~ by Rebekah DeVall
Swanwhite leaped to her feet as she heard the knock on the door. It was Valentine’s Day, and this beautiful queen was looking forward to at least one special person’s gift.
“Henri!” She smiled. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”
“And a happy Valentine’s Day to you as well, m’dear!” He bowed low, still holding one hand behind him. “How does this morning find you?”
She smiled, a gleam in her eyes. “This day is a joyous holiday for all of our people. Gifts and chocolates—nay, even true love abounds. Narnia is truly happy on this day.”
“What of the rumors?” Henri gazed at her, a troubled look in his blue eyes. “Have you any more news?”
“None, my prince.” Swanwhite shrugged and glided over to her vanity, sitting down in front of it. Pulling a brush out from a drawer, she began to use it on her hair, moving from scalp to the tips of her tresses, which fell around her knees. “What truth can there be when only the birds speak of it? They are friendly creatures, but their constant chatter makes me doubt their honesty.” She rolled her eyes.
“Even birds can see.” Henri leaned against the doorway and eyed her in the mirror. “What if there really is a witch out there, pretending to be queen of Narnia? You could be in danger.”
“I fear nothing.” The young queen gazed into the mirror, her eyes reflecting a passion far greater than any love. “Aslan is on my side. He will do as He chooses.”
They stared at each other through the mirror for several moments.
“Close your eyes,” he said abruptly.
“Why?”
“Just do it.” In the mirror, Swanwhite watched Henri move both hands behind him, and then she closed her eyes. She listened to his footsteps coming closer and closer, padding on the soft carpet. Something cool was fastened around her neck, and she tried to open her eyes.
“Nay, m’lady.” Henri placed his hand over her eyes. “Listen to me for but a moment.”
“Alright.” She leaned back in her seat.
“You are a wise and beautiful queen, but you know what I love most about you?”
Swanwhite smiled. This was going to be quite romantic, she sensed. “No, my love. Tell me.”
“I love your faith, your trust.” His breath was warm on her neck. “I want you to keep your eyes closed until I leave the room. Then you may look at your gift. On it, you will find the name of the one whom you may trust with your life, the one who loves you more than anything.”
Swanwhite nodded, and his hand slowly left her eyes. She kept them closed until she heard Henri shut the door behind him. Then she opened her eyes slowly, and they caught the sight of a beautiful sapphire heart gleaming on her neck. With a gasp, she fingered the lovely jewel.
It was flawless, crafted by the Black Dwarves, she guessed. Every facet was perfectly in place, and not a mark marred the surface. Even the gold chain was light and exquisitely wrought. But what had Henri meant about the name?
She fingered the jewel for a moment, and her fingers caught the feeling of a name etched on the sapphire. A, she made out. The young queen bit her lip. Why was it not his own name on the heart?
But when she felt for the rest of the name, she knew. Henri was right. This was a name that she could trust with life, with love, with all eternity.
Aslan.
***
Susan Pevensie, formerly of Finchley, and now the Gentle Queen of Narnia, seemed to be hiding something. She stood in the corner of her royal chambers, slightly hunched over a small stand with a golden bowl on it.
“What are you doing, Su?” Edmund’s voice made her jump.
She turned, concealing the stand behind her, and exclaimed nervously, “I-I- uh- nothing.”
“Then what are you up here for?” He grinned mischievously. “There are quite a lot of suitors downstairs, begging for your hand.”
Susan rolled her eyes. “I am in no mood for the Valentine’s Day ball,” she said. “Go enjoy yourself, Edmund.”
A breath of cool evening air came through the window, blowing a piece of paper off the table behind Susan. Edmund dived for it.
“What is this?” he asked, catching it up from the floor before Susan could reach it. “Prince Rabadash of Calormen?”
She blushed. “Give that back!”
“Not until you tell me what you’re up to.” He looked around her and saw the pile of papers. “What are all these for, anyway?”
Susan sighed and turned around, giving him full view of the table. “It’s an old Narnian custom,” she said, picking up another folded piece of paper and dropping it inside the bowl of water. “Whichever name rises to the top is supposed to be your true love.”
“Bah!” Ed huffed. “What are you going to do if Rabadash’s name comes to the top?”
“Consider his proposal.” The queen turned away, trying to hide the look on her face. It was ridiculous, now that she put it into words. But there had been so many suitors, and she didn’t know which one to choose!
Edmund reached for a blank slip of paper on the other side of the table.
“What do you think you are doing?” Susan leaped for the paper, all embarrassment forgotten. “Give that back here!”
“No.” Edmund pulled a pencil from his pocket. “Just trust me, Susan. I’m adding someone that really loves you to that bowl.”
“But…”
“But, nothing.” He folded the piece of paper and threw it into the bowl with the rest of the names. “Just see if that name doesn’t rise to the top. Love-hungry, aren’t we?” He turned to walk out of the room.
“Wait, Ed, I’m sorry! It was silly, I know!” Susan tried to follow her brother.
He turned at the doorway to look back at her. “We’ll be waiting for you downstairs, Su.” His dark eyes looked into hers for a moment. “Go find out about your true love.”
He closed the door behind him, leaving the queen standing alone for a moment. What name did he write? she wondered.
Gathering her skirts around her, she turned back to the table. One lonely paper floated on the top of the water. She opened it, and silently mouthed the precious name.
Aslan.
***
Will I ever be as beautiful as Susan? Lucy looked at herself in the mirror, troubled thoughts passing through her brain like the storm waters over the ship. Will I always be the ugly duckling of the family?
“You are beautiful, dear heart.” Lucy turned and saw nothing, no one, behind her. She looked into the mirror again.
No, I am not. Susan had suitors a-plenty in the Golden Age. She and Caspian fell in love. Now, she has all her friends from her parties and from school, and who do I have? No one!
“You have Me.” The lion’s voice rang in the small ship’s cabin. “Will you not be satisfied?”
“Aslan!” Lucy looked around the room. He was nowhere to be seen. She looked into the mirror again, and there he was, a lion wrapped in golden glow.
“Why are you unhappy, child?” The great Lion gazed at her, sorrow in his eyes. “Have I not given you everything?”
“You have, Aslan. It’s just…”
“You think you are not beautiful,” he interrupted.
She ducked her head. “Yes, Aslan.”
“Do you want to know what I think?” Aslan asked, his low voice rumbling. “I think you are a beautiful young lady.”
“But not so beautiful as Susan,” Lucy protested. “Look at all the friends she has! Everyone loves her.”
“Beauty does not result in love,” Aslan insisted. “Only those who know you well, who look past your outward beauty and to your beauty within, will ever truly love you.”
“Aslan, I…” Lucy looked into the reflection in the mirror. “How can people see my inner beauty? I’m just… well, me!”
“Those who look for true beauty will find it,” the lion whispered low. “Have faith, Lucy. True love will come.”
He began to vanish, leaving one word on Lucy’s lips.
“Aslan!”