cribellate | narnia au;

"Lovely," she says, walking backwards a little. The forest is green, and vibrant, the flowers blooming as they pass. Lucy knows it's for her, a display to make her smile, and she does. "Everything has become so boring, lately, and stirring up the High King would do wonders for all of us," she says, with a wrinkle of her nose.

But that said-

"What did you come to Narnia to find, sir?"

"You're quite the little minx, to think to bother a king so and not face the consequences." But even as he says it, it's plain that Magnus approves. And he's more than happy to face any consequences with her. He gets the feeling that, being with Lucy, things cannot possibly that bad.

He hesitates at the question. He doesn't know enough about Narnia to fabricate a neat little lie. So he admits the truth.

"I don't know," he says. "What is there to find?"

She laughs. "Well, then we will have to not get caught, will we not?" she says, turning a pretty circle. Her skirts spin around her calves, and there is something wildly carefree about it.

And she makes a little noise. Hm. "Well. You can find almost anything your heart desires, if you know how to look. Adventure, or romance, or simply a place for your soul to settle."

She's easy to be with, easy to admire. It's easy to fall into a trap of wanting to please her, to make that seemingly ever-present smile brighten just for him. She's dangerous.

But his heart is heavy. It's tired and worn.

He can play, but he can't fall in love again.

"What about all three? Where do I start? Beyond this party."

She laughs a little. "Well, you may be my guest, and I will show you everything," she says, taking his hand and her smile brightens.

And she will.

She takes him to Cair Paravel and has one of her friends take him to get ready, but she doesn't tell him who she is; maybe she's being mischievous on purpose, or maybe she wants to see his face when she's announced, but she doesn't know exactly what it is.

That is why when the party begins, when everyone is announced and she comes down the stairs almost last in a dress made of gold cloth, she manages to not look for him right away. But as the party goes on, she finds her way to the dance floor, and she finds him in a center by himself. "Sir," she says, giggling, "have you been asked for a dance by every girl in the party?"

Devious little girl. Little queen, in fact. Magnus accepts the news with barely a shift in expression, though he has a few words planned for her when finally she gets around to seeing him. He knows how it is for royalty; he would never presume, even with how friendly and easy-going she has been before.

"Nearly. And I hoped every young man as well. Your brothers cut fine figures." He's teasing -- about wanting to dance with them, not about the figures. His eyes are plainly only for Lucy at the moment.

He dips into a low bow and offers his hand with a flourish.

"But I believe it's you that I was to scandalize with."

"Well," she says, laughing, and taking his hand with a slightest of curtsies, "if you wish to dance with either of my brothers, I would suggest Edmund," she says.

She looks over to where her brother is flirting with someone. "He is the finer dancer. Peter would step on your feet."

She comes in closer, now. "But I would be most pleased to accept this dance."

"Ah, but I have a fondness for blue eyes," he points out. It's a painful reminder of Alec, to be honest, but it's the truth and it works for this tease. Edmund has the darkest complexion of all the royal siblings, but Lucy's eyes are bright and blue and wonderful.

He sets his hand politely at her waist, drawing her in closer to him. He's a fine dancer himself, well-practiced in a way that makes ladies -- and men -- swoon. He doesn't put on all the charm, not quite, but he holds her comfortably. They're meant to start a scandal, after all.

"Well, then you should just stay with me," she says, and laughs a little.

They're dancing, and it's comfortable; they're beautiful together. People are already starting to chatter, about the handsome stranger and their pretty queen, about the way that their queen is twirling in his arms like they were born to be together.

When the dance ends she rises up on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. "My lord," she says, giggling. "You are dangerous."

"I?" Magnus counters with a smirk. His heart feels light and for a moment he thinks that... not that he's happy, but that some of the shadows that weigh upon him, that he hides so well, have dissipated a little. Maybe it's simply the environment; maybe it's Lucy. Either way, he doesn't quite want it to stop.

"This was your idea, darling. I'm simply your plaything, like the rest of them."

"I would never call you a plaything!" she says, giggling. "A new friend. A new person to be mischievous with. But not a plaything," she tells him, putting her arms over his shoulders. "A handsome stranger to introduce to court. I am sure in a moment or two, some pretty creature will come by and take all your attention from me, but I shall be happier for knowing for this moment, I am yours."

"Not likely," Magnus says with a playful grin. His hands are still on her hips, a polite position, left over from their dancing. He's still close, like they're conspiring.

"I still need to be introduced to your siblings, don't I? You have me for the rest of the evening, as you wish. Your Majesty."

"You wish to meet them?" she asks, giggling, and she nudges him up to Peter, first, and then Edmund comes by, and she's introducing them, and it's all small talk. None of it is very deep, but Lucy is keeping her eyes on Magnus, bright and cheery.

