Narnia ficbits: Tirian's childhood
Apr. 19th, 2009 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardSeveral people asked about Tirian's childhood, the changes Rilian made to Cair Paravel, and the kings between Rilian and Tirian. So! Two bits, set about five years apart (maybe more, depending on how old you read Tirian in each one).
Characters:
King Gerion of Narnia (Grandda)
Queen Altagracia of Narnia (Nana)
Prince Erlian of Narnia (Papa)
Princess Siusiana of Narnia (Mama)
Prince Tirian of Narnia
Princess Eveline of Narnia
Vespasian of Glasswater
It's still dark out when Tirian's Nana gets him up, gathering him up in her arms. She's wearing none of her usual court splendor, just an old, soft dress and one of her robes. This one is a dark, purplish blue, with bright sparks speckled upon it in familiar patterns, like the night sky Tirian's mother shows him out the castle windows.
"Come on, love," Nana says. "Let's go see your mother and your new sister."
"I have a sister?" Tirian says excitedly, raising his head from her shoulder.
"Yes, you do," says Nana. "She's very pretty."
"What's her name?" he asks. "Does she like stories?"
"Her name is Eveline," Nana says. "And I'm sure she does."
The guards at the doors of Tirian's parents' bedroom snap to attention as they go inside. The room's crowded -- Tirian's father and his grandfather, his uncles and aunts, and the doctor and his mother's ladies-in-waiting.
"Look who's here to see his new sister," Nana announces.
"Mother, are you sure --" Papa begins.
Tirian cranes his head around to look at his father. Prince Erlian looks tired and strained, his face pale. Tirian blinks, puzzled. Shouldn't he be happy?
"Don't be cruel, Erlian," Mama says from the bed. "Bring my son to me. He should see his sister."
"You heard Her Highness," Nana says, carrying Tirian over to the bed. She sets him down next to Mama, who's holding a swaddled bundle in one arm.
"Mama, are you all right?" Tirian asks, reaching out with one hand to wipe the tears away from her wan face. "You're crying."
She smiles weakly at him and reaches up to push some of his hair out of his eyes. "Baby, this is your sister Eveline. Say hello."
"Hullo, Eveline," Tirian parrots. He leans over his mother and says, "She's got black hair like Papa." She's tiny, so tiny, with a faint bluish tinge to her skin. "Does she like stories, Mama?"
"I'm sure she does," Mama says, smiling at him. "Why don't you sit down and tell us one?" She pats the bed beside her and Tirian sits down, putting his head against her shoulder.
"There's nothing else we can do?" Papa murmurs to the docctor.
"Pray to the Queen of Morning," replies the doctor. "I'm very sorry, your highness."
Tirian looks up to see his father nod, his face grim. "Can I be alone with my family?" he asks Grandda.
King Gerion nods and quietly herds everyone out of the room. Papa comes around the edge of the bed and sits down on Mama's other side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He smiles down at Eveline. "Tell the story, Tirian," he says.
"What story?" Tirian asks. He knows a lot of stories.
"What about Queen Lucy and the Laughing Knight?" Mama asks.
"Al right," Tirian says, and clears his throat. "Once upon a time, during the Golden Age of Narnia, a messenger came to the great castle of Cair Paravel on the sea..."
He talks for a long time, until his throat is dry and his voice raspy. When he stops to look over at his parents, it's to see that Mama's fallen asleep and Papa's crying silently.
"Papa, what's wrong?" he asks.
Papa leans over and takes Eveline from Mama, putting her in Tirian's arms. "Why don't you go with Nana and finish telling your sister the story, Tirian," he says, his voice choked.
"Papa?" Tirian asks, taking Evleine. She's warm, but there's something odd about her breathing, something rattling.
"Take your sister and go to Nana," Papa says, bending over Mama, and while Tirian's going out the door, he hears his father say, "Oh, Siusiana, Siusiana, I'm so sorry."
"Come on, baby," Queen Altagracia says, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Let's go take care of your sister."
*
"What are you doing with all these dusty old books, Tirian?" Vespasian asks, sneezing. "I think this is where books to go die."
"Not a book," Tirian says excitedly, sorting quickly through the dangling tags on the scroll rack. He finds the one he wants and drags it down, the leather smooth and old against his palm. Vespasian follows him over to the big scarred table in the back, smiling bemusedly before he sneezes again.
"Why aren't you sneezing?" he asks, holding down the edge fo the thin paper as Tirian begins to unroll the scrolls. He reaches one-handed for the box at the corner of the table, picking up the water-polished river stones there to keep the papers in place.
