A/N: This story was inspired by, and is hence dedicated to, rooty-boots, my awesome friend and the Susan in my life. The idea hit me the other night because of her, and also because Peter and Edmund seem to have all the fun. Now they'll get to see what it's like to stay home. Review away, people--you know I love your comments, even if they're constructive criticism. It just means you care.
The Queens' Adventure
The three monarchs stood on the terrace of the palace, watching closely as the procession snaked away from the castle and over the hill. Peter stood tall and formidable, while Edmund and Lucy were a step behind him, Edmund trying to appear impassive and Lucy biting her lip.
Peter looked at the parting cortege with a frown. "Well, that's over. Thank goodness."
Edmund raised his eyebrows and turned away without saying anything.
"Why isn't Susan here to say goodbye?" Lucy asked.
"I thought it was best if she wasn't. The prince doesn't deserve that honor," Peter answered darkly.
Edmund backed away a little, but Lucy clucked her tongue. "You don't think there's anyone in the world who deserves that honor. Susan's very kind and very polite. I'm sure she would have liked to say goodbye. It would have made her feel better about saying no."
"Be that as it may, he's gone now," Peter said. "And everything can go back to normal."
Lucy didn't think so, though, and she could tell from Edmund's expression and Peter's tone of voice that neither of them really believed what Peter was saying either. The prince had been the first serious threat to their peace as a foursome, even though there had been at least a score of offers for Susan's hand. The reality of losing Susan to some foreign prince had seemed very real for awhile, and the notion shook all three of them, even though, as Edmund put it "he was a decent enough fellow."
"I'm going to take her some tea and toast," Lucy announced, and excused herself from the balcony. She went down to the kitchens and had the cooks fix up a tray which she carried up herself. She knocked lightly with her elbow, as her hands were full. "Susan?" she called softly. "I've brought you some tea."
She distinctly heard Susan sniff on the other side of the door. "Thank you, Lucy, but I don't really want any tea. I'm feeling rather tired; I'd just like to be alone if you don't mind."
On the hall side of the door, Lucy rolled her eyes. She should have known to expect this. "Susan, let me in. I've already got the tray, and it's heavy." She borrowed a trick from Edmund, knowing that appealing to her sister's unwillingness to put anyone out would gain her entry. Really the tray wasn't very heavy at all.
She heard some scuffling, and a moment later, Susan opened the door. Lucy held the tray high and marched past her. "Now," she said, arranging the cups and saucers in a businesslike manner, "Would you like marmalade on your toast or just butter?"
"Lucy," Susan protested, "I told you I don't want anything. Thank you, though."
"After all the trouble they went through to make this? I had the cooks stop in their preparations for the staff's meal." Lucy shot a sly look at Susan.
"Well, I would hate to think of them wasting their time…" Susan said. "Perhaps just a cup of tea."
Lucy allowed herself a very small smile of victor as she buttered some toast for her sister. "You really ought to eat, too. You haven't had anything all morning, and Edmund said he's worried."
Susan laughed a little. "Now, Lucy! Do you really think I don't know what you're doing? You can't guilt me into doing everything."
Lucy looked slightly abashed. The plan had been going so well. She supposed that was the trouble with borrowing ideas from Edmund. He was a lot more subtle than she was; he knew exactly how far and how hard to push. She was far too forthright to ever be able to hide her real purpose. She took a bite of toast with some resignation.
"Well, I didn't say I wouldn't have any," Susan protested.
Here was some inadvertent success. Lucy grinned even though her mouth was full, and she buttered a second slice of toast. She passed this off to Susan and made an essay at conversation. "Did Peter really tell you not to come and say goodbye to Prince Ronan?"
"He…suggested it," Susan said vaguely. Her expression remained closed as she took a delicate bite of toast.
"Are you sorry to see him go?"
"I don't really feel like talking about it," Susan deflected.
"Come on, Su. Surely you can talk to me?"
"You don't know much about these matters, dear, and I'd rather keep it that way," she said in a motherly tone.
