once upon a dream

“ah, that makes sense. big historical events that just mark a place in an era — earth has had a lot of wars, damn.” she made a face. not that narnia hadn’t had a lot of wars. “pre-maleficent and post-maleficent. that makes sense. that was the biggest thing to happen in auroria, right? it’s reasonable.” she nodded. “’the reign of philip beau’? so, auradon’s would be ‘the reign of adam de villeneuve’? that’s so …” she crinkled her nose. “complicated. there are too many rulers for that shit.” she shook her head in disapproval. “maybe so. it’d make sense. it’s been centuries. i’m sure he’ll discuss it with me more as it grows closer to my coronation or whatever.” she shrugged. her father would know when the right time for such a discussion was. she trusted him to know as much. “exactly. mostly because humans aren’t really made for narnia. or, rather, narnia was not made for humans. if it was, it would have been made a part of earth.” she bunched her lips at one side. “it hasn’t been that way for two decades, though. i mean, it’s not as though everybody can just go in and out of narnia as they please, but … people have gone there without having any business with narnia, which is not the purpose of the gates being open.” she sighed. “i guess so.” she hummed.

she stopped when he did, pursing her lips. “honestly, though. i mean … so much stuff has happened here. no one has learned. nothing has changed. i don’t understand.” she made a face in clear disapproval. “makes sense. not dying is a very important matter, i must say.” she half-joked.

“earth has many wars. you could consider this auradon vs villain thing a war. i would.” people weren’t sending out troops, but there was an obvious struggle and an obvious division between the isle and auradon, and with good reason. darcy didn’t agree with the villains and what they did, but he could understand why they would hold a grudge. he probably would too. “yeah, it was. what maleficent did to my mother is the biggest thing to go down in aurorian history, so it makes sense.” when astoria crinkled her nose, he crinkled his. it didn’t sound right. “it makes him sound so pretentious. which he is, but his era of reign is going to go down in history as being bad decision after bad decision.” darcy didn’t think he would be able to wait for his parents to talk with him about inheriting and responsibilities and the like. he’d want to know everything as soon as possible so he knew what he was getting himself into. it didn’t help that his parents just loved to keep things from him, even if they weren’t all that great at keeping secrets, at least from him. “that makes sense. humans are earth creatures, and narnia isn’t earth. i understand what you mean, though. i can’t say i know much about narnia, but i wouldn’t want anyone going in and out of my secret place as they please if they don’t have any reason to be there. but at the same time, just shutting the gates?” he just shrugged. it wasn’t his decision to make.

helen’s fingers stumbled as it tried to finish braiding her hair but darcy’s words just made her tired and she gave up. “first world problems, royalty problems…” she muttered, groaning. “i always thought jasmine dressing up as a commoner was just outrageous and unnecessary but honestly? i wish we could still do that. that’s virtually impossible nowadays. and, don’t worry, i’ll bring 2009 back just for you. emo prince darcy.” her hard frown changed to a more dramatic pout. “…wouldn’t that be more successful with a few choice friends by your side?” she said, in a sing-song. “i’m already buying you food, you could just drop a name…”

“yeah, exactly like that — and i’m not sure how earth names it’s eras or whatever, but narnia names them based on what happened in that age — for example, the age of winter.” she hummed with a nod. the comparisons between earth and narnia were close enough, she decided. “i guess you’re right, but …” she made a face, sighing. “sometimes i wonder what’s the point if my father is immortal — and then caspian is there to act as king at cair paravel.” she gave a roll of her eyes. “yeah, basically. that’s how it was before … auradon, i guess. even he pevensies had needed permission to enter — whether it be through a wardrobe, a train, a painting — that is what my father wants to return it to, and i can’t say that i disagree, i guess, but … i don’t want it to be as strict as it once was.” she bunched her lips at one side in thought. “i mean, before auradon, a human could only enter narnia if he or she or they had a purpose, and that just — it seems tedious.” she tapped her fingers against the spine of her book as they walked. “great, of course, to meet reepicheep, one would have to go to my father’s country — which is a bit farther, but all the more beautiful, if i do say so myself.” of course, she was more than just a bit biased.

