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bantha_foddertitle: joining hands as nations
author: pen
fandom: the chronicles of narnia
disclaimer: these characters are owned by the estate of cs lewis. they like coming after people who write narnia, so shh.
this was originally for sloane. it's still for sloane, but it's been rewritten.
31/05/2005
*
The years passed quickly in Narnia, but the Pevensies had been Kings and Queens of Narnia for only three summers before Queen Susan received the first marriage proposal. The emissary came from the lands over the sea, and his horses and servants were laden down with gold and jewels and silk. Lucy ran her fingers over the mechanised toys, and turned to her eldest brother. "Can we keep them?" she asked, and behind her, Edmund laughed. King Peter shook his head, and bade her put the toys down.
Away from the court, Susan put her hand on Peter's arm. "I don't want to leave, Peter," she said. "I love Narnia too much."
"One day you might have to, royal sister," he said gently. "For Narnia."
"For Narnia," whispered Susan sadly. "But not today."
"Not today, sister," Peter said, and kissed her cheek as he brushed past her and out of the room.
King Peter rejected the emissary's offer during an audience the next morning, and, as is the way of emissaries, the emissary graciously departed in a whirl of perfumes and animals.
The next offer for the hand of Queen Susan arrived three weeks later. Seated on her throne, Susan looked beautiful and serene, but behind closed doors in the section of the castle where only the kings and queens slept, Susan's voice rose. "This must stop!" she said. "I shouldn't have to deal with this!" She paced through Peter's rooms, and her long black hair swung behind her.
"Susan." Peter stepped up behind her and softly grasped her shoulders. His voice had deepened over the years in Narnia, and was a sombre, comforting sound. "You will not leave Narnia today, nor tomorrow."
"And the day after?" she asked nervously, eyes on the empty fireplace.
"Not this year, Susan," he said. "But one year. For Narnia, dear sister," and Susan took a deep breath. For Narnia, but not yet. She was a queen of Narnia, and she could accept that.
Peter's hands tightened on Susan's shoulders. "Yes," she acknowledged him. "Thank you brother." She turned to face him and smiled. "For Narnia."
"You are a Queen of Narnia, Susan. You have responsibilities. We are not in London anymore." His voice was oddly formal as he spoke, and she looked up at him.
"I know," she said softly, and he kissed her forehead gently before pushing her out of his rooms.
"Now go to bed," he said. "You need your sleep." Susan frowned at him as he shut the door.
Queen Susan continued to receive proposals of marriage, but she was unsure of the exact number. The proposals were often sent to the High King Peter, a fact which upset her even as it reassured her. She did not want to be married to someone who could not propose to her directly, and so knew she could reject those offers out of hand. As the years passed, and our world became nothing more than dreams of wardrobes and flying machines, the number of proposals for the hand of Queen Susan increased, and even Queen Lucy began receiving offers.
One night, Susan did not appear for dinner, and Peter found her in his private library. As he shut the door behind him, she lifted a parchment from the pile in front of her.
"This," she said with an arch of her eyebrow, "is a demand that I give birth." Peter stepped quietly through the room as she continued talking. "It includes the suggestion that I take a consort. Your chief advisor, I notice, suggests you marry me off post haste." Peter seated himself on the edge of his desk, and reached across her to pluck a random parchment from the pile.
"This," said Peter, "is a polite request from the lands to the North that if I will not marry, then I at least take a concubine who can give birth to a future King of Narnia. In case I die, one assumes. You see, sister," he said, lowering the parchment, "it is not only you under pressure to ensure there are more Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve on the thrones of Cair Paravel."
"That is a brilliant plan, brother," said Susan, ignoring the meaning in his words. "You can get some bastard on a whore, and I can avoid the stretch marks." She reached for another parchment.
"Susan," said Peter, placing a hand on her arm and halting her movement, "please refrain from talking like that. It does not become you."
Susan looked up at Peter. "And it does not become you to be such a prude, Peter. I only repeat what I have heard."
"From whom?" he asked.
"From everyone," she said.
"You are Queen of Narnia," he replied. "You are not just 'everyone.'"
"It is still true, Peter."
"That I am a prude?"
"That you should get a son on a whore and marry me off whilst I'm still beautiful." Susan sounded bitter, and she knew it. The years had passed, as Peter had said they would, and she still did not want to leave Narnia.
Peter leaned forward and lowered his voice. "So eager to leave Narnia, sister?" he asked.
"So eager to be rid of me, brother?" she snapped back. Peter did not reply, merely kept watching her, and Susan concentrated on the sound of her own breathing as she tried to keep calm. She listened to the beating of her heart growing louder in her ears, until the room was so silent and her heart so loud that she thought the whole of Narnia could hear her body betraying her.
"No," he said at last, and she breathed out in relief.
"Are you sure?" she asked, still worried.
"Yes," he said, and inside her head she cursed him for his one word answers, but refrained from saying them out loud. Her brother was right, for she was a Queen of Narnia, and if he had said she must marry, then she would, although it would break her heart to leave Narnia.
"I receive more proposals every day," Susan said. "And the ambassadors are asking for private meetings with you. Are they pressuring you for a response?"
"They are," he said, and his hand tightened on her arm.
"Please do not marry me off," she whispered.
He pushed away from the desk, and dropped to his knees beside her. "Susan," he said. "Dear, dear sister. I will not let you leave my side for as long as I am High King of Narnia." He cupped her head and kissed her hair.
