR! Below, find gifts for three more gifts (and a little something from Meto and I for everyone)!
Happy Christmas! Hope everyone has enjoyed a happy holiday!
A fic for thehowlingwolf
Discoveries Now Ancient
For thehowlingwolf, with a wish for a happy Christmas.
K plus. Peter/ OC
It is a snowy evening and Jane is reading to Peter from her Biology text about the structure of the human DNA- a phenomenal scientific discovery that still has scientists everywhere practically leaping with glee even two decades after its initial founding.
In between bouts of Peter thinking to himself that Jane was making more and more sense genetically, Peter won't think at all.
He sits on the old red couch of library's study room, with Jane sitting so closely that he can feel the heat her body was releasing due to the chemical reactions of her molecules. What sorts of reactions did skin like that have to go through, in order to retain such a perfect, creamy colour? Peter doesn't really care, as long as his pupils continue to admit light, the cones and rods in his eyes willingly shaping her image.
Jane finishes a section on ribonucleic acids, and smiles ironically up at him, as if apologizing for the blandness of the stuffy, intellectually-puffed words. Peter can't mind, though, because his own DNA renders him with excellent hearing, and he really, truly, adores hearing her voice lilt warmly around him, sinking like a teasing breeze through his auricle, drumming a sweet vibration around and around in the inner workings of the cochlea and semicircular canals. Is this part of that ninety-eight percent of human DNA that is exactly the same as everyone else's? Or does she only sound like an angel to the two percent that makes Peter, Peter?
Jane shifts, so close Peter swears his epidermis will singe from the beautiful warm and moist air expelled from her alveoli, exchanging oxygen for carbon dioxide, mixing with her blood, with her genetics, breathing onto Peter. It makes him wish with utter lunacy that somehow he could breathe in and make her even a small part of him.
Genetically, Peter can see her Scandinavian roots- the honey blonde hair, straight and pulled loosely back, really just dead skin cells that had been spun into gold. A genetic Rumplestiltskin that Peter felt himself praising fervently. Her mouth was full, collagen and sensitive skin flushed with that same blood- that same DNA- and Peter wondered if it was only her two percent of DNA that made her lips look so edible- A single enchanted bite that would send Peter reeling into oblivion, that one kiss that would wake him up from this genetic spell he was cast under.
Honey and cream and apple-red were in Jane's DNA, and Peter wants to know what genius put them there so that he can give them thanks for the feast set before him.
"Dr. Pevensie?" Jane teases, because she has eyes like Peter's, just as keen, laughing even though no DNA Peter knows of can place a smile in the eyes besides Jane's, and she knows that he isn't really thinking about the section of catalysts.
"Nurse?" Peter manages, and if his voice is scant, it's because his brain is failing to fire the synapses for his diaphragm to supply an adequate oxygen supply to his lungs, and for his tongue to unglue itself from the roof of his mouth.
"The Professor won't favour you anymore if you fail this test tomorrow," Jane says, and because her DNA recognizes an admirer while her intellect may not, Peter's sharp eyes can count the tremors of blood flowing through her jugular vein in the side of her creamy neck. It beats a little faster than Peter is used to, and the rhythm of it all entrances him.
Perhaps more synapses are firing that Peter thought, because suddenly his right triceps contracts and his hand is moving forwards, finger pads chock with nerve endings stirring against the cream of her neck.
It's so smooth, that Peter thinks it can't be solid. The electromagnetic field of her atoms can't be that strong, yet despite all appearances, the flesh is strong, not liquid, pliable but not without a returning force of its own. Another tremor vibrates through his nerves, but the warmth of Jane at his side does not diminish, and now he finds the mind to order his hand to stay there, in that comfortable spot above her pulsing life.
Jane continues reading in a voice so soft that Peter would not have known her larynx was restricting in tune with her melodic notes if his hand did not feel the thrumming sway of violins in her throat. Laughter in her eyes... an orchestra in her voice...
Peter removes his hand, exchanging it with his lips.
...Sweet cream in her skin.
"Peter..."
He can taste his name, and everything that makes him who he is, is dancing at the sample of victory lingering on the tip of his tongue.
"Jane," he returns, and relishes the tremolo of vocal chords as his lingering mouth tickles her pulse and her DNA dances against his skin, her laughter infecting him with genetic joy, and he finds his mouth smiling by an ancient code into the line of her jaw.
Another giggle, ticklish, and creamy fingers are gently lifting his head, bathing the fiery beat of constricting blood vessels in his cheekbones with cool fingers, as soft as her neck, and he kisses those, too.
"Studying?" A reminder. A request for guidance.
"Later," he insists, because the two percent that makes Peter, Peter, wants to explore the two percent that makes Jane, Jane, more than anything else in the world.
And maybe the two percent that makes Jane, Jane wants to know him just as badly, because the she needs no further instruction.
As soon as his vocal folds are finished vibrating, her sternocliedomastiod muscles twist her head to the side and synapses are shooting in his own skull like a firework display, blinding both rods and cones inside of his eyes, his brain receiving no image but those tantalizing, apple-red lips that have just captured his, and feeling nothing but honey flowing through his fingers.
If he had been traveling by desert for forty years, he could not have been more parched, yet here was Jane, with the promise of Heaven in her very DNA.
'Watson and Crick really have no idea,' Peter finds himself thinking, as well as, 'I think I might just pass this test...'
A fic for lizzen
Match Point
“Eustace! Come along now or we’ll be late for tea at the Beckworths’!”
Edmund grimaced as Aunt Alberta’s voice cut through his concentration. It was like music to the ears, really—or nails on a chalkboard, depending on which way you looked at it. Ed finished pulling on his socks and headed into the hallway, where his oaf of a cousin practically knocked him down the stairs as he came barreling past.
“Excuse you,” Eustace spat at him, regaining his balance.
Edmund narrowed his eyes and glanced up the stairs to the room his sister was staying in while they were forced to co-habitate with their relatives. “Oy, Eustace! What were you doing in Lucy’s room?” Eustace was down the stairs before Edmund could grab him.
“None of your business!”
Edmund heard the front door slam and rolled his eyes. At least he and Lucy were free of them for the afternoon, although they were given strict instructions not to touch anything, absolutely anything, that didn’t belong to them. Considering that nothing belonged to them since this wasn’t their house, Edmund and Lucy were left with very few options to amuse themselves.
“Lucy!” Edmund called down the stairs. “We should check your room! I just caught Eustace snooping around up there.”
Lucy appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a book open in her hand. “Oh, no. You don’t think he put ants in my bed again?”
“Only one way to find out.” Ed waited until Lucy joined him on the landing, then they both ascended the next flight of stairs. Lucy sighed before slowly pushing open the shabby bedroom door.
