It was in the dead of night that Susan sneaked from her rooms to practice her shooting.
The day had been long and tiresome, and it left the gentle Queen of Narnia wishing it would just end. But alas, sleep had been avoiding her for hours now, and if sleep would not come to her, then she should at least unleash as much of her frustrations. Despite the late hour, the weather was pleasantly warm, the last signs of Summer still lingered everywhere she looked.
Susan smiled, and she momentarily forgot about her troubles as she lost herself in her thoughts. The High Queen loved Summer. She loved getting lost out in the fields, bathing herself in the sun's scorching heat as she watched her people tend to their growing harvest and prepare themselves to survive whatever it was the unpredictable season would bring about this year. At dusk and dawn, the high queen loved to visit the hills that looked over the forest and lake with nothing but the lightest of her summer cloaks and a leather-bound journal with a charcoal pencil nestled between its yellow pages.
Susan loved to sit upon her cloak, feet tucked daintily underneath her as she captured the scenery before her, diligently transferring every detail her eyes caught on to the blank parchment. And when the moon and sun were no longer visible from her comfortable little perch on the hill and the chill of the night or the scorching morning heat became too much for her majesty to bare, she would gather her skirts, her items carefully secured under her arms, and head to her chambers where she would spend the next hours meticulously adding all the vibrant colours the trees and fields turned, the way the sky would perfectly mirror itself across the lake's surface.
Oh yes, the High Queen loved the season in its entirety.
Autumn, well, that particular season was a different matter altogether. The days became less dry and in turn, became unbearably humid. The warm waters of the lake became cold and icy and the sun would take to hiding behind large rolling clouds.
But now the trees were turning red, and the weather was beginning to settle to a pleasant warmth during the day, the wind picking a chill overnight leaving the morning cool and refreshing as the sun rose over the land. And over her spot in the hills, the High Queen could see how day by day the trees would become more and more barren. See how the vibrant colours that stained the sky became darker, angrier. Autumn reminded Susan of loss, it was one autumn morning when her father had left for war, and it was one autumn morning when her mother had sent her and her siblings away from the horrors that same war was plaguing their world.
So no, Queen Susan did not much care for autumn. And the nymphs that resided in the castle gardens didn't either. She never would have guessed so if the gossiping group sitting on the benches in the corner of her own shooting fields had been more discreet regarding their seasonal displeasure and pulled her from her musings.
Susan tried her hardest to pay them no mind, to focus solely on her shooting, but their incessant chatter kept distracting her. With a resigned sigh, she put down her bow and went to fetch her arrows from the target to load them back into her quiver before walking up to the chatting clique. Though had she known it was the notorious gossiping duo - Daphine and Aeleora - she would have just retreated to her bed chambers.
But she had been spotted and greeted over, the pair of them offering the space between them for her to sit. Forcing a smile, she gently settled herself down between the two. "Daphine, Aeleora," she nodded to each in greeting. "Lovely night is it not?" she asked politely, deciding it would be best if she initiated the conversations, to simplify her handling the direction this took.
"Good evening, Your Majesty." they bowed their heads, the leaves that made up their hair billowing softly in the wind. "How kind of you to join us."
"It would seem I had one too many thoughts on my mind and decided that practising was the only way to clear my head." Susan smiled politely at them. The two quickly launched into an animated discussion regarding sleeping patterns with each other. Fearing she would have to endure an aimless string of conversation topics, Susan wondered if the Western Woods had any interesting news as it had been quite some time since word from its inhabitants had reached the castle.
The feeling of guilt for cutting the two dryads off mid-conversation lasted mere seconds, as the High Queen quickly remembered that if she did not guide the subjects conversed, they would take a life of their own. Besides, the Western Woods belonged to her royal brother, King Edmund, and much like him the creatures that resided within them only concerned themselves in important matters and did not concern themselves with gossip.
Susan was no stranger to gossip. As a woman in court she understood the importance of such activities, as a Queen in court she understood that gossip was more than just a means of entertainment. Gossip was a weapon if one learned how to wield it to their benefit, it was one of the building blocks of any kingdom if history was to be believed. But the Gentle Queen of Narnia did not dwell too much on the grapevine (if such a thing could be called that. Gossiping was more like crawling around blindfolded on a carefully spun spider's web), now that was a matter left entirely to her ladies.
"... yes! And oh what a wonderful wedding it was, wasn't it, Your Grace?"
The High Queen was snapped from her thoughts and back to the current conversation at hand. A pink flush tainted Susan's pale cheeks, last she had been aware of, they had been discussing the new trails that led from one of the dwarf villages to the main market square by cutting through the forest, or something equally dull when the cherry blossom nymph squealed in delight and inquired her thoughts regarding the festivities.
Despite having been caught ignoring her subjects, the high queen chose to state the truth, which was that she had not attended any weddings since last spring. Predictably, the two nymphs made high-pitched noises of disbelief.
"Oh, you should have seen it, Your Grace!" Cooed Daphine "Queen Lucy wore such a beautiful dress, silk and tulle so soft it was most surely spun by magic from the petals of the snow-white roses that grow every spring inside the lonesome cave that stands by the seashore, the fabric flowed behind her creating the most beautiful scene!" she said passionately, then turning back to Susan and bowing her head sheepishly, seeming to remember something, "Not that you yourself or not the most beautiful in all the realm, I-I just meant-"
Susan smiled tightly and held up a hand before the nymph could insult her further.
