Hey guys!
Chapter 6 is finally here! I'm really excited about this one, because it's one in which I introduce new characters and the one in which the plot really begins. Also, this is my first time really working with the calormene culture as a main topic so I'm really eager to continue with this story!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of this.
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Chapter 6. "Kings and Queens."
The training grounds of Tashbaan were completely coated with dust as the different pairs fought under the ardent sun.
Separated only by a thick wall with the lavish gardens of the Calormene royal palace, it seemed as if it was a world away, the peaceful serenity of the green foliage a wild contrast to the exhausted grunts and the smell of sweat predominant just besides it.
If one had to describe the calormen traditions when it came to war, one couldn't do a fine job without mentioning their preference for beautifully adorned attires and weapons. Of course, the matter of practicality must rule when it comes to war but there was also the matter of ostentation, which becomes more important the higher the social status. After all, Calormen was a rich empire with a scrumptious culture and vivid traditions. It only made sense for its people to display that beauty in their attires.
Tashbaan's royal training grounds were a place reserved for the Princes of Calormen, the highest-ranking generals and other members of the Calormene aristocracy. As such, while the men gracefully training wore light cotton shirts and loose pants at most - choosing to fight sans shirt in some cases -, the jewels in the hilts of their scimitars glimmered lightly against the intense sunlight and their bright clothes and armours, discarded across the perimeter of the grounds, provided a reference of the importance they all had in the Calormene society.
One figure stood out from the others. Long, raven hair fell down their back in natural waves, artistically braided, golden threads interwoven in them, the latter matching their dark skin perfectly. Their armour was outstanding, leather and gold making a striking pair. Their stance was straight and strong, immobile even as the pairs continued to block, parry and strike around them.
And their eyes, obsidian, seemed to get darker the longer they fell to recognize their pupil amidst the crowd.
"General!" an exclamation suddenly reached their ears, the owner of that voice sounding as if they had run a long way to make it there.
"You're late," the General replied, their voice even and bored. Their eyes never left the crowd before them.
"I know, I know," was the reply as the owner of that voice - a young, tall man wearing a hastily fastened armour -, stood besides the General. Their eyes were downwards as they struggled to fasten the metallic vambraces before the General would notice. "My philosophy' lesson ran longer than normal."
"While philosophy will grant you with an open mind," the General replied as neutral as ever, "what I'm teaching you will be far more useful if you are to be a great Tisroc one day, Your Highness."
"I know. And, believe me, I would rather train all day than listen to my tutor drawn on and on about the poets and philosophers of our history," the Prince replied. He dared direct a crooked smile in the General's direction. "Alas, my honourable father won't allow it."
"You forget, young Prince, that our culture has the highest of esteems for the poems and literature of Old," the General replied. Then, they finally set their gaze, its expression never changing, on the younger boy. "Just as you've forgotten an essential rule when it comes to fighting."
The Prince frowned with trepidation. "What is it?"
The General smirked. "Always watch your back."
The Prince could have never prevented what was to come. He didn't have the experience yet. In any case, in what seemed like one swift moment, the young boy found himself flat on his back, his lungs struggling to get used with the clash and the sudden intake of dust.
As his vision cleared, the dust he had risen fading away, he noticed a slender hand extended right towards him.
"Thankfully," the General continued. "You have the best trainer in the world."
Prince Geon snorted as he took the offered hand, dusting his armour off before glaring at his mentor. "You have gotten way more arrogant since you became General, Katia, and that's saying something."
His tutor and best friend smirked before clasping her hand on his shoulder. "I missed you too, my friend. Shall we get on with it? Some of us actually have to work in order to make a living for ourselves."
Geon sighed exasperatedly but followed his best friend into the grounds anyways, ignoring those around him as they bowed to him.
The afternoons he managed to spend with Katia were ones in which he could forget he was Crown Prince and therefore, without a life he could make actual decisions on. Katia teased him mercilessly and was not afraid to defeat him most embarrassedly while they fought, but it was a banter he would take any day if it meant forgetting about the pressures of his daily routine. Everything Katia did, it was with a sense of trust and friendship he didn't sense from anyone else, so, while she was an utter annoyance, he was eternally grateful for her.
