called_lioness | (no subject)

(no subject)

She's bored.

She's groomed Corella, and she's practiced her archery, and she's had hot chocolate, and now she's sitting in a tree and dangling her legs and considering dropping things--tiny things, mind you, like twigs, non-inclined-to-injure things--on people should they pass by.

So. Bored.

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"Well, boys are stupid in general," Lucy says knowledgably.

"Most of them," Mary says, thoughtfully, after a pause.

"Dickon is not. Dickon knows things. And Duo is only sometimes."

"How old is Dickon?" Lucy asks, thoughtfully.

"He is older than me."

(Because the most important thing about him is, clearly, how he relates to Mary.)

"Twelve, I think."

Lucy nods, solemnly.

"He isn't old enough to be stupid yet, then. Some of them aren't that young."

...She thinks Peter was, but that's a brother, they're talented.

With confidence: "I do not think that Dickon will ever be stupid. Except only when he is being too good for his own good; but that is a different kind of being stupid."

A considering pause.

"- Duo is stupid like that too. It is much too common."

"You like him," Lucy says, very wisely, and nodding.

"Yes. Yes, it is," she agrees, and then scowls a bit.

A little startled: "He is my friend."

And that's all that there is to it, really.

"Good," Lucy says cheerfully and munches chocolate herself. "I gathered that, you know. It's why I said you like him."

"Yes," Mary agrees - cheerful enough herself.

"He was one of my first friends. It was him and the robin. And then Ace and Duo and Archid here."

"More than a few friends," she observes.

"And most of them aren't stupid, I hope?"

"They are mostly all stupid sometimes."

Mary apparently accepts this with equanimity.

"That is why it is a good thing I am around."

"So they've you to protect them?" she laughs.

But not in disbelief!

And she offers another piece of chocolate Mary's way, if she'd like it.

"I am sensible," Mary informs Lucy, solemn eyes round in her pointed face.

. . . well, she's not going to turn down more chocolate. Though eventually she'll get full.

"Even if I am contrary."

"You are indeed," she says, and grins, and means both. "And it's adorable."

Mary gives her a look.

A look that says: 'I am fond of you, but you are crazy.'

"Contrary," she says, patiently, "is not adorable. Adorable is pretty and sweet and good."

"Adorable," she declares firmly and reaches over to muss Mary's hair. "Queen, you know. I get to decide it."

That gets a rather startled glance.

"- you never said," Mary says, rather accusingly, "that you were a Queen."

She blinks, a bit.

"No? I'm sorry, Mary. I thought I had."

"Queen of what?"

It's an important question.

"Oh..." She sighs, and it's a little bit like a song or a poem as she says, "Lucy the Valiant, Queen of Narnia, Empress of the Lone Islands, Chatelaine of Cair Paravel, Lady of Galma...it goes on, but it's rather horribly long."

"Being an Empress," Mary says, rather severely, "is more important than being a Queen."

If you're going to be regal, you ought to at least know the order.

"Yes, but it requires much more paperwork, too," she informs Mary matter-of-factly.

LETTERS. ENDLESS. LETTERS.

"Besides, I told you about it just now."

"I have known you ages and ages," Mary complains, kicking the trunk of the tree with a swinging foot.

"It is an important thing to know! And you did not say."

"Well, you didn't ask!"

...Obviously, this is a valid argument, and Lucy kicks the tree herself.

"It's not that important!"