The room was really just a small attic space where they’d stuffed a rusty old bed, a set of drawers, and an old painting that Harold and Alberta hated, but at least it was hers and she didn’t have to share a room with Eustace and his bug collections. That kid was completely barmy.
They both stood in the doorway and peered into the room. “Anything out of place?” Edmund asked.
“Hm…not at first glance, no,” Lucy said. She moved cautiously into the room and over to one side of the bed. “On the count of three?”
Ed nodded and gripped one side of the sheets. When Lucy got to “three,” they both flung the blankets back. The crisp white linen was exactly as Lucy had left it that morning. Eustace thought he was very clever to scare his cousin by putting his little pets into her bed, but Lucy really only found it annoying and cruel for the bugs. Apparently he had something else in mind this time, though.
“Interesting. Well, that isn’t what he was after then, was it?”
Lucy’s eyes scanned the room until they fell onto her chest of drawers. “I don’t think he would have gone through my underclothes, but…” She pulled open the drawer and rummaged around a bit, then after a minute she turned and uttered a word she rarely ever used. “The letters are gone, Edmund! All of Susan’s letters!”
Edmund’s hands curled into fists. “You know, Lu, I try very hard not to hate anyone in this world, but it is very, very difficult not to hate that little rat.”
Lucy’s eyes sparked. “Don’t call him that. Even the worst rats we’ve known have been ten times better than he is sometimes.” She checked her other hiding spaces, but apparently Eustace hadn’t yet figured those out because the letters from Peter and their parents were still where she’d left them. “I am unbelievably tired of his stupid little games, Edmund. We have to stay here until who knows when and I am already so tired of it.” Her voice was full of frustration.
Edmund’s jaw tightened. He knew anyone that grated on Lucy’s nerves so badly was really an awful person, considering she could put up with practically anything and keep a cheerful smile on her face. And he knew how much Susan’s letters meant to her, as well. Lucy was most definitely living vicariously through their sister and her exciting letters about America since they had arrived at their aunt and uncle’s house. She was lonely, even with Ed there to keep her company, and it killed him to see that the usual light in her eyes had dimmed considerably in the last few weeks. He did hate anyone that made Lucy feel like that.
Without a word, Edmund turned and stalked back down the stairs, straight into Eustace’s room.
“Edmund? What are you doing?” Lucy hurried after him, stopping in the doorway. She never came into Eustace’s room if she could help it.
“If you were Eustace, where would your diary be, Lu?”
Very carefully, Ed began shifting things around on the top of Eustace’s dresser.
“Well obviously, I would hide it, Edmund. Look under his bed.”
Edmund dropped to his knees and glanced under the bed. “This is the grossest thing I’ve ever seen,” he muttered. He carefully pushed aside the books filled with bugs pinned to the pages and felt around, but never came up with the diary. “He probably keeps it with him all the time. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Oh, well,” Lucy said. “We’ll get the letters back tonight. Let’s just go back to my room.”
“Wait a second.” Edmund’s hand closed around a small box and he pulled it out. “Look! The little pig is hoarding candy down here.” He tossed a few pieces to Lucy, who caught them easily, and then popped one in his mouth, as well.
“Don’t take too many, Edmund, he’ll notice,” Lucy warned. “And then you know we’ll get stuck doing even more chores around here than we already do.”
“I know…the little arse would blame everything on us if he could.” Ed popped one more in his mouth, ignoring the look of reproachment from his sister for his language, then without really thinking about it, spit it back out into the wrapper. Lucy raised her eyebrows questioningly, but Edmund just grinned and carefully rewrapped the candy. “Speaking of arses…if there’s one person who can play that game better than Eustace, it’s me.” Edmund carefully laid the candy next to him on the floor and moved onto the next piece.
“Edmund!” Lucy exclaimed when she realized what he was doing. “That’s disgusting. Oh, don’t, that’s horribly mean…”
“Just think of it as beating him at his own game, Lu.” Edmund continued until all of the candies had been rewrapped, then replaced the box exactly as he’d found it under the bed. “There, I’m done. He’ll never even know it, Lucy, you can’t tell. It’ll just be for our pleasure…” Edmund stood and brushed his hands off on his pants.
“For your pleasure, you mean. I think it was an awful thing to do.” She tried to look stern, but Edmund just looked back at her evenly, cocking his head to the side. ‘Wait for it…’ he thought to himself.
Finally, Lucy could stand it no longer and let out a bark of laughter. Edmund pointed at her and laughed.
“Ha! I knew it! You do think it’s funny!”
Lucy covered her mouth with her hand, only letting a few more giggles escape between her fingers. She gently shoved Edmund out of the way and headed back up the stairs to her room. “Oh, Ed, you’re awful. You really are.”
“I may be awful, but I made you smile.” And that, Edmund grinned, would get on Eustace’s nerves more than anything else. Eustace could play any games he wanted, really – Edmund was quite sure he was a more than qualified adversary.
A Fic for lunawannabe
Noises in the Night
It was summer during the fourth year of the Golden Reign. Kings Peter and Edmund and Queens Susan and Lucy were busy running the country, dealing with foreign diplomats, and defending Narnia from her attackers.
One warm day in Greenroof, a Faun by the name of Fezmir came to Cair Paravel on behalf of his town in the northwestern part of Narnia. It seemed his town was having a peck of trouble, for residents heard curious and scary noises in the dark of night for two weeks. The town’s people decided to take the matter to the Kings and Queens in case the sounds were of the Northern Giants.
Fezmir patiently wait his turn during court. He was the last one to speak to the Four, so it would do him no good to be impatient. Finally, after two hours of arguments being settled, and the monarchs granting permission for proper docks and boats to be built, it was Fezmir’s turn.
“Who is next, Moreto?” High King Peter asked the Marshal of the List, a Grizzly Bear.
“Faun Fezmir of the Town Melba,” replied the Marshal. At the call of his name, Fezmir walked to the steps of the dais and bowed to his monarchs.
“What brings you here, Faun Fezmir?” asked Queen Susan.
“I came, your Majesties, because my town has been hearing noises in the night, and we know not what makes them,” Fezmir answered.
Queen Lucy grew anxious with excitement, for she always enjoyed a mystery. The young queen could see similar excitement in the eyes of her siblings. Lucy already had a feeling Peter was going to investigate the noises, and she dearly wished to go.
“Curious,” Edmund said to himself, though everyone was thinking similarly. “How long have these noises been occurring?”
“Two weeks, Sire.”
“From where are the noises coming?” Lucy asked, barely containing her excitement. The High King gave an inaudible chuckle. Susan smiled at her sister, and Edmund gave a small smirk.
“The mountains about a mile or so from the village, Queen Lucy. They have the people scared enough that there has not been any night-time dances as of late.” The room stirred in a bit of shock. Narnia was known for her summer dances, and to not have any was a serious matter.
Peter stood, and everyone became silent. “We will look into your predicament, dear Faun. You may stay here until my siblings and I send an investigation party to your town.”
