the golden age

[deepest_magic]

When the party has died down, Isabella, for one, is well and truly exhausted. She explores the palace until she finds a room with a bed in it, and into this bed she flops, still in her clothes and holding her staff and carrying the cordial in her pocket. She sleeps late, because the party kept her up so late and she hadn't really slept the night before; but around noon, she stirs, and gets up, and goes looking for James and wherever her backpack may have got to. The backpack she finds in the great hall where the principal mass of the party was; some enterprising creature took both bags from the battlefield at Beruna up to the castle for them, and she only wishes she knew who it was. She takes her bag to her room and carries James's with her and continues looking for her friend.

Comments

[neverbeatme]

"Well, that's adorable," she says. "I wonder if being adorable is common among winged horses or if it's just him."

[deepest_magic]

"He's pretty cute! I don't know about the others, but if he gets any particularly cute replies if he talks to the others through my scepter I'll let you know."

[neverbeatme]

"Thank you. You're my favourite queen."

[deepest_magic]

"Oh, good."

[neverbeatme]

James giggles.

[deepest_magic]

Flit stays for a good while, during which while he is knighted with a holly-berry pin (Isabella gives him a scarf to put it on). His stated intention consists principally of "flying around a lot", but he seems inclined to do this in a helpful manner, intervening if he sees things that need intervening in and reporting back if he sees things that need to be reported on.

The winged horses wish to be formally citizenry of Narnia, and this is arranged without much ado, Flit continuing to serve as go-between. (None of them want to move to Cair Paravel as emergency mounts, but that's all right, there are already griffins around who can be called upon in a genuine crisis.)

The summer goes by. There is an incredible meteor shower one fine July night and Isabella stays up all night taking pictures of it. It becomes spectacularly hot that August and they have to explain to their wardrobe nymph how bathing suits are meant to work (dwarves being just about the only native Narnians with a care for modesty and disinclined as a group towards swimming) so that they can dunk in the sea, which is normally too cold for comfort but is very welcome in the baking summer. It cools off some by Queensday (Isabella turns fourteen) - in time for the honey cider to be served hot - and chills the rest of the way over the rest of the autumn, and winter settles in.

And Christmas comes.

[pythbox]

This time, Father Christmas comes in a different way. Actually, there isn't a door in that corner at all, just the end of a row of windows, so it's a bit of a mystery how he ends up approaching the thrones from that direction since all the windows are still shut.

He has a large bag over his shoulder.

[neverbeatme]

"Merry Christmas," says James when she looks up and spots him.

[deepest_magic]

"Merry Christmas," agrees Isabella.

[pythbox]

"Merry Christmas to you both," he says agreeably. "And here are your presents. James, Eve's son - you will find that washed-out bridges across the country have been restored, and damaged ones repaired, wherever the river-spirits permitted it; secondly, I have brought you this."

Out from the bag comes a large, heavy-looking bundle, which he sets at her feet.

[neverbeatme]

"Thanks!"

[pythbox]

"Isabella, Eve's daughter," he says, turning to her, "here is a bow which will guide you in its use, and some arrows which will return to their quiver when their task is complete." He extracts these items from his bag - bow, quiver - and hands them over. "And here is a cloak which will protect you from physical harms." It is folded into a bundle much smaller than James's bundle.

[deepest_magic]

"Thank you," says Isabella. She takes the weapon - recurved, smooth reddish wood, quiver matching-colored leather with white-fletched arrows, all very stylish - and then shakes out the cloak and tries it on. It's silvery-blue, like a river seen from high above, silken-soft. She buttons it from her chin to her knees and finds armholes under the extra capey layer around her shoulders and then flips up her hood and spins.

[pythbox]

Away goes Father Christmas.

[neverbeatme]

"Pretty!" says James admiringly. She has opened up her bundle and then closed it again. "Mine's some kind of armor. I'll wait until morning to try it on."

[deepest_magic]

"Makes sense. I'm just impatient. I hope these things grow with us, we're both getting taller."

[neverbeatme]

"It's Father Christmas. I bet they will."

[deepest_magic]

"I bet. But if I ask I might get fewer presents. I guess we'll see." Isabella trots off to bed, cloak billowing out below the knees behind her.

[neverbeatme]

James hauls her bundle up to her room.



The next morning, she tries it on.

[deepest_magic]

Isabella swings by her room precisely to have a look at it. Knock knock.

[neverbeatme]

She opens the door wearing her new armour.

A golden surcoat bearing the red lion of Narnia, over a coat of chainmail that clinks musically when she moves; steel gauntlets, etched with rows of tiny golden leaves that echo her crown, over gloves of the same golden fabric as the surcoat; gold-etched steel boots in the same style as the gauntlets, and likewise the steel plate that covers her arms and legs and shoulders. She even has her shield on her arm and her sword at her waist, and the object of the knightly orders secured to the other side of her sword-belt in a leather pouch. It's all very... kingly.

[deepest_magic]

It's very kingly.

"Um hi."

[neverbeatme]

...Well then.

"Hi."

[deepest_magic]

"The armor is cool."

[neverbeatme]

"Yes it is," she says, grinning.