Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own characters and plots. The original universe and everything in it belong to C. S. Lewis. All photos used of film characters belong to Walt Disney Pictures. The content I have written is fanfiction and its only purpose is to inspire creativity and to further immerse oneself in the universe C. S. Lewis has created.

Author's note: Rated M for description and mention of sexual assault, self-harm and abusive behaviour. Your personal well-being is very important, and if these subjects trigger any trauma for you, please skip this chapter. I urge you to take care of your mental health and seek professional help, especially during this pandemic. With all my love, SkyPhoenix.

"Some journeys take us far from home. Some adventures lead us to our destiny."

- C.S. Lewis, "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" (1950)

Chapter 9 – The Barbarian Queen – May – November 1010 – Narnia

Now

"Again." Susan gritted through clenched teeth, dark hair falling from her small braid and into her eyes and mouth. She shook her head furiously and spat the strands of hair out of her tightly drawn lips.

"Your highness." Came the careful warning from the young and armoured soldier. Susan had bribed him an obscene amount of coin for his discretion and skill with a blade.

"Again!" She roared in frustration, her sharpened sword ready in one hand and her heavy shield in the other.

"Su." Pippa moved forward, similarly dressed in light armour and with a sword and shield of her own.

Susan glared at her. "I said again!"

The soldier moved quickly, his blade clashing against Susan's. She barely managed to respond before the soldier had disarmed her and nearly splintered her shield. Susan got up quickly despite her aching muscles and the bruises she was sure to develop and aimed a swing at the soldier's knees.

Pippa watched them sparring warily from a short distance. For weeks now, after sundown, she and Susan had met with a soldier in secret to be schooled in the art of swordsmanship. It was Susan's idea, but Pippa had gone along with it mostly to keep an eye on Susan, but also to learn, as she agreed it was about time she learned how to defend herself in battle. Also, her body finally felt ready again to perform more physical activities without causing her discomfort.

Susan cried out in pain and exhaustion as she once more found herself on her knees, her sword lay in the grass a few feet away. She resorted to beating the soldier's chest furiously with her fists, not caring that her knuckles were starting to bleed. The poor soldier tried to pry her hands away from him, but Susan was unrelenting. Pippa hurried forward.

"Stop it, Susan! Please stop, you're hurting yourself!" She pleaded.

Susan shoved and kicked fiercely before collapsing in Pippa's arms, sobbing and trembling.

"Thank you, that'll be all." Pippa sent the confused, but unhurt, soldier on his way. She cradled the weeping Susan and stroked her hair as she gently tried to soothe her. "Shh, you're alright. You're safe."

"It's my fault, it's all my fault!" Susan cried into Pippa's neck.

"No, it's not." Pippa tried to reassure her, but she knew it wouldn't work. For months she had tried to comfort Susan, but nothing seemed to ease Susan's broken heart and guilty conscience. She knew it would take time, Aslan had said so, but Pippa had a dreadful feeling in her stomach that if things did not improve, there would be no more time to make it right again.

Then

Susan was an excellent archer, there was no denying it, and as the lords and ladies clapped enthusiastically for yet another perfect shot, she could not help but glow as their praise spurred her on. No one clapped louder or more enthusiastically than him though. Prince Rabadash of Calormen was not a very tall or strong man, but what he lacked in height and strength he made up for with his charm and eloquence – his way with words unlike any other man Susan had ever spoken to. His skin was copper-coloured, and his eyes and hair the colour of burnt charcoal. A short goatee with whiskers covered his jaw and lips, and although he was by no means an old man; grey stripes blended shapely into his inky hair.

"Oh, brilliantly shot, my queen! Absolutely brilliant!" Prince Rabadash declared jovially, before swooping down to plant a tender kiss on Susan's hand.

Susan blushed at his public display of affection. She had never really cared for grand romantic gestures or being intimate around an audience, instead preferring the simple acts of love – sweet kisses in hidden alcoves, a cup of tea in the morning or remembering the names of her favourite things for example. Prince Rabadash, however, felt that their courtship needed to be seen and understood by their subjects for it to truly matter. They rarely spent any time alone, in fact, he had never even called her by her given name; referring only to her title, or as his beloved when he addressed her.

