An: I'm thinking that this will probably be the second last chapter of Peter, Magnificent One, and Edmund the Dazed. Interest seems to be waning, and I'm not sure if my heart is in it anymore. ( I'm kinda on the down side at the moment and can't seem to write anything humorous). My thanks go to all those who have so kindly reviewed. You guys (and girls) are great!

And yes, this is another chapter revolving around Susan's face. The temptation was just too strong. :)

Disclaimer: Not mine. It all belongs to Lewis.

Susan was slumped - yes, slumped - in her throne, staring in slight bewilderment at the little man before her, who was gesticulating wildly. Peter, Edmund, and Lucy, sitting rigidly in their respective thrones, stared solemnly at the floor, trying to hide the glee they felt at their sister's embarrassment.

" Oh, Majesty," the little man said, falling to one knee, " the fame of your beauty has spread far. Now that I see your loveliness, I know that you have captured my heart. Your eyes, which sparkle like the morning dew, are so lovely, so tender, so kind, that I know I will remember them always as a beacon with which to guide my life."

Peter smirked. Edmund sniggered. Lucy giggled. The man continued, unabashed.

" Fair Damsel, your nose is like-"

Great, thought Susan sarcastically. Now he's complimenting my nose.

" Like the petal of a lily just opened to the sun."

Is it my fault if it's a little sunburnt ?

" Like a pearl faintly tinted with the faint blush of a rose. Like a snowflake that has felt the gentle touch of fire."

Poetic words and I'm sure they're meant to be flattering. I just wish he'd make more sense.

" Your lips, Oh Queen, are - "

The poor noble got no further. At the mention of Susan's lips, Peter started violently from his throne, bounded from the dais, seized the unhappy man by the scruff of his neck and dragged him from the room.

Edmund sniggered again.

" That's one way to dismiss a suitor," he said. " Is that the fifth or sixth time he's done it this week?"

" Seventh," groaned Susan, slumping even further into her throne. " I know they're a hassle, but he could at least let them finish."

" Well, you know Peter," comforted Lucy, putting an arm around her sister. " Once they mention anything he deems inappropriate, out they go. He's just looking out for you, Su."

" I know, but does he always have to be so overprotective?" Susan asked, rather rebelliously.

Before anyone could answer, Peter returned. He looked unabashedly pleased with himself.

" We won't be seeing him again," he chortled, straightening his crown which had slipped during the tussle.

" Peter," said Susan coldly, rising from her throne. " That wasn't kingly behaviour. You shouldn't have thrown him out. He didn't say anything."

" He was about to," countered Peter. " Slimy, horrible creature. I would have given him something to complain about if he said any more."

" Peter, " Susan began, then stopped, realising that she wasn't going to get anywhere with her stubborn brother. " Can you please let me handle my suitors?"

" And why should you be having any suitors in the first place?" Peter asked, ignoring the angry glance shot his way. " You're fourteen, for goodness sake!"

" It's different here, Peter!"

" I do hope you're not planning on getting married!" exclaimed her brother.

" Would it be any of your concern if I was?"

" Susan, as High King and your brother it would most definitely be my concern!"

" Peter! Why can't you let me handle it?"

" Because you can't!"

" I can, Peter!"

" You can't!"

Lucy and Edmund rose from their thrones and quietly left the room. If their older siblings were going to start throwing vases (again), they wanted no part of it. On silent feet, the two monarchs pattered into Edmund's study.

" Isn't it awful," Lucy said, collapsing into a chair. " I wish they'd stop this bickering. We never bicker!"

" No," said Edmund loftily. " We never bicker. Of course, there was the incident of the bacon you stole from under my nose last week. But that couldn't be called bickering. That was squabbling."

" Oh, yes," laughed Lucy. " And don't forget about the - er - quarrel we had last Tuesday. You know, the one about who splattered Peter with paint. I'm still positive it came from your brush."

" Pink is not Peter's colour," said Edmund, with a sly grin.

" And there was the disagreement over who had pulled the hairs from Orieus' tail," Lucy continued.

" Six hairs," said Edmund, with another grin. " But I tell you - it wasn't me!"

" But," said Lucy, returning to the matter at hand, " we do not bicker!"

" Shocking, isn't it?" said Edmund. " Peter and Susan should be setting us an example."

Crash!

" There goes another vase," he added.

Lucy rose from her chair and slammed the door. Returning to her chair, she placed her head in her hands and gazed thoughtfully at her brother.

" Edmund," she said, after a considerable pause had elapsed. " What should we do?"

" Do?" Edmund asked, puzzled. " Nothing. They're just fighting."

" No, no," said Lucy, leaning forward conspiratorially. " I meant about the suitors."

" Oh." The monosyllable was eloquent. Two heads, black and brown, came together. The sound of whispering and, sad to say, snickering filled the air.

" Do you think it will work?" Lucy said, when the whispering had stopped.

" Definitely," Edmund said, with a look of glee. He cracked his knuckles happily. "You just watch."

Dinner was a silent affair. Peter and Susan were not on speaking terms and spent the majority of their time either staring into their soup, or casting puzzled glances at the mirthful faces of their younger siblings.

" What's wrong with you?" A suspicious Susan asked.

" Nothing," was the oh-too-innocent reply. Edmund excused himself soon after and strode - ran - to his chambers. Lucy, after waiting five minutes, followed his example.

