Disclaimer: Fate or Destiny is mine. Narnia is not. Period.
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'FATE OR DESTINY?'
UNEASY
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Isabel walked into the High King's chambers and looked around. Definitely fitting for the High King, she thought.
The engraved ceiling was high and the walls were covered with cream-colored tapestries. Candles flickering on sconces flooded the grand room with warm, golden light. Glass-paneled windows opened to a balcony overlooking the city. The large bed was made of fine mahogany and someone had sprinkled rose petals over the linen sheets. She eyed it in the same way a doomed man eyed the hangman's noose.
The sound of the door shutting behind her caused her to turn, and she found herself face-to-face with her husband. "Um... These are lovely quarters," she mumbled.
"Thank you." Peter replied.
The two of them stood there in silence. Isabel lowered her gaze, suddenly very interested in the fabric of her dress. Every bone, every muscle in her body was tense, awkward. She had been confused numerous times in her life before, but this confusion was by far the worst. She had absolutely no idea what to say or to do.
Mercifully, Peter broke the silence. "Susan wanted me to tell you that your belongings have been moved here, and she has refreshed your clothes, whatever that means." He pointed to a door to the side of the room. "That leads to the wash chambers. The wardrobe is in there as well."
"Thank you," Isabel replied.
"I would like to... freshen up, unless you wish to -"
"That's fine." She said quickly, grasping at a chance of an escape from his presence.
Once Peter disappeared into the wash-chambers and shut the door, Isabel sank onto the chaise by the massive hearth and looked into the fire. His absence meant that she did not have to feel so awkward, even if it was for a short while. It had been a long day, and an even longer week, and she was utterly exhausted. She ran a hand through her hair, wondering if her life would be like this from now on - feeble attempts to escape her husband's presence so she did not have to experience the uneasiness that came when he was nearby. She prayed to Aslan for the opposite. She wasn't sure what the opposite was, but she prayed for it anyway… anything would be better than this.
It wasn't his fault, of course. He had not done anything since their wedding to make her uncomfortable. Granted, he had barely spoken to her, but they had been busy attending to the hundreds of people who wished to speak to them. Husband, she thought, almost in disbelief. She was a married woman now. It was a fact, but it still seemed out of her grasp.
"You seem tired."
Isabel started at the sound of Peter's voice, and looked up to see him standing before her, wearing a night shirt and plain trousers, his blue eyes fixed on her. As expected, a wave of anxiety washed over her. "I am," she replied, shakily jumping to her feet. "I... I will go change my clothes."
Without waiting for a response, she hurried past him and into the wash chambers, shutting the door after her. She leaned against it, her heart pounding. Why did she get all jumpy when she was alone with him? It did not seem to matter this much when he visited her before they had wed. Was that the reason? Was it because they were to share a room and share a life and... She shook her head, forcing her line of thought to stop. Best not let the mind wander.
The wash chambers were as huge as the bedchambers. Isabel looked at the white polished marble and the carvings in the high ceiling, wondering how much hard work must have gone into their construction. She walked over to the huge wooden wardrobes on the other side of the wall. She opened a door, only to find it filled with Peter's clothes. It took her a moment to realise that sharing a room also meant sharing the space for their belongings. Biting her lip, she moved to the other end of the wardrobe.
So that is what Susan meant when she said that she had 'refreshed my entire wardrobe', Isabel thought as she took in the number of gowns, shoes and jewelry in the wardrobe. She decided to thank the Gentle Queen for all this.
A short while later, Isabel stepped back into the bedchambers, dressed in an off-white nightgown. She blinked in surprise when she saw Peter lying on the couch, looking extremely uncomfortable. "My king," she said softly, walking towards him. "What are you doing?"
Peter opened his eyes and looked at Isabel questioningly. "Trying to sleep."
"Yes, I can see that."
"Then why did you ask?" Slight irritation seeped in his voice.
She looked at him oddly. "You do not have to sleep on the couch, my king. I'll sleep here."
"That is out of the question." He said.
"This is no time for you to be chivalrous, Peter."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm the High King of Narnia, and I will do as I please."
She shook her head. "You can't sleep there, you look uncomfortable. You're too tall to even lie here properly."
"Isabel," he sighed, "I am tired. Let me rest. You can have the bed."
Fine, if he wanted to be a hero... With a small shrug, she walked to the bed. Slipping under the warm blankets, she lay on the soft feather mattress and closed her eyes, a small part of her was guiltily glad that she did not have to share a bed with Peter. I can't even imagine how uneasy that would have been...
[][][][][][][]
Caspian stood in one of the many balconies of the castle, staring at the far away mountains. The pale moonlight only allowed for him to view their silhouettes, but he found the sight fascinating.
"Caspian!"
He turned to see Susan walking towards him. He frowned; it was rather late at night. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Couldn't sleep," she replied as she moved to stand next to him. "You?"
