Black as Rat and Crow
For the Narnia Fan Fiction Revolution challenge, Color. Rated T because it's just easier that way.
Chapter 1: Pretty Silver Thread That Only A Bird Can See
Chapter 2: Yellow? Or Is It Kavossed?
Chapter 3: Purple Pink Rose, or What Happens In Archenland, Stays In Archenland
Still not King. Still don't own any of this. With gratitude and admiration to the creator of The Chronicles of Narnia, C.S. Lewis. I claim no ownership interest whatsoever in any derivative fiction I write, and never have. Any original content in my derivative fiction is in the public domain and may be used freely and without notice to me or attribution.
Special thanks to Anastigmat, without whom this would not have been posted.
Pretty Silver Thread That Only A Bird Can See
An outtake from By Royal Decree
"It's such a pretty dress," the Crow, Gawayne, said from his perch in an oak tree.
"Not the dress, actually. It's the pretty silver thread in the dress," another Crow, Chayton, corrected. "I'd really like to take some."
"I'm sure she wouldn't miss a thread or four," Sadie said with more authority than, in Harah's opinion, a young Crow should assert. "If I took some, Gawayne, would you trade a thread for that shiny golden rock King Edmund gave you?"
"Three threads, at least before I would make that trade," Gawayne countered.
"Two short ones, at most," Sadie replied, prematurely in Harah's opinion, as the young Crow hen had not yet accomplished the theft. Counting eggs before they hatched and all that.
Harah flapped her wings, irritated at the bargaining. She'd fly back to the Roost for Chief Sallowpad, but she was worried the Crows congregating at the bathing pond would make off with the Lady Morgan's gown altogether while the Lady was swimming. It was a very pretty gown, Harah had to admit.
Poor humans, it was too bad they couldn't see it. The silver thread woven into the gown was very attractive, like a ribbon of silver filigree from the Smithy. She'd never seen the like. Following the way the thread wove in and out of the gown of mossy rich green was fascinating, similar to how light moved in a meadow or a stream. Very distracting…
Harah shook her head and fluffed her feathers, forcing herself to look away from the mesmerizing silver thread. She had a job today and King Edmund had given her a shiny wire for doing it. Of course, what she had really wanted was that knife from the luncheon table and tea tray. Queen Susan wouldn't let her keep it, though. And if Cook found out, Harah thought it likely Cook would embed the shiny knife in Harah's own wing.
Back to business. Crows stealing the Lady Morgan's gown, or the thread in it, was not something Harah could permit. She had had enough training for the Murder of the Narnian Intelligence Service to know that humans were attached to their clothing and while they changed it frequently, they did, usually, have it on. Humans did remove their clothing when they bathed, but washed their clothing separately, which really made no sense at all to a Bird or a Beast. It did not seem efficient at all.
If the Crows made off with her gown, Lady Morgan would have a long walk back to the Palace from the bathing pond in naught but her skin, and that wasn't something Harah had observed humans ever doing. Not such a distance, anyways. Although, on the other wing, there might be screaming, which would be very entertaining for the Crows. Harah considered this and dismissed it. The Lady Morgan had managed to outwit Otters; she wouldn't scream if her gown disappeared. Harah could still hear the Otters swearing in the wood. Filthy they were, those Otters. No, Harah thought that if the Lady Morgan found her gown missing, she'd plot revenge.
It was time to take matters under her own wing. This was her assignment and she was not going to let these young jackanapes interfere.
"You there!" Harah scolded. She flew down from her perch and landed on top of the gown of mossy rich green with pretty silvery thread woven within it. Lady Morgan had set her gown carefully on a rock at the bathing pond's edge and that was where it would stay, unmolested by greedy Crows with an eye for shiny things that did not belong to them. "Get you gone or all have the Chief on you, I will!"
There were protests and squawks, but these young Crows were ambitious sorts and would not want to jeopardize their possibility for advancement in the Murder and the winning of King Edmund Shinys of their own.
The Birds flew off and Harah was pleased with the effectiveness of her threats. Perhaps she might get one of those nice knives from the Palace's silver tea service as a reward after all. The knives were very shiny, and sharp too.
She looked back toward the pond, but the Lady Morgan was still swimming. Cocking her head to the side, Harah admired, again, the silvery thread woven within the gown. Aslan's Mane! It was pretty. So very pretty. It was very like a flashing fish darting through the shallows of a stream, or a piece of fine crystal reflecting candlelight. It caught and held a Bird's eye in a truly marvelous and intricate way.
Harah looked about, but Lady Morgan was well away in the pond, not minding her at all. Since humans could not even see the thread, it was not as if the Lady would even miss it, now would she? Perhaps, just one thread?
Well, maybe two.