Where the Lamppost Flickers

love lies bleeding

It was an impossibly dark night. Moonless, it seemed, with precious few stars above the Lantern Waste. Thankfully, the lamppost was as bright as ever, the only warming light in the icy blackness.

Unsurely, as heavily as though her feet were made of stone, Lucy took a step forward. There was something resting under the light of the lantern, against the post-a someone, a person.

When she finally, after much shuffling and exertion, reached the poor soul resting there so wearily, Lucy studied the person to see who they were. It took a moment, since everything except for the small area around the post where the light fell was so dark that looking at it felt like being blind, but the slouching manner and dark hair under the warm yellow glow were familiar to her, so she knew him. It was Edmund.

She started to bend down to his level when she heard herself gasp. For a moment it was dark, then light again, then dark. The lamppost, the strongest light in the world, was flickering rapidly. And not just a little flicker like the once she swore she had seen when she left the western woods as a king's bride, either; a real, extinguishing flicker.

In the dark something from behind grabbed her arm and shook her. "Mother! Wake up!"

Lucy's eyes shot open. She wasn't in the Lantern Waste under a flickering lamppost; she was in her bed at Cair Paravel, where she was queen. It had only been a dream.

Above her was the worried face of her stepson, Rilian, his golden hair mussed up and his shift hanging in an untidy manner as if he had just flung it over himself haphazardly before racing into her chambers.

"What's happening?" Lucy murmured, blinking up at him.

"Cair Paravel's under attack!" cried Rilian, pulling her out of the bed and over towards the wardrobe. "Father asked me to make sure you hide in the tunnel in case something goes wrong and the enemy soldiers manage to break into the castle."

"Let me get my bow and arrows," suggested Lucy. Although she was feeling rather afraid, she was none too keen on hiding while everyone else-her stepson included-fought off whomever was attacking their home. Weren't queens supposed to defend their country?

"No!" said Rilian, half-dragging her into the now-open wardrobe by this point. "You're too young, Mother; and you've only just started learning archery."

"But-" she started to protest as he-firmly but not roughly-pushed her into the tunnel, forcing a small copper candleholder with the teeniest burning candle she had ever seen into her hands.

"Narnia cannot stand to lose another queen," Rilian whispered gravely.

"I-" she tried.

"Neither can Father."

Defeated for the time being, Lucy took a step back, swallowed grimly, and allowed her stepson to replace the rack with her still in the tunnel. Alone and frightened, her hands shook-causing a few drops of hot tallow to drop down from the candle and onto the floor, narrowly missing her bare feet.

Distantly, she could hear Rilian draw his sword and run out of her chambers, ready to fight. The battle itself must have been going on in a different part of the vast castle, for as soon as the prince was gone, Lucy heard no more of it.

Ever so slowly, the seconds became minutes and the minutes turned to hours. Queen Lucy was too tired to stand up for more than an hour, so after a while she simply found a cool, reasonably comfortable space within the gaping hole and laid down on her belly, staring into the ever-shrinking candle.

The candle was nearly gone now, little more than a useless chunk of hard-wax in a deep melted puddle, holding up the remains of a dying flame. Clearly, it was about to go out.