"I practically live down here, remember?" Tirian says, spreading out layer after layer of paper on top of each other. "I'm immune."
Vespasian looks down at the overlying criss-cross of lines. "Are these the castle plans?" he asks, sounding curious. "I thought they'd been destroyed."
"Florian the Faithful destroyed most of them but not all of them," Tirian says, grinning at him. "These are Rilian's original plans, see?" He points at the scrawled signature in the corner. "The one set Cadrian Halfhand saved and hid until Florian was dead."
"all right, I'm impressed," Vespasian allows, smling back at him. "What else do you have?"
Tirian points again. "Look at these," he says, trying to sound as stately as Lord Galiar when he comes to speak to Tirian's father about some grand plan or another he has for the castle or the city or the country. "See this?"
Vespasian comes around the edge fo the table to stand next to Tirian and look down obediently. "It's a hallway," he says.
"No, it's not!" Tirian exclaims, forgetting Lord Galiar for a moment. "I mean, it is, but it's not, it doesn't really exist. I went and looked and there's nothing there but a wall."
"So Rilian changed the plans, what of it --"
"No, he didn't," Tirian insists. "King Rilian spent his whole life -- well, ten years -- working on Cair Paravel, and after everything had been built and he was on his deathbed he destroyed all but two copies of his plans, the official one and the final one. Everyone knows that."
Vespasian puts his forearms on the table and leans forward, turning his head to look up at Tirian. "Well, I know that," he says. "i don't know about everyone, though."
Tirian ignores him. "These are all the doors and hallways on this set of plans that aren't Cadrian's and Degueli's, and I know about some of them, so I now they're real. Like the room beneath the throne room. So the rest of them must be real too."
"What," Vespasian says, looking interested, "like that old story about King Rilian trying to find his way back to the underland by tunneling beneath the castle? I thought he never got that far."
"That's what everyone thinks," Tirian says, his grin so wide that it feels like it's splitting his face, "but it's not true. Look!" He brandishes the very last sheet of paper in the scroll case and lays it down over all the rest, where the lines all overlap and intersect and sometimes appear out of nowhere. Most of it's familiar. This isn't.
Vespasian leans forward eagerly, murmuring, "Spring and Summer," under his breath. He moves a finger across the fragile paper. "Tirian, do you know what this is? Here are the treasuries, and the dungeons, and the store rooms, and the room beneath the throne room, but this, the rest of this, I don't know what it is."
Tirian bounces up and down on the balls of his feet. "It's what Rilian did," he blurts out. "It's what Florian the Faithful didn't want anyone to see. Because Florian said in his diaries that his father hated sunlight but he couldn't let anyone know, and he wanted to destroy all traces of that so no one would ever, ever know that Rilian hated overworld and dreamed of going back down to the underworld only Cadrian Halfhand and Degueli the Black thought he couldn't make that decision --"
"I know the story," Vespasian interrupts. He grins at Tirian a little indulgently. "All right, there's an entrance here beneath the library, or at least it looks like it. Why don't we go see if there's actually anything down there?"
"All right!" Tirian exclaimms, and makes to grab the plans before Vespasian's hand closes around his wrist.
"Let's make a copy," he says. "Because I'd rather not get lost and I'd really like to avoid risking Tycho's wrath by not risking the originals."
"Tycho likes me," Tirian says indignantly.
"Tycho likes you because you're the only one in the castle who shows any interest in his precious books," Vespasian says. "He won't like you anymore if you lose a priceless relic, crown prince or not."
That still sounds odd, but Tirian frowns and lets that be in favor of protesting, "But I wouldn't lose it!"
"But I might," Vespasian says firmly, "and you don't want Tycho mad at me, do you?"
"No," Tirian allows. The Head Librarian is scary when he's angry.
Vespasian tousles his hair. "That's my boy," he says. "Now let's get some paper and make a copy."
Characters:
King Gerion of Narnia (Grandda)
Queen Altagracia of Narnia (Nana)
Prince Erlian of Narnia (Papa)
Princess Siusiana of Narnia (Mama)
Prince Tirian of Narnia
Princess Eveline of Narnia
Vespasian of Glasswater
It's still dark out when Tirian's Nana gets him up, gathering him up in her arms. She's wearing none of her usual court splendor, just an old, soft dress and one of her robes. This one is a dark, purplish blue, with bright sparks speckled upon it in familiar patterns, like the night sky Tirian's mother shows him out the castle windows.
"Come on, love," Nana says. "Let's go see your mother and your new sister."