“it’s so pessimistic — not that i’m one to talk. i suppose the negative points are some of the most interesting to people.” she shrugged. “auroria is known for knowledge and research, though, you said?” she looked over to him. “i get that. i can’t say that i relate —” narnia was always on her mind, truly. “— but it makes sense. you haven’t been there in a while, right? focusing on your studies, on not dying here.

“i know some of ours are named after wars. the first world war, the second world war, the cold war, things like that. just... lots and lots of wars. in auroria, we sometimes refer to things as pre-maleficent and post-maleficent, but other than that, we don’t label much. sometimes in politics, we refer to each era by their ruler. like, this era would be called ‘the reign of phillip beau’ or something like that.” darcy wasn’t about to ask what cair paravel was. he assumed he was getting a bit annoying with all the questions. narnia was just such a fascinating place. “i’ll admit, i don’t really get it, either. maybe your father wants a break? and he has an heir, so he finally has someone he can leave narnia to? i’ve never met him, though, so i wouldn’t know.” it occurred to him that he would likely have to meet aslan at some point, if this arranged marriage deal was to continue, and the thought made him a little nervous. “so... you can still get into narnia, just in different, unconventional ways?” he wondered what entering narnia by painting was like. he’d never heard of that before. “so, you could basically only enter narnia if narnia had business with you, not if you had business with narnia.” that seemed incredibly one-sided to him, if he did say so himself. “then i guess i’ll just have to go to your father’s country.”

“…okay, maybe ‘own’ isn’t the right word for it….” helen un-did her ponytail, gathering it up into a braid over her shoulder. “but i always understood my role as just being for the people. responsible for the people, accountable to the people…” she recited. “please, you’re a regular comedian. i hear you’re popular with the goth and emo crowd,” she grinned. the grin dropped to a disappointed frown. “what, why not?”

“because we’re royalty and half our lives are owned by the people. usually that’s a good thing but…” helen trailed off, shaking her head. she liked working for the people, but she usually only thought this for corona. not the whole of auradon. “that makes you the fun one. it’ll be harder to find dirt on the regent because of consequences and defamation and whatever.” she waited for the name but when it didn’t come, helen pulled a face. “okay, and they are…?” 

“they do,” she hummed, nodding her head slightly. “there have been many ages in narnia, each one consisting of many different events — we are currently in, what the narnians like to call, ‘the age of exploration’. i can only imagine what will come after this.” she gave a sigh. she was concerned for narnia’s future. so much had happened already, and with everything going on with her ( her weird episodes, the arranged marriage ), she wasn’t sure that she would make the best ruler. “t us believed that during the winter age, they suffered from the winter, as well. and so, during the telmarine age, the telmarines just … ignored them. nobody knows the entire truth, though, because there is nothing to prove any of it.” she shrugged. “and i would ask a scholar here, but if i did that, i might as well just ask my father, but even then … i’m just not sure.” she shrugged. she figured that if anyone knew, he would, but considering his absence during the winter age, she wasn’t sure that he would even know. at his question, she paused. “… honestly? i can’t be sure. i hope that i will be able to change what i want, but …” but her father had sung narnia into existence. he’d known it from day one. “my father has been ruling over narnia for … centuries. and, while i want to rule in my own way, i also … don’t want to let him down by doing something that he may disagree with, you know?” another pause. “he wants to close narnia’s gates, though. he doesn’t want people just … entering for no reason, and … and i’m not sure if i agree with that.” she bunched her lips at one side, shrugging slightly as if dismissing her worries completely. “oh, yeah, the talking mice. reepicheep was their leader — they’re all great. you should meet ‘em one day.”

“yeah, it seems to be the most well-known, which is understandable, i guess. before that, nothing really big had happened, and after that, nothing quite as bad occurred — nothing that effected narnia the way the winter had, anyway.” she shrugged. “honestly, i can’t even remember what it feels like. i’ve been here far too long.”

