Eleanor Pevensie has never truly returned from Narnia. Trapped in her teenage body, with the mind and memories of a High Queen, England feels like a cage-one she cannot escape. Her once comforting escape into books now feels hollow, and even her clo...
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The girls stepped back into the cool shade of the forest, freshly changed into their new clothes. The wardrobe had done its job well; their uniforms and blazers were replaced with outfits that echoed their Narnian past. Lucy, her face lit with a wide smile, twirled in her red dress, enjoying the soft, free-flowing fabric as it swirled around her legs.
Susan, ever practical, adjusted the quiver of arrows slung across her back, the light purple of her gown making her look regal and ready for battle all at once. She ran a hand through her dark hair, making sure it wasn't tangled, before pulling her bow snugly across her shoulder.
Then there was Eleanor. The High Queen of Narnia, eldest of the Pevensie sisters, wore her well-worn tunic and trousers with ease, a battle axe resting comfortably at her hip and her throwing knives strapped around her waist. She was all practicality, with not a dress in sight, and she glanced down at her siblings with a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Lucy, I think if you spin any more, you'll end up dizzy," Eleanor teased, though the warmth in her voice made it clear she found her younger sister's joy infectious.
Lucy grinned up at her. "I'm just so happy to be back in something Narnian! It feels like home again."
"Well, it's not exactly one of Tumnus's tea parties," Eleanor quipped, patting the handle of her axe. "But I suppose it's close enough."
Susan, standing a little straighter, gave Eleanor a quick once-over. "Are you sure you don't want something a bit more... queenly?" She raised an eyebrow at her sister's rugged attire. "I mean, it wouldn't hurt to dress the part, El."
Eleanor rolled her eyes good-naturedly, adjusting the strap of her axe. "I'll have you know, this is queenly. Just a different kind of queen." She gestured at herself. "Practical. Battle-ready. And I'm not tripping over some silly gown if a fight breaks out."
Peter, having emerged from the trees, shook his head, an amused grin on his face. "She's got a point, Su. You remember the last time she wore a dress in battle—"
"Let's not talk about that," Eleanor interjected quickly, narrowing her eyes at her brother. "I told you, the whole thing was an accident."
Edmund snorted, already knowing where Peter was headed with this story. "An accident that nearly took out half the battlefield."
Eleanor huffed and punched Edmund's shoulder lightly. "One loose hem and suddenly I'm a hazard to everyone around me. Very funny, Ed."
Edmund rubbed his shoulder but grinned mischievously. "Well, to be fair, you nearly took me out."
Peter crossed his arms, nodding sagely. "You did say, 'I swear it won't happen again' after that little incident."
"Yes, and it hasn't happened again, has it?" Eleanor pointed out, though the corners of her lips twitched upward. "So can we just drop it? I'm not the one who showed up late to a battle once because someone—" she looked pointedly at Peter, "—couldn't find his sword."