Peter seems to be more amused by this than anything, and he grabs Lucy. No trouble, he tells her, and she laughs, and he kisses her on the forehead. Watching them, it's so clear that this family is very close, and untroubled. She hops back to Magnus' arm.

"So now you know my terrible secret."

Magnus does wish to meet them, if only to learn what might get under their skin later. Lucy seems the trickster, but well loved despite it, or for it. So coming up with ideas to plague her brothers seems a good idea, and fun at that.

"Ah, yes, terrible," he says with a smirk. "Golden child, youngest daughter, beloved by family and subjects alike. You are made up of awful things, aren't you?"

"I am," she says, laughing, "an impossible child. Sunny beyond belief. And an endless source of exasperation," she adds. "Ask anyone. Ask my brothers," she says, but she's tugging at Magnus' hands.

He is safe here. She is safe with him. Visitors do not come to Narnia if they would harm the queen. "And so now I must learn something about you."

He's not used to this kind of attention. Alec wasn't one for public displays of affection, except when the moment called for it. (There were a lot of close calls, after all, and one can be expected to hug/hold/kiss one's boyfriend/husband in those moments.) But here he is being tugged along by a bright and shining girl and he feels old and rusty for it, in the moment.

"What would you have of me?" he asks. "Ask any question, and I might just answer."

She considers him. "I would ask a great deal of you," she says, her nose wrinkling up a little. "But I think I will start small," she tells him, and spins him. "You can come here, however, to make mischief with me. What could I do for you?"

He spins and tries not to feel it in any part of his body, other than an ever so slight dizziness.

Magnus pauses with his bottom lip between his teeth, his hands settling politely above her hips.

"Another dance," he says. "You haven't any foreign dignitaries around that expect something of you, do you? We could refuse them and dance together all night."

She comes in close to him, so they're almost scandalously close - another inch and the rumors would reach Calormen tonight - and she smiles, her hands on his shoulders. "Of course," she says. "I always have ambassadors and princes and diplomats from across the world after me."

She lets him tip them into the dance floor. "Tonight my eyes are only for you. Let them wonder who is this mysterious man."

"I can see why," he says in a low voice, just for her. It's the truth, even if it is a touch flirtatious. She's captivating, easy to get lost in, and any one would be happy to be in her presence, scandal or no.

He's grateful for it now. Because it's every distraction he's needed over these past several months that he's ever needed.

They dance through the night. Every time they pause, for drink or a breath, which is infrequent, someone tries to approach. But Magnus is quick to pull her away, act a touch possessively, and when he's not quick enough, she politely but laughingly declines.

The night draws on. People start to leave. The musicians play their final notes and Lucy and Magnus are still left on the dance floor.

He doesn't stop dancing, but hums a soft rendition of Beyonce's "Halo" as he leads her.

She could ask them to keep playing, but she won't. There is something comforting about this, about being the last; Edmund, even, has found his way back to his room. It is deeply late, and they keep dancing.

She doesn't recognize the song, but she is just tired enough that she presses her head against his chest, then, a scandalous embrace for the beginning of the night but at the end of it easily excused with tiredness and lack of witnesses.

"You are an excellent person to have beside me on a night like this one," she tells him, pleased beyond measure.

"Mm, is that because I enchanted your shoes to be more comfortable after song eight?" Not that Magnus was counting. But at a certain point, he had wanted to make sure that Lucy had no excuse to stop dancing, period.

Not that he's sure it was necessary. There's such deep magic here, in everything. He wouldn't be surprised if the very stones in the hall wouldn't have softened themselves beneath her feet if she asked them to.

She looks up at him, her eyebrows going straight up, and the surprise on her face is crystalline; she didn't expect that. "Did you really?" she asks, her smile wide and her laugh coming from the very pit of her belly, taking up every part of her.

"Why, I thought it was magic, but I thought it was the kind of magic that came from dancing with a handsome man, where you forget your discomforts!" she announces, and she pitches forward to kiss him. This time it is right at the corner of his mouth, a sweet sort of invitation for more.

He's smiling broadly now, delighted by her delight, so the kiss catches more of his lips than perhaps she even intended. Definitely more than he wants, however.

The smile doesn't fade exactly, but freezes, and he stills. Obviously he's uncomfortable, but obviously too he's trying to hide it, trying to move on, trying not to make her uncomfortable.

He turns his head away.

"Even a man as handsome as me has to cheat a little sometimes," he says, trying to play it off. "We were having fun and I wanted to keep it that way."

She knows, then.

His heart belongs to someone else. Well. That is just fine, for Lucy; she is not one to be bothered by that, and she knows she is the one who overstepped. Her smile softens, and it's still warm. "Yes," she agrees, carefully. "It should just be fun, and nothing more," she tells him.

narnia au;

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