``{his}story [open]

[Queen Lucy Pevensie]

Lucy strolled through the halls of Cair Paravel slowly. She had no particular place to go, so she was not in any hurry to get there. She missed the days of the Golden Age, when she had just walked and had nothing to do other than bask in the glory of the Narnian kingdom and the love that its people afforded her. That had been when there was peace. There was, fortunately, peace now, in the country just as there was in Lucy’s own heart. At least for the most part, anyway. It seemed that they were always called into Narnia to bring peace, and yet it meant anything but peace for their own hearts most of the time, because waging war was not something easily done or easily forgotten. This was especially true, she supposed, for Peter and Edmund, but she had gone into battle a few times herself, and knew that as hard as it was to be a warrior, it was even harder to be at home worrying and doing nothing, or even cleaning up the carnage when the war was over. She had to wonder whether it ever really was over.

Thinking this, she walked into the library, knowing the silence there would soothe her sometimes-troubled soul. She was, for the most part, a very cheerful girl. But the truth was, she was not even certain that she could be called a girl anymore. She was seventeen now, practically of marriageable age, no matter how vehemently and adorably Peter insisted otherwise. How wonderful it was to have such loving siblings! Yet no matter how much love they gave her – and certainly it was enough, make no mistake – she always wondered whether there was something else out there. There was Aslan, obviously. But she wondered whether she would ever be like Peter and Susan, whether she would ever find love of a different sort. It had not come up too much during the Golden Age, because she had only been a little older than the age she was now when it had ended. Peter had always been fiercely protective, and they had always assumed they had more time there. But that hadn’t been the case.

Now, however, it seemed as though Lucy had nothing but time. She sort of missed the days of chaos and diplomacy, no matter how stressful they had seemed then, because at least during that time she had been doing something. Now she felt utterly useless. Was wandering the halls really all that Aslan had in mind for her? It couldn’t be! She could serve as a comfort to her siblings, and entertain, and such. But it did not entirely fulfill her. She wished to help her siblings but it seemed as though she only got in their way. How was it that she could wish they would treat her as an adult, and yet never want to grow up? Listlessly, she walked through the maze of the bookshelves, picking up a hefty history volume and weighing it lovingly in her arms. She opened it and inhaled the rich scent of the past, flipping through the pages crisped by age. Her fingers landed on a drawing, one of a familiar face captured with remarkable likeness. “Mr. Tumnus,” she breathed, feeling her eyes fill with tears both happy and sad. “How I miss you! I wish you could be here with me now.”

She had made other friends, all of whom she loved dearly, but she was not sure if any of them could rival the place in her heart which Mr. Tumnus held. Mr. Tumnus was her first and dearest friend in Narnia (well, except for Aslan, of course!), and he had been to her what no one else had been. Trumpkin was also extremely close to her, and she still thought Reepicheep was adorable (though she would never insult him by saying so). But Mr. Tumnus… she would never again know anyone like him. But she would not see him – at least, not for a while. So she supposed she was just expected to be as cheerful as always. And so she would. There were plenty of other friends around, she knew. And she would go to see them soon. But for now, she just wanted to stand in the library and breathe in the history that surrounded her. She stroked the picture fondly, looking at it for a moment with a small smile on her face.

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