Prompt #6: This one is deliberately meant to be more open-ended, for you to interpret the prompt however you wish to.
Poem prompt:
Words! book-words! what are you?
Words no more, for hearken and see,
My song is there in the open air—and I must sing,
With the banner and pennant a-flapping.
~Walt Whitman
† Nazeen †
The cheetah had a proud and lofty blood.
She was the daughter of King Saheeb and Queen Zareenah of the Talking Beasts of Calormen, and she was treated like it. She was pampered and groomed and praised at every turn. The other she-cheetahs would sing her praises and call her beautiful and offer to file her claws, and all she had to do was trot about and give the males a tempting eye. She would read and study before going to sleep, learning about the wonders of her empire, and she would dream of the glories of Calormen and the evils of the barbarian North, then wake up saying to herself: What a glory to be a princess!
One day, the Narnians came to Tashbaan, and she had wandered off to get as far away from them as possible. But by happenstance, she heard them talking. The barbarian queen Susan was supposed to marry the glorious Prince Rabadash, but she refused. And now, she and her entourage (and her barbarian brother, Edmund) were planning to flee.
And Nazeen did the only thing a cheetah princess of Calormen could do: go home and think nothing more of it.
Two days later, after a breakfast fit for a queen, King Saheeb gave her the news: Rabadash and his men were setting out for Narnia and the North. As soon as Nazeen heard those words, she knew she was supposed to smile and rejoice, but then her father sang an ancient song:
O lands of Talking Beasts and demon cats,
Look upon our scimitars and despair!
For the world and all its wealth are ours to take,
And none shall be earned without your blood.
Nazeen read that poem a thousand times before, and now she could recite it in her dreams (which she had). But hearing it from her father made it seem horrible, and hearing it sung about Queen Susan was even worse. How could this be? How could the barbarians make her feel pity?
Well, whatever the cause, it was of no concern to her. So she did the only thing she could do: go home and think nothing more of it.
But she did think of it. She thought of it every day. The warrior who wrote that poem lived up to his own words, for the poem was the embodiment of everything he was. And the more she heard about the warriors' adventures and pillagings, and the more she heard King Saheeb boasting of his own killings, the more she realized that the poem embodied everything Calormen was.
Alas, Queen Zareenah kept telling her to act like a princess and praise the men's valorous deeds; if she didn't, the gods would take away her crown and reduce her to a base birth. And so Nazeen was the daughter of King Saheeb and Queen Zareenah of the Talking Beasts of Calormen. She was pampered and groomed and praised at every turn during the day, and she would read and study before going to sleep, and she would dream of the glories of Calormen and the evils of the barbarian North, then wake up and say to herself:
I have to leave.
Two years later, she was an Archenlander, and all she ever got was pampered and groomed. Even now she was the daughter of King Saheeb and Queen Zareenah of the Talking Beasts of Calormen—but unlike them, she was gentle and kind and honest, and everyone in the North loved her. The few male cheetahs who visited from Narnia wanted to gaze at her while she spoke, and all worked up the courage to ask her to a ball. "I've never met foreign royalty before," they'd say. "You're even more beautiful than I ever dreamed!" But then she remembered she was the daughter of King Saheeb and Queen Zareenah, and she would say:
"Good Sir, I'm of Calormene blood. I come from a line of murderers and liars. I have nothing noble to boast about, nor any strength or wits that are worthy of you. You are of a noble and proud nation; your people are great, and better yet, they are good. You deserve a good woman all the days of your life; you shouldn't have me."
Whenever she turned away, she would say to herself, "Archenland shouldn't have me, either."
Today was 21 October, and King Peridan was in Narnia waiting to be coronated. King Lune and Princes Cor and Corin, and the horses Bree and Hwin, and all their friends and kin set out for Cair Paravel that morning. However, an unlucky few had to stay behind and watch the castle; with the upheaval in Narnia spreading across the North, King Lune thought someone might be daft enough to try to take Anvard. That's when Nazeen saw her chance to stay behind; after all, who would miss the dull company of a miserable cheetah? So she took up position at the northern gates, receiving the eternal thanks of the guard she replaced.
The other guards looked at her in bewilderment. How could a princess refuse to go to a coronation? But she already told them. Everyone heard her story a thousand times before. Twelve years ago, her elder brother left Calormen and became a warrior in the Far South, and after many years of training and toiling, he slew two hundred Calormene humans with the help of none. She wanted to be like Haroshta; she wanted to be worthy of her royal blood. She didn't want to go to balls or coronations and be waited on at every turn; she wanted a fight. Her human mistress wouldn't let her risk her life in the treacherous games of the male sex. Men were men, and men did war, and that was the way the world turned.
Late that night, an eagle flew in from Narnia.
"There's been an attack," he said in a teary voice. "King Peridan was poisoned at his banquet...He's dead..."
"Who did this?" said Nazeen. "Who's responsible for this?"
The eagle let out a soft sob. "Juma...one of King Peter's courtiers...he's leading Narnia for Narnians...he's betrayed everyone..."
"Where is he?"
"We can't find him...we need help...we need someone else...who's swift of foot..."
Nothing more needed to be said. Nazeen went up on all fours, and with her royal blood brimming with power and anger, she lifted her head and said solemnly:
"Take me there."