Clara Bronson never thought that a lion could ever be capable of speaking English, nor did she expect to find a whole world behind her grandfather's beloved wardrobe with four siblings from Finchley.
For many years Clara had lived a life of cold...
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THE GOLDEN AGE.
"Are you ready now?" Clara's hands dropped timidly from the silver lining along her dark blue cape and she turned to face the voice that had called out to her. "Eolian!" She said with a small smile, running to hug her.
The female centaur hugged her back, her toned arms tightening around the human girl. "You look like the queen you were meant to be." Eolian mumbled against Clara's hair.
She released her hold and the two stepped back from each other. "Is it finally time for the ceremony?" Clara asked. Eolian nodded, the all-knowing sparkle that Clara adored so much still rampant beneath the centaur's brown eyes.
The two left Clara's room to head to Cair Paravel's throne room, which were coincidentally not too far from one other.
Hundreds of Narnians had already established their place along the sidelines of the throne room, waiting for their saviors to enter and begin the crowning ceremony. The room had a certain buzz to it that elicited excitement as well as anticipation.
After centuries of fear and uncertainty, they were finally able to live as free creatures within their country.
Just before the entrance, Clara beamed joyfully as she caught sight of the Pevensie's and Aslan waiting for her. Much like her, they also had been dressed up in fine clothing and had the same radiant smiles on their faces.
"You look beautiful, Clara!" Lucy gasped as her eyes grew wide with awe. Clara chuckled as she self-consciously reached up to touch her intricate hairstyle. Her cheeks felt hot.
"Come now my children, let us not keep everyone waiting." The five fell side-by-side with Aslan as the doors her pushed open. Clara was nervous as eyes upon eyes shifted to watch them enter the room.
They walked down a flight of steps and through a group of centaurs who held their swords steady above their heads and finally came to stop just before four thrones.
Clara took that as her cue to step to the side next to Mr. and Mrs. Beaver as well as Mr. Tumnus who dawned a velvety gray scarf instead of his usual red. The beavers held four silver and gold crowns upon purple cushions and smiled up at her.
"I'm glad to see you're healthy, Mr. Tumnus." Clara said, taking his hand in hers and giving it a comforting squeeze. He squeezed back. "You too, dear Clara. I was surprised to hear that you killed that wretched witch yourself."