“Thank you, King Peter. My thanks to all of you,” said Fezmir.
-x-x-x-x-x-
“Lucy . . .” Peter started.
“I want to go, Peter,” Lucy said forcefully.
“But Lu,” said Susan. “You’re only twelve years old.”
“So? Peter’s seventeen, and that’s old enough to go on a mystery that could kill him? I’m sure Edmund would go if Peter needed company and asked, and he is only a year older than me.”
Her eldest siblings were silent. “She’s got a point,” said Edmund.
“How?” Peter challenged, even though he very well knew she had a valid point.
“Lucy is twelve. Three years older than when I fought in the Battle of Beruna, and a year younger than you were, Peter. She’s even recently fought with the two of us in battle, and Lu can hold her own.”
Peter nodded in acknowledgement, Susan sighed, and Luck beamed.
“And besides, if it’s anything that can be dealt with peacefully, Lucy is quite the little diplomat,” Edmund added as he remembered Lucy negotiating trade agreements with Galma a few months ago. The agreement did a great deal of good for the country; it brought new spices, foods, and other goods into Narnia.
Peter was silent for a minute before he said, “Alright, Lucy. Prepare to depart early tomorrow morning.”
Lucy hugged her brother in happiness. “Thank you, Peter.”
The young queen then turned to her other brother. “And thank you Edmund.”
The Just King shrugged. “Was nothing, Lu.”
The Valiant smiled.
-x-x-x-x-x-
High King Peter, Queen Lucy, Fezmir, and their guard arrived at Melba two days after departing from Cair Paravel. The sun was just beginning to set, and many people were out to greet their monarchs.
“There is no special place for you to sleep, Majesties, but there is an extra bed at my place if your Highnesses do not mind sharing,” Fezmir offered.
Lucy looked to Peter with a smile. Peter nodded to the Faun. “We do not mind. Is there an open area near your home where our guard may camp?”
“Yes, King Peter. There is some space behind my house for them.”
“Our thanks, Fezmir,” said Lucy.
The Royal group settled down to where they would be staying. Peter and Lucy helped their guard make camp behind Fezmir’s house. Then everyone had dinner and went to sleep.
A few hours into the night, what sounded like a shriek, woke Lucy. A few seconds later, she heard it again. Carefully, the queen rose from the bed, strapped on her belt – that held her dagger and cordial, and grabbed her cloak. Fezmir’s house was dark as Lucy moved through it, but the light of the full moon allowed her to avoid bumping into things and waking her brother or her host. Though, the Valiant Queen had a feeling Fezmir was awake anyway.
After she exited the house, the young queen walked towards the village’s northern edge to see if she could catch a glimpse of what was making the noise. A large SWOOSH caught Lucy’s attention, and she looked to the mountains. Above the mountain peak were three flying creatures. Queen Lucy attempted to figure out what kind of animal they were, but they moved to fast. One of them suddenly changed its course and flew in Lucy’s direction. Once it was a few feet from her, it rolled and shrieked, causing Lucy to jump. A large hand came down gently on her shoulder, and she gave a small gasp.
“It’s alright, Lu. It’s me,” came her brother’s soothing voice.
Peter put his arm around his little sister’s shoulders, and Lucy put her arm around his middle. “When did you wake?”
“A few minutes ago, when I heard the first shriek. I was hoping you hadn’t heard it.”
“So you were awake when I left?” she asked looking up at her brother.
The High King nodded. “I decided to follow you once you left the room,” said Peter as he continued to watch the flying creatures. “What do you suppose they are?”
“I don’t know,” Lucy answered. “They don’t slow down enough for me to look.” The young queen then gave a big yawn.
Peter smiled. “Let’s go back and try to get some sleep. And then tomorrow we can figure out what these flying creatures are, okay?”
“M’kay,” Lucy said sleepily.
Peter chuckled and helped his baby sister back inside.
-x-x-x-x-x-
“But Peter . . .”
“No, Lucy. I’ve gone and surveyed the mountain. It’s very steep and can only be traversed by hand-climbing. Something you’re not dressed for.”
Lucy huffed as her brother was right. If she even attempted climbing in her skirts, she could fall and seriously injure herself. And the young queen was not proficient at hand-climbing, so it would’ve made it even more difficult.
“I’ll take six Fauns and Satyrs with me. The rest of the guard will stay with you,” the elder Royal informed her.
“Alright,” Queen Lucy said, depressed.
The High King gave his sister a sad smile. “I’m sorry you can’t go.”
The Valiant returned the smile. “Just go so you can hurry back.”
The Magnificent pressed his lips to her head. “I shall.”
“Aslan be with you!” she called as he went outside.
“And with you!” her brother called back.
As soon as Peter was off, Lucy headed into the town. She saw a school area and many small shop-keeps that varied in merchandise.
Some had jewelry, others food items, tools, or material for sewing. Queen Lucy stopped at each of these shops, and she talked with most of the towns folk. They all were honoured to meet her, and they were touched that she and the High king would personally deal with their problem. The Narnians also wondered why she was not with the High King at the moment.
“It is because I am not properly dressed to climb the mountain, and I am not very good at hand-climbing,” Queen Lucy explained.
“Posh,” said a Gryphon named Skylor. “I can take you up, your Majesty.”
The young queen smiled brightly. “I would very much appreciate that, Lady Skylor. How soon can we leave?”
The Gryphon responded by coming up beside her. Queen Lucy promptly mounted, and Skylor sprung into the air. They landed about where
Lucy saw the flying creatures the night before within ten minutes. The queen dismounted and began to visually search for the creatures.
“Will you still be in need my services, Queen Lucy?” Skylor asked.
She turned back to the Gryphon. “Mmm, no. I do not believe so. The creatures my royal brother and I saw last night fly, so I will hopefully come down with them. Thank you, Skylor, for bringing me.”
“It was my pleasure, your Majesty. I look forward to seeing you back in town.” And Skylor took off.
Lucy began to explore the plateau she was on, careful to stay clear of the edge. After a few minutes, the queen came across a cave. Immediately, she sensed that the cave held the winged creatures.
“Aslan protect me,” Lucy whispered to herself.
Queen Lucy stood ten feet from the cave’s entrance and drew her dagger in case she needed it. She was about to call out to the cave when Peter’s voice startled her.
“I say, Lu. You always find a way around anything that restrains you,” the High King remarked.
“What can I say? It’s a gift,” the Valiant Queen countered.
“How in Narnia did you get up here?” Peter asked as he helped his Faun and Satyr guards up.
“A resident Gryphon gave me a ride. She didn’t like the excuse of improper clothes and lacking climbing abilities,” Lucy answered with a smile.
Peter gave a soft snort and smiled as he shook his head. “I do believe you were about to call out to the creatures when I spoke,” the Magnificent said as he shifted Rhindon from his back to his hip.