Susan knew herself to be beautiful. Narnia's beautiful Queen the people called her, Susan the Beautiful. Oh, how she despised those titles. Loathed them with a passion, especially when people tried to compare others to her own beauty and then apologize for doing so. As if the act itself was an insult to her beauty.
There were days when all Susan wanted to do was take an arrow, or any crude sharpened object for that matter, and bring it to her face and disfigure herself in such a way that would leave in question whether or not the High Queen of Narnia had ever been pretty, much less the beauty everyone spoke her to be. She hated being known only for her looks as if that alone was her worth.
"Do not apologize for calling your Queen a beauty, especially not to me," she assured, a tight smile still in place though softening as she lowered her hand.
"Our apologies, Your Grace," they bowed.
"Now, tell me more about the wedding my royal sister attended." she encouraged, but at the look the two nymphs shared, Susan knew that something was not in the norm.
"Apologies your grace, but this perhaps might not be something we should be discussing without your royal brother and sister present," Aeleora replied.
At this, Susan's eyes narrowed minutely, the nymphs did not show signs of noticing this as she had quickly schooled her features. "Nonsense, whatever it was I want to know," she smiled a little easier, her tone leaving no room for the two humanoid creatures to deny.
Not that they could. No one denied a King or Queen of Narnia.
"The royal wedding your grace, the one between King Edmund and Queen Lucy," Daphine began, but the look Susan sent her way silenced whatever else the nymph wanted to say.
"You would do well to remember to keep such nonsense away from the court, lest Queen Lucy or King Edmund hear you saying such things." Susan shook her head. Perhaps she and her siblings had been too soft on their people, there was no question that the people of Narnia were kind and well-meaning folk, but they were also people who took everything as gospel. More often than not, their people would take to spinning tales out of proportion.
"We beg your pardon, your majesty, but we fail to see why the King and Queen would find offence if their marriage is the talk of the common folk," Aeleora stated, careful to watch her tone. One did not cross the High Queen after all.
"That's preposterous, why would they not tell me if that was the case?" Susan asked, becoming more and more confused by the second. "There's absolutely no way that they would have got married without Peter's or my knowledge, they wouldn't do that to us."
"We do not know. But what we speak is true," Aeleora nodded at her Daphine's words. "King Edmund and Queen Lucy were married in the western woods three days before they left on their voyage to the outer isles." the young nymph affirmed and upon seeing the distress that was clearly written on Susan's face, she added. "Please your Majesty, do not bear your siblings no harm, forever is a terribly long time to be upset with one another."
"Forever?" Susan asked, confused, her gaze narrowed. What are these two playings at, do they take me to be some heartless monster who would remain upset with her siblings for something as petty and childish as to not have been informed of their romance? Susan thought bitterly. Sure it hurt to know that they had not trusted her enough to have told her, it hurt worse to know that they thought they had to marry in secret because they found Peter and her approachable to the matter.
"Immortality is a heavy burden, my Queen. Being upset with your royal brother and sister will only make it heavier." Aeleora supplied from her left, and after a more careful look at her Queen's face, she frowned, understanding shifting her features. "Forgive me, your grace, we thought you knew, it is common knowledge among the people, or so we assumed," she quickly amended, "after your encounter with the White Stag, someone spread word of the wishes made, and surely they must be, since then we have noticed the changes you have all gone through."
And to this, Queen Susan knew not what to say, instead, she rose from her comfortable perch on the stone bench, securing her cloak over her shoulders. "It has been a long night, I bid you farewell my friends, and I will be seeing the two of you soon." She then turned on her heel and returned to the castle.
The High Queen quickly made her way through the palace until she reached her chambers. There she spent countless hours trying to wrap her head around this new piece of information.
So caught up in her own thoughts she was that Susan did not notice the rising of the sun until her ladies were knocking at her door to help her dress for the day. The fawns carrying large pitchers of hot water as the elves setting up her golden claw-foot tub adding herbs and soaps, meanwhile the human girls went about setting up her clothes and hair ornaments for the day.
It was halfway through her washing that Susan's eyes narrowed, causing the women surrounding her to stand at attention and regard her with careful reverence.
"Go to the woods. The western woods and the surrounding villages," she instructed as she picked up the sponge from the wooden stool beside the tub, "bring me news of the wedding that happened nought two moons past. Be discreet, should the Kings hear about this it would only spell trouble for us and ours."
Not needing to be dismissed, eight of the ten ladies in the room bowed exited the room, the two that remained behind stepped up to help their Queen dress and to dispose of the remains of the washing water.
Using her ladies in waiting as spies was not something Susan enjoyed.
All of her ladies had suffered at the hands of others, some more so than the rest. All of them used as tools. When the High Queen took them in, offered them her patronage, Susan had sworn to them, she would not use them as they had been used before. But the majority of her ladies were grateful and eager to serve the woman whom they owed their lives to. To most, being asked to spy and whisper the secrets of the land to their Queen was but a small price to pay for the protection she offered and the freedom they possessed. In fact, to them, espionage was nothing more than a tool they could wield to secure their freedom and protection.
And though she did not agree with the methods used by her ladies, as Queen, Susan saw an opportunity. People did not speak freely before a monarch, it mattered not how much the people claimed to admire and love the ones who ruled over them, there would always be those who opposed, those discontent to have outsiders on the throne. Some years after their coronation, the Pevensies began to struggle to hold on to their seats of power. Whispers of Aslan making a mistake in making the blood of men rule over the lands.
