Luceryan Stoneshire @theinnocentdragontm - Tumblr Blog

#THEINNOCENTDRAGONTM : private and selective mutuals only Luceryan Stoneshire of The Chronicles of Narnia series. Original Character crossover/au friendly. Written by Katy 30+ she/her. Member of the Narnia Saga Family RPG; this blog is a sideblog and follows back from thedevotedhart

Minors DO NOT INTERACT

highly plot driven, slow activity. this blog uses the beta editor for replies! this blog will not shy away from triggering content and taboo subjects!

edits • chapters • musings • narnian saga family

AN EXPLORATION OF: death of the innocent; caught in the crossfire; does death have meaning; fate

And with his death, the war of fire and blood began

#dni #pinned post

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theinnocentdragontm

closed except for @oathboundfire

location: Lake Lacreymose, Narnia

April 11, 702.

They had not wanted him to go. They never wanted him to do anything. Always seeking to protect him. But he was a part of this family and he wanted to help. So behind Lorr's back, behind Lyssie's, he had begged Mother to let him go. Besides all he was doing was reconnaissance. What could possibly happen?

He felt the blow from the ballista before he ever heard Phaedron scream. A searing pain ripped through his chest, as if it were he who had struck, rather than the dragon. It was all Luceryan could do to hang on, as suddenly, they were no longer flying but falling.

Phaedron turned to look at him once, his eyes filled with confusion and fear, a mirror of Luceryan's own thoughts. Then, the light left his eyes as his soul left his body. Phaedron was dead, and Luceryan would be right behind him.

End over end they careened towards the ground until Luceryan could no longer tell which way was up. Perhaps it was better this way, being unable to watch the ground and his imminent death approach. Luceryan closed his eyes and thought instead of Lorrcan. What was he doing right now? Would he know what was about to-

Luceryan didn't feel himself hit the ground, crushed under Phaedron's weight. Instead, it was like everything had shifted. He opened his eyes and he was home. How was he home? Was it all a dream? Was it-

A soothing hand brushed his hair from his brow, and his immediate thought was Mother. He turned to look and recoiled sharply. The face he saw was not his mother's, but familiar to him all the same. It was a face he had gazed at hundreds of times...in a portrait. For this was the face of his grandmother, who had died before he was born.

His heart sank. It wasn't a dream, was it? "Oh, I'm dead...I'm really dead, aren't I?" He asked her softly.

oathboundfire

In less than a year, Swanwhite had lost two grandchildren.

Both young. Both lives taken. Both by the hand of the Seymour family.

Of them, she had met only Lamina before her own passing. Their reunion had been warm, almost merciful in its gentleness. Lamina had remembered her. Luceryan had not met her. Still, she had watched him all his life.

The knowledge did little to ease the ache that came with his death. Nor the loss of the dragon that had carried him — one of the sacred line she herself had restored to the world. A life extinguished for a war that had already taken too much, and would take more before it was finished.

Swanwhite did not dwell on it. Grief, like fire, had its place. It did not rule her.

She waited for him in a chamber shaped by memory — a quiet reflection of his own room at Cair Paravel. Not all souls woke easily in Aslan’s Country. Familiarity softened the crossing.

When he opened his eyes, she was already there. Her hand moved first, brushing the fair hair from his brow in a gesture as gentle as breath. It lingered only a moment before returning to rest in her lap. At last she saw him not through distance or prayer, but before her.

Luceryan recoiled. She did not move. ❝ You are,❞ Swanwhite said simply. Her voice was calm, even, as though speaking of an inevitable tide. ❝ I grieved to see it happen.❞ A quiet pause followed. ❝ And yet… it is good to meet you at last, Luceryan.❞ Her gaze softened, though her posture remained composed. ❝ Though I would have preferred to greet you many years from now.❞

theinnocentdragontm

Luceryan had heard from his whole family how warm his grandmother had been. How comforting and familiar. He wanted that comfort now. Needed it, even. He was scared. He was dead.