"I have a sister?" Tirian says excitedly, raising his head from her shoulder.
"Yes, you do," says Nana. "She's very pretty."
"What's her name?" he asks. "Does she like stories?"
"Her name is Eveline," Nana says. "And I'm sure she does."
The guards at the doors of Tirian's parents' bedroom snap to attention as they go inside. The room's crowded -- Tirian's father and his grandfather, his uncles and aunts, and the doctor and his mother's ladies-in-waiting.
"Look who's here to see his new sister," Nana announces.
"Mother, are you sure --" Papa begins.
Tirian cranes his head around to look at his father. Prince Erlian looks tired and strained, his face pale. Tirian blinks, puzzled. Shouldn't he be happy?
"Don't be cruel, Erlian," Mama says from the bed. "Bring my son to me. He should see his sister."
"You heard Her Highness," Nana says, carrying Tirian over to the bed. She sets him down next to Mama, who's holding a swaddled bundle in one arm.
"Mama, are you all right?" Tirian asks, reaching out with one hand to wipe the tears away from her wan face. "You're crying."
She smiles weakly at him and reaches up to push some of his hair out of his eyes. "Baby, this is your sister Eveline. Say hello."
"Hullo, Eveline," Tirian parrots. He leans over his mother and says, "She's got black hair like Papa." She's tiny, so tiny, with a faint bluish tinge to her skin. "Does she like stories, Mama?"
"I'm sure she does," Mama says, smiling at him. "Why don't you sit down and tell us one?" She pats the bed beside her and Tirian sits down, putting his head against her shoulder.
"There's nothing else we can do?" Papa murmurs to the docctor.
"Pray to the Queen of Morning," replies the doctor. "I'm very sorry, your highness."
Tirian looks up to see his father nod, his face grim. "Can I be alone with my family?" he asks Grandda.
King Gerion nods and quietly herds everyone out of the room. Papa comes around the edge of the bed and sits down on Mama's other side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He smiles down at Eveline. "Tell the story, Tirian," he says.
"What story?" Tirian asks. He knows a lot of stories.
"What about Queen Lucy and the Laughing Knight?" Mama asks.
"Al right," Tirian says, and clears his throat. "Once upon a time, during the Golden Age of Narnia, a messenger came to the great castle of Cair Paravel on the sea..."
He talks for a long time, until his throat is dry and his voice raspy. When he stops to look over at his parents, it's to see that Mama's fallen asleep and Papa's crying silently.
"Papa, what's wrong?" he asks.
Papa leans over and takes Eveline from Mama, putting her in Tirian's arms. "Why don't you go with Nana and finish telling your sister the story, Tirian," he says, his voice choked.
"Papa?" Tirian asks, taking Evleine. She's warm, but there's something odd about her breathing, something rattling.
"Take your sister and go to Nana," Papa says, bending over Mama, and while Tirian's going out the door, he hears his father say, "Oh, Siusiana, Siusiana, I'm so sorry."
"Come on, baby," Queen Altagracia says, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Let's go take care of your sister."
*
"What are you doing with all these dusty old books, Tirian?" Vespasian asks, sneezing. "I think this is where books to go die."
"Not a book," Tirian says excitedly, sorting quickly through the dangling tags on the scroll rack. He finds the one he wants and drags it down, the leather smooth and old against his palm. Vespasian follows him over to the big scarred table in the back, smiling bemusedly before he sneezes again.
"Why aren't you sneezing?" he asks, holding down the edge fo the thin paper as Tirian begins to unroll the scrolls. He reaches one-handed for the box at the corner of the table, picking up the water-polished river stones there to keep the papers in place.
"I practically live down here, remember?" Tirian says, spreading out layer after layer of paper on top of each other. "I'm immune."
Vespasian looks down at the overlying criss-cross of lines. "Are these the castle plans?" he asks, sounding curious. "I thought they'd been destroyed."
"Florian the Faithful destroyed most of them but not all of them," Tirian says, grinning at him. "These are Rilian's original plans, see?" He points at the scrawled signature in the corner. "The one set Cadrian Halfhand saved and hid until Florian was dead."
"all right, I'm impressed," Vespasian allows, smling back at him. "What else do you have?"
Tirian points again. "Look at these," he says, trying to sound as stately as Lord Galiar when he comes to speak to Tirian's father about some grand plan or another he has for the castle or the city or the country. "See this?"
Vespasian comes around the edge fo the table to stand next to Tirian and look down obediently. "It's a hallway," he says.
"No, it's not!" Tirian exclaims, forgetting Lord Galiar for a moment. "I mean, it is, but it's not, it doesn't really exist. I went and looked and there's nothing there but a wall."