Peter and Edmund struggled to quell the rumours, resorting to diplomacy and intimidation to stop the sparks of a possible rebellion, while Susan and Lucy tended to the land and its citizens. This was the real start of their power. Slowly each monarch built their own courts within the court. Power was as easily given to the people as it was taken, easier still when tongues waged. Everyone wanted power, it was easy for the siblings to grant them the illusion of it. Soon whispers became murmurs, and soon they were nothing more than words the wind had once spoken.
Susan does not recall when it became the unspoken rule for her new ladies to whisper in her ear before being granted court, but the words delivered were not unwelcomed. Apparently, talking ill of others behind closed doors was something Narnia had in common with England -even if their memories of the far off land were few and fading. In any land, one thing has remained the same; people had secrets, and everyone always wanted to see someone brought down.
And just as it was in England, secrets in Narnia could be just as powerful. Secrets are knowledge and knowledge is a language the High Queen of Narnia was fluent in.
And now, twenty years into her rule, Susan's network of lady spies worked well beyond the confines of Cair Paravel. Each village surrounding the land housed a small group of women under her protection, each house recorded the happenings of their community and would make sure the news would reach her ears.
Edmund often joked about all the power she held, stating that espionage was a double blade sword and that one day she would hear something not meant for her ears. At the time, Susan had only rolled her eyes, dismissing her brother's worry as jealousy. Was her own network of spies not twice as large with thrice the reach as her kings'?
Thoughts of her younger brother had Susan frowning as she was prepped and readied for her day. Perhaps she should have heeded her brother's warning. She did not even know what it was she wanted her ladies to report. Did she want them to destroy the seeds of doubt and worry the tree nymphs had planted in her mind? What would happen, should her ladies return to her with news of the elopement of her youngest siblings.
Susan would not lie, the possibility that this could be true sent a painful jolt of betrayal straight to her heart. She knew what her siblings would have surely thought: that she and Peter would not understand. That they would tear them apart in fear and disgust. And while the High Queen could claim not what the actions of the High King would be, she could at the very least speak for her own actions. Because she would never put her youngest siblings — her family- through that pain.
For she understood what it was like to love someone forbidden. She understood what it was like to love someone so deeply, so passionately that it drove her mad. It mattered not that the laws of Narnia were different from those back in the lands beyond the lamp post and past the wardrobe. In Narnia, love was love, nothing more. The lines of acceptable and unacceptable were drawn by a lion who carried all the knowledge of the universe and none of its burden.
Taking a deep calming breath, the High Queen rose from her seat, her eyes not leaving her reflection. It would not do for her to worry about what she could not yet control.
Until then, preparations must be made.
Across the ocean, young Queen Lucy lay on her side with a blissful smile on her face, her eyes fluttering closed every so often as she struggled to remain awake, something that was becoming harder to do as of late, considering how attentive her lord husband was. Lucy let out a soft moan when she felt her bed dip slightly and an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her to a large, warm chest. "Is it morning yet?" she asked coyly, closing her eyes and burying her face into her pillow.
"Not quite," Edmund whispered against her ear, "you seem to have slept well past sunrise, it's mid-afternoon," he told her, and then watched with amusement as her eyes snapped open, and she sat up, startled.
"Edmund! Why did you not wake me?" Lucy chastised, her long auburn hair standing out in every direction, a few strands sticking to her face comically. "Because you've been utterly exhausted, and I thought you deserved the rest," Edmund told her and then proceeded to pull her back into bed, smiling when she didn't even put up a decent fight.
"You should have woken me." the young queen admonished, but she permitted herself to be enveloped in the comforting embrace of her husband.
"Well," Edmund began, and though she was unable to see him, Lucy felt rather than saw the wicked grin etched on that handsome face of his. "I would have done so, had you not complained when I attempted to wake you this morning, how utterly exhausted you were." he supplied and then yelped when he felt his wife's nails dig into his sides playfully.
Blushing furiously, the young Valiant Queen twisted in his arms until she lay face down on the mattress. Laughing, Edmund moved closer to her until she was nearly buried beneath him before he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Come now, don't be so shy, my love."
A shiver ran up and down her spine, causing goose flesh to erupt from the nape of her neck and across the expanse of her exposed back. Turning her face to the side, she stared up at her husband, a hungry look in her eyes. "Edmund?"
"Yes, my love?"
"I'm not tired anymore."
"Is that so." Edmund hummed, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck. "So if I were to… do this," Lucy's eyes fluttered closed as her lips parted and a soft gasp escaped her lips at the feel of her husband's hands reached under the covers and up her naked thighs. His touch left her as soon as it arrived, the sound of cloth shifting and hitting the wooden floor following before his touch was on her body once more.
Gently he moved her hips to an angle as he settled behind her on the bed before entering her in a smooth stroke, causing Lucy to cry out at the feeling of him.
Slowly they moved as one, taking their time to explore their bodies, the soft noises of their coupling filling their rooms. The tension built and built between them, and when Edmund felt himself nearing the edge, he trailed his hand from his wife's breast and to the apex of her thighs where their bodies met to pinch at the bundle of nerves that lay hidden between her folds.
Lucy came with a scream and a shutter as her walls clenched around her husband, his hands digging into her hips hard enough a bruise would form. Utterly spent, they fell together in a heap as they struggled to catch their breaths.
Lucy hummed as she was manoeuvred to rest her head on her husband's chest. "I love you," she said, and truly, she did. Back in England, as a young child, Lucy dreamt of someday growing up and falling in love, of marrying and starting a family of her own. She never, not once in all of her life, did young Lucy Pevensie think that she would grow up to marry Edmund. Her King. Her brother.