“ages... so basically what we call the different eras here. like... like the middle ages, the renaissance, things like that. they just have different names because the history of narnia is different.” he was only half-sure of what he was saying, which was why he kept looking to astoria for confirmation. if he was going to get facts about narnia, he was going to make sure they were correct. as much as he disagreed with this arranged marriage of theirs, he did believe that astoria would be a good ruler. she was knowledgeable about her realm, she seemed to always be working on paperwork, so she was clearly dedicated. she had ideas of what she wanted to do. she hadn’t lost hope, as pessimistic as she seemed to be at times ( not that he was any different, of course ). when she explained the situation with her father’s rule technically continuing when she was queen, he couldn’t help but relate. although he wasn’t next in line, he didn’t want to disappoint his parents. “no, i understand. i don’t like going against my parents either, even if i don’t agree with them. still, there’s no need for any backseat ruling.” like backseat driving, but worse. “so closing the gates basically means no one gets in without permission, and that it’s likely that most people would be turned away anyway?” that’s what it sounded like to him, anyway. “they sound like fun, i’d love to.” he didn’t even think of the implications of meeting narnia’s residents.

“oh, never,” she jokingly agreed, laughing softly with a shake of her head. surprisingly enough, for the first time since finding out about it, astoria wasn’t dwelling on their current situation. it was but a distant thought in the back of her mind — for the time being, at least. who know how long that would last, though?

“exactly.” she hummed with a nod. it was just like some of the places in auradon, she figured. it was simple enough. “well, yeah. i mean, my uncle caspian tried to retake them, but … it didn’t really do much for them.” she made a face. as much as caspian was her favourite uncle, she didn’t always approve of how he ruled when he wasn’t voyaging. “for as long as almost anyone can remember, though —” aside from, perhaps, her father. “— they have been called ‘the lone islands’, and so no one really knows why they are lone.” she ran her fingers through her hair. “yeah, i’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. i don’t know when i’ll ascend, and i’m sure that my dad will still watch over narnia — he created the damn place, after all — because he’s not just going to just … let it go, i guess? but, yeah … i want to change things if i can. try to make it better.“ she just wasn’t sure where to start. “oh, yeah, reepicheep is the leader of narnia’s talking mice. he now resides in aslan’s country. he’s a good friend.” she nodded. there was more to reepicheep’s story, of course — much more — but she was trying to keep things as simple as possible.

“yeah, that one is kind of the … iconic story, i guess? the pevensies found narnia, there was a lamppost, the white witch, blah-blah-blah …” she hummed. it was a good story, she supposed, but it wasn’t her favourite. not at all. “you would be very correct. narnia has been at peace the entirety of my lifetime, and probably before then, too. there is conflict here and there, of course, but for the most part, it’s peaceful.”

at least someone had tried to do something, even if it wasn’t all that successful. it was a start. a bad start, but a start nonetheless. “then you can learn from his failures. and times change, even in narnia.” or at least he hoped so. narnia may have worked far differently than auradon and the rest of the world in general, but he didn’t want to shove the place under the ‘unchangeable’ label and leave it at that, not when astoria wanted to change it. “and no one’s ever tried to find out? or is it just that there are no leads to the truth?” auroria documented just about everything that happened in not just its home state, but all of auradon. the entire world, even. its libraries were second to none, and there were plenty of scholars around to tell you how things were hundreds, even thousands, of years ago. “do you think you’ll be able to have the freedom to change what you want, or do you think your father will continue to have the final say?” he knew that if he was a ruler of any kind, he would want to have the final decision, or at least be told what was happening and why. he thought it was better that way. “narnia’s talking mice, huh?” he wasn’t even surprised anymore.

“i mean, you’re not wrong …” she said, with the slightest of smiles. truthfully, the two of them always seemed to just talking — what about depended on the topic at hand, of course. “perfect. so, in case the fairy in my class fails me, we’ve got a backup plan~”

astoria briefly thought back to eustace and how he’d been turned into a dragon, and she crinkled her nose in amusement. “narnia isn’t a place for riddles, but like — there are things that will trick people, you know?” she tried to explain, ultimately shrugging. “yeah, captured and sold — some of them even used to be sacrificed to the mist. no one’s done anything about it because … because it’s one of the lone islands, and those, altogether, are just kind of lost causes, you know? they’re the lesser-explored part of narnia. people stay away from them for a reason. and narnia is so … big. even with my father and caspian, and sometimes the pevensies … it’s impossible to take care of every little thing.” she paused, thinking. “i want to get rid of it, though — when i become the goddess of narnia, and not just the goddess of the end of the world.” she smiled a bit. she nodded as he tried to make sense of what she’d told him. “precisely. and, from what i remember, the three lords who fell asleep were on a long exploration, and they stopped at my father’s table for a drink and a meal. they ended up arguing about what to do next — one wanted to carry on to the utter east, another wanted to stay at my father’s table to eat the food every day, and the other wanted to return to narnia. they couldn’t agree on what to do next, so i guess he just got angry or something.” she shrugged. “— and to use the stone knife is an absolute no, and violence is forbidden at aslan’s table, so …” she shrugged. “but then they were awakened, though, by the placing of the seven swords and by reepicheep sailing to the very end of the world.”