Taking the hint, Lucy turned around and drew a deep breath. “Hello?! Is anybody there?” the twelve year old shouted. The queen was about to call again when they heard a rustling and what sounded like the clipping of hooves.
Out stepped three Winged Horses. They looked to be a family: one was all brown, another black with white stockings and wings, and the colt was beige with white wings, mane and tail.
The brown one stepped forward. “My name is Barna, descendent of Fledge, the first Winged Horse. This is my husband, Flenis, and our son, Terán, also descendents of Fledge. Who are you?”
The Valiant Queen looked to her sibling, and he nodded to her. She turned back to Barna. “I am Queen Lucy the Valiant of Narnia, and this is my brother, High King Peter the Magnificent of Narnia. We rule this land along side our sister, Queen Susan the Gentle, and our brother, King Edmund the Just.”
“Jadis rules no more?” Flenis asked.
“Yes,” Peter answered. “Aslan slew her four years ago. He then made me and my siblings monarchs of Narnia. A blessing, truly.”
“Then you will forgive our behavior, your Majesties. We did not know,” Barna said.
“That is quite alright,” said Queen Lucy. “I must ask, though, why did your kind leave Narnia?”
“It began just before Jadis’ rule,” Flenis started. “Our grandparents began searching for places to live in case we ever needed to flee.”
“And they found an isolated place on one of the Seven Isles. They returned to Narnia and told the other Winged Horses about the spot,” Barna continued. “The Winged Horses were glad to have the escape place, for when Jadis invaded Narnia, she let her foul creatures slay our families for food.”
“And ever since, the Winged Horses have been living in the Seven Isles. Recently, we heard chatter of new monarchs, and that Jadis was gone. The rumors were reported to Mortír, the head of all herds. And it was decided that out family should come over here to confirm it,” Flenis finished.
“But why did you wait two weeks here on the mountain? Why did you fly around at night and scare the villagers?” Peter questioned.
“We didn’t mean to,” Terán quickly said. “Because Mama and Papa weren’t sure if her agents were still around, we hid in the day and flew at night.”
“But what about coming to Cair Paravel? It’s right on the coast,” the High King asked the colt.
Terán shrugged his wings. “We flew here at night and missed it. We meant no harm.”
The King and Queen smiled at the Winged Horse family. “We would be honoured and most grateful if your kind returned to Narnia,” the Magnificent offered.
“Oh, yes. It would be lovely to have all of Narnia’s people whole,” Lucy added.
Barna, Flenis, and Terán all shared a look and then whinnied happily. Lucy clapped her hand (having long ago re-sheathed her dagger), and Peter smiled brightly.
“How soon will you leave?” Queen Lucy inquired.
“As soon as possible, your Majesty,” Barna answered.
“Oh, good. Though I do have one last question to ask.”
“What is it, Queen Lucy?”
“Might I get a ride down? I came up here by Gryphon.”
“Of course, Majesty. In fact, Flenis and I could take the lot of you down in two trips if you rode two per horse.”
“You are most gracious,” said Peter.
“It is the least we can do in return for you inviting us back home, King Peter,” Flenis said.
Lucy and Peter mounted Barna, and two Fauns mounted Flenis. Quick as a wink, they were down beside the mountain, dismounted, and the Winged Horses were back in the air before you could say “Pegs and kettle drums.”
As they waited, which wasn’t long, Peter whispered to Lucy, “That sure beats climbing down.” The queen giggled at her brother. The two groups soon departed – the monarchs back to the village so they could start back to Cair, and the Winged Horses to the Seven Isles to bring their people home.
-x-x-x-x-x-
It was a week later when Narnia’s monarchs expected the arrival of the Winged Horses. It was during their mid-day meal when they heard neighing from out over the water. The young kings and queens ran to the nearest window, and Lucy shouted, “They’re here! They’re here!”
The Four observed that the Winged Horses were heading for a large field near Cair Paravel. So as quickly and as dignified as they could, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy went down to the stables to get their horses and rode out to the field.
When the Kings and Queens arrived at the field, it was filled with hundred of newcomers and just as many Narnians who had seen the Winged Horses arrive. There was much chatter. The Winged Horse families talking to one another, Narnians talking to each other, and a bit braver Narnians who began talking to the Winged Horses to make them feel at home.
High King Peter reared his horse to get everyone’s attention. “Narnians! Today we witness a special occasion. The welcoming home of the Winged Horses.”
Next, Queen Susan spoke. “They fled from Narnia during the first year of Jadis’ rule because she allowed her followers to kill and eat them.”
“And just a few weeks ago,” King Edmund continued. “One family came back to see if rumors of Jadis’ death and our reign were true.”
“Just last week, my royal brother, King Peter and I invited the family to bring their people home. Today, by Aslan’s will, they have returned. May the be welcomed into Narnia and into your hearts. May they never be forced to flee again,” Queen Lucy finished.
Together, the monarchs said, “Welcome home.”
And to this, the Narnians cheer, for they were whole again.
In the spirit of the day, I wanted to include a special little holiday something for everyone. Happy Christmas, NFFR!
Twas a night in November, and in NFFR land
two elves had joined forces, and then hatched a plan;
"Let's do something special for folks this year!
I know it is Christmas, and time for good cheer!"
"Father Christmas is off in the North making toys,
but what about gifts for Narnia's girls and boys?"
The elves did debate and muddle and think,
Until finally one said with a bright, cheery wink:
“Let’s make an exchange, a party of sorts,
Where people can trade their goods like good sports!”
"Fan fictions and artwork and vids there shall be,
to spread a fan-tastic Christmas to you and to me!"
But this thing they proposed was no small task,
They set off with the project with a hope (and a flask).
Members of NFFR were encouraged to give,
And soon enough there were enough for the spirit to live!
So off did the elves set to finish their work,
sending emails and PMs to everyone (even Professor Kirke!)
Many authors united and uncapped their pens,
while artists did likewise through their artistic lens.
Happy new friends and old gathered to see such a sight
of this online community's gift-giving might.
With careful precision the elves gathered gifts,
putting them in a sack filled up to the tip.
And through a week did the elves give with glee
New Christmas treasures for all to see!
Some were long, some were short, others wide, others tall,
but it was the thought behind the gifts that did count most of all.
Now happily sipping their beverage of choice,
all the NFFRs gathered round their computers and then did rejoice.
"Happy Christmas and New Years to all of our friends!
May our next year be bright, and may this year now END!"
Happy Christmas! Hope everyone has enjoyed a happy holiday!
A fic for thehowlingwolf
Discoveries Now Ancient
For thehowlingwolf, with a wish for a happy Christmas.
K plus. Peter/ OC
It is a snowy evening and Jane is reading to Peter from her Biology text about the structure of the human DNA- a phenomenal scientific discovery that still has scientists everywhere practically leaping with glee even two decades after its initial founding.