Lucy pressed her lips together and exhaled through her nostrils. She decided, however, that Susan was upset so she would allow her to be a little condescending. In truth, Lucy felt herself perfectly capable of understanding such matters, having seen Susan grapple with and fend off a fair number of suitors already. She cast about for another way to get Susan to open up. "How do you think Peter felt about him? He never tells me anything."
Susan's gaze drifted out the window. "Oddly, Peter seemed to like him better than most of the others."
Lucy smirked. "That's really not saying much." Susan awarded this comment a smile. "And you?" Lucy pressed.
"I don't know…I suppose I feel the same as Peter. He's better than the others." She started to fiddle with the bracelets on her wrist, all presents from former suitors. Looking at them seemed to open her up. "He was nice enough, certainly. His manners were good and he was very kind to me. I liked the way he spoke of you and Edmund and Peter—he respected the boys and he liked you." She knit her brows together. "That is more than I can say for some of the others."
"He was as good looking as some of the others," Lucy suggested.
"Do you think so? Yes, I suppose he was. He was very safe. And he was very sorry indeed to go." She sighed, and tears pricked her eyes. "I don't know why I'm so fussy. I would have had a very nice life with him."
"You keep saying nice as if that's all you could ask for," Lucy observed.
Susan looked at her keenly. "Isn't it?"
"Hardly!" Susan was staring, so Lucy explained. "You're a queen, Susan. You made Narnia happy—"
"Not I," she interrupted. "That's yours and Ed's and Peter's doing. I'm just…along for the ride."
Lucy rolled her eyes and continued as if Susan hadn't said anything. "You made Narnia happy, and you deserve the same. Anyway, if you weren't happy I think that would affect a lot here."
Susan laughed, but it sounded a little false. "You exaggerate my importance."
"I most certainly do not! Think about what Peter would be like if he knew you weren't happy. Why, when he's worried about you, or any of us really, he's a positive stormcloud. And when he's like that, the whole castle, nay, the whole kingdom, is afraid of him, though everyone knows he would never do anything cruel. Then there's Edmund. Don't you notice every time a suitor comes he goes off food? It's the only thing that affects him like that—he's very anxious for your happiness. Really, Susan, you have a duty to be happy."
Susan kissed her earnest sister on the cheek. "That's sweet of you to say," she said, her lips trembling with emotion.
"Well, I'm not just saying it," Lucy replied. "Even though he was nice, I'm glad you didn't accept. You didn't really love him."
"No," Susan sighed. "Not really. I wish I could have, though."
"You can't wish yourself in love," Lucy observed practically, polishing off the last of her toast. "It doesn't work like that."
Susan put her toast down absently and gazed out the window with a very sad expression.
"Cheer up, Susan, hey?" Lucy said softly, touching her sister's arm. "I hate to see you like this."
Susan sniffed and brushed her eyes. She forced a smile. "I'm alright, really."
Lucy pursed her lips. "You're not, and we're going to do something about it. You know what I think? I think you need to go on holiday."
"On holiday!" her sister returned with a little laugh. "Queens don't go on holiday!"
"They certainly could—we certainly could. Let's go! We can ride west, to your castle near Lionsheath, or we can sail east to the Lone Islands…Think how lovely it would be, to ride and ride with your cloak whipping behind you, or breathing the salty sea air. You could get away from all the worries of the castle. No suitors, no diplomacy, no trouble. Wouldn't it be wonderful?"
"It would. But we can't just leave. Who would watch over Narnia while we were away?"
Lucy grinned slyly. "I didn't say the boys could come. Let's you and I go alone. We'll leave them here at the castle and give them a taste of their own medicine when they ride off to battle and leave us behind."
"You know that's different," Susan admonished. "They go because they must. Peter has told us both many times how much he'd rather stay at home."
"And you believe him? He likes it. At least part of him does."
Susan gave her sister a small smile. She was greatly comforted by the idea that she understood something about Peter which Lucy did not. Having her brother's confidence gave her a little faith in herself.