“i completely agree,” she said with a nod. “i mean, don’t get me wrong, narnia isn’t always safe. i mean, for a century, narnia was stuck in an eternal winter because some witch took it over, so …” she made a face. “— but it’s not like narnia is a school, you know? it’s a realm. there’s bound to be danger sometimes.”

“i’m never wrong.” a lie, and they both knew it, but all friends teased each other, right? even if he and astoria were more lowkey about it than others. a small part of him knew his parents would love to see them getting along, and as much as he wanted to prove them wrong, he wasn’t about to risk a friendship over it.

“i think i get it. it’s not riddles, but just plain tricks. every place has that.” some were mundane, some were magical. each place, auradon or not, had its dangers. that wasn’t about to change anytime soon. “i understand that narnia is big, but those islands are still part of it, and places only end up being lost causes when people forget about them or ignore them as they get progressively worse.” he didn’t want to outright blame the narnians, especially since he didn’t know the whole story, but every little part of narnia was still narnia. it was the same for everywhere else, even if the states of auradon were comparatively smaller. “well, at least you know what you want to do when you ascend to the throne.” a plan was always a good way to start, or at least that was what he’d been told. “so it was probably a mixture of exhaustion, frustration, and temporary anger that made them have a lapse in judgement.” it still didn’t excuse it, but at least it made more sense. “reepicheep?” that was an interesting name, and one he hadn’t heard before.

“oh, i won’t,” she smiled, looking over at him. “and what i find out about the fairies, i’ll tell you — if you care, of course.” truth be told, she’d probably tell him even if he didn’t care. she was stubborn that way.

“yeah, essentially,” she said, with a slight nod. “truth be told, though, no one really knows if one of the lords was killed by a dragon or turned into a dragon — either way, he’s dead now, but still.” she shrugged. her guess was the latter, simply because of what had happened to her uncle eustace. “yeah, deathwater island.” she gave a light laugh. “everything in narnia is pretty straightforward — unless it’s not, i guess? most things are, but then you get places like … narrowhaven, which, essentially, should be a place of safety or refuge, but instead is a place where people are captures and sold …” she bunched her lips at one side. “why narrowhaven still exists, i don’t know.” note to self: first act as narnian goddess — get rid of the island of narrowhaven. “— huh? oh, yeah, the green mist. it’s gone now, nothing to worry about, but it was some kind of mystical fog, first seen in the east. it devoured people, almost. it had the ability to make one’s thoughts become real — for example, my uncle thought of a sea serpent around the mist, and then a sea serpent attacked them. it wasn’t what put the lords to sleep, however — they fell asleep because one of the lords picked up the stone knife that was used to kill my father at one point — long story — and he was going to fight the other lords with it, but that knife is not to be touched, so …”

“yeah, it’s a completely different realm. nothing is the same over there.” she paused. “… yeah, i guess i am. i’d never thought of it that way, really.”

“you’d tell me even if i didn’t care.” he was the same. they always seemed to just tell each other things, little facts or drawn out stories from history books. “but i am curious. i could always ask the three fairies if your way comes up dry.”

darcy didn’t know which was worse; being killed by a dragon or being turned into a dragon. considering his family’s previous collisions with dragons, he would vastly prefer neither. “everything is straightforward unless it’s not? i didn’t know narnia was a place of riddles. i thought that was reserved for wonderland.” wonderland, yet another place he didn’t entirely understand. he wasn’t sure if the people from wonderland itself even understood it. “people are captured and sold? and no one’s done anything about it? or was it just considered a lost cause?” perhaps he was young and optimistic ( okay, no, hardly optimistic, because darcy beau could never be described as optimistic ), but he liked to think rulers were supposed to look out for their citizens, or at least do what was right. “i wasn’t worried, i figured it was already gone. but okay, let me see if i’ve got this right -- the green mist makes people’s thoughts become real, but doesn’t put them to sleep. the lord picked up the-knife-that-must-not-be-touched to fight the other lords. okay, i can believe that. but why was he going to fight the other lords? what was the point? the motive? or is it a mystery?” he had to admit, it was an intriguing story.

