The Early Days

Susan lifted her skirts to climb the old, spiralling staircase, as she listened as intently as she could to the eager chatter of Mrs. Beaver, who had been delighted to be asked about what she dubbed "home-making" - Susan liked the sound of that, it at least sounded a whole lot more romantic than "house-keeping" - and was eagerly dispatching advice.

"You musn't try to do everything, Queen Susan, dear, for this is a big castle and you would wear yourself out immediately. Now, what I suggest is making up a few teams, one for cleaning, and one for scouting out possible dangerous areas, and one for repairing those areas. You should probably stay somewhere they will all be able to find you, for rest assured they will have plenty of questions - what is this, what is that, may we throw these away, you know - so you should be in a good place for receiving such requests... ah!"

Susan blinked, a little startled. They had emerged into an old room, all made of wood, the walls a plain white. It looked at first glance to be some sort of attic, but there were large glass windows, a little dusty, but no less magnificent for that, that let the sun in and bathed the whole room in light. In the middle of the room was a large oak table, with an elegant, cushioned chair, that Mrs. Beaver had evidently found somewhere.

"This is lovely, Mrs. Beaver! Thank you so much," and she settled herself with a smile, before turning to the eager Animals who'd followed her here. They were mostly mothers and older daughters, for the children had been set to work "cleaning" the courtyard after one accident too many, and the male small creatures were now mostly working as messengers.

"Now, we will need three teams..."


"...And so, my queen, we quite honestly couldn't decide amongst ourselves, we're terribly sorry for wasting your time like this, but we were so afraid of throwing something of value away..."

With an effort, Susan pulled her gaze away from the window and to the anxious-looking team of four before her. "Don't worry," she plastered as gracious a smile as she could muster onto her face. "Thank you for asking. Now, I think you should just keep those figurines to one side, where they won't bother you, but be careful not to break them."

"But it's a very small room, lady, do you think there's somewhere else to put them?"

Pushing an impending headache firmly away, Susan tried to think. "I'm so sorry, but remind me again, where is this room?"

"In the East Wing, my lady, on the second level."

"I see. There should be a nearby storeroom, should there not?" She fervently hoped there was, for the map outline of that Wing had slipped her mind long ago, and she was now relying on desperate guesses.

"Yes, my lady, I believe there is. Thank you, my queen."

She summoned a weak smile as they turned and left, and turned to the next group. "Yes?"

"Good afternoon, my queen, we come from the second state room in the West Wing, but we think there was an accident at some point, there are boards down and the ceiling seems to have caved in by quite a bit..."

"Have you checked with the room above this state room?"

"Nay, we were unsure of where to go."

Susan drew a deep breath. And stood up.

"I shall come with you to have a look at this," she announced calmly, trying to look as if she knew exactly what she was doing, for she was sure she would go mad if she had to stay in that room and listen to any more questions about places and things she had never seen in her life! Surely, a queen should know her castle?

"I am sorry," she continued, turning to the rest of the milling crowd, "I am called away on an... extremely important matter. Rhea," she turned to the gentle Sheep standing stoically at the door, "would you please fetch Mrs. Beaver and my sister? They will answer the rest of your questions. My apologies, ladies." Lucy would probably brandish her knife at her later for subjecting her to this room and all the requests that came with it, but she couldn't quite find it in her heart to bother now. She wanted to explore, to see, to get to know this place she would be ruling over, not stay stuck in a small room attempting to pretend she knew the answers to such questions!

They were threading through rather precarious looking stacks of chairs now, and she frowned at the sheer amount of dust - she just wanted to take a rag and wipe it off, but judging by the reactions of her subjects when she tried to help with a bit of sweeping, queens weren't supposed to do housework. She sighed, a little dejected despite herself, for the magic of renewal and release had worn off, and now... Now, well, they had to clean up a castle, and then a country, and with a people who refused to let their sovereigns do the slightest bit of work!

Aslan said have patience, she reminded herself firmly, and be strong. Try to understand them, love them, teach them, learn from them. Well, she could do that, as long as they would let her do something!

Ah, they had reached the room. She could see what they meant - the ceiling was sagging ominously, and there were a few stray planks lying around, clearly an attempt to board up the area. Pursing her lips, Susan walked closer, stopping immediately when something creaked, and peered at the ceiling. Above her she could hear voices, apparently oblivious to what was happening below. Yes, it was caving in, and - soon!

She spun and flew out of the room suddenly, ignoring the gasps of the Chipmunks who'd lead her here. Where was the stairs? To the right, to the right... yes, and she rushed up, throwing dignity to the winds, all her heart suddenly focused on one thing. That room was dangerous, and whoever was in there -

"Come out!" She flung the door open and looked in. Two Foxes and a Lynx looked up, surprised, from the bookshelf they were mending. "The floor below you is dangerous," she urged, "come out! It may cave at any - oh!"

As one Fox - why, he was only a kit! - took an alarmed step, the fragile balance disappeared, and the first floorboard snapped. She caught a glimpse of concrete crumbling to dust and shocked faces, and without a word, without a thought, strode in and shoved the Fox out. Snapping into action, the older Fox nipped at the stunned Lynx and they bounded out, just as the bookshelf began to shudder and the whole floor began to give way.