"Either way," Lucy continued decidedly, "The boys can keep the castle for once. I think it will be good for them. Meanwhile, you and I can go out and have an adventure." She saw Susan open her mouth and cut her off. "And don't go saying that you're not made for adventure. It's just plain not true. Besides, think of the fun we could have together. We so rarely get to do anything."
"It might be nice…" Susan said uncertainly.
"Excellent," Lucy spoke decisively. "Shall we ride west or sail east, then?"
Her sister smiled. She didn't say how grateful she was for Lucy's care and comfort, which always managed to make her feel better in spite of herself. "Perhaps we could ride? I would like to go to Lionsheath."
"I was hoping you'd say that!" Lucy cried, though in reality it was all one to her. "Have the maids pack your bags. We'll leave tomorrow morning." She picked up the tray and rose to begin the preparations.
"But Lucy," Susan protested one last time, "What will the boys say?"
"Don't worry. I'll manage them," Lucy answered. She turned on her heel and left with brisk strides.
Susan was smiling as she watched her sister leaves. "That's exactly why I wonder what they'll say," she murmured.
Downstairs in the war rooms, Peter and Edmund had just finished hearing the reports from the armies in the North. The giants were quiet, and Peter was moderately pleased. He was discussing the possibility of fortifying their positions with Edmund when Lucy strode in. Both of them turned to her at once; Edmund raised his eyebrows.
"I just wanted to let you know," she said, sticking her nose in the air just a little bit, "That Susan and I have decided to take a trip. We're leaving tomorrow, and you're to stay here in the castle."
Peter grinned. "Oh, are we?"
"Yes. We're going to Lionsheath, and someone has to stay here and watch over things. It might as well be you two."
"Now hold on," Edmund objected. "Supposing we want to come along?"
"Well, you can't. You're not invited."
"Hmph! Of all the cheek," he frowned.
Peter was chuckling by now. "Apparently we can't stop you. But you'll take a guard at least?"
"Of course we'll take a guard. Pick them yourself if you like. But we're leaving tomorrow morning, so they'd better be ready." She grinned at him and came over to put her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Peter. I really think Susan needs this."
He hugged her back. "I think so too."
Lucy let go and started to move toward Edmund, but he shied away. "Yes, yes, you're grateful and all that. I understand. No need for all that." Peter and Lucy laughed brightly.
And so early the next morning Peter and Edmund stood on the castle steps while Lucy and Susan bustled around the courtyard. Lucy inspected the horses and the guard carefully, tightening buckles and giving orders here and there. Whether the imitation was conscious or not, she looked and sounded very much like Peter as she moved about.
Susan came up to Peter and remarked on this. "You're teaching our sister well," she said.
Peter chuckled a little. "Evidently. I think you'll be in good hands, then."
She smiled. "It's good of her to take me on this trip. Very sweet."
"And you know she wouldn't be happy unless you thoroughly enjoyed yourself," he replied. "Nor would I. I must confess, I've been worried about you."
"There's nothing to worry—" Susan began to dismiss his concerns, but when she saw the grave look in his eyes, she stopped. "I'll be alright, really. I rather think Lucy's right. I just need a holiday."
Peter kissed her on the cheek. "Then take one, and come back to us cheerful and refreshed. And don't forget to write."
Susan smiled at him softly and turned to hug Edmund, who was gracious enough to make only a small noise of protest. Lucy came over to hug her brothers and bustle Susan along, and together the girls started down the steps. "Oughtn't I be singing?" Peter teased with a grin.
"You know the words." Susan tried to be cheerful, but she was really too touched, for even as she spoke she heard him singing the old parting song she always sang him off with in his low, resonant voice. Lucy tugged on her hand to coax her the rest of the way down the steps, and she swung up onto her horse. Her horn was at her hip and her bow on her back, and even before they were through the gates Susan couldn't help thinking that Lucy had the right idea.
