#lucy pevensie

[the-underlander]

Georgia Henley Study

[always-a-monarch]

It's summer so the bedroom window is wide open for air and a gust blows through, sends the paper fluttering. Both of them scramble to hold the map down before it flies up into their faces, except they go for the same corners - Lucy gets there first and so Jill's hands fall atop hers and all of a sudden Lucy goes very still. Jill looks up. The evening sun streams in, casts Lucy's face rosy, and there's a fondness in her eyes that twists in Jill's chest, like she's slipped that famous dagger between her ribs and turned it a quarter.

So I am, perhaps, writing a little Jill/Lucy thing... should be up soonish I hope!

If you like this, check out my other Narnia fic on ao3!

[scrrunchi]

Lucy and Ed practice🌄🤞🏻

[the-underlander]

i always found it interesting how disconnected susan feels from the other narnians compared to her siblings in the films. like most of her dialogue is directed toward her siblings about narnians rather than the narnians themselves. i think the people she talks the most to outside her family in the films are caspian, aslan and trumpkin. whereas peter, edmund and lucy are shown to interact directly with multiple narnians for longer periods of time both in the first movie and the other two. edmund has some kind of relationship with jadis, philip the horse, maugrim, aslan and mr. fox. peter talks a lot with the beavers, oreius and other members of his army. lucy, of course, has tumnus, the dryads and aslan. but susan has virtually no extensive scenes or conversations with these creatures. i wonder how much of that was deliberate foreshadowing and character development.

[the-underlander]

They emerged from the forest onto a grassy hillside that sloped down into the fields where the armies of Aslan and Jadis had met. In the distance rose the greatest of the knolls. What Trumpkin knew to be Aslan’s How.

Snowdrops and crocuses flocked down the hills in swathes, ruffled by the heedless wind. Rabbits, voles, and deer with their young played and grazed among them.

A whist echoed from above, one that made Trumpkin flinch as he looked up and spied the very agents of Aslan that had destroyed many of his fellow soldiers by raining down rocks. Circling the sun and swooping down into the grasses before carrying off with wild game. Their wings powerful billows. In the air with them lapwings—caught in the waltz of buoyant gales.

“Lion’s Country,” Lucy said.

Trumpkin swallowed heavily, feeling an ache in his throat. Of course that’s what they’d called it. The very wind sang of Aslan’s triumph here. Of Jadis’ defeat and the annihilation of all who followed her. Nowhere could he see any hint of the mass graves dug up in the aftermath. Only green, more green. Speckled with daffodils and primroses.

He’d scavenged these lands before, at night. Desperate for any scrap of metal he could bang together into something useful. He remembered the bones he’d found. Picked bare by hawks and ants alike. Dry, brittle and white as snow.

“They say Narnia’s heroes rest in Aslan’s Country,” Trumpkin spoke, voice rough with emotion. “A place where there is no death and no mourning. No battle.”

“It lies far into the East,” sighed Lucy. “So far that the water turns white before you get to the edge of the world. Aslan called it the True Narnia.”

Trumpkin snorted bitterly. “I suppose what happened here six and some years ago was all false.”

“No. Of course not.”

“I know this much. Were such a thing true, I would not be welcome in Aslan’s Country. Nor would I ever wish to be.”

If this offended the queen, she betrayed nothing, only waited, it felt, with him in silence. Listening to the hissing grass as the wind played upon it. Scattering ripples.

“We cross over here,” Queen Lucy said eventually, though her voice remained conversational. Steady. “On the first day. It helps the people remember what we won . . . and lost, I suppose. Before we set up camp there. At Aslan’s How.”

“They say you brought many of your own back from the brink of death,” Trumpkin spoke eventually. “What of those you did not reach in time?”

She met his gaze, though this time her eyes had no gold in them.

The smile she gave him was warm and sweet as she said, “You mustn’t pity them. They died Narnian heroes.”

A chill ran up his spine at the words.

Thankfully, they did not visit Aslan’s How, as neither found it necessary. Instead, they went back into the Eastwood, stopping momentarily to eat some apples, bread and cheese that Lucy had carried for them in a satchel.

He watched her intently as he ate. She used her dagger to finish decorating a whistle—for one of the fauns, she said—before blowing it. Centipedes and ladybugs crawled over her and butterflies fluttered about her head, orange as her hair where the sunbeams fell on them. She offered bits of her bread to some of the birds, grinning at what they twittered in her ear, and made room for the squirrels and skunks that came trundling out of the underbrush.

In many ways, Queen Lucy contrasted Jadis. Young where Jadis was old. Warm where she was cold. Eyes bright while Jadis’ were black as pitch. Kind where Jadis was cruel. Careless, perhaps, where Jadis was calculating. Generous where Jadis was harsh and unforgiving.

Yet, still, an old nervousness stirred within him as more animals poked out of their many holes, ears pointed toward Queen Lucy as she made merry music of her whistle.

For when it came to what mattered most, the two queens were very much alike.

(excerpt from Radiant, "Chapter 5. Aslan's How")

[ethereal-meadow]

✨ Me as female characters ✨

Kind, creative, strong, brave, caring, cheerful, special, determined, idealistic 🍃

If anyone wants to join the game, you're welcome!

[ajokewemade-finrodsfriend]

All credit goes to the creator @cairparavelnrnia

[ajokewemade-finrodsfriend]

All credit goes to the creator @potvensie