" What's wrong with them?" Susan asked, breaking her self-imposed vow never to speak to Peter again.

" I don't know," answered Peter thoughtfully, glad that his sister had recovered from her mood. " They've been acting strangely all evening."

" What have they been doing?"

" Oh, you know. Whispering, giggling. They said they were planning something."

" Oh? Like what?"

" A surprise," said gullible Peter.

Susan, although still suspicious, let the matter drop.

Let us now turn to Edmund and Lucy, who are in the Just king's study, looking for a bottle of ink. Red ink.

" It has to be here somewhere," Edmund exclaimed. " I'll keep looking. Why don't you go to Su's room and - you know."

" Alright!" Lucy said, turning on her heel. " Is there a new batch of suitors coming?" she added.

" Yes. They'll be here bright and early. Now go!"

" Very well." Lucy darted from the room, closing the door carefully behind her.

She ran down the passage and tried Susan's door. Darn it - locked. Reaching into her left braid she pulled out a hair-pin.

Click. The door swung open.

Stumbling slightly in the darkness, Lucy found what she was looking for and lifted it off the wall. Stumbling again, this time under the object's weight, she staggered from the room and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her into her own chamber. Thank goodness it wasn't very far!

She placed the object in her cupboard and draped a dress over it. Breathing hard and feeling rather wicked, she collapsed onto the bed. Now, if Ed would only find that ink the plan would be set. The little queen dropped into sleep.

" Lucy! Lucy!" Susan's voice and quiet tapping sounded from the door. " Are you awake, dear?"

Lucy started up, her conscience pricking dreadfully. Daylight streamed in through her window. Biting her nether lip, she opened the door cautiously and - laughed.

" Wha - what is it, Susan?" Snicker. Snort.

" What's the matter with you?" Susan asked, staring at her sister as though she had grown two heads.

" No - nothing. What do you want?"

" You're wanted in the throne room. More of those suitors have arrived and Peter wants us all there. Edmund told me."

" Oh."

" Well, come on then. Get dressed." Susan said impatiently, ushering her sister back into her room. " I'll just use your mirror," she added. " I think my maid wanted to dust mine. It's missing."

" No, Susan!" exclaimed Lucy, panicking slightly. " You - you look fine!"

" I'd prefer seeing for myself, Lu."

" Don't you believe me?" quavered Lucy, sniffing slightly.

" What's gotten into you?"

" Nothing. Nothing. I just want to get dressed. Wait outside." Lucy pushed - yes, pushed - her sister from the room and sunk into a giggling heap at the door. Edmund had done his job well - perhaps a little too well. Lucy just hoped it would wash off.

Getting dressed quickly, the youngest queen joined her sister at the door. Together they swept into the throne room, Susan wondering all the while why the palace servants were looking at her so strangely. They seated themselves on their thrones and bowed to their brothers.

Peter gasped.

" Su!" he cried. " What have you - "

" Hush, Peter," a naughty Edmund hissed, nudging his brother in the ribs. " Here are the suitors."

The first suitor pressed forward, head lowered, his hand pressed to his heart. He fell to his knees in a humble form of obeisance and dared to lift his eyes to the divine countenance of the Gentle Queen.

" Oh Fair - " the words died on his lips as he stared at Susan with a sort of morbid fascination.

" Skin disease!" he shrieked, starting to his feet. Obviously the people in Narnia and beyond have no idea what acne is. He only saw the large, red spots covering Susan's face and went into panic mode. " Skin disease!" The other suitors took up the cry and dashed from the room.

" What?" A paling Susan cried, turning to her brother. " What are they talking about? "

" Your face, Su," Peter said. " It's covered in red spots. Are you having an allergic reaction? Is it -" he paused - " pimples?"

" Get me a mirror," Susan commanded a servant, who was staring in unconcealed astonishment at his queen.

The mirror procured, Susan stared at her reflection. Her face grew dark.

" Edmund. Lucy." The tone was dangerously low.

" Yes, Susan?" a subdued Edmund and Lucy asked meekly.

" I don't suppose you know how this happened?"

" Well, the suitors wouldn't let you alone," Edmund began.

" And this is your answer? They'll never come within a ten kilometre radius now!"

" Good," muttered Peter.

" Look at me," Susan continued, tearing up. " Look at my face! Does it wash off?"

Edmund gulped, realising the flaw in his master plan.

" Oh, Ed!"

Susan was inconsolable for the next week, refusing to see anyone - especially Lucy and Edmund. At the end of the week, however, a wise old woman (some say she was half dwarf) came by the castle with a host of medicines and cures. She cured the queens face, earning the eternal gratitude of that relieved damsel, and went on her way.

Edmund and Lucy's punishment was harsh (and deservedly so). Washing the Palace from dungeon to turret is not an enviable job, especially when the palace servants are having a day off. Ink was banned and a new lock was fitted to Susan's door - it was Lucy proof.

Susan did not receive any suitors for the next two years, until the rumours of skin disease had been replaced by tales of her beauty. Peter, for one, was glad of the respite, and spent that year polishing up his swordsmanship for the time when he would have to use it once more on unwanted and infatuated youths.

Life at Cair Paravel returned to normal - well, as normal as it can be with Lucy and Edmund within its walls.