~Portrait of a Queen~

The painter carefully dipped his brush in the bright gold on his palette. It seemed almost as if he had managed somehow to capture a bit of sunlight in that bright pigment, but such was the quality of Narnian oils. Lightly, he touched his brush to the canvas, glancing around it momentarily to glimpse the fine lady he was capturing a likeness of.

In reality, her eyes held grief and pain, anguish and heartbreak. Her pale skin and beautiful features were marred by the slight downturn of her rosebud lips in sorrow. In his painting, her features held all this, but also an air of mystery, allure, sincerity, and regality that was not in just her eyes but embodied in her entire being.

In reality, she held a simple golden diadem in her lap and the barest outline of a dagger could be seen in a secret pocket of her pale yellow and cream gown's skirt. In the artist's painting, her hands were clasped gently in her lap and no weapons were visible. He knew there had been enough portraits of his fair queen involving weaponry and the arts of warfare or ruling. This was to portray the woman, not her title.

In reality, her long hair was carefully pulled back from her face in the event that she must depart hurriedly to reside over a council meeting of her officers or to take leave of the royal seaside palace for the battlefields in the northwest, just passed Beruna. In his painting, her hair fell down her shoulders and back like a silken cloud of sunlit gold.

In reality, there was a great tapestry behind the monarch; but in his painting there was only shadow, indicating the uncertainty and the approaching darkness in her life.

In reality, her dress was lovingly brocaded and adorned with simple jewels. In his painting, it bore none of this finery. As his patroness had requested of him; he could not deny his queen such a simple request as to paint her as herself and not as a great ruler. He was impressed with such humbleness and kindness.

With a final stroke, he finished what he was sure was his greatest work. Carefully he washed, cleaned, and dried his brushes and palette. Once he had done all this, he turned his attentions to the woman who was staring out with a far-off gaze at the ocean, as if she were somewhere else far from this grand palace.

"My most gracious Queen, I have finished." He uttered the praises to her character because he could not help himself. She and her noble brother had been hardly written of in the history chronicles as the war raged on and worry that Narnia would lose it grew stronger with every passing day. The young monarchs seemed not to mind, but he was troubled by such a lack of concern that their legacy survive to future generations.

"May I look, or do you wish I not until it has dried?" His queen asked with a kind smile, turning her attentions back to him.

"Of course, Highness. It is your portrait, and you may do with it and look at it how you like; I should certainly have no say in the matter." He stood, his hooves making a light patter against the stone floor.

Her eyes sparkling with cheerfulness bravely mustered, she rose from her seat and came round the side of the canvas to peer at his handiwork. She inhaled sharply, lifting a hand to her throat. "Oh, by the Lion you have done wonderfully well with painting me, Kirin. Thank you." she whispered, tilting her head slightly as she examined his work with bright eyes.

"My Queen, I wish every Telmarine saw you as I see you, and as I painted you here. Then they would not be so foolish as to claim you barbaric," he answered, feeling outraged and confounded as to why any stranger could say this of his monarch. They did not know her as he did! If they could only meet her and converse with her, he was certain they would know she was by no means a barbarian!

"My dear, brave Kirin, sometimes when someone wishes to believe something over another, they simply cannot be convinced by anything put before them. It takes a willing mind and a pure heart to try and see goodness in a people you have never met, or in something you do not know. I can't imagine any Telmarine ever trying so hard for Narnia. It causes me much grief to dwell on the nearing future." She passed into silence, looking over to smile sadly at the Faun standing beside her.

"You should know that whatever comes, my Queen, your subjects honor you and your royal brother, and adore you both as much as I do. I pray Aslan come and heal this land soon. Until then, I shall busy myself with painting your portrait, and, hopefully soon, your brother's." He looked at her loyally.

"Your words give me some hope, dear friend. But I cannot promise that the dawn of the night will not bring to light much spilt blood of our countrymen, and the broken banner of Narnia stamped into the dust. I am so tired of fighting against this great evil." With that, she turned and began walking away from him, out the arch and into the halls.

He hurried forward a few steps. "Queen Lilianna– wait, my Queen!" he cried out to her. She whirled slowly, looking back.

"Yes?"

"When your portrait has dried, I wish to frame it and then place it with the family portraits in the underground treasure chamber; does this plan suit?" he asked, feeling slightly hesitant.

"That seems appropriate to me, with invasion being so possibly near; but might I ask why?" She looked expectant, and he knew she deserved an honest answer from him since she had been so honest just minutes passed with her concerns and feelings.

"I fear that there has been some neglect in the recording of you and your royal brother's rule and lives. I worry you will be forgotten in favor of your royal parents and uncle and aunts. It grieves me to think such a thing, but I can no longer withhold my opinion on the matter."

A pained light entered her eyes. "Oh, yes. . . King Lucian requested it be that way. . . Something about war and heirs and the end of an age. I did not understand his meanings, and still don't, but that is the reason behind the lack of recording." She tried to appear unconcerned, but he saw it reflected in her eyes and in her actions. She lightly brushed her hands over the front of her skirts, and then made to leave. He nodded and said nothing more on the matter.

"Why could my King be so careless? He is as important as his noble parents and family. Why should he and his royal sister be stricken from remembrance then? Perhaps I shall always wonder. . . I must converse with Tumnus and talk of at least some small chronicle for them. . ." the artist mused softly to himself, going about the task of putting away all his things.

A/N:

I don't know what inspired this vignette besides the cover art, which I was making with some concept art of Disney's Rapunzel and a frame I found online. It's the same piece of concept art that was one of the things that inspired me to write the first book in my Narnia AU Star Cycle series, Star Crossed, and the only picture I have that resembles my OC, Queen Lilianna, with any accuracy. I own nothing except the OCs, Kirin the Artist and his name, and the idea for this vignette. I don't even own the cover art.

In my AU Narnia this takes place three years after the death of Capt. Tobias, and directly before the death of Queen Lilianna and King Lucian in battle against Telmar. Twelve years later, Caspian the Conqueror invades Narnia.

Thanks for reading and please review,

WH