Susan was shaken from her reverie as Rabadash let go of her hand, reached for his own heavily ornamented bow and proceeded to aim and shoot an arrow toward the practice target in a confident manner. His arrow struck near the middle, very close to Susan's red-tipped arrow buried right in the centre of the wooden board. Their noble audience let out well timed cheers, but Susan noticed the man's shoulders tensed for a brief moment before he faced the crowd; his posture once again relaxed, and his lips drawn in a wide smile.

In all the years Susan had known Rabadash, she knew he did not like to be bested, particularly not in public and particularly not by a woman, and she had witnessed more than once how his temper lurked just beneath the surface, like a lion readying his claws before attacking. But his anger was fleeting, and it was never aimed at her.

"It seems no one can rival your skill at archery, my beloved." Rabadash claimed with another kiss to her knuckles.

Susan smiled politely, even though she felt his words were spoken more harshly this time and might not be meant as a compliment. As they walked through the gardens to join the Tisroc for supper – on account of the Prince declaring himself bored with their game – Susan felt rather guilty for enjoying the praise she'd received earlier. Perhaps it would have been more polite to allow Rabadash the victory shot? After all, she was a guest in his and his father's home. The Prince's hold of her arm tightened as they entered the palace and greeted his father.

Tomorrow she would do better, she promised herself. Tomorrow, she would do as all well-behaved ladies should; sit quietly and not act out of turn.

Now

She was drowning. Water flooded her mouth and filled her nose, blocking out her tortured screams. Her eyes burned as she tried to keep them open and force the blackness away. She was drowning – and she was glad. Glad to finally be rid of her pain, to be rid of his touch and his gaze burning through her soul every day and every night. As her lungs wrenched and howled, desperate for air; she knew she soon would be free. And then, just as she felt she could grow wings at the feeling of being so light, Susan opened her eyes.

It had all been a dream. A nightmare. An illusion. Susan was half-sitting and half-laying in the large ceramic claw-foot tub in her bathroom, naked and shivering as the day she was born. The skin on her fingers and toes were wrinkled like prunes, and the bathwater was icy cold, but Susan didn't mind. The cold only made her go numb. She picked up a loaf of soap and started to furiously scrub her skin clean. Logically speaking, she knew she couldn't get any cleaner, but she was desperate to erase his touch and the markings he had left on her skin.

She hardly noticed she was crying as she studied the fading bruises on her arms and thighs intently, as if her stare could vanish them. She knew she still had purple blemishes on her back that hurt when she laid down, and that the fingerprints of a large hand were still visible against the pale skin of her throat. Susan threw the soap harshly against the wall and watched as it slipped down the stone wall and slithered across the damp floor.

Her left hand went to absentmindedly stroke the length of dark hair she knew wasn't there anymore. Susan's dark brown mane that once nearly reached her ankles was chopped close and unevenly to her ears. It's just hair, Susan tried to reason with herself just as her treacherous heart crumbled and she began to weep uncontrollably. It's your own fault really, her mind whispered over and over again. If you only you had behaved differently. If you'd just behaved properly. None of this would've happened to a respectable lady acting appropriately. You were asking for it. Asking to be judged and punished.

Susan let her body and mind be swallowed by the chilly bathwater. She was drowning.

Then

The first time Prince Rabadash proposed marriage to the Gentle Queen was immediately after meeting her during King Peter and lady Philippa's wedding celebration. Stunned, Susan had giggled at his compliments, but politely turned down his offer explaining that she had no intention of promising herself to a man she barely knew. Prince Rabadash had offered a dance and a promise of staying in Narnia to get to know her better in return.

The second time Rabadash asked for Susan's hand in marriage was only weeks later when meeting with Peter and Edmund to discuss an alliance between Calormen and Narnia. Peter had scoffed at the idea of marrying for political advantage whilst Edmund had laughed and told the Calormene Prince that no one told his sister what to do, and that he was welcome to try and change her mind. Rabadash then offered to show Susan his lovely country on a visit next spring instead. She happily agreed, as she was more than excited to know more of his world and its inhabitants.

As time passed, Susan and Rabadash exchanged letters frequently and visited each other on numerous occasions. The political alliance between the Kings and Queens of Narnia and the Tisroc of Calormen grew stronger as the Gentle Queen and the Prince's friendship blossomed. Rabadash would propose often, each time offering new and improved reasons as to why their match would be perfect. Susan would laugh and tell him she considered him to be one of her dearest friends and that she would need time to see him as anything more than that. Soon after this declaration Rabadash had kissed her urgently, and Susan found that she did not mind.