"Couldn't sleep."
"I can't believe that the wedding is over... Peter is a married man now." Her voice was filled with wonder.
"It does seem unreal." He admitted. "We were all mere kids not long ago."
"Kids who fought wars against tyrants, you mean?"
"You know what I mean," Caspian nudged her lightly, "It seems quite strange that one of us has a... a consort now."
"That's called growing older."
"Yes, I suppose it is."
There was a gap in conversation that neither wanted to break. Both of them were simply content in enjoying the view and each other's presence. "I wonder what will be going on in Peter's room right now," Caspian said out loud.
Susan looked at him incredulously, "What is the matter with you?"
Caspian was perplexed by the almost hostile reaction, until he realised his mistake. It was Peter's wedding night and he had somehow implied... "No, no, no!" He flushed. "That is not what I meant. I'm sorry; that was a poorly worded thought. I meant that I can only imagine how... difficult it must be for Peter and Isabel to accept that they are now a couple, seeing the circumstances under which they got married."
"Oh," Susan said, looking away, hoping to hide her blush. Her mouth worked for a moment before she spoke, "Well, yes. They must be feeling awkward."
Like we are. Caspian thought sullenly, mentally berating himself for not thinking before he spoke. The silence that fell between them was rather uneasy, and he wanted to break it. He searched for a random topic of conversation.
Susan beat him to it. "You dance so well," She said, "I've seen it before, we've danced before, but your skills always surprise me."
He grinned. "Yes, well, dancing is one of my many talents!"
She laughed. "And may I ask what other talents you have?"
Caspian pretended to be deep in thought before saying, "I'm lovable."
"That's not a talent. That's a trait."
"Talent, Trait. Same thing," he shrugged.
"No, it's not." Susan said, "Trait is a distinguishing feature of a person's character while talent is a special–"
"Hush, Susan," Caspian said, placing his hand on Susan's mouth, "Did anyone ever tell you that you read too much?"
His hand was still covering her mouth so she couldn't speak. She nodded in reply.
"And did they tell you to stop before you become a dull know-it-all?"
She nodded again.
"Did you listen to them?" He asked, leaning forward a bit, absorbing her features.
Her eyes widened and she shook her head dazedly.
"Obviously," He chuckled, removing his hand.
"Do you think I'm a dull know-it-all?" She asked sharply.
"I think you are the smartest person I know." Caspian looked at her. How much he wanted to tell her more, how much he wanted to hold her close in his arms, how much he wanted to stare into her deep eyes for eternity... but he couldn't. He didn't know what she felt for him, and her friendship was too precious. He would not risk it.
[][][][][][][]
Peter opened his eyes and blinked groggily for a few moments. Sunlight was streaming in from the windows, illuminating the room brightly. He lay mangled on the couch in a painful way. Taking a deep breath, he got up, groaning as his muscles protested against any movement. He couldn't remember being this uncomfortable while sleeping.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck absently as his eyes came to rest on Isabel's sleeping form on the bed. It really did happen, he thought. A part of him had hoped to wake up and find out that all of this was had been a dream. Clearly, that part was wrong. His wife was sleeping in his bed.
And he was stuck on the lounge. He couldn't blame her for that, though. It had been his choice to sleep there, and he would be sleeping there for the rest of his life, apparently.
When Susan had had Isabel's belongings moved to his chambers - "You two will have a chance of getting to know each other better, Peter!" - he had been extremely annoyed. He had assumed that he would not be sharing a room with Isabel after marriage; after all, it was not uncommon for kings and queens to have separate bedchambers. History showed that many monarchs only shared a bed with their consorts when they... needed to produce heirs, or felt rather loving towards each other.
Neither of this was a case for Peter and Isabel. He did find her beautiful, yes, but he had absolutely no interest in having an intimate, physical relationship with her. And if the awkwardness she had displayed around him the last night was anything to go by, she did not want it either. Additionally, Narnia's throne was not in a desperate need of an heir. There were plenty of monarchs ready to take control if anything ever happened to Peter.
But the more he thought about it, the more he realised that these living arrangements were perhaps for the best. If Isabel lived in separate bedchambers, he would have done everything to keep himself away from her. They would never have spent a single night within the vicinity of each other. And eventually, rumours would have spread all across the country. The idea that the High King of Narnia would not bed his wife would have been humiliating for Isabel, and would have harmed his own position as well.
No, sharing a bedchamber with Isabel was the right thing to do. This way, no one but them would know what their marriage is truly like, which is exactly how it should be. He was perfectly alright with the world thinking that he and Isabel live in marital bliss.
A short while later, Peter stood in front of the mirror in the room, dressed in fresh clothes. He ran his fingers through his hair to make sure he looked presentable. That was when he saw Isabel prop herself into a sitting position, blinking a few times, her expression a mixture of confusion and wonder.