In between bouts of Peter thinking to himself that Jane was making more and more sense genetically, Peter won't think at all.
He sits on the old red couch of library's study room, with Jane sitting so closely that he can feel the heat her body was releasing due to the chemical reactions of her molecules. What sorts of reactions did skin like that have to go through, in order to retain such a perfect, creamy colour? Peter doesn't really care, as long as his pupils continue to admit light, the cones and rods in his eyes willingly shaping her image.
Jane finishes a section on ribonucleic acids, and smiles ironically up at him, as if apologizing for the blandness of the stuffy, intellectually-puffed words. Peter can't mind, though, because his own DNA renders him with excellent hearing, and he really, truly, adores hearing her voice lilt warmly around him, sinking like a teasing breeze through his auricle, drumming a sweet vibration around and around in the inner workings of the cochlea and semicircular canals. Is this part of that ninety-eight percent of human DNA that is exactly the same as everyone else's? Or does she only sound like an angel to the two percent that makes Peter, Peter?
Jane shifts, so close Peter swears his epidermis will singe from the beautiful warm and moist air expelled from her alveoli, exchanging oxygen for carbon dioxide, mixing with her blood, with her genetics, breathing onto Peter. It makes him wish with utter lunacy that somehow he could breathe in and make her even a small part of him.
Genetically, Peter can see her Scandinavian roots- the honey blonde hair, straight and pulled loosely back, really just dead skin cells that had been spun into gold. A genetic Rumplestiltskin that Peter felt himself praising fervently. Her mouth was full, collagen and sensitive skin flushed with that same blood- that same DNA- and Peter wondered if it was only her two percent of DNA that made her lips look so edible- A single enchanted bite that would send Peter reeling into oblivion, that one kiss that would wake him up from this genetic spell he was cast under.
Honey and cream and apple-red were in Jane's DNA, and Peter wants to know what genius put them there so that he can give them thanks for the feast set before him.
"Dr. Pevensie?" Jane teases, because she has eyes like Peter's, just as keen, laughing even though no DNA Peter knows of can place a smile in the eyes besides Jane's, and she knows that he isn't really thinking about the section of catalysts.
"Nurse?" Peter manages, and if his voice is scant, it's because his brain is failing to fire the synapses for his diaphragm to supply an adequate oxygen supply to his lungs, and for his tongue to unglue itself from the roof of his mouth.
"The Professor won't favour you anymore if you fail this test tomorrow," Jane says, and because her DNA recognizes an admirer while her intellect may not, Peter's sharp eyes can count the tremors of blood flowing through her jugular vein in the side of her creamy neck. It beats a little faster than Peter is used to, and the rhythm of it all entrances him.
Perhaps more synapses are firing that Peter thought, because suddenly his right triceps contracts and his hand is moving forwards, finger pads chock with nerve endings stirring against the cream of her neck.
It's so smooth, that Peter thinks it can't be solid. The electromagnetic field of her atoms can't be that strong, yet despite all appearances, the flesh is strong, not liquid, pliable but not without a returning force of its own. Another tremor vibrates through his nerves, but the warmth of Jane at his side does not diminish, and now he finds the mind to order his hand to stay there, in that comfortable spot above her pulsing life.
Jane continues reading in a voice so soft that Peter would not have known her larynx was restricting in tune with her melodic notes if his hand did not feel the thrumming sway of violins in her throat. Laughter in her eyes... an orchestra in her voice...
Peter removes his hand, exchanging it with his lips.
...Sweet cream in her skin.
"Peter..."
He can taste his name, and everything that makes him who he is, is dancing at the sample of victory lingering on the tip of his tongue.
"Jane," he returns, and relishes the tremolo of vocal chords as his lingering mouth tickles her pulse and her DNA dances against his skin, her laughter infecting him with genetic joy, and he finds his mouth smiling by an ancient code into the line of her jaw.
Another giggle, ticklish, and creamy fingers are gently lifting his head, bathing the fiery beat of constricting blood vessels in his cheekbones with cool fingers, as soft as her neck, and he kisses those, too.
"Studying?" A reminder. A request for guidance.
"Later," he insists, because the two percent that makes Peter, Peter, wants to explore the two percent that makes Jane, Jane, more than anything else in the world.
And maybe the two percent that makes Jane, Jane wants to know him just as badly, because the she needs no further instruction.
As soon as his vocal folds are finished vibrating, her sternocliedomastiod muscles twist her head to the side and synapses are shooting in his own skull like a firework display, blinding both rods and cones inside of his eyes, his brain receiving no image but those tantalizing, apple-red lips that have just captured his, and feeling nothing but honey flowing through his fingers.
If he had been traveling by desert for forty years, he could not have been more parched, yet here was Jane, with the promise of Heaven in her very DNA.
'Watson and Crick really have no idea,' Peter finds himself thinking, as well as, 'I think I might just pass this test...'
A fic for lizzen
Match Point
“Eustace! Come along now or we’ll be late for tea at the Beckworths’!”
Edmund grimaced as Aunt Alberta’s voice cut through his concentration. It was like music to the ears, really—or nails on a chalkboard, depending on which way you looked at it. Ed finished pulling on his socks and headed into the hallway, where his oaf of a cousin practically knocked him down the stairs as he came barreling past.
“Excuse you,” Eustace spat at him, regaining his balance.
Edmund narrowed his eyes and glanced up the stairs to the room his sister was staying in while they were forced to co-habitate with their relatives. “Oy, Eustace! What were you doing in Lucy’s room?” Eustace was down the stairs before Edmund could grab him.
“None of your business!”
Edmund heard the front door slam and rolled his eyes. At least he and Lucy were free of them for the afternoon, although they were given strict instructions not to touch anything, absolutely anything, that didn’t belong to them. Considering that nothing belonged to them since this wasn’t their house, Edmund and Lucy were left with very few options to amuse themselves.
“Lucy!” Edmund called down the stairs. “We should check your room! I just caught Eustace snooping around up there.”
Lucy appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a book open in her hand. “Oh, no. You don’t think he put ants in my bed again?”
“Only one way to find out.” Ed waited until Lucy joined him on the landing, then they both ascended the next flight of stairs. Lucy sighed before slowly pushing open the shabby bedroom door.
The room was really just a small attic space where they’d stuffed a rusty old bed, a set of drawers, and an old painting that Harold and Alberta hated, but at least it was hers and she didn’t have to share a room with Eustace and his bug collections. That kid was completely barmy.
They both stood in the doorway and peered into the room. “Anything out of place?” Edmund asked.
“Hm…not at first glance, no,” Lucy said. She moved cautiously into the room and over to one side of the bed. “On the count of three?”