After their first shared kiss, Rabadash voiced his desire to marry her with more urgency, and let no opportunity pass him to show other noblemen and royalty that their courtship was serious, and that Susan would one day become his queen. Susan had stayed at the Tisroc's palace in Tashbaan for months when Rabadash eventually lost his patience. Susan had longed to return to Narnia for some time, sensing tension between herself and the Prince after their archery contest, and had initially denied his request to join him and his noblemen companions for supper one night, but he had demanded that she attend.

Susan sat beside Prince Rabadash clad in soft silk as he drank and hollered with his friends. Susan picked at the spiced lamb and sweet fruits, the food she once loved tasted like ash in her mouth. She observed the loud men around the table and their wives eating quietly next to them. No one bore weapons as it was forbidden to carry them within the palace walls. Strong wine was passed around in goblets, and many of the men smoked from pipes that left the room heavily scented and covered in mist.

After the meal was finished Susan tried to excuse herself. The wine and smoke had affected her greatly and she felt her body grow heavy in exhaustion while her thoughts were incoherent and foggy. Rabadash had grabbed her arm roughly and moved her closer to him as he rested on the many pillows, rugs and quilts stretched across the room.

"Where do you think you're going?" He sneered as she tried to wrestle herself free of his grasp.

"Let me go!" Susan demanded, but her voice did not quite reach the volume she had intended. She lost her balance and landed on the colourful pillows beside Rabadash. His hold on her tightened.

"Why would I? You are to be my wife, no?" He pushed his body closer to hers and Susan could feel his hot breath on her neck. He reeked of tobacco and alcohol. "You will soon learn that as my wife, I'm entitled to a few pleasures." Rabadash taunted her.

Susan whimpered in fear and struggled to keep her vision focused. She could barely make out the face of the Prince now laying on top of her, his weight pinning her down as she fought to free herself. His hand slid from her arm to her throat, and as he squeezed viciously, her world went black.

When she regained consciousness, her dress had been ripped from her body and her face was pressed against the velvet of a pillow. She tried to scream, but her throat was raw as she choked and spluttered as her lungs desperately gasped for air.

"My lovely Barbarian Queen." Rabadash whispered as his hands roamed further and graced her naked breasts and thighs.

"No. No. No." Susan whispered as tears stung her eyes. She could hear Rabadash breathing heavily, and his men laughing and drinking. She needed to move, to escape. Her fingers reached to grasp anything but the pillows and blankets, but she found nothing she could hold on to as she felt his hands bruise her body.

"Don't fight it." Rabadash gritted out between clenched teeth. "No one can save you from this. I will wage war against all of Narnia for you, my wild beauty. I will behead your brothers, slay your countrymen and lay waste to all you hold dear." He laughed cruelly.

"Just let me go!" Susan pleaded.

Rabadash spread her legs and knelt in between them. He held a sharp knife to her throat before grabbing a handful of Susan's dark hair. He proceeded to cut it forcefully whilst smirking at her. When he was done, he discarded the knife and the hair left in his palm as he regarded her with lust burning in his eyes.

"I cannot let you leave. I will mark you as mine and then after that no one will have you." Rabadash forced her from her back and onto her stomach as he worked to undo the strings in front of his loose trousers. "Scream for me barbarian!" He demanded.

But Susan could not scream as she felt him invade her every crevice. She could only gasp as pain shot through her when he forced himself into her over and over again. Susan squeezed her eyes shut as she sobbed soundlessly. Make it stop, dear Aslan, make it stop! She cried out wordlessly.

Suddenly, Rabadash howled in pain and the feel of his body was lifted from her. In the chaos that arose Susan managed to crawl from the room with nothing but a thin blanket covering her nakedness. The bruises on her body made her escape slow, but by some unknown force she managed to stand and make her legs run faster than they ever had before, and soon she burst through a set of doors and escaped into the pitch-black night.