"Susan!"

And her little sister strode round the corner of the stairway, hands on her hips, gown dishevelled, hair flying out behind her, fixing her older sister with a severe look for about two seconds before she ran over and threw herself into Susan's arms.

"Do not," she ordered in a voice muffled by Susan's dress, "ever go running off to save people without me again. It's dangerous."

Susan's lips trembled, not quite sure what to do, but finally she let herself laugh, seeing as it was much better than crying like a foolish coward. It was just a room, dear heavens, why was she so shaken? "I won't, Lu," she promised. "Or I'll try not to. It's rather hard a promise to keep."

"My queens?"

They turned. The three Animals stood solemnly before them, arrayed in a curve and with serious expressions. The older fox spoke. "We would like to express our utmost gratitude, my lady queen, for your timely warning and valiant efforts in helping us to safety. We -"

"Derlius!" They all turned, to behold a motherly-looking, rather annoyed vixen loped into the now rather crowded corridor. "Oh, my queens! I'm so sorry! He ran off, silly boy, what were you thinking, child? What did the queens say? The repairs could be dangerous, and now see what you've done! My goodness! My queen, my apologies -"

"I didn't mean to!" Now the kit burst into the conversation, all wide eyes and frightened look. "I was just trying to help and I didn't know..."

"I'm terribly sorry, Mistress Linhier!" Now the older Fox interrupted, looking quite upset. "I thought he had permission, I had no idea..."

"Of course you didn't! He didn't tell you! Oh, child! That's why I always say, listen to your elders -"

"Excuse me!" Seeing the miserable expression of the kit, Susan broke in. "Thank you for your intervention, my good Fox, but there is no need. I was glad to be of assistance, and any effort given was given gladly." She straightened. "I am sure we all had the best of intentions, including Derlius," she cast him a kind look. "Now, my little gentleman, I will let your mother teach you a lesson as she sees fit, though please, my lady, he meant well. And you, sir..."

"Redcap," the older fox supplied.

"Master Redcap. I'm sure you meant to harm, but in the future please check if you have comrades who don't quite fit in. You, as well, master Lynx." They looked a little awed, and with a start Susan realised she'd stood straighter, lifting her head almost like... like a queen. She smiled a little awkwardly, not quite sure of what to say, and they all seemed to relax.

"We will, my queen," murmured the Fox and the Lynx. She nodded.

"You may go." She swept her glance to include Derlius and his mother, unable to hide a small smile at the little kit. "Thank you."

There was silence as they filed out, murmuring to each other softly, and Susan stood there, not quite sure what had just happened. Then an exuberant cry sounded from beside her, and Lucy flung her small arms about her sister, laughing. "Su! That was amazing! You handled it wonderfully, and they all melted when you smiled. You looked like a real queen! Oh, not that you don't always. But especially!"

Susan shook her head, meeting Lucy's beaming smile hesitantly. "Not very much, Lu... I think I forgot myself for a while there. But I didn't do much!"

"Oh, Susan. You did, trust your little sister! They were all arguing their heads off, and then you just stepped in and made it right again. Su, it was amazing!"

"Oh." She couldn't think of anything to say now, which wasn't a very good omen for her future as a monarch. And yet.

"I suppose..." A smile lit her face suddenly. "Lu, we won't be queens who sit in rooms and wait for people to come to us while they do all the work, will we? We'll work with them, and for them, and be a part of them..."

"Of course - of course we will!" Lucy's voice was hesitant, but honest. "I wouldn't want a silly queen who sat around not doing anything helpful at all. I shouldn't think the Narnians would want one, either. You can do it, Su, I saw it, back there. I would want a queen like... like you." A little bashful suddenly, but absolutely faithful, and with a sudden laugh Susan hugged Lucy, every bit as tightly as Lucy had hugged her.

"I know, Lu, thank you. But..." She drew back, and looked into her sister's eyes. "For now, my Lu, maybe you are happier as a child than as a Queen?"

Lucy tensed, and looked down. A long silence followed, but Susan waited patiently, her arms still safely around Lucy.

"Maybe," she finally whispered, and for a second Susan saw the raw fear that had overtaken her as she flew up the stairs, convinced her sister was hurt. Too young.

"Lu," she said softly, and drew her sister close. "You can help Narnia just by being you, you know. They need hope like yours now, not just endless work and kings and queens ordering them about. For a while more, little sister, you must be a child, and bring hope to this weary land. Will you?"

"I will," Lucy said, and Susan believed her.


A few notes:

I am planning the story in a structure that will hopefully go something like this: the first four chapters, this being the fourth, being labelled 'The Early Days', before any form of dates or recording was used. After this, the years will be number I, II, III and so forth, and each chapter will cover a season of each year.

Secondly, updates will be quite sporadic, I fear, for life encroaches on fanfic endeavours rather too much for my liking! But thank you so much for all reviewers and readers, you never fail to encourage me. Please feel free to leave any feedback :)