After the End (Narnia)

Chapter II - Over the Divide

True Narnia was a flurry of activity. The sun was finally shining, a cause for celebration after three days of refreshing, yet hindering, rain. In England, today would have marked the middle of winter, and the True Narnians had decided to rejoice in their luck of having pleasant weather throughout what they had previously known as the cooler season. It was time to partake in what Narnians had always done best - celebrating.

The woods of Aslan's Country seemed even sweeter to eighteen-year-old Lucy Pevensie now that she lived among them. The mixture of coast and forest that surrounded Cair Paravel had always filled her with wonder, and surprisingly, she had not tired of it in the years she had lived in True Narnia. These thoughts swirled around her head as she stumbled along a narrow forest path. Her arms were filled with baskets full of fresh orchard fruits, and she hummed a little tune as she walked along.

A downy head emerged from the trees, startling Lucy from her reverie. "Hallo, Luce," Eustace grinned. Lucy laughed and shook her head. Eustace was remarkably different now that he had grown up. Sometimes, he was almost tolerable. Still grinning, Eustace took one of the baskets from Lucy and marched towards their destination. "Are you keen for the party tonight?" Lucy asked. "You know I am. Reepicheep hasn't been around for a while. I'm looking forward to seeing him. Oh, and the food of course. The food will be exquisite, I'm sure," Eustace responded, snatching an apple from one of the baskets. "That is, if you don't eat it first," Lucy teased. "Put the apple back, Eustace." With another exasperated grin Eustace replaced the apple.

By the time they reached their destination, Lucy and Eustace had discussed the endless outcomes of the night and had dropped dozens of apples along the way. A young centaur met them at the entrance to the forest clearing that was to be the venue for the night. "Ah, we were waiting for the fruit. The middle of the table will do. Thank you both." The two moved towards the large tables set out in the centre of the clearing. The branches above them were laced with fairy lights, a recent addition to the realm of Aslan's Country. It was set up to be a perfect celebration.

At the base of a tree, a faun sat playing an unusual flute. Lucy sat down beside him and embraced him as an old friend. "Nice to see you again, Mr Tumnus," she addressed him. The faun raised a curly eyebrow in disbelief. "I believe you saw me only this morning, Queen Lucy," he replied with a cheeky smirk. "Hmm, you're right. We've been preparing so much that today has felt like three days in one!" Tumnus chuckled at the thought. He brought the flute to his lips once more and continued to play a jaunty tune that was both happy and haunting. Lucy listened with a quiet sense of awe. Even without magic, the faun's music never failed to calm her worries. Finishing the song, Tumnus stood up to observe the tables where food was being laid out. Offering a hand to Lucy, the two walked back towards the castle for more supplies. Eustace smiled. The two had a lovely friendship.

Peter Pevensie stood in the kitchen with a focused expression furrowing his brow. The event was set to be relatively informal, but it was important that everything was done correctly. "Can someone keep an eye on that pot, please? It wouldn't do to have the meat burn," he requested, following the activity with precision. He had never taken himself as a planner or a domestic man, but he had found himself enjoying the role since entering True Narnia. He enjoyed baking almost as much as he enjoyed practising his combat skills, and he had found it to be an extremely rewarding pastime. Standing at the door of the kitchen giving orders, Peter felt as if this was what he had been missing as a King, being involved in the small things. With a small smile, he addressed the kitchen workers. "Great job everyone, we should have this done well in time for tonight."

Caspian burst through the back door in a cloud of flour. "Why did you assign me to bread-making? You know I grew up as a noble!" The former Telmarine prince was covered in flour, sweat and frustration. Peter almost laughed at the sight. "Blimey Caspian! I thought you could read a recipe!" Peter chuckled, answered only by a discontented grunt. Barking to the team a command to keep going, Peter followed the distraught prince into the adjoining room, and stared in amazement. Every surface in the room was covered in flour. "How on earth did this happen?" Peter was utterly perplexed by the sight. Caspian pointed towards the wooden mixing bowl with an annoyingly arrogant grin. "The recipe said to mix vigorously. I didn't know that my vigorous was too vigorous," another chuckle escaped Caspian's lips. Peter shook his head. "When we started an alliance with a Telmarine prince, I never expected this to happen." Caspian replied with a wider, more mischievous smile. "I bet you weren't expecting this either." Before Peter had a chance to move, Caspian had enveloped Peter in a firm hug, coating both of the men in flour. "You're it!"

If the kitchen workers would have looked into the adjoining room fifteen minutes after Peter checked on Caspian, they would have seen two grown men covered in flour, clutching their stomachs laughing, with tears streaming down their faces. When Edmund and Jill came to collect them twenty minutes before the party began, they saw the exact same sight. With a cheeky glance it was settled - a flour war was declared, Caspian and Peter against Edmund and Jill.

All four were late to the party, watery eyed, smiles wide, and hair not fully rid of flour.