There Will Be Times - for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
angel_in_tears
Aug. 10th, 2011 05:00 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
nfe-gremlin.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
narniaexchangeTitle: There Will Be Times
Author:caramelsilver
Recipient:angel_in_tears
Rating: PG
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: Careful, that’s what they called Queen Susan of Narnia.
There Will Be Times
Careful, that’s what they called her in her early years. The oldest queen was careful. Careful not to anger anyone, careful of rules and customs, careful when meeting new people, and her country loved her for the consideration and respect she was always careful to show.
**
It was the morning of the coronation and her hair had never looked so beautiful before. The dryad, whose name Susan sadly couldn’t remember sadly Susan couldn’t remember, had spent hours on washing, brushing and twisting it into this wonderful creation she stared at in the mirror. Susan couldn’t stop tilting her head and looking at it from every conceivable angle. It was simply stunning, and she couldn’t believe that her limp English hair could be transformed into this.
With glittering eyes, Susan turned to the dryad, stumbling over her words of gratitude, “Thank you so much. I...It’s amazing. You are very talented.”
The dryad blushed with pleasure and said, “Thank you, your majesty.”
For a split second Susan felt like she had to correct the dryad. It was Susan, not your majesty. But then she realised that she was her majesty! And it might send the wrong message to ask her to just call her Susan... Susan didn’t know what was the right thing to do, so she decided to just stay silent, smile and look it up later in the library.
**
Her first piece of weaponry was her bow. She loved her bow, and never travelled anywhere without it. But when she was at home she saw no reason to keep it close by. She was, after all, at home, and should she, Aslan forbid, be attacked, a long range weapon would do her no good anyway, so she kept it locked away in their private armoury.
But life as Queen of Narnia quickly showed her, nowhere was safe, not even at home.
The sun streamed through the window, and Susan was sitting alone in her private chambers, humming a tune she didn’t recognise, but none the less wouldn’t leave her head. Her fingers held a needle that was almost the size as her entire hand, and she tried clumsily to mend a tear in Edmund’s brand new cloak. How Edmund had managed to ruin his new cloak after only a week was a complete mystery. Careless boy.
Susan knew that she could get someone else to mend it. After all she was queen and had other things to do, and surely there must be someone in the castle who was paid to mend clothes, but... Susan wasn’t quite ready to give up these homely sorts of tasks yet. But the size of this needle was ridiculous. She would definitively see if there was possible to get hold of one that fitted her better.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. She frowned, sighing, as she looked at the door. She had hoped for a quiet afternoon with no interruptions. Whoever could that be?
“Come in,” Susan said, and went back to her needlework. The door opened with a soft thud, and Susan looked up in surprise. In the doorway stood a Faun she didn’t know the name of. Since Susan prided herself on the fact that she knew everyone’s name, she concluded that the girl must be new. The Faun was carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, and Susan felt a rush of gratitude towards the kind soul who decided to send her.
“Oh, thank you very much. You can put it over here,” she said, moving some papers off a small table. The Faun didn’t meet her eyes and hurried over to Susan’s side with the tray.
As the Faun laid out the tea, Susan took the opportunity to study her more closely. Her curly hair almost hid her horns, and her eyes where wide and blue, and Susan was struck by how young she was. But then the Faun’s gaze met Susan’s and she saw how full of hatred her eyes were. Reeling back, Susan almost managed to get out of her chair, before the Faun whipped out a knife hidden under the napkin and pressed it against Susan’s neck.
A small cry escaped her, before she sat frozen in her chair, frightened and unmoving.
The knife was very sharp, and it was pressed up against her neck so tight that Susan instinctively knew that one wrong move and she would be dead. A tear slipped down her face, and her breathing became rapid and uncontrolled.
“Please let me go,” Susan breathed out, trying her best to stay calm.
“No.” The word was so quiet Susan almost missed it. But the rest of the Faun’s words were clear. “What you are going to do, is not make a sound, or I will kill you.”
“Why--- Why are you doing this?” Susan asked with a sob. The hand holding the knife quivered and Susan felt the blade move against her neck, almost, but not quite breaking the skin.
