Disclaimer: I own neither Narnia nor the Arthurian legend.

A/N: Actually, it's more than just one knight in King Peter's Court. But I wanted to make the title parallel to that famous "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court" by the illustrious Samuel Clemens (er...Mark Twain). This is the result of hours and hours on a riding lawnmower with dust getting in your brain, so that the thoughts about King Arthur and crew, and the thoughts concerning Narnia got all jumbled up. Which worked out alright, because, regardless of the dust, I love it when these two particular worlds meet.

Anyhow, please enjoy. I hope, if you have not previously been interested in Arthurian legend, this will give you a reason to learn more about it. The following chapters will include Lucy and Gawain, Susan and Lancelot, Edmund and Kay, and (a bonus!) young Corin and Dinadin. Oh, and Peter and Merlin. :) Enjoy.


A Camelot Knight in King Peter's Court

If you'd asked the Pevensies (you know, those mostly quiet English schoolchildren who go to your school, or used to live in your neighborhood) if they'd ever heard of King Arthur or Camelot, you might be surprised. Surprised, I might add, in more ways than just one.

For instance, not only would these children (the eldest boy is hardly thirteen, and he tends to go off in daydreams for hours on end) know exactly of what you spoke (which isn't as much a surprise as the other, for most English schoolchildren know of the most famous of the Kings of England), but suddenly these Pevensie children would be quite indescribably different.

It's hard to explain unless you've seen it (which I have), but their faces light up, all of the faraway looks they have both vanish instantly and then sweep back across their faces during certain parts of the conversation that follows.

But by far, the strangest thing is when they talk about their favorite knights (answering that age-old question) as if they really know the persons involved.

"Gawain," was the youngest's reply, grinning as she twirled a little piece of white-blond hair around her finger thoughtfully. "He's got red hair, you know, and he fought the green knight. And he's got Guingolet and Galatine too."

"Lancelot," was all that Susan would say, although somehow, there was something in the sound of her voice that made you think that it wasn't just because she was going through the phase every schoolgirl goes through of liking Lancelot—and it wasn't because he was tragic and beautiful, either.

"I don't know what all the rot was about Lancelot," Edmund would have said, looking ridiculously gruff and a little sentimental. "Kay was the best—he was the one who stayed home when Arthur was off questing, and he was always loyal. Always."

Peter, however, was the strangest. Because although you'd have thought, from his drawings of knight after knight riding across his essay pages, that he'd have known more about Arthur than his younger siblings. Instead of picking one however, he'd simply shrug and say, "King Arthur himself? I guess." And when told that wasn't one of the possible choices (one was supposed to choose a knight—for who doesn't like Arthur?), he would sigh, rub his head, and say, "I hear Dinadin was a funny chap. But Arthur obviously put up with a lot—getting changed into birds and fish and all."

Yes, the Pevensies were decidedly strange. But, as often is true, there is a story behind every strange thing. And this strange thing is no exception.