Now

Were it not for the kindness of the strangers she met while fleeing from Tashbaan, Susan was sure she would have died in the cold and desolate desert that surrounded all of Calormen. The strangers hid her away in their caravan and accepted her lie of being a servant girl desperate to evade the Tisroc's grasp, despite her obvious foreign appearance and accent. They fed and clothed her and tended to her wounds whilst they rode on towards the borders of Archenland. News of her abrupt disappearance and the Prince's humiliation had reached both King Lune and her brothers and sisters in Narnia who waited for her at the gates of Anvard.

Susan remembered very little after that. Once she was back home at Cair Paravel, the guilt and sleepless nights overwhelmed her. She could not find peace or safety in any place, and no one could be trusted or give her comfort. She hid in her chambers, dismissed all her servants, and refused to eat. Her siblings would visit often; Peter with news from Calormen, Edmund tried to teach her chess, Pippa came with books, and Lucy brought sweets. Susan refused them all. Were it not for their insistent visits she swore she could have lied in bed forever and let hopelessness and grief tear at her body until her flesh had rotted and her skeleton was the only thing left of her.

A careful knock on her chamber doors disturbed Susan from her thoughts. She looked up from her position underneath the windowsill as she sat with her arms wrapped protectively around her small frame on the stone floor whilst the chill of the autumn wind whisked through her chopped hair and created trails of goosebumps along her bare skin.

"Yes?" She sniffed, her voice dry and choked from her previous sobs.

Pippa emerged from behind the heavy door. She wore her usual friendly smile, but no books were present in her arms. Susan sighed and let her head drop to rest against her knees.

Pippa approached her carefully, her right hand resting on her rounded belly whilst her left hand supported her back. Pregnancy suited her, Susan thought. Though it only served as a reminder of a fate she herself narrowly escaped after the attack.

"Susan." Pippa spoke with tenderness in her voice as she lowered herself to sit beside Susan on the floor. "Please, you have to eat something."

Susan felt tears slip past her closed eyelids as she shook her head. "Go away."

"I won't." Pippa tried to put an arm around Susan's shoulders. Susan flinched and shook violently as she sobbed. "You cannot let him win." She continued. "Peter wants you to address the Narnians at court later today. They need to hear from you, to see you well again."

"Please, don't make me." Susan whimpered. "I can't – I can't do it!"

"I know you don't want to do this, but you must." Pippa pressed and reached for Susan's hand to hold. Pippa's grey eyes were determined, but gentle as they bore into Susan's terrified crystal blue gaze. "History is written by survivors, and that is what you did. You survived Susan. It may not feel like it, but you are alive. And safe. And loved."

Susan shook her head as she wept uncontrollably. Pippa squeezed her hand in reassurance.

"Whatever you say today will be the truth. Tell our people that he tried to ruin our nation by ruining you, but that he failed."

Susan hiccupped as she tried to calm herself. "But I am ruined!"

Pippa shook her head insistently and moved closer to Susan. "No one will ever know what he did to you. Let time erase his marks. Let time erase his name, let him be forgotten!" She exclaimed.

"You will be remembered as a queen who fought and won, for her people and for herself. You are not weak. You are strong." Pippa continued as she hugged Susan close. "You will be known as a warrior queen. Tell your story. Make a choice to survive." She whispered into Susan dark hair.

"I need to learn how to fight." Susan mumbled tearfully into Pippa's neck. "I need to be able to protect myself!"

"Shh." Pippa stroked her back and kissed her brow softly. "I will help you. Whatever you need."

Susan pulled away from their embrace, her eyes fierce and watery. "Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Then

Following the return of the Gentle Queen there was a gathering of Narnians and Archenlanders alike in the courtyard of King Lune.

"This is an outrage!" Exclaimed King Lune.

"He cannot get away with it!" Cried Edmund.

"We must be careful!" Warned Mr. Tumnus.

"Where is Aslan?" Lucy wondered.

"I am here, young one." Came the deep voice of the Great Lion as he wandered forward through the crowds, his velvet paws hitting the stone-clad courtyard softly.

"Aslan!" Peter called out. "Great lion tell us our course of action. I say we assemble an army and storm their gates right away!"

"Patience High King Peter!" Aslan warned. "First we must hear the news this dear griffin brings with him."

Everyone turned their heads to the griffin as he glided through the air and landed effortlessly on the cobblestones. A little out of breath he hurried towards Aslan.

"News from Calormen, your majesties. The Prince is dead!" The griffin puffed out after bowing before Aslan.