There had been a time many years ago, shortly after her sixteenth summer, when she had been consumed by such shame for the feelings she had for her brother. The intensity of these nearly threatened to consume her whole, threatened to destroy her and the life she knew. Had Edmund not found her that night, Lucy refused to think about what would have happened then.
Edmund had saved her from herself. He had pulled her from the river, breathed life back into her body and had held her for hours as she sobbed heavily upon his chest. She had refused to look at him for weeks afterwards. But Edmund was nothing if not stubborn, she supposed he was a lot like their mother in that sense, she never did know when to give up.
Her husband had refused to give her a moment to herself. If she turned a corner, he was there, if she went for a stroll, he was always just a few feet away. Everywhere she looked, there he was, which only served to torture her more and more each time. It wasn't until he had cornered her one late night in the library that he finally understood.
That had been the first time they kissed.
"What are you thinking?" Edmund suddenly asked, breaking the silence and pulling her from her thoughts.
"Our journey," Lucy smiled, looking up at him. "Our future."
"May it be a long and happy one." Edmund chuckled as he threaded his fingers in her head, scratching soothing patterns into her scalp before pressing his lips to her forehead.
"Since when are you such an optimist, my lord?" the young queen asked, smiling up at her husband.
"Since I married you, my Queen, I do believe a little of you has sowed itself into my being." admitted the king with a smile, but when his wife did not return it as he expected her to, he worried. "Is all well, my love?"
The Queen sighed as she faced her Lord. "I am the Valiant Queen of Narnia, yet when faced with the fact that I must face our High King and Queen to come forth with our indiscretions, I fear not for my life but for yours." She admitted.
You are my wife, and according to Narnian Law and ancient magic, you stopped being my sister the moment you and I set foot on Narnian Land and ate the fruit of its harvest. Whatever indiscretions The High King and Queen believe we have committed, they are void in the eyes of Narnia and in the eyes of Aslan." The King soothed his young wife and Queen. "Love is what we make of it in this land.
"I do hope they see things the way you and I do." The young Valiant Queen of Narnia sighed. "If so, then it would mean that they are only one step closer to having the happiness they so crave, the happiness you and I have found."
Edmund caressed the soft skin of her face before pressing a kiss to her lips. "One can only hope, but you and I both know that the High King and Queen are as stubborn as they are grand."
Lucy smiled at her Lord Husband for a moment before her expression sobered again. Noticing this, Edmund frowned and pushed himself up on his elbows. "What is it?" he asked with worry.
Lucy sighed and sat up. "Oh, Edmund, never before have I been more thankful that you are a better swordsman than Peter is," she said, ducking her head before continuing as she looked up at him from underneath her lashes. "It might come handy when we tell them that I am with child." she grinned.
It wasn't often the High Queen lost her composure.
So to see Queen Susan pace the length of her boudoir, the silks of her blue dress flowing behind her, the furs of her topcoat fisted in one hand as she chewed on the rims of her fingernails, her eyes tracing an invisible line on the ground before her, it caused the ladies in the room a great deal of unrest.
"So the rumours are true then," she said after a pause. "My sib- the King and Queen have wed, and Aslan himself blessed the union, all the while, the High King and I have been left out of the know."
When Susan had sent out her ladies to bring her news of the supposed wedding, she had not expected them to return, confirming the tale the two hamadryads had imparted on her. Sighing, the Queen straightened her back, her chin jutting out as she steeled herself. Her ladies said not a word, already having told their peace and understanding that the questions their queen made were but a way for her to make sense of the situation she now found herself with.
"Tend to my fires and leave, I require time to clear my head before I need to inform the High King," Susan commanded and made way towards the balcony, tense frame leaning against the rails, her hands gripping the stone, turning her knuckles a ghostly shade of white.
Moments after the collective echo of compliance, the High Queen was left alone to her own devices. In the time her ladies had been tracing back whispers of the royal wedding, Susan had used that time to analyse and come to terms with the fact that her siblings might face the burden of immortality. Something that was easily confirmed by speaking with their advisors.
And now, here she was again, burdened with knowledge.
It took the High Queen a full month to leave her wing of the castle. Four long weeks of refusing to see anyone. Twice the High King had tried to coax her out of her chambers, reasoning that it set a bad light to have most of the royal family missing from court. But, after bodily harm was promised for his troubles, his visits ceased, deciding it would be best for the Queen to be left to her thoughts.
For several more weeks, she was undisturbed. For weeks no one saw her.
But one morning, Queen Susan woke and called for her ladies to ready her for the day. Dutifully they answered her call. They dressed her in a deep blue silk gown, soft black furs felted to the inside material for warmth. A rope of gold was wrapped about her waist and her favourite pale brown leather coat with fur linings. Her hair was left half down, the rest was plated in a simple yet elegant twist.
Checking her reflection in the mirror once more, drinking in the sight of herself for bravery, she steeled her expression and stepped out of her suite.
And now, here Susan was, pacing outside King Peter's study, her hands wrung at her dress, wrinkling the thick material. With another breath, she placed her hand on the knob and gave it a gentle twist to release the latch, granting herself entrance.
The High King of Narnia sat at his desk, his eyes snapping up to meet her own. Immediately, Peter was on his feet and signalling for her to step inside and sit with him by the fire. With a short curtsey, she stepped in and walked over to the fire and taking a seat, Peter taking his seat beside hers a short moment later.
