Mileva adjusted the over-skirt of her gown nervously, making sure the elegant embroidered designs of the underskirt showed. She was proud of it, the golden flowers contrasting beautifully with the dark blue of the fabric. She nervously traced her finger over the white lace on the overskirt. Her sister, Terella, brushed back her hair and twisted it expertly into an elegant coif, a few loose tendrils of hair tickling her forehead. She always wondered how her elder sister made it looks so easy.
"Are you excited?" Terella asked.
"I'm more terrified; I have no room for excitement!" Mileva replied with a nervous laugh, her curls quivering as her head shook a little.
"Oh, come now Mili! You're just having your engagement announced; what's so bad about that?"
Mileva shook her head at her sister. "You were always the more intrepid of the two of us. This would be nothing to you. You like to talk with people, to have them look at you. I don't!" She trembled at the very thought of everyone's eyes on her. Aslan, save her racing heart...
"Well I'm afraid I cannot help you there, sister," Terella replied simply. "After all, you are the one marrying the High King, not me. And as his future wife and queen, you will be expected to do this quite often."
"I know!" Mileva exclaimed. "But that doesn't mean this is easy! What if I make a fool of myself? What if I trip? What if no one thinks Peter should marry me?"
"You always were the more anxious of the two of us, Mili," Terella said with a small chuckle. Mileva didn't think it was a coincidence her sister phrased her words the same way she had just a moment ago. "Honestly, you'll be fine. You're like a cat, graceful and nothing ever trips you. And if you are your sweet, kind self, I'm sure everyone will love you. And if all his siblings approve of you, why should anyone say contrary?"
"You make it sound so easy," Mileva said. "Why couldn't you do this?"
"Because King Peter fell in love with you, not me. And honestly, if you love him, what else matters?" Mileva grabbed the hand resting on her shoulder, Terella giving it a comforting squeeze.
"Was it difficult with Deris?"
Terella's smile was a little sad. "It wasn't quite the same as what you are going to do, but yes. It was very hard to leave my family, my country, everything I held dear. But I loved him enough, Deris made all the difficulties worth it." She gave a contented sigh. "It sounds so trite and overdone, but love really does make everything bearable. I found the person that I would sail the unknown seas to save, and I know would do the same for me. I think you have found yours in the High King, dear sister." She gave Mileva a knowing look.
She had never thought she would be in this position, even during the years Peter had courted her. All the many times she had pulled away from him, how she doubted she could manage a life like his. He had been so patient, waiting for her to come back, never losing his temper. She had been so full of doubt in herself, so selfish; she had pulled away, never thinking that Peter might not be there the next time.
She wasn't sure if it was the Battle of Blackwater or Lady Tremelaine that had made up her mind. Perhaps she had needed both to finally understand what Peter meant to her and that she would rather take the hardships included with his life, than an easier one without him.
Still, now facing the first of the many challenges she knew would come with being Peter's wife (or betrothed at the moment), her courage was failing. Six weeks ago, agreeing to this ball to announce their betrothal was easy. Now, she was questioning her sanity when she had agreed. Aslan save me.
It wasn't that Mileva hated balls; she enjoyed them, with beautiful gowns she could wear and dancing that was always great fun. It was the idea of being the center (or one of the centers) of attention that had her shaking with nerves. Peter had told her that it was easy enough to get used to, but she wasn't sure. Nineteen years of relative anonymity meant that when she made a mistake (or as her future brother-in-law put it, fouling up royally) it didn't matter much. As Queen, every mistake was up for scrutiny and ridicule, which was something Mileva couldn't stand. She knew she cared too much for the criticisms of others, but that didn't stop their sting.
She hid her face between her hands. "How can I do this?" she whispered through them.
"With all the grace and dignity I know you have," Terella said encouragingly, helping her sister up from the stool. She fixed Mileva's dress to make sure everything was perfect and looped their arms together. "Believe me, sister, if anyone can be a Queen, you can. You may not see it, but I do. I hope it comes to you in time."
They slipped through the heavy wooden door of Mileva's chambers, their skirts rustling together with every step. She tried to calm her breathing. Don't faint, don't faint.
"I would rather not have to drag you to the ball, so if you would be so kind as not to collapse and muss your dress, I would be most appreciative," Terella said dryly. That made Mileva laugh a little, which was probably the desired effect. "If you feel overwhelmed, simply pretend to be sick and you can leave."
Mileva gave a derisive snort (hardly ladylike, but no one was around to criticize yet). "Yes, that would make a positive impression on the court."