"Good morning," He said.
Her eyes snapped to him. "'Morning," She said, quickly standing up. Her nightgown fell to her feet, but left rather less to the imagination when it came to her form.
He averted his eyes and pointed towards the wash chambers. "Get dressed. We are expected at the dining hall for breakfast."
Once Isabel was dressed, which surprisingly didn't take very long, the two of them left the room without a word to each other. Peter noted that Isabel walked a step behind him, and it took him a minute to realise it was because she still did not know the way around the palace. He didn't blame her, though. The place was huge and confusing. Whoever they passed on their way would stare at them as if they had never seen a wedded couple before. This annoyed the High King, and he tried his best to ignore it.
Once they reached the dinning hall, Peter stepped aside to let Isabel to enter first and followed her inside. The other monarchs were already seated at the table.
"Good morning, Peter and Isabel!" Edmund greeted them enthusiastically.
Peter nodded and took his seat while Isabel politely replied before slipping into a chair next to her husband. Once everyone was settled, the food was served.
"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" Edmund asked. "What do you think, Pete?"
Peter shrugged. "I guess so."
"And last night was beautiful too, with twinkling stars and the bright moon."
Peter nodded indifferently.
"Did you have fun last night, Pete?" Edmund smirked.
Peter all but choked on his food. He coughed as he took a large sip from his goblet, all the while glaring at his brother. He should have known that Edmund was up to no good, as always. From the corner of his eyes, the High King noticed Isabel lowering her head and focusing intently on the contents of her plate, her cheeks crimson. "I enjoyed the reception, and the food." Peter said once he had regained the use of his lungs. "It was well arranged, thank you all."
"It was nothing," Susan intervened, shooting Edmund an annoyed glare. "You liked it and that is all that matters."
"It was not nothing," Isabel said softly. "It was a beautiful evening you all arranged... And thank you for the clothes, Susan. I think I have enough things to last me a lifetime!"
Peter tuned out the rest of the conversation the girls had about... clothes or something. Once he finished his breakfast, he stood up. "Caspian, meet me in my study once you are done here."
"What do you mean?" Susan asked before Caspian could reply. "Surely you do not plan to get back to work today."
"That is what I had in my mind, Su." Peter said.
"But, but, you just got married yesterday. Shouldn't you," Susan faltered, waving her hands abstractly. "…be showing Isabel around? I mean, she hasn't even seen the city yet."
Peter stiffened. "I have many matters of state to attend to." He could see it. Susan was going to argue. Again. He thought he had made it perfectly clear how he felt about being pushed into situations with Isabel, and yet Susan just did not seem to get it.
Well, no matter. He would deal this in a different way. Turning to Isabel, he said: "It would be better if you ask someone else to show to around. And if you want me to do it, then I'm afraid you'll have to wait. At least for a week."
Isabel looked up at him. "It's fine." She said politely.
With a curt nod, Peter walked out of the room without a backward glance.
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It was close to midnight when Peter returned to his chambers. He and Caspian had been cooped up in his office, working all day. They even had their food delivered to there. There was no emergency, no major problem, but Peter felt that he had neglected his duties during the week leading up to his wedding and he wanted to get back on track.
He was surprised to find that Isabel was still awake. She was sitting on the bed, blankets drawn to her waist, fiddling with her wedding ring once again. She looked up at him when he walked in. "Long day?"
"Yes." He sat down on the chaise with a sigh. "Are you angry with me?"
"Should I be?" Isabel asked.
"Susan was kind enough to tell me that I acted like an uncaring husband when I refused to show you around the city today." He reached down and unlaced his boots. "I won't apologize for that. My duties as a king will always take precedence over everything else, including you."
"I understand." She said. "And I wasn't angry."
"I'm glad to hear that." His bare feet touched the cool, marble floor as he put his boots aside and sat up straight, looking at his wife. "You're still awake."
"You weren't here."
"Well, what can I do for you?"
Isabel frowned, clearly confused by his question. "I beg your pardon?"
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Don't you want something from me?"
"No."
It was his turn to be confused now. "Then, why are you still awake?"
"Because you weren't here."
It took a moment for him to understand what she was saying, and once he did, he found himself getting angry. He had thought that there was an unspoken agreement between them: he would not be a husband to her, and she would not have to be a wife to him. He was playing his part by refusing to spend time with her, then why in the name of all that was holy was she sacrificing her sleep for him? "You don't have to stay up and wait for me to return, Isabel." He said icily.
She blinked in surprise. "I was just -"
"I know." He said firmly, getting to his feet. She was trying to do what she thought was her duty. "I don't want you to, so don't." With that, he stormed into the wash chambers to change into his night clothes. When he came out, Isabel was already asleep. Good, he thought as he walked towards the lounge, preparing his body for another night of uncomfortable sleep.
So, how was it? I want your comments! Please, please review.
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