For a second, Susan allowed herself to be warmed by his presence, and thought that perhaps he would marry Lucy off instead. Such a result would be eminently preferable, she thought, though it would make Edmund intolerable. But she discarded the notion, for she knew her brother would not separate any of them.
author: pen
fandom: the chronicles of narnia
disclaimer: these characters are owned by the estate of cs lewis. they like coming after people who write narnia, so shh.
this was originally for sloane. it's still for sloane, but it's been rewritten.
31/05/2005
*
The years passed quickly in Narnia, but the Pevensies had been Kings and Queens of Narnia for only three summers before Queen Susan received the first marriage proposal. The emissary came from the lands over the sea, and his horses and servants were laden down with gold and jewels and silk. Lucy ran her fingers over the mechanised toys, and turned to her eldest brother. "Can we keep them?" she asked, and behind her, Edmund laughed. King Peter shook his head, and bade her put the toys down.
Away from the court, Susan put her hand on Peter's arm. "I don't want to leave, Peter," she said. "I love Narnia too much."
"One day you might have to, royal sister," he said gently. "For Narnia."
"For Narnia," whispered Susan sadly. "But not today."
"Not today, sister," Peter said, and kissed her cheek as he brushed past her and out of the room.
King Peter rejected the emissary's offer during an audience the next morning, and, as is the way of emissaries, the emissary graciously departed in a whirl of perfumes and animals.
The next offer for the hand of Queen Susan arrived three weeks later. Seated on her throne, Susan looked beautiful and serene, but behind closed doors in the section of the castle where only the kings and queens slept, Susan's voice rose. "This must stop!" she said. "I shouldn't have to deal with this!" She paced through Peter's rooms, and her long black hair swung behind her.
"Susan." Peter stepped up behind her and softly grasped her shoulders. His voice had deepened over the years in Narnia, and was a sombre, comforting sound. "You will not leave Narnia today, nor tomorrow."
"And the day after?" she asked nervously, eyes on the empty fireplace.
"Not this year, Susan," he said. "But one year. For Narnia, dear sister," and Susan took a deep breath. For Narnia, but not yet. She was a queen of Narnia, and she could accept that.
Peter's hands tightened on Susan's shoulders. "Yes," she acknowledged him. "Thank you brother." She turned to face him and smiled. "For Narnia."
"You are a Queen of Narnia, Susan. You have responsibilities. We are not in London anymore." His voice was oddly formal as he spoke, and she looked up at him.
"I know," she said softly, and he kissed her forehead gently before pushing her out of his rooms.
"Now go to bed," he said. "You need your sleep." Susan frowned at him as he shut the door.
Queen Susan continued to receive proposals of marriage, but she was unsure of the exact number. The proposals were often sent to the High King Peter, a fact which upset her even as it reassured her. She did not want to be married to someone who could not propose to her directly, and so knew she could reject those offers out of hand. As the years passed, and our world became nothing more than dreams of wardrobes and flying machines, the number of proposals for the hand of Queen Susan increased, and even Queen Lucy began receiving offers.
One night, Susan did not appear for dinner, and Peter found her in his private library. As he shut the door behind him, she lifted a parchment from the pile in front of her.
"This," she said with an arch of her eyebrow, "is a demand that I give birth." Peter stepped quietly through the room as she continued talking. "It includes the suggestion that I take a consort. Your chief advisor, I notice, suggests you marry me off post haste." Peter seated himself on the edge of his desk, and reached across her to pluck a random parchment from the pile.
"This," said Peter, "is a polite request from the lands to the North that if I will not marry, then I at least take a concubine who can give birth to a future King of Narnia. In case I die, one assumes. You see, sister," he said, lowering the parchment, "it is not only you under pressure to ensure there are more Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve on the thrones of Cair Paravel."
"That is a brilliant plan, brother," said Susan, ignoring the meaning in his words. "You can get some bastard on a whore, and I can avoid the stretch marks." She reached for another parchment.
"Susan," said Peter, placing a hand on her arm and halting her movement, "please refrain from talking like that. It does not become you."
Susan looked up at Peter. "And it does not become you to be such a prude, Peter. I only repeat what I have heard."
"From whom?" he asked.
"From everyone," she said.
"You are Queen of Narnia," he replied. "You are not just 'everyone.'"
"It is still true, Peter."
"That I am a prude?"
"That you should get a son on a whore and marry me off whilst I'm still beautiful." Susan sounded bitter, and she knew it. The years had passed, as Peter had said they would, and she still did not want to leave Narnia.
Peter leaned forward and lowered his voice. "So eager to leave Narnia, sister?" he asked.
"So eager to be rid of me, brother?" she snapped back. Peter did not reply, merely kept watching her, and Susan concentrated on the sound of her own breathing as she tried to keep calm. She listened to the beating of her heart growing louder in her ears, until the room was so silent and her heart so loud that she thought the whole of Narnia could hear her body betraying her.
"No," he said at last, and she breathed out in relief.
"Are you sure?" she asked, still worried.
"Yes," he said, and inside her head she cursed him for his one word answers, but refrained from saying them out loud. Her brother was right, for she was a Queen of Narnia, and if he had said she must marry, then she would, although it would break her heart to leave Narnia.
"I receive more proposals every day," Susan said. "And the ambassadors are asking for private meetings with you. Are they pressuring you for a response?"
"They are," he said, and his hand tightened on her arm.
"Please do not marry me off," she whispered.
He pushed away from the desk, and dropped to his knees beside her. "Susan," he said. "Dear, dear sister. I will not let you leave my side for as long as I am High King of Narnia." He cupped her head and kissed her hair.
For a second, Susan allowed herself to be warmed by his presence, and thought that perhaps he would marry Lucy off instead. Such a result would be eminently preferable, she thought, though it would make Edmund intolerable. But she discarded the notion, for she knew her brother would not separate any of them.