Now. If only he could defeat her just once.
oOo
A week after the feast, Susan found herself wandering around the courtyard of the Telmarine castle, her steps dangerously nearing the place her brother and sister had left through, back to England until they were ready to come back.
Her thoughts usually went back to them, regardless of the time she'd been in Narnia. As the days went by, it seemed as if she had finally been able to relax. Even after Aslan had confirmed that they weren't going back to England, Susan had still felt as if there was a sword hanging over her head. She knew that if the Great Lion said they were staying, then that's what would happen but still, she couldn't help but fear.
It wasn't a fear she shared with Caspian or Peter, though. She didn't want to worry them and, honestly, she was scared of making her worst nightmare become a reality if she dared to voice it outloud but still, she feared. Every night she lay wide awake on her double bed, her hearing anxiously alert for any sign that the Deep Magic would take her back, her eyes refusing to close even for a second. And then, when she did finally fall asleep, her nightmares would take her back to a place who diminished her and forced her to get rid of a large part of her identity.
As the novelty of having two Monarchs of Old living with them faded away, so did her fears. Her nightmares were still an occurrence but less usual as of late and the feeling they left when she woke up - the gasping for air, the clutching of her sheets as she looked wildly across her room, the hammering of her heart -, they were all defeated when she gathered her bearing and was reminded of her blissful situation.
She was in Narnia. She was allowed to live there for the rest of her life. She was with her brother and with her one true love. She was Queen Susan the Gentle, Archer Queen of Narnia, and she would never be asked to leave her people again.
She repeated all those facts to herself every time she woke up and, as if it were a mantra of sorts, covered her with infinite joy.
Her situation was from perfect, considering neither Edmund nor Lucy were there, but it was as perfect as it could be.
For now, it was enough.
Still, her heart still clenched with sadness everytime she remembered her little siblings. Had it been the other situation around, she knew she would have wanted Edmund and Lucy to choose their own happiness and stay in Narnia, rather than go back with her. More than that, she knew for a fact that they had accepted hers and Peter's decision.
Still, she couldn't help but wonder what did her choice make of her. She was an older sister, a girl forced to grow up too fast, a woman ready to do anything for her siblings. Throughout the many years since Edmund and later Lucy had been born, Susan had considered herself a great older sister. While they had to deal with the war, she had protected them as best as possible, often performing tasks their parents should have done, yet did not have the time or weren't even there to actually follow them through.
While in Narnia, her role had changed, but she had remained a protector of her siblings, even Peter. She was the one with the best council, the one with the calmest mind in times of struggle. She had never failed to perform what she saw as her tasks and, if she could judge by the way her siblings behaved with her, she didn't think she had ever failed them.
She wondered whether she'd failed Edmund and Lucy with her decision. Sure, just as anyone else, she was a human and therefore allowed to choose her own happiness. Choosing her own happiness had been the healthiest thing she'd done, but she couldn't help but feel guilty.
Just as she was Queen Susan the Gentle, she was also Susan Pevensie, older sister to Edmund and Lucy. What did it mean that, when she was needed by them, she had chosen to leave them?
Sure, she had chosen to stay in Narnia, she'd never chosen to leave them.
But, as hard as she tried, she couldn't fool herself.
She had never chosen that, but she'd always known what staying in Narnia meant.
By staying, she was to leave them.
And she had known that from the start.
Susan finally sat on the step leading up to the tree her siblings had walked through as they departed Narnia. Deliberately turning her back on it, she slowly arranged her crimson skirts around her, closing her eyes with a sigh as a gentle, reassuring breeze brushed through her raven locks.
Finally, she looked up with a serious gaze, a loving smile quickly breaking it as she noticed the young man walking towards her.
"The Generals just requested to reschedule the meeting we were supposed to have this afternoon," Caspian said as a way of greeting. He sat down beside her gracefully, kissing her temple before leaning back and resting his elbows on the floor. "That means we have the afternoon free. Would you join me for a ride through the forest?"