“fair enough. i know the fairy in one of my classes can change her size. i’ll have to ask her,” she hummed. of course, it wasn’t as if she expected kasiah to have all of the answers to all fairies — but she could hope.

“i mean, i guess? the two who died, died in an act of greed — one tried to steal from a dragon, i presume, and the other fell into the pool on deathwater Island. he got turned into a golden statue. — as for the lords found at aslan’s table, i believe they were able to finally awake once all seven swords were placed on the table, and the green mist had been vanquished.” she tried to explain as simply as possible, knowing that the story seemed to get more and more complicated as she continued.

she gave a light laugh at his question. “there actually is a completely normal narnian explanation,” she confirmed with a nod. “in narnia, the world is flat and circular. you can find the end of the world at the utter east. at the west of the utter east is the silver sea, and on the silver sea’s east, beyond the solid wall of the sky, is my father’s country — aslan’s country, which is notably the end of the world since it it from there that the sun rises each day.”

“don’t go out of your way.” though he was sure that astoria wouldn’t bother asking if she wasn’t interested in finding out the answers for herself. they were alike that way. he still wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

“oh, i see. so they got what they deserved, essentially.” harsh, but true. though he couldn’t say he wouldn’t steal from a dragon. he just needed the right reasons to do so. “deathwater island, huh? what a charming name.” he always found it amusing how places could be named that way, like a warning. “...the green mist? what? was that what was putting them to sleep, or...?” this was the first he’d heard of any mist.

“sounds like a pain in the ass. can all fairies just change sizes like that?” she crinkled her nose. she was thankful that the dryads hadn’t the ability to change their size. “because they were loyal to his father when he was ‘king of narnia’ —” astoria made a face, at that; she hated the concept of the ‘kings and queens of narnia’. “then, caspian’s uncle, miraz, took over and banished the seven lords — caspian wanted to welcome the lords back into narnia, i believe. then, they ended up sailing to the end of the world just for the fun of it? and the only person to enter was a mouse.” of course, though, astoria adored reepicheep.

“are you serious? she tried to hide?” astoria couldn’t help but laugh a bit. the idea of one of the iconic three fairies doing something so childish quite a humorous image to the girl. “oh, there were purposes. like …” she thought. “his most memorable voyage was the voyage to find the seven lords and their swords — two of the lords were found dead, though. three were found at my father’s table in an enchanted sleep. one was found alive, though in a state of trauma-induced psychosis. and one of them was found imprisoned on one of narnia’s lone islands. the voyage was a complete bust, if you ask me.” she scoffed. “however, my uncle caspian sought out my father’s country, though it’s not like he entered or anything, and so it didn’t really do him much good.

“that’s logistically impossible, i think you’re safe,” she said, wiping the sweat off her forehead and making her way to the racks so she could put her sword away. “ugh, ‘bad publicity’. i hate publicity,” helen scowled. “if they do force you, though…we’ll think of something before that happens. do you at least know who you’re going to be engaged to?” she couldn’t remember the name she’d read on the gossip blog.

astoria followed in suit, shoving her notebook into her bag while she walked. “ah, makes sense. at least you got through to them, though, you know?” she hummed. “i kinda had the same problem — and it didn’t help that the only person my dad trusted to teach me to sword-fight was always years-long voyages and shit.” she rolled her eyes.

“yeah, i guess i do. and you’re right. there will always be times where magic doesn’t come in handy.” she nodded. “that’s perfectly fine.” she began to gather all of her papers. “lead the way?”

“it is, but mostly with the knights and voyagers. i have magic, so i’ve never really needed to learn how to sword-fight — well, i’ve never had time to learn.” she crinkled her nose. “really? i’d really appreciate that, actually.”

“i mean, i read, i guess, but …” she shrugged. she didn’t have much time to read for fun, though. “— your sword? that’s not boring. i can’t use a sword.” caspian had offered to teach her time and time again, but they were both always far too busy.