"Then don't be overwhelmed! I'll be there all evening and Peter likely won't leave your side. You'll do well, I just know it."
"At least one of us thinks so." Mileva felt her nerves renew as she saw the great oaken doors leading into the Great Hall. Most of the court had assembled inside already, with a few stragglers wandering around outside. A different fluttering in her heart began when she spotted Peter waiting anxiously with his sister, Lucy. She seemed to be giving him some sort of encouragement, perhaps trying to convince him that Mileva wouldn't bolt before the announcement. It had been tempting, but seeing Peter helped harden her resolve. They had gone through too much for her to run now.
"Your Majesty," Terella said as they reached the King and Queen. They both sunk into low curties before Peter bid them to rise.
"I think it hardly necessary for my future wife and her sister to bow to me," he said with a laugh, showing none of his former anxiety.
"Years-old habits are difficult to break," Terella explained.
"And what think you?" Lucy said to Mileva. She could tell by her words and air that this was her becoming Queen Lucy for the occasion, rather than Lucy, Peter's sister. Will I ever be like that? she wondered. Will I ever know when to become Queen Mileva, rather than just the Mileva I have always been? Will I ever slip into the skin so easily as Lucy does? How could I ever hope to compare to Peter's sisters?
"I agree with my sister," she finally stammered out. "Years of training and protocol ingrained in us as it is, they cannot be broken so easily in a few months."
"Well said," Edmund said, walking to join his siblings with the elder sister on his arm. "Peter, I do believe our guests are becoming impatient for our arrival."
"Indeed," he agreed, growing serious. "Terella, I invite you to join my sisters and brother in the Great Hall."
She gave her sister's arm one last squeeze before joining the siblings and looping her arm amiably with Lucy's. Mileva was glad Lucy and Terella got along so well, despite the six year gap between them. The younger Queen seemed to be impossible to dislike, but how the two women had taken to each other surprised even Mileva and Peter.
"I believe Lucy will be more distraught when Terella has to return to The Hinterlands in a year's time than I will," she commented. Peter laughed as he offered his arm and she took it.
"Are you ready?" he asked, growing serious. Mileva understood that he was asking about more than just the ball. He knew how difficult this decision was, how much she was sacrificing for him.
She gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "I am." I won't leave again, I promise to always stay by your side. She knew he heard what she had left unspoken as well.
"Then shall we go in?" he asked. She nodded, nerves closing her throat.
Mileva prayed to Aslan for strength and courage as Peter led her through the doors.
They moved toward the dais, Mileva's grip becoming tighter with each step. Already she was attracting a few glances; few knew of their courting or betrothal and she had rarely been seen in Peter's company in public before. "You're doing well," Peter said, "though I can't feel my fingers at the moment."
"Oh." Her grip loosened a little. "Sorry."
"It's all right." He gave her an encouraging smile.
They reached the platform and turned to face the court. Mileva clasped her hands together to stop their trembling as Peter stepped away from her. The room fell silent as he raised a hand for their attention.
"Ambassadors, dignitaries, friends," he began. "I welcome you all tonight and I thank you for coming. Before we begin the feast, I would like to make an announcement.
"For several years, I have seen friends fall in love, and have been encouraged to find a Queen for myself. I knew if I were to find a wife, she would have to be someone that not only I love, but that Narnia would love as well. I understood that she would have to be a woman of character, one who could stand by my side and rule with my siblings and I. From the beginning I knew few women could fill such a role, but I would accept nothing less for myself and for my people. I prayed to Aslan for his help, and he has answered. I have come forth today, to announce my engagement to Mileva Deliasdaughter."
Just breathe. Yet it seemed like the entire court was holding its breath for a moment. Would they approve of her? Or would she be deemed unworthy? If so, Peter would have no choice but to continue his search. The opinions of his people mattered to him and she respected him for that. Still, Mileva didn't want to consider him loving another woman. That's why you're here, you idiot. That's why you agreed to this engagement.
She let out a relieved breath when the entire court began to clap enthusiastically, some even cheering. She beamed, relief making her giddy and she was not so nervous for a moment. She saw her parents standing to the side of the Hall. While she knew they were happy she would marry very well, she knew they were also pleased she found someone that she loved.
Peter took her hand and brought her to stand by his side and she took his arm. "Should I say something?" she murmured in his ear.
"I think that is a good idea," he said; curses, she had hoped he would say no.
