DISCLAIMER: As previously established I'm not a dead british man so I can't possibly own these characters.
There were times when I thought Calormen the brightest place, most of the time though I just though it was dull. Dull and hot. Tashbaan stood next to the desert and it did not escape from the scorching sun and pestering sand no matter how much its people tried to pretend that life was all about fresh wine and parties at the riverside.
Yes was the word that sealed my fate. I stayed in Tashbaan from then on, even after my brother and the rest of the narnian delegation went back to Cair Paravel. Oh to remember the fresh, white, marble hallways of Cair Paravel. They have great marble hallways in the palaces of the Tisroc as well, but they are only a passing illusion. One look out the window will remind you of the hot barren lands you're in. The hot barren lands to which I willingly chained myself.
Peter had not been pleased to hear of my engagement. He had come down to Tashbaan himself, leaving the northern raids to the hands of lesser generals, to try and talk me out of it. Of course by then it was too late, later even than Edmund's ultimatum.
"Have you decided what to do about this dark-faced lover of yours, Prince Rabadash?"
He'd told me to be prudent and called our mother's memory to aid him. It had not worked. I was much too enamored by Tashbaan's splendor and Rabadash's sickly sweet words. His face. The perfectly chiseled dark features under the serious brow, the eyes I once thought would light up under tender treatment. Love would change that severe expression and I would have the privilege of being the only one to know loving touch and loving gaze from him.
I doubt anyone has ever known anything near of loving from him. Not his concubines if he's as rough with them as he is with me, not his father if the rumors are true, certainly not his advisors whom he kicks and scorns quite freely. My husband loves power and not much else. A weak man he is.
-Don't do this Susan. - Peter had begged me earnestly in the plain English he used when he forgot to be royal. I had turned upon him my most haughty look.
-Dear me, what do you mean by this brother? - I twirled the hem of my heavily ornamented zalmai , having embraced Calormene dress. I was a little embarrassed despite myself.
-I mean to stop my sister from making what I believe to be a mistake. - Peter replied frankly although hurt wheedled its way to his expression. We'd always been close him and I, always taking the big decisions when the little ones could not yet be relied upon. Running a country was not child's business but we did our best.
-How is this a mistake, Peter? Do you expect Lucy and me to stay maidens all our lives?
-No! Just… I did not expect you to give yourself so freely. - Peter's eyes were as deep and impassible as ever. My nostrils flared I expect.
-Freely? Oh, one would think you knew nothing of these things Peter! WE-MUST-MAKE-ALLIANCES. Narnia is too small a country and you know it! As a matter of fact it's high time you and Edmund started worrying about taking your own brides!
Peter had started laughing bitterly.
-Have you forgotten Susan?
-Forgotten what? - I had asked frostily.
-That we are not medieval people, that we once cared for things other than alliances and that we once knew women ought not to be traded like chattel for the benefit of nations. I would've never traded Lucy or you for anything, not even for a blood connection to the most powerful country in these lands. Which ironically is Calormen.
-Nobody's trading me Peter. I'll make whatever decision I think best and unlike you I appreciate the fact that as monarchs of a small country our first and foremost concern should be its protection. Have you thought about what having the Calormen army on our side will do to our trade routes?
-Make a battlefield out what ought not to be one. Fine, sister, do as you see fit. Only remember I did not seek or wish it.
-Don't you at least bless it?- I asked feeling a little scared, Peter looked as if ready to walk out of the room and out of my life.
They had all been there for the wedding ceremony, which lasted forty nights according to the ancient customs. My dress was made of the finest silk from Calavar and the pearls that adorned my hair were brought all the way from Felimath. Perhaps all this made me prettier, I would not know. I only felt sticky and sweaty, my clothes were heavy on my back and thick over my body and the oils and perfumes smeared on my skin had a sweet pungent smell I could not bear. I tried to breathe.
Inexplicably, I thought of the young Archenlandish knight who had once tried to court me as Rabadash and I joined hands under the sight of Tash. I had enjoyed the year in his company quite, but then again I was just seventeen and he was just a knight.
I had looked into my husband's eyes after we were formally bonded and expected to see tenderness if not love. There was feeling in those beautiful black eyes, but it was not tender.
This is a work in progress. Even if you hated it, I would still love to know what you think!