Ed nodded and gripped one side of the sheets. When Lucy got to “three,” they both flung the blankets back. The crisp white linen was exactly as Lucy had left it that morning. Eustace thought he was very clever to scare his cousin by putting his little pets into her bed, but Lucy really only found it annoying and cruel for the bugs. Apparently he had something else in mind this time, though.
“Interesting. Well, that isn’t what he was after then, was it?”
Lucy’s eyes scanned the room until they fell onto her chest of drawers. “I don’t think he would have gone through my underclothes, but…” She pulled open the drawer and rummaged around a bit, then after a minute she turned and uttered a word she rarely ever used. “The letters are gone, Edmund! All of Susan’s letters!”
Edmund’s hands curled into fists. “You know, Lu, I try very hard not to hate anyone in this world, but it is very, very difficult not to hate that little rat.”
Lucy’s eyes sparked. “Don’t call him that. Even the worst rats we’ve known have been ten times better than he is sometimes.” She checked her other hiding spaces, but apparently Eustace hadn’t yet figured those out because the letters from Peter and their parents were still where she’d left them. “I am unbelievably tired of his stupid little games, Edmund. We have to stay here until who knows when and I am already so tired of it.” Her voice was full of frustration.
Edmund’s jaw tightened. He knew anyone that grated on Lucy’s nerves so badly was really an awful person, considering she could put up with practically anything and keep a cheerful smile on her face. And he knew how much Susan’s letters meant to her, as well. Lucy was most definitely living vicariously through their sister and her exciting letters about America since they had arrived at their aunt and uncle’s house. She was lonely, even with Ed there to keep her company, and it killed him to see that the usual light in her eyes had dimmed considerably in the last few weeks. He did hate anyone that made Lucy feel like that.
Without a word, Edmund turned and stalked back down the stairs, straight into Eustace’s room.
“Edmund? What are you doing?” Lucy hurried after him, stopping in the doorway. She never came into Eustace’s room if she could help it.
“If you were Eustace, where would your diary be, Lu?”
Very carefully, Ed began shifting things around on the top of Eustace’s dresser.
“Well obviously, I would hide it, Edmund. Look under his bed.”
Edmund dropped to his knees and glanced under the bed. “This is the grossest thing I’ve ever seen,” he muttered. He carefully pushed aside the books filled with bugs pinned to the pages and felt around, but never came up with the diary. “He probably keeps it with him all the time. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Oh, well,” Lucy said. “We’ll get the letters back tonight. Let’s just go back to my room.”
“Wait a second.” Edmund’s hand closed around a small box and he pulled it out. “Look! The little pig is hoarding candy down here.” He tossed a few pieces to Lucy, who caught them easily, and then popped one in his mouth, as well.
“Don’t take too many, Edmund, he’ll notice,” Lucy warned. “And then you know we’ll get stuck doing even more chores around here than we already do.”
“I know…the little arse would blame everything on us if he could.” Ed popped one more in his mouth, ignoring the look of reproachment from his sister for his language, then without really thinking about it, spit it back out into the wrapper. Lucy raised her eyebrows questioningly, but Edmund just grinned and carefully rewrapped the candy. “Speaking of arses…if there’s one person who can play that game better than Eustace, it’s me.” Edmund carefully laid the candy next to him on the floor and moved onto the next piece.
“Edmund!” Lucy exclaimed when she realized what he was doing. “That’s disgusting. Oh, don’t, that’s horribly mean…”
“Just think of it as beating him at his own game, Lu.” Edmund continued until all of the candies had been rewrapped, then replaced the box exactly as he’d found it under the bed. “There, I’m done. He’ll never even know it, Lucy, you can’t tell. It’ll just be for our pleasure…” Edmund stood and brushed his hands off on his pants.
“For your pleasure, you mean. I think it was an awful thing to do.” She tried to look stern, but Edmund just looked back at her evenly, cocking his head to the side. ‘Wait for it…’ he thought to himself.
Finally, Lucy could stand it no longer and let out a bark of laughter. Edmund pointed at her and laughed.
“Ha! I knew it! You do think it’s funny!”
Lucy covered her mouth with her hand, only letting a few more giggles escape between her fingers. She gently shoved Edmund out of the way and headed back up the stairs to her room. “Oh, Ed, you’re awful. You really are.”
“I may be awful, but I made you smile.” And that, Edmund grinned, would get on Eustace’s nerves more than anything else. Eustace could play any games he wanted, really – Edmund was quite sure he was a more than qualified adversary.
A Fic for lunawannabe
Noises in the Night
It was summer during the fourth year of the Golden Reign. Kings Peter and Edmund and Queens Susan and Lucy were busy running the country, dealing with foreign diplomats, and defending Narnia from her attackers.
One warm day in Greenroof, a Faun by the name of Fezmir came to Cair Paravel on behalf of his town in the northwestern part of Narnia. It seemed his town was having a peck of trouble, for residents heard curious and scary noises in the dark of night for two weeks. The town’s people decided to take the matter to the Kings and Queens in case the sounds were of the Northern Giants.
Fezmir patiently wait his turn during court. He was the last one to speak to the Four, so it would do him no good to be impatient. Finally, after two hours of arguments being settled, and the monarchs granting permission for proper docks and boats to be built, it was Fezmir’s turn.
“Who is next, Moreto?” High King Peter asked the Marshal of the List, a Grizzly Bear.
“Faun Fezmir of the Town Melba,” replied the Marshal. At the call of his name, Fezmir walked to the steps of the dais and bowed to his monarchs.
“What brings you here, Faun Fezmir?” asked Queen Susan.
“I came, your Majesties, because my town has been hearing noises in the night, and we know not what makes them,” Fezmir answered.
Queen Lucy grew anxious with excitement, for she always enjoyed a mystery. The young queen could see similar excitement in the eyes of her siblings. Lucy already had a feeling Peter was going to investigate the noises, and she dearly wished to go.
“Curious,” Edmund said to himself, though everyone was thinking similarly. “How long have these noises been occurring?”
“Two weeks, Sire.”
“From where are the noises coming?” Lucy asked, barely containing her excitement. The High King gave an inaudible chuckle. Susan smiled at her sister, and Edmund gave a small smirk.
“The mountains about a mile or so from the village, Queen Lucy. They have the people scared enough that there has not been any night-time dances as of late.” The room stirred in a bit of shock. Narnia was known for her summer dances, and to not have any was a serious matter.
Peter stood, and everyone became silent. “We will look into your predicament, dear Faun. You may stay here until my siblings and I send an investigation party to your town.”
“Thank you, King Peter. My thanks to all of you,” said Fezmir.
-x-x-x-x-x-
“Lucy . . .” Peter started.
“I want to go, Peter,” Lucy said forcefully.
“But Lu,” said Susan. “You’re only twelve years old.”
“So? Peter’s seventeen, and that’s old enough to go on a mystery that could kill him? I’m sure Edmund would go if Peter needed company and asked, and he is only a year older than me.”