Aslan preserve me, she prayed. Once the cheers had died down, she cleared her throat. Short. Nothing elaborate. Just gratitude. "I..." Aslan, she couldn't do this. But then Peter squeezed her hand and she saw Terella smile encouragingly and she found her voice. "Your acceptance is overwhelming, I thank you all. I have lived in Narnia only a few years, since the Long Winter ended, but I have learned a great many things and I have always wished to serve this country that I consider my home. I know that Queen Susan and Queen Lucy are living embodiments of what a queen should be and I hope I can learn from their example. I hope to be a queen Narnia deserves."
There was a little more applause as she finished her little speech. "That wasn't so difficult, was it?"
She shook her head. "No." In truth, it actually was very hard, but she knew Peter had such high hopes for her and she wanted to show him she was strong, could be strong for him.
"And now let the dance begin!" Peter declared, the court cheering in response. He guided Mileva to the middle of the dance floor, where they opened the first dance. It was a quick, lively tune, which gave her little chance to think about the stares, something she was grateful for.
She danced another dance with Peter before someone else claimed her hand.
"May I?" They both smiled up at the captain of the army.
"I hope to dance at least once more before the night is over," Peter said.
"Just this one dance," Oreius replied. Peter nodded, moving towards his elder sister. Mileva saw him offer his hand to Susan before the dance began and she focused on her partner.
"I am flattered, General Oreius. I know you do not take partners often."
"When the occasion calls for it, I can find myself a willing enough participant."
She smiled. "I never did thank you."
"Thank me? For what?" he asked.
"I was selfish and afraid," she admitted. "I had forgotten to put my trust in Aslan. You reminded me of what I should have focused on, rather than my fears."
"Well, I suppose you're welcome," he said after a moment's pause. "Though I do not recall what I might have done."
"Blackwater," Mileva said. He nodded.
"I see," he said simply. He was not one for small talk and preferred to be concise when he conversed, which Mileva liked.
They concluded the dance in silence, each focusing on the complicated steps. She curtsied as the final notes rang through the air.
Next she danced with her father, then a Faun cartographer. The latter talked incessantly about his maps and the complicated task he was working on. Mileva simply smiled and tried not to yawn. She couldn't make herself be interested; the Faun managed to make it the dullest subject possible.
"Bless you," she said to Peter when he cut in partway through the dance.
"Cartography not as stimulating as you believed?" he said with a chuckle.
"I'm sure that it is fascinating to Brunus, just like your brother enjoys his law tomes. I'm sure if I had more exposure to the subject, I would have found it more interesting." Mileva pressed down a little harder on Peter's shoulder, trying to regain her balance. She had made a misstep and was trying to catch up. He quickly altered his step to match hers, and they eventually returned to follow the other dancers. "Sorry," she apologized. "I know it has been four years, but I'm still trying to adjust from the Archenlander dances."
"I won't bore you with all the times I managed to step on Susan's feet and how often I mixed up the steps. It takes some getting used to," he said. "It took me several years to adjust; you will too."
"I hope so," she said.
They danced in silence for a minute or so, before Peter asked, "Are you happy?" He looked almost apprehensive.
"Yes?" she said, confused, which was why her answer came out more unsure than she felt.
"Not just now," he clarified. "But will you be happy here? With me? Is this what you want?"
Ah, that was what was worrying him. "Peter, I love you. Where you go, I will follow. And if that means that I will be Queen and rule at your side, so be it."
"But is this what you want?" he repeated. "You don't have to do this, you know."
She smiled; he was so wonderful. "Half a year ago, if you had asked me, no this would not have been what I wanted. Yet things have a strange way of turning out. This may be very different from what I'm used to and a journey that is terrifying, but so long as you are with me, I know I can do it. So, yes, this is what I want. It was not what I expected, but that makes my happiness no less complete."
He looked her in the eye as he said, "This life, it will not be easy, but I promise that I will stand with you always." He took her hand and raised it to his lips.
"And I you," she replied.
They didn't notice that the music had ended and some were pointing until someone shouted, "Kiss her, King Peter!"
Mileva broke away from his gaze, a little startled until she looked up and saw a sprig of green and white. "Mistletoe," she said, almost absentmindedly. Then she realized they were under it.
"Should we oblige?" Peter asked.
She smiled even more widely. "Indeed."
Will I continue? Maybe. But there's a lot of stories that I've got on my drive right now. However, if I'm inspired, I'll definitely start the stories that came before and after this. But, sadly, my notebook that had the complete outline explaining all this was lost and after a year, I'm pretty sure I'll never recover it. Thankfully, I at least have some idea of what I planned, so it's not a total loss.
Anyway, hope you all enjoyed!