"I was not expecting you, but your presence is not unwelcome," Peter said, his eyes boring into hers, causing her heart to take a dangerous lurch in her chest. "Is all well?" he asked warily, his blue eyes scanning over her frame, looking for something that would tell him what she was doing in his rooms after avoiding everyone for so long.
"I have news brother, perhaps not good news, but the news I bring is not bad either," she started, holding up a hand for her king to hold as she was not done speaking. "Before I say anything, Peter, I need you to promise me to take what I say with an open mind."
"You worry me, Su," the High King frowned. Hearing the endearment had a wave of calm wash over her, giving her the strength to continue.
"Have you heard the rumours?" she asked.
Peter frowned, his posture going from relaxed to tense, his usually stormy eyes went still, a strange shadow darkening the irises. "What rumours?" he asked simply.
"The ones about our supposed immortality," Susan responded and watched as some tension left her king's form.
"Those rumours," he hummed, amusement colouring his tone. "Yes, I believe I am familiar with these." Peter nodded. " I've been waiting for Aslan's return. If anyone is able to confirm or deny these, he will."
Susan sighed and closed her eyes to gather her thoughts. "I think this might be true, but I will follow your counsel."
"I myself do not see how these words could possibly be true, but I am curious as to what would make my Queen think they have any base of truth to them," Peter's brow arched in question and in return, Susan offered a delicate shrug of her shoulder, her calm and blasé manner not denuding how his use of the possessive before her title had her heart leaping out of her chest.
"No real reason other than the obvious," she replied.
"The obvious, my queen?"
"You and I have reached our third decade, my lord, and still we are as young and healthy as we were in the spring of our youth."
The High King let out a gaffing laugh at that, earning himself a whack to his leg.
"This is a serious matter, Peter!" the high queen scolded, her eyes narrowing as she leaned back in her seat to glare at her counterpart, arms crossing at her chest. "I do not appreciate being taken for a fool." she reminded.
That seemed to sober the high king, and with a bow of his head in his queen's direction, he offered his apologies. "Forgive me, my queen, I did not wish to offend." he lamented. "Why do you feel our youthful appearance is proof of our supposed immortality?"
"Do you remember the day we were brought news of the White Stag had been spotted in Narnia?" Susan regarded him, and something in his posture must have told her was sincere in his inquiry.
Peter frowned, confused, but nodded nonetheless. "I do, Mr Tumnus told us it had the powers to grant its captor a wish, so we gathered our hunting parties and set off," he recalled. The memory seemed far off, the minor details of the event fading after nearly a decade. "You managed to wound the creature, and when I removed the arrow from its leg, it disappeared," he added.
Susan nodded, she remembered the day well. "Do you remember the words spoken before the creature?" she asked.
Peter shook his head. "I do not, my apologies. I do not seem able to recall much from those days," he said guiltily, and Susan's expression hardened.
"Well my memory does not fail me, my lord." came her clipped reply. "I remember all that happens, as knowledge appears to be my burden to bear," Susan spoke, her tone speaking of haunting memories of breathless laughter as she was pulled into a hidden alcove for a scarce moment of privacy. Visions of radiant smiles freely given in exchange for his lips on hers, like molten sunlight against her face. Hair combed until it ran like silk between her fingers, large hands encompassing her own small dainty ones.
The High King's eyes narrowed at the Queen. "We all have our burdens to bear, yours might be knowledge, mine is the responsibility to Narnia and to my siblings," he reminded. "And while I might not have the near-perfect recollection you possess, I remember all, I simply choose not to dwell too much in the past lest I forget my present."
Susan flinched at his tone and guilt flooded Peter. His chest aching, an invisible bruise forming over a phantom wound over his heart. He never did like hurting her, but sometimes it was unavoidable. Duty came first and they had to be sensible.
Before he was able to apologize for his tone, she spoke her words with a sharp blade. "Mock me all you wish, your majesty, but I least will not be haunted by the past I wish to hide." She taunted calmly, rising from her seat, forcing him to do the same. "Have you also heard of the regent's elopement?"
Her comment had him swaying on his feet. "I beg your pardon?" He demanded, scandalized.
"I'll take that as a no then," Susan nodded, clasping her hands together. "Days after our royal siblings embarked on their journey, I felt restless and turned to the gardens in an attempt to clear my head." she began. "I was unsuccessful, as you can imagine, due to our resident cherry tree nymphs. Who, as you must already have guessed, we're the ones to inform me of this ... peculiar turn of events,
"I was admittedly just as scandalized then as you are now, and demanded they keep such nonsense away from court ears less the wrong ones heard their tales. But something about the way they spoke of the deed made doubt spring in my head, and thus I entrusted my ladies to bring me the truth." she paused to breathe.
"And well?" asked King Peter. "Did they bring you confirmation or denial of the nymph's words?"
Susan paused, her eyes trained on the flickering flames of the hearth. "Comical is not?" she mused. "Day by day, everything changes, but when I look back nothing is different."
"Stop with your riddles Susan," Peter snapped, "did their words hold any truth to them?" he demanded.
"They did," Susan whispered, her voice barely audible even in the deafening silence of the king's study. A silence terminated by the unmistakable sound of a wooden table hitting marble. Startled, the high queen clutched at the furs of her chest and watched in horror as her brother tore apart the room.