Her eldest siblings were silent. “She’s got a point,” said Edmund.
“How?” Peter challenged, even though he very well knew she had a valid point.
“Lucy is twelve. Three years older than when I fought in the Battle of Beruna, and a year younger than you were, Peter. She’s even recently fought with the two of us in battle, and Lu can hold her own.”
Peter nodded in acknowledgement, Susan sighed, and Luck beamed.
“And besides, if it’s anything that can be dealt with peacefully, Lucy is quite the little diplomat,” Edmund added as he remembered Lucy negotiating trade agreements with Galma a few months ago. The agreement did a great deal of good for the country; it brought new spices, foods, and other goods into Narnia.
Peter was silent for a minute before he said, “Alright, Lucy. Prepare to depart early tomorrow morning.”
Lucy hugged her brother in happiness. “Thank you, Peter.”
The young queen then turned to her other brother. “And thank you Edmund.”
The Just King shrugged. “Was nothing, Lu.”
The Valiant smiled.
-x-x-x-x-x-
High King Peter, Queen Lucy, Fezmir, and their guard arrived at Melba two days after departing from Cair Paravel. The sun was just beginning to set, and many people were out to greet their monarchs.
“There is no special place for you to sleep, Majesties, but there is an extra bed at my place if your Highnesses do not mind sharing,” Fezmir offered.
Lucy looked to Peter with a smile. Peter nodded to the Faun. “We do not mind. Is there an open area near your home where our guard may camp?”
“Yes, King Peter. There is some space behind my house for them.”
“Our thanks, Fezmir,” said Lucy.
The Royal group settled down to where they would be staying. Peter and Lucy helped their guard make camp behind Fezmir’s house. Then everyone had dinner and went to sleep.
A few hours into the night, what sounded like a shriek, woke Lucy. A few seconds later, she heard it again. Carefully, the queen rose from the bed, strapped on her belt – that held her dagger and cordial, and grabbed her cloak. Fezmir’s house was dark as Lucy moved through it, but the light of the full moon allowed her to avoid bumping into things and waking her brother or her host. Though, the Valiant Queen had a feeling Fezmir was awake anyway.
After she exited the house, the young queen walked towards the village’s northern edge to see if she could catch a glimpse of what was making the noise. A large SWOOSH caught Lucy’s attention, and she looked to the mountains. Above the mountain peak were three flying creatures. Queen Lucy attempted to figure out what kind of animal they were, but they moved to fast. One of them suddenly changed its course and flew in Lucy’s direction. Once it was a few feet from her, it rolled and shrieked, causing Lucy to jump. A large hand came down gently on her shoulder, and she gave a small gasp.
“It’s alright, Lu. It’s me,” came her brother’s soothing voice.
Peter put his arm around his little sister’s shoulders, and Lucy put her arm around his middle. “When did you wake?”
“A few minutes ago, when I heard the first shriek. I was hoping you hadn’t heard it.”
“So you were awake when I left?” she asked looking up at her brother.
The High King nodded. “I decided to follow you once you left the room,” said Peter as he continued to watch the flying creatures. “What do you suppose they are?”
“I don’t know,” Lucy answered. “They don’t slow down enough for me to look.” The young queen then gave a big yawn.
Peter smiled. “Let’s go back and try to get some sleep. And then tomorrow we can figure out what these flying creatures are, okay?”
“M’kay,” Lucy said sleepily.
Peter chuckled and helped his baby sister back inside.
-x-x-x-x-x-
“But Peter . . .”
“No, Lucy. I’ve gone and surveyed the mountain. It’s very steep and can only be traversed by hand-climbing. Something you’re not dressed for.”
Lucy huffed as her brother was right. If she even attempted climbing in her skirts, she could fall and seriously injure herself. And the young queen was not proficient at hand-climbing, so it would’ve made it even more difficult.
“I’ll take six Fauns and Satyrs with me. The rest of the guard will stay with you,” the elder Royal informed her.
“Alright,” Queen Lucy said, depressed.
The High King gave his sister a sad smile. “I’m sorry you can’t go.”
The Valiant returned the smile. “Just go so you can hurry back.”
The Magnificent pressed his lips to her head. “I shall.”
“Aslan be with you!” she called as he went outside.
“And with you!” her brother called back.
As soon as Peter was off, Lucy headed into the town. She saw a school area and many small shop-keeps that varied in merchandise.
Some had jewelry, others food items, tools, or material for sewing. Queen Lucy stopped at each of these shops, and she talked with most of the towns folk. They all were honoured to meet her, and they were touched that she and the High king would personally deal with their problem. The Narnians also wondered why she was not with the High King at the moment.
“It is because I am not properly dressed to climb the mountain, and I am not very good at hand-climbing,” Queen Lucy explained.
“Posh,” said a Gryphon named Skylor. “I can take you up, your Majesty.”
The young queen smiled brightly. “I would very much appreciate that, Lady Skylor. How soon can we leave?”
The Gryphon responded by coming up beside her. Queen Lucy promptly mounted, and Skylor sprung into the air. They landed about where
Lucy saw the flying creatures the night before within ten minutes. The queen dismounted and began to visually search for the creatures.
“Will you still be in need my services, Queen Lucy?” Skylor asked.
She turned back to the Gryphon. “Mmm, no. I do not believe so. The creatures my royal brother and I saw last night fly, so I will hopefully come down with them. Thank you, Skylor, for bringing me.”
“It was my pleasure, your Majesty. I look forward to seeing you back in town.” And Skylor took off.
Lucy began to explore the plateau she was on, careful to stay clear of the edge. After a few minutes, the queen came across a cave. Immediately, she sensed that the cave held the winged creatures.
“Aslan protect me,” Lucy whispered to herself.
Queen Lucy stood ten feet from the cave’s entrance and drew her dagger in case she needed it. She was about to call out to the cave when Peter’s voice startled her.
“I say, Lu. You always find a way around anything that restrains you,” the High King remarked.
“What can I say? It’s a gift,” the Valiant Queen countered.
“How in Narnia did you get up here?” Peter asked as he helped his Faun and Satyr guards up.
“A resident Gryphon gave me a ride. She didn’t like the excuse of improper clothes and lacking climbing abilities,” Lucy answered with a smile.
Peter gave a soft snort and smiled as he shook his head. “I do believe you were about to call out to the creatures when I spoke,” the Magnificent said as he shifted Rhindon from his back to his hip.
Taking the hint, Lucy turned around and drew a deep breath. “Hello?! Is anybody there?” the twelve year old shouted. The queen was about to call again when they heard a rustling and what sounded like the clipping of hooves.
Out stepped three Winged Horses. They looked to be a family: one was all brown, another black with white stockings and wings, and the colt was beige with white wings, mane and tail.