"What? How?" Peter pressed.

"A knife in the back, your grace. The Tisroc is furious, blames it all on Queen Susan, sir!"

"An outrage I say! Everyone knows no weapons are allowed in the Tisroc's palace!" King Lune huffed and waved a fist angrily in the air.

"Susan couldn't! She would never intentionally harm anyone!" Lucy cried.

"There's been a mistake Aslan! A plot of some kind!" Edmund spoke hurriedly.

"Silence!" Demanded Aslan and everyone went quiet. He turned towards Lucy first. "I know Queen Susan has a gentle soul, that is not in question here." He turned to Edmund next. "And there has been talk of unrest between Prince Rabadash and his soldiers. Perhaps one of them saw an opportunity and took it whilst brave Susan fled?"

"But what shall we do Aslan?" Lucy questioned quietly. "If the Tisroc seeks vengeance for his son's murder, surely there must be something we can do to clear Susan's name."

"We fight." Peter announced bitterly, his right fist clenched around the hilt of his sword.

"Let me speak with the Tisroc." Aslan said with reassurance as his golden gaze moved towards Edmund. "After all, I once before saved one of you from being punished unjustly."

"The Tisroc has other sons. More obedient sons." Claimed King Lune. "I'm sure that the only thing the Tisroc wants is to not lose face in front of his people."

"Thank you for your advice King Lune." Peter began, his voice low and full of wrath. "But a great wrong has been done to my sister, and I'll be damned if a traitor's actions amongst their midst is blamed on her just to spare the Tisroc some humiliation!"

Aslan moved to put a paw gently on Peter's shoulder. "I see your anger, and I urge you to tread carefully. Narnia prospers under your rule, and it would be unwise to wage war against such a powerful country."

King Lune moved forward and extended his hand for Peter to shake. "Although, it would be with Archenland's support, your majesty!"

Aslan looked at them all gravely for a moment. "I shall speak with the Tisroc. I am certain that I can appeal to him and his people; for his fear of Tash is stronger than his lust for power."

He turned to Pippa who had been standing quietly by Peter's side observing the others while they spoke to one another. "Take care, young one. Watch over your sister. She will need your help to overcome her fears, but in time I know she will conquer her pain and grow to be who she was meant to be."

Now

Once upon a time she was crowned the Gentle Queen of the Radiant Southern Sun. Her beauty and kindness unmatched in all the land. Susan had danced all night after her coronation. Spun around in circles whilst smelling the salt of the ocean and feeling the cool marble beneath her feet. After the feast she had stayed up late and watched the stars from her balcony as they shimmered yellow and bright in the dark. She had felt so strongly that Narnia was her home, and that nothing could ever take this land from her because she belonged here.

Susan took a deep breath as she stared up at the large mural of Aslan that decorated most of the tapestry in the gallery. His mane and fur golden and brown. His eyes kind and majestic. Once his face brought her unimaginable joy. Now, she felt nothing. A coldness had crept into her heart and blackened it.

Susan clenched her fists and felt her nails draw warm blood from within her sweaty palms. Take control of who you are, she reminded herself firmly. She repeated the saying to herself every day she woke and throughout the day. It felt like her only lifeline to keep her tethered to this world. Soon she would walk into the throne room and speak to the Narnians at court. Her life would continue whilst he was buried in the cold and dark soil. No one's going to save you Susan, she thought bitterly. Only I can save myself.

Susan exhaled and stood straight as she smoothed her skirt and plastered a smile on her face before exiting the gallery, leaving Aslan behind her and the future in front of her. Take control of who you are.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Based on 'The Horse and his Boy' (1954) by C.S. Lewis.

Songs for this chapter:

Kiko – Dead Can Dance

Take Control – Kodaline

Opium – Dead Can Dance

I Cannot Let You Leave – Mikolai Stroinski

Howl of the White Wolf – Adam Skorupa, Krzysztof Wierzynkiewicz

Peter Pevensie – Born 19th of January 1924 (26 years old)

Susan Pevensie – Born 2nd of June 1925 (25 years old)

Edmund Pevensie – Born 6th of March 1927 (23 years old)

Lucy Pevensie – Born 25th of December 1929 (20 years old, turning 21)

Philippa Copland – Born 7th of July 1924 (26 years old)