"I'd have to change but I'd love to," Susan smiled as their hands found one another. One of the things she loved the most about them was that they seemed to gravitate towards one another, never really conscious of it until they found themselves touching in some way or the other. "I could prepare a basket for us. Maybe have a picnic while we enjoy the temporary freedom?"
"That sounds like a marvellous idea, my love." Caspian's smile was infectious, yet it softened as he cocked his head inquisitively. "Are you alright?"
Susan smiled against her will. She should have known that she could have never fooled him. "I just keep thinking about Ed and Lu. I wonder how they are doing in England."
"I think they miss us just as much as we miss them," Caspian admitted as he embraced Susan tightly, allowing her to bury her face in his shirt, taking in his familiar and relaxing warmth. "But I think they will find the way to be okay until we are together again, just like we will be."
"It's different though. We've never been apart - Pete, Ed, Lu and I - but it's different," Susan argued softly, her voice muffled as she spoke against the soft linen. "Pete and I are at home. They are in England."
"Well, Aslan said they had to go back for a reason. Maybe it means that they have more of a home in England than you or Pete," Caspian shrugged before shaking his head and resting his head on Susan's. "In any case, I understand my love. I wish I could take your pain but I'm here. For anything you need. I'm not leaving you to deal with this alone."
Susan looked up at that, her eyes glistening with unshed tears but a smile widening in her lips. "Even if I become an insufferable git?"
Caspian laughed before kissing her soundly. "You could never be annoying. I promise to let you know if that changes, though."
"Smooth," Susan replied with a snort before hesitating. Then, she bit her lip. "Cas?"
Caspian nodded and kissed her forehead. "Yes?"
Susan's voice was small. "Do you think they will forgive me?"
Caspian sighed before pulling back to look into her eyes. "I think there is nothing to forgive. They love you completely. You love them in the same way. And if you are happy, they are happy. That's how it works."
Susan smiled. "Well, with fear of enlarging what I already know to be a big ego, I have to admit I'm incredibly happy."
Caspian merely kissed her in response, relief flooding his heart as he realized her blue eyes were once again merry.
oOo
Now, some readers might have been suspicious of Caspian's and Susan's interaction, for our world has taught us that when things seem to be going incredibly well, that's when the other shoe drops, and another problem arises.
And, because some things are the same regardless of the world, it happened that while Caspian and Susan were enjoying themselves in the courtyard, Peter sat alone in his study, his head buried in his hands.
It was only when two hesitant knocks resonated against his door that he looked up, his golden hair an unconquerable mess.
His voice was strained, stress already doing its work. "Come in."
Trumpkin's features were arranged into a scowl even as he entered the study and faced his King. "Your Majesty. I have come back with confirmation of the notice received earlier."
"Cut it out, Trumpkin. My name is Peter," the Magnificent King replied out of custom, for his focus was elsewhere. He stood from his seat, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. "And?"
Trumpkin's gaze seemed even more burdened. "It's true. The wand has disappeared and there's no trace of who might have taken it."
Cursing under his breath, Peter turned towards the window, which overlooked the courtyard Caspian and Susan were walking through. "Close the gates and double the guards. No one comes in or out until we confirm the wand has left the premises."
Trumpkin nodded with trepidation. "And if we can't find it?"
Peter gulped. "That wand is the only thing that may bring Narnia's worst enemy back to life. Narnia cannot rest easy until we've found it."
Trumpkin hesitated. "What about Queen Susan and High King Caspian?"
Peter looked down at his sister and friend as they walked slowly, seemingly too immersed in their own little world to notice anything else. He wished, more than anything, that he could allow them a moment in peace before their duties got in the way.
They deserved to be happy.
And, especially after everything they'd been through, they deserved peace.
Alas, they weren't normal citizens.
And this was the burden to being Kings and Queens.
"Tell them to meet me as soon as possible," Peter finally ordered, his voice guilty. "There is no time to waste."