"So Rilian changed the plans, what of it --"
"No, he didn't," Tirian insists. "King Rilian spent his whole life -- well, ten years -- working on Cair Paravel, and after everything had been built and he was on his deathbed he destroyed all but two copies of his plans, the official one and the final one. Everyone knows that."
Vespasian puts his forearms on the table and leans forward, turning his head to look up at Tirian. "Well, I know that," he says. "i don't know about everyone, though."
Tirian ignores him. "These are all the doors and hallways on this set of plans that aren't Cadrian's and Degueli's, and I know about some of them, so I now they're real. Like the room beneath the throne room. So the rest of them must be real too."
"What," Vespasian says, looking interested, "like that old story about King Rilian trying to find his way back to the underland by tunneling beneath the castle? I thought he never got that far."
"That's what everyone thinks," Tirian says, his grin so wide that it feels like it's splitting his face, "but it's not true. Look!" He brandishes the very last sheet of paper in the scroll case and lays it down over all the rest, where the lines all overlap and intersect and sometimes appear out of nowhere. Most of it's familiar. This isn't.
Vespasian leans forward eagerly, murmuring, "Spring and Summer," under his breath. He moves a finger across the fragile paper. "Tirian, do you know what this is? Here are the treasuries, and the dungeons, and the store rooms, and the room beneath the throne room, but this, the rest of this, I don't know what it is."
Tirian bounces up and down on the balls of his feet. "It's what Rilian did," he blurts out. "It's what Florian the Faithful didn't want anyone to see. Because Florian said in his diaries that his father hated sunlight but he couldn't let anyone know, and he wanted to destroy all traces of that so no one would ever, ever know that Rilian hated overworld and dreamed of going back down to the underworld only Cadrian Halfhand and Degueli the Black thought he couldn't make that decision --"
"I know the story," Vespasian interrupts. He grins at Tirian a little indulgently. "All right, there's an entrance here beneath the library, or at least it looks like it. Why don't we go see if there's actually anything down there?"
"All right!" Tirian exclaimms, and makes to grab the plans before Vespasian's hand closes around his wrist.
"Let's make a copy," he says. "Because I'd rather not get lost and I'd really like to avoid risking Tycho's wrath by not risking the originals."
"Tycho likes me," Tirian says indignantly.
"Tycho likes you because you're the only one in the castle who shows any interest in his precious books," Vespasian says. "He won't like you anymore if you lose a priceless relic, crown prince or not."
That still sounds odd, but Tirian frowns and lets that be in favor of protesting, "But I wouldn't lose it!"
"But I might," Vespasian says firmly, "and you don't want Tycho mad at me, do you?"
"No," Tirian allows. The Head Librarian is scary when he's angry.
Vespasian tousles his hair. "That's my boy," he says. "Now let's get some paper and make a copy."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-19 11:27 pm (UTC)Story Two: it makes so much sense that Rilian would be an agoraphobic escurophile! (I totally made that word up, I have no idea what the "real" term is, sorry.)
"find shte" = "finds the" Am I correct?
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-19 11:40 pm (UTC)Rilian was such a headcase. No one in his family was amused at all, and everyone went to great lengths to cover the more absurd of his oddities up because seriously, the state Narnia was in at the time? The last thing they needed.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 12:58 am (UTC)Definitely fucked up. PTSD, survivor's guilt, brainwashing, Stockholm syndrome...did I miss anything?
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 02:06 am (UTC)Rilian is fucked up. I mean, on the one hand, poor bastard, and then on the other hand...
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 12:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 12:10 am (UTC)Rilian did a number of things, and no one's entirely sure why he did some of them. What he did do was tunnel beneath the ground -- some accounts say that he rebuilt the castle upside within the cliff-face, but no one's entirely sure.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 05:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 07:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 07:45 pm (UTC)I love Tirian and his books. And Tirian and Vespasian.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 07:51 pm (UTC)Tirian. Such a nerd. And Vespasian's surprisingly good natured for always having his younger cousin dumped on him.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 10:23 pm (UTC)Hooray for the bookworms! (And how much more impressive it makes it that he has survived this far)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 10:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 10:56 pm (UTC)Might make things more peaceful on the home front too, if they don't go 'round pissing off the neighbors. Excepting present circumstances, obviously :) It's just I can relate to Tirian more than the regular Haack Und Slasche brand of hero.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-20 11:11 pm (UTC)Oh, they probably think of the High King Peter as a barbarian.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-23 02:57 pm (UTC)