He practically fell off the bed as he lunged forward, flinging himself into her arms as he squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening. Any minute, he'd wake up and Mother would be there, or Lyssie. Lorrcan. Aunt Nenya. Anyone.

But when he opened his eyes, it was still his grandmother. He was still dead. "I don't want to be dead." He said softly, feeling tears fill his eyes. "I don't want—I didn't do anything wrong!" Phaedron hadn't even gotten close to the castles. How could they have done such a thing? How—

"Phaedron!" He exclaimed, pulling back. "Is he here? Is he-" He looked around wildly. Did dragons have an after life? Did they share it with humans? The thought of Phaedron being alone frightened him more than his death.

#verse: aslan's country #swanwhite

closed except for @oathboundfire

location: Lake Lacreymose, Narnia

April 11, 702.

They had not wanted him to go. They never wanted him to do anything. Always seeking to protect him, the baby of the family. But he was a part of this family and he wanted to help. So behind Lorr's back, behind Lyssie's, he had begged Mother to let him go. Besides all he was doing was reconnaissance. What could possibly happen?

He felt the blow from the ballista before he ever heard Phaedron scream. A searing pain ripped through his chest, as if it were he who had struck, rather than the dragon. It was all Luceryan could do to hang on, as suddenly, they were no longer flying but falling.

Phaedron turned to look at him once, his eyes filled with confusion and fear, a mirror of Luceryan's own thoughts. Then, the light left his eyes as his soul left his body. Phaedron was dead, and Luceryan would be right behind him.

End over end they careened towards the ground until Luceryan could no longer tell which way was up. Perhaps it was better this way, being unable to watch the ground and his imminent death approach. Luceryan closed his eyes and thought instead of Lorrcan. What was he doing right now? Would he know what was about to-

Luceryan didn't feel himself hit the ground, crushed under Phaedron's weight. Instead, it was like everything had shifted. He opened his eyes and he was home. How was he home? Was it all a dream? Was it-

A soothing hand brushed his hair from his brow, and his immediate thought was Mother. He turned to look and recoiled sharply. The face he saw was not his mother's, but familiar to him all the same. It was a face he had gazed at hundreds of times...in a portrait. For this was the face of his grandmother, who had died before he was born.

His heart sank. It wasn't a dream, was it? "Oh, I'm dead...I'm really dead, aren't I?" He asked her softly.

#verse: halves of a whole #verse: aslan's country #swanwhite

Status: closed except for @shebravery

Location: Cair Paravel Chapel, Narnia

Date: September 701

Luceryan had spent most of that awful week penned away with Jupiter and Daenyra. He had wanted to go to Lys, but Mother had told him she needed space...that someone needed to stay with the girls. So, he had. But as the week had gone on, it had become more and more evident that the girls didn't want him. They wanted Lysistrata. They wanted their mother.

He had gone to the chapel, intent on telling her that, after Mother had finally cut him loose from babysitting. But one look at his sister stopped him in his tracks. Lys had always been the strong one, the one sure of herself and taking charge of the others. Now, his heart broke for her.

She looked so...tired. So broken. She was baring the loss of a love Lu couldn't even comprehend. Aslan had not made him able to understand that love. But he loved his sister, and he could be there, even without words. "Oh, Lyssie." He said softly, more a breath than a whisper.

He crossed the room and dropped to the floor at her feet. They might scold him for getting his funeral clothes dirty but he didn't care. Today was going to be impossible for Lys and he wanted to make it even a fraction easier for her. Gently, he rested his head on her knee and gazed up at her, as he had countless times before. But this time, rather than seeking comfort, he was offering it. A simple gesture just to let her know he was here.

#verse: halves of a whole #lysistrata

#THEINNOCENTDRAGONTM : private and selective mutuals only Luceryan Stoneshire of The Chronicles of Narnia series. Original Character crossover/au friendly. Written by Katy 25+ she/her. Member of the Narnia Saga Family RPG; this blog is a sideblog and follows back from thedevotedhart