The brown one stepped forward. “My name is Barna, descendent of Fledge, the first Winged Horse. This is my husband, Flenis, and our son, Terán, also descendents of Fledge. Who are you?”
The Valiant Queen looked to her sibling, and he nodded to her. She turned back to Barna. “I am Queen Lucy the Valiant of Narnia, and this is my brother, High King Peter the Magnificent of Narnia. We rule this land along side our sister, Queen Susan the Gentle, and our brother, King Edmund the Just.”
“Jadis rules no more?” Flenis asked.
“Yes,” Peter answered. “Aslan slew her four years ago. He then made me and my siblings monarchs of Narnia. A blessing, truly.”
“Then you will forgive our behavior, your Majesties. We did not know,” Barna said.
“That is quite alright,” said Queen Lucy. “I must ask, though, why did your kind leave Narnia?”
“It began just before Jadis’ rule,” Flenis started. “Our grandparents began searching for places to live in case we ever needed to flee.”
“And they found an isolated place on one of the Seven Isles. They returned to Narnia and told the other Winged Horses about the spot,” Barna continued. “The Winged Horses were glad to have the escape place, for when Jadis invaded Narnia, she let her foul creatures slay our families for food.”
“And ever since, the Winged Horses have been living in the Seven Isles. Recently, we heard chatter of new monarchs, and that Jadis was gone. The rumors were reported to Mortír, the head of all herds. And it was decided that out family should come over here to confirm it,” Flenis finished.
“But why did you wait two weeks here on the mountain? Why did you fly around at night and scare the villagers?” Peter questioned.
“We didn’t mean to,” Terán quickly said. “Because Mama and Papa weren’t sure if her agents were still around, we hid in the day and flew at night.”
“But what about coming to Cair Paravel? It’s right on the coast,” the High King asked the colt.
Terán shrugged his wings. “We flew here at night and missed it. We meant no harm.”
The King and Queen smiled at the Winged Horse family. “We would be honoured and most grateful if your kind returned to Narnia,” the Magnificent offered.
“Oh, yes. It would be lovely to have all of Narnia’s people whole,” Lucy added.
Barna, Flenis, and Terán all shared a look and then whinnied happily. Lucy clapped her hand (having long ago re-sheathed her dagger), and Peter smiled brightly.
“How soon will you leave?” Queen Lucy inquired.
“As soon as possible, your Majesty,” Barna answered.
“Oh, good. Though I do have one last question to ask.”
“What is it, Queen Lucy?”
“Might I get a ride down? I came up here by Gryphon.”
“Of course, Majesty. In fact, Flenis and I could take the lot of you down in two trips if you rode two per horse.”
“You are most gracious,” said Peter.
“It is the least we can do in return for you inviting us back home, King Peter,” Flenis said.
Lucy and Peter mounted Barna, and two Fauns mounted Flenis. Quick as a wink, they were down beside the mountain, dismounted, and the Winged Horses were back in the air before you could say “Pegs and kettle drums.”
As they waited, which wasn’t long, Peter whispered to Lucy, “That sure beats climbing down.” The queen giggled at her brother. The two groups soon departed – the monarchs back to the village so they could start back to Cair, and the Winged Horses to the Seven Isles to bring their people home.
-x-x-x-x-x-
It was a week later when Narnia’s monarchs expected the arrival of the Winged Horses. It was during their mid-day meal when they heard neighing from out over the water. The young kings and queens ran to the nearest window, and Lucy shouted, “They’re here! They’re here!”
The Four observed that the Winged Horses were heading for a large field near Cair Paravel. So as quickly and as dignified as they could, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy went down to the stables to get their horses and rode out to the field.
When the Kings and Queens arrived at the field, it was filled with hundred of newcomers and just as many Narnians who had seen the Winged Horses arrive. There was much chatter. The Winged Horse families talking to one another, Narnians talking to each other, and a bit braver Narnians who began talking to the Winged Horses to make them feel at home.
High King Peter reared his horse to get everyone’s attention. “Narnians! Today we witness a special occasion. The welcoming home of the Winged Horses.”
Next, Queen Susan spoke. “They fled from Narnia during the first year of Jadis’ rule because she allowed her followers to kill and eat them.”
“And just a few weeks ago,” King Edmund continued. “One family came back to see if rumors of Jadis’ death and our reign were true.”
“Just last week, my royal brother, King Peter and I invited the family to bring their people home. Today, by Aslan’s will, they have returned. May the be welcomed into Narnia and into your hearts. May they never be forced to flee again,” Queen Lucy finished.
Together, the monarchs said, “Welcome home.”
And to this, the Narnians cheer, for they were whole again.
In the spirit of the day, I wanted to include a special little holiday something for everyone. Happy Christmas, NFFR!
Twas a night in November, and in NFFR land
two elves had joined forces, and then hatched a plan;
"Let's do something special for folks this year!
I know it is Christmas, and time for good cheer!"
"Father Christmas is off in the North making toys,
but what about gifts for Narnia's girls and boys?"
The elves did debate and muddle and think,
Until finally one said with a bright, cheery wink:
“Let’s make an exchange, a party of sorts,
Where people can trade their goods like good sports!”
"Fan fictions and artwork and vids there shall be,
to spread a fan-tastic Christmas to you and to me!"
But this thing they proposed was no small task,
They set off with the project with a hope (and a flask).
Members of NFFR were encouraged to give,
And soon enough there were enough for the spirit to live!
So off did the elves set to finish their work,
sending emails and PMs to everyone (even Professor Kirke!)
Many authors united and uncapped their pens,
while artists did likewise through their artistic lens.
Happy new friends and old gathered to see such a sight
of this online community's gift-giving might.
With careful precision the elves gathered gifts,
putting them in a sack filled up to the tip.
And through a week did the elves give with glee
New Christmas treasures for all to see!
Some were long, some were short, others wide, others tall,
but it was the thought behind the gifts that did count most of all.
Now happily sipping their beverage of choice,
all the NFFRs gathered round their computers and then did rejoice.
"Happy Christmas and New Years to all of our friends!
May our next year be bright, and may this year now END!"
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no subject
Date: 2010-12-26 02:21 am (UTC)Merry Christmas!
no subject
Date: 2010-12-28 01:52 am (UTC)I was giggling at the movieverse VDT fic! Loved when Ed licked the candies and got Lucy laughing!
Nice bit of Narnia world-building with the flying horse story. I loved the Gryphon taking Lucy up the cliff.
And the poem was great! This is so much fun, ladies!
no subject
Date: 2010-12-28 05:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-28 08:50 pm (UTC)Oh Edmund. I thought it was foul in the film and it's foul now, but I am so glad you made poor, depressed Lucy laugh.
And flying horses!! Oh, there should be more flying horses! Lovely, and I'm so glad you had Lucy not be put off by a simple issue of clothes and hand climbing!