When Susan had come to him, he had expected an order -guised as an invitation- to join her in the gardens for tea. Never did he expect her to bring news of their younger siblings, much less their elopement. For a fraction of a second, he had remained frozen, eyes rooted on her form, hoping to hear her speak again. To tell him she had been jesting.
But when she did not, when he noted she made no attempt to placate his spiralling thoughts, he lashed out. He destroys everything in his sights, and when he finally comes to, it is when his eyes lock with those of his queen.
Her eyes are wide as she presses herself against the red of his walls as if begging them to swallow her whole and take her away from the scene. He opens his mouth to say something. To say anything, but before he can form a syllable, she is running out of his study in a flurry. The wooden doors slamming shut behind her.
A guttural cry, echoing down the halls.
For days Susan tried to speak with Peter, needing to know that he was alright. Yet every time she so much as breathed in his direction, the king would turn sharply on his heels and abandon the general vicinity and leaving words on her lips.
After a week, she stops trying to make him talk to her. Doesn't try to catch his attention, or sit next to him at meals, she walks straight past him in the halls and doesn't so much as acknowledge his presence. Peter pretends this does not bother him. There are other things for him to be doing, in any case than attempting to soothe his sister's sensibilities: complaints to hear, cases to judge, trials to be present at, reports to read, policies to sign off on, spendings to be approved.
But sooner than the high king would have liked to admit, he began to miss his queen. Susan's indifference towards him was starting to wear at his resolve to remain upset. If anything, to spot her about the castle freely handing smiles to their people all while completely ignoring his presence was turning him bitter. And whether he liked to admit to it or not, Peter's mind achieved clarity best when he brooded.
So eventually, albeit reluctantly, he admits that she's right and makes his way to the library in the quiet hours of the afternoon when she's guaranteed to be there.
She's sitting by a table near one of the high windows, and spring sunlight streaming in turns strands of her hair to gold, chocolate waves cascading about her face. She's dressed once again in warm fabrics coloured a charcoal grey, red trim lining her sleeves and the bottom of her skirts in intimidating patterns; Peter suspects she's trying to make a point. Her brow is drawn in concentration as her hand traces a slim clump of charcoal in neat, quick lines across a piece of parchment.
Peter pauses, breath caught in his throat, and for the first time in what seems like forever, he admits to himself that she's beautiful. Quickly, he crosses the thick carpet to stand near her and awkwardly clears his throat. She tenses for a fraction of a second before she brings her eyes up to looks at him. Her expression is closed off as she glared at him in cold indifference, but he swears he saw that which she meant to hide.
"Why are you here?" she questions before he has time to contemplate her looks any further, and he frowned in disapproval at her rudeness.
"I'm the king and this is my palace," he says testily. "I'm allowed to go wherever I choose." Instantly he knows this was not what he should have said, but the words have been spoken and there is no taking them back.
Susan sniffs and begins rolling up her parchment. "I would argue that this castle is as much mine as it is yours, but I will conserve my good spirits and move elsewhere."
"No. Wait, please." He places a hand on her arm to stop her without thinking, and hastily removes it when her eyes flash. "Can I talk to you for just a minute?"
For a moment she doesn't move, and then she slowly gestures for him to speak. Her posture is stiff, her back held straight, and she doesn't meet his eyes. "Fine."
He sits down across from her, hands interlaced on the table in front of him, one foot tapping nervously. There's only one way to begin: "I am here to ask for your forgiveness."
She arches a brow at him, and he cannot feel insulted, he did not make it a habit of apologizing. Then again, he was not usually in the wrong, but this was not what he wanted to focus on. Noting that the queen had yet to speak, Peter took it as a sign to continue. "I behaved nothing short of a barbarian, and while the news you brought were life-altering, I may have overreacted. So for that, I apologize."
The High Queen's eyes close, and she takes a deep, slow breath. "I do not wish to talk about… the incident. Not now, and by the grace of Aslan, not ever." her voice is low and just barely contained. Peter risks pressing on.
"With all due respect, your grace, we will speak of it right now." the queen's eyes narrow at him, and she works to move past him, but all he does is put himself in her path. "I am not leaving until you and I have spoken," he said determinedly.
Her nostrils flare, and Peter can see the storm turning in her eyes. "Please, Su."
The words, as if they were some sort of magical incantation, immediately calm the tempest brewing in the blue of her eyes. He takes that as an indication of her willingness to listen to his words and moves forward to pull a chair for her, a silent invitation for her to take a seat. They stand there, silent, looking at each other for what seemed like decades before Susan sets her belongings back on the table.
She remains silent for a moment longer and taking that as his cue to continue, Peter clears his throat and begins. "I overreacted," he repeated.
"What I need you to understand is why. You must know how I feel for you, and you for me. I will not waste either of our time pretending the days so many years ago did not come to pass, but neither will I let those moments dictate how I behave.
"Those moments taught me many things, but above all, they taught me that what we had been something that while beautiful, not something a King or Queen has the luxury of having. I told you once that we needed to be practical and focus on our duties and I remain behind that, but-" whatever remained of the high king's speech was cut when he caught sight of the look in the high queen's eyes.
Never before had Peter seen his sister look at him with so much hate in her eyes. The blue of her eyes rolled and twisted with a wave of pained anger he struggled to look away from. "I was under the impression you had come to apologize not to patronize your queen," she snipped, collecting her items once more and rising from her seat.
"Susan, please do not le-"
"With your leave, my lord, I have important matters to attend to." and with that, she was gone, the harsh click of the door latch the only sounds filling the empty library.
On the other side of the wooden barrier, the High Queen slumped against the marble frame, a choked sob escaping her treacherous lips as trembling fingers wiped at the lone tear slipping down her cheek. How dare he, Susan thought bitterly, how dare he use her words against her.
"Your Majesty?" a voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
Startled, the High Queen straightened herself before turning to face whoever had addressed her with a practised look of calm on her face, "Yes?"
A young faun gave a low, quick, bow to her before speaking again. "I've been sent to inform you that the Fair Warrior is soon to touch port and that the King and Queen shall be arriving with their caravan in an hour's time."
The Queen nodded and thanked the faun, informing him to fetch her horse for her so that she could welcome her siblings when they reached land. "Will His Majesty, King Peter, be joining the party?" he inquired.
Susan shook her head. "No, I believe it would be best to leave the High King alone with his thoughts for now. I'll go and greet our brother and sister on my own," she assured with a smile. The faun nodded and once she was alone the High Queen picked up her skirts and made her way to the royal stables.
When the young King and Queen onboarded from their ship, they had been expecting both their siblings to be there. So when they were only greeted by their elder sister, the two became worried. Taking Susan's hands in her own Lucy quickly asked for the state of health of their brother.
"Sister, how is our King, please tell me everything is fair." Valiant Lucy's voice shook with worry.
With a shake of her head, the High Queen of Narnia pulled her sister in for a hug. "All is fair sister, worry not," she assured before pulling away to look closely at her. "Luce, are you ill? You seem rather pale, has been out so long at sea taken a toll on you?" she asked as she gently stroked her cheeks.
The younger Queen blushed and ducked her head, shying away from the High Queen's gaze, causing her to frown. "Lucy?"
"My Queen, I believe that this is a chat best reserved for a more private audience." Edmund interrupted their reunion with a pointed gaze around them.
The High Queen eyed the two with suspicion but nodded and gestured for their horses to be brought to them. "Very well, but you must tell me all about your voyage, surely you didn't spend it all stuck inside the cabin." she joked.
The regents had the decency to look ashamed.
The ride back to Cair Paravel was slow upon the Just King's insistence, arguing that he had missed the Narnian scene and wanted to enjoy the greenery. "I've been stuck on a ship for the last 8 weeks, my lady, I do believe I've earned the right to decide how fast we travel, will all my due respect," he said with a bow of his head. Though Edmund might be King, and Kings did have more power than Queens, a fact that remains the same in any land one travelled to, Susan was a High Queen of Narnia, the only person that had power over her, was The High King, Peter the Magnificent, and even he spoke to her with respect.
The Gentle Queen she might be, but no one liked to invoke her ire.
"Well, in that case, I hope you enjoy the view my Lord because I am sure that once we arrive at Cair Paravel our royal brother will not allow you a reprieve for some time." the Gentle Queen warned. "I think it would be fair for you to know that our King has received word that things have been kept from him, and whilst our brother doesn't seem to be upset at the moment, it would be safe to expect some sort of manifestation of his frustrations."
The young king and queen shared a wary glance and a small nod. "My Queen, there is something we wish to tell you," Edmund spoke as he made Philip, his horse, gallop closer to his Queen and took her hand in his.
"I know brother, I think I've known all along and just never allowed myself to admit." true to her title, Susan the Gentle, gave her siblings the warmest smile, one they had not expected before she continued. "I'm glad you've both found happiness."
"You're not mad Your Majesty?" the younger Queen asked in gleeful wonder. "Truly?"
Susan shook her head. "I could never be mad at you, either of you," she assured as she looked at them. "I am however very much offended to have not been invited to the wedding. Peter, I understand, but myself?" frowned at the two regents.
"Pardon us my lady, but we did not think either of you would have approved, we thought it would have been better to argue your forgiveness than have to beg your permission," she replied with a cheeky grin.
Susan smiled at her siblings again. "You don't need my forgiveness, not when I'm so proud of both of you for being able to find happiness," she assured again, her smile bright to hide the hurt she felt when her heart clenched in longing. "However, I'm afraid that Peter does not see things the same way if his reaction to the news was anything to go by," she warned.
Edmund's expression hardened. "Then he is a fool, and we shall make him see reason." he proclaimed.
A sad shadow ghosted over the High Queen's face, her expression drowning in what could only be described as a look of utterly defeated resignation, as she turned forward. "I hope you succeed, My Lord, for all of our sakes," she whispered, her words carried by the wind.
And as they approached Cair Paravel, a weight settled over her heart. The weight only grew heavier when met with the cold indifference the High King received them with.
He had met them at the gates, as was their custom when either one of them was unable to greet the others at the port, but his welcome was everything but warm. His eyes would not lock with any of theirs, and a heavy tension fell over the four siblings.
Growing tired of his poor attitude, the High Queen gripped Peter's arm and turned him to face her, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Stop acting like a child, and behave like the king you are supposed to be. These are our siblings and I shall not have you spoil their happiness. You will fall in line and treat them, treat all of us, with the respect we deserve regardless of how you feel about who it is we love." she hissed.
The High Kings' eyes narrowed and prepared to snap at the High Queen for her lip only for her to turn her back to him and walk away, leaving him to simmer in his own thoughts.
Peter used to think that he was unable to remain upset with his siblings for long. But now, as he watched his two youngest siblings share open looks of devotion with each other a cold unfamiliar fury washed over him. Having to watch Edmund share affectionate touches with their youngest sister had Peter nearly frothing at the mouth.
The last straw was drawn at the dinner table. The High Queen has organized a celebratory dinner to honour the marriage between the two regents, a dinner the high king was forced to attend to avoid winning the ire of one sister and hurting the feelings of the other. Peter had every intention of declining the invitation to the meal, but the pleading look his gentle queen sent his way had him sighing in defeat. He never could quite deny her anything.
So the High King had dressed in fine silks and heavy furs and joined his siblings for dinner. Things were amicable enough, and for the briefest of moments, Peter had allowed himself to forget why it was he was even upset with his siblings in the first place. Seeing Lucy's face light up with a smile and hearing her laugh breathlessly at anything and everything had lifted a weight the high king was not aware he had been holding off his shoulders.
The sight of both of his siblings so blissfully happy had Peter wanting to be happy for them. Had perhaps the events that followed not occurred.
They were nearing the end of the meal when the high queen remarked on the fact that the young queen regent had yet to take a sip from her wine goblet at all that evening. The high king watched the young regent blush prettily, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when king Edmund reached a hand across and enveloped her hand in his in support.
They said nothing, but they did not have to. Their brief interaction had been an answer in itself if the high queen's delighted gasp was anything to go by. The three did not appear to notice his lack of enthusiasm in regards to the unspoken news, or worse, they perhaps had noticed and decided to ignore his obvious opposition on the matter.
This was something the high king would not stand for.
Slamming his fist on the table, he felt only the slightest twinge of guilt at their sudden startled expressions. "How can you be so calm about such a matter?" he demanded, his eyes boring into each of his siblings. "Does it not matter to you that what the two of you have done is nothing more than an a-"
"For the love and respect I have for you Peter, you will not complete your statement." the high queen spoke, her tone firm and leaving no room for argument.
"No sister, let our brother tell his part, I am sure he has much to say about the situation Queen Lucy and I find ourselves in." Edmund bit, his eyes boring challengingly into the high king.
"Edmund, that's enough," Lucy hissed, her hand gripping her husband's in an attempt to calm his rising ire.
"No my love, let him say his part, I am sure our high king has -"
"It is incest!" Peter bellowed.
"That term means nothing in this land, and you know it!" Edmund defended.
"Perhaps not the land, but you and I know very well that where we have come from the word comes with a burden, one I will not allow anyone in this family to shoulder," Peter said, his tone final.
Edmund scoffed. "That might have been the case once brother, but you and I both know that the laws of Narnia and the laws of the land of man are not one and the same." he tried reasoning. "It is not in the Narnian's nature to question the being of one's affection.
"I care not for the laws of Narnian nature!" he had exploded, his fist slammed on the table, causing poor Lucy to flinch and to reach out to find comfort in her husband's arms, causing Peter to become even more enraged. "The two of you disgust me, I'm glad our mother and father are both probably dead by now, so they don't have to see the two of you -"
"Peter," the high queen warned.
The high king remained silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Your marriage is null, as neither the high queen nor I were present at the affair." he nodded, ignoring the look of fear that ghosted his youngest sister's face. "I will contact the record keeper and have them draw up an annulment."
"With all due respect, your majesty, that is not your choice to make." the High Queen said tersely.
The high king turned to glare at his counterpart, his eyes narrowing at her. Off all the times to openly defy him, she had to choose this moment. "This is not a matter that concerns you, your grace, it would be best if you-"
"If his grace knows what is good for his being, he will never silence my voice again," Susan stated in a clipped tone as she calmly set her napkin beside her half-finished meal before turning to face him with a look Peter could not describe. It was a look filled with so much raw emotion it left his head spinning. Suddenly he was only all too aware of the line he had just crossed, and the warning hidden in his sister's words.
"You say it does not concern her brother," Edmund said slowly, calculating.
The High King and Queen turned their attention to the young king regent, unsure if they should allow him to continue.
"That is because it does not," Peter replied, ignoring the way Susan's nostrils flared.
"Then you are both a fool and a coward," Edmund stated.
Affronted, the high king demanded why the young king would say such things to him.
"Because everyone in this castle has known the only reason the high queen has not married, is that you cannot bear the thought of handing her over to another. Anyone who has ever spent a moment of their time in both of your presences can tell, without a doubt, that the two of you are in love. You are just too much of a bloody coward to admit to it." he taunted.
In the blink of an eye, the high king had crossed the table and had the younger king on the floor staring at him in shock. Peter could not believe what he had done, but the rush that the delivered blow had left him with had his blood crying out for more.
"Peter!" Susan had snapped, looking every bit as vicious as she was capable of being, her whole body trembling with obvious rage. Oh yes, the gentle and understanding queen she was, but in the midst of battle or confrontation, she was a force to be reckoned with all on her own. "High King you might be, but if you dare lay another hand on our brother again, so help me, I will make you rue," she swore.
There was a long minute of silence in which everyone waited for Peter's reaction. No one dared to even breath. The regents expected for the High King to blow up at the High Queen's audacity to threaten him, the High Queen was challenging him to do so.
Clenching his fists, Peter allowed himself a moment to take in the sight before him before he turned on his heel and stormed away from his family and headed directly to his chambers, where he remained holed up inside for months. For days, he refused to see his siblings, dismissing them at the door. After weeks of this, they eventually stopped coming.
They thought him selfish. They thought him a coward.
They were not wrong.
Soon, in the eyes of the King and Queens of Narnia, Peter the Magnificent was but a pretender. Not because of anything he did, but because of all the things he wasn't.