“Be quiet,” the Faun hissed out, her voice raspy and full of anger. “I was hoping to find the High King, but I guess you’ll do. They’ll mourn your death just as much.”
At the mention of her death Susan’s mind kicked into high gear and she realised that if she wanted to live, then she’d have to save her self. She felt the knife move and as pressure was being applied, Susan gripped the only thing her hands could reach, and she quickly, carefully, rammed the huge sewing needle into the Faun’s neck before she could completely slit Susan’s throat.
The Faun dropped the knife as she grabbed at the needle protruding from her neck, blood gushing more rapidly when she pulled it out. With a strangled cry, the Faun fell to the ground, her beautiful golden curls ruined as she lay in a pool of her own blood.
Susan stood there frozen for a moment, staring at the dead faun, her heartbeat thudding loudly in her ears, as she tried to catch her breath. Then, as if someone had just flicked her nose, she started screaming.
At her scream people came rushing in, and she was led gently away as the guards took care of the dead body.
The next day, Queen Susan did two things.
First she declared that all four sovereigns must have personal guards with them at all times. The grumbling of her siblings and their cries of invasion of privacy she ignored. She would have no more deaths in her castle, or more importantly, in her chambers.
The second thing she did was to visit the Royal Jeweller and ask if it was possible to make a hairpin that was as long and deadly as the sewing needle she had used on the Faun. That was very possible indeed, and not long after Queen Susan the Gentle was in possession of several very beautiful, but also very deadly hairpins.
Susan never went anywhere without one with her. They were dangerous, but she quickly learned how to carefully apply them into her hair without hurting herself. They were her secret weapon and not many knew of their existence. But they made her feel safe, and that was all that mattered.
**
When she was a little girl, Susan had dreamed about being a princess, like Princess Elizabeth. To be allowed to wear beautiful dresses and eat the most delicious food and dance with princes far past her bedtime. During the war Susan would revisit these fantasies as they huddled in the bomb-shelter and she would wish to be far, far away from here.
As she looked into the mirror at the stunning dress that had been picked out for her, Susan wasn’t quite sure if she was really awake or not. Surely, this had to be a dream.
But no, the velvet was real and soft under her fingertips, and the skirt flowed out in a circle around her when she had to indulge the childish urge to spin around in front of the mirror.
**
He died, the Man. She knew he would after all, she was the one to put the poison in his wine. But, he died, and Susan was feeling unsettled.
The dining room was totally silent after the sudden death, but when Susan raised her eyebrows and met the looks of the few remaining guests at her table, the talking picked up again. Although it had to be admitted that the guests now spoke in nervous and muted voices.
Susan averted her eyes from the dead man and caught the eye of one of the guards, and made a gesture with her fingers that indicated that the body needed to be removed and quickly.
It was.
She traced the scar on her neck, as she watched the attendants remove the man. Some things could just not be tolerated. The man she had just killed had imprisoned her sister, kept her captive and beat her. And he was arrogant enough to think that Susan didn’t know he was the one behind the plot, and so had accepted her invitation to Cair Paravel. After all Queen Lucy had been rescued weeks ago, and he had gotten off scot free. Or so he thought.
Susan never did anything rashly. She had carefully gone over the evidence against the man, and once she had the undeniable proof, there was nothing that could save him. So she had made her careful plans for revenge
**
She was surprised at how light the crown was. She knew it must be made out of gold, or something similarly valuable, but she could barely feel it as it lay resting on her brow.
Looking out over the ocean, with the buzzing sounds of the party inside, Susan made a silent vow to be a good queen. The best Narnia had ever seen, a queen who was careful and had everything under control. Someone Narnia could trust.
She was Queen Susan of Narnia now. It felt rather good.
**
Careful, that’s what they called her. Susan didn’t mind that at all, because there was nothing wrong with being careful.
Finis
Original Prompt:
What I want: Golden Age fic, Susan struggling to find her feet/settle into this different world. Or a fic where Susan doesn't leave Narnia/returns to Narnia. I also love stories where Susan is a warrior/fighter.
Prompt words/objects/quotes/whatever: I'm not afraid anymore // And in the end, this is the way it's always been // I am young, but I will learn //
What I definitely don't want in my fic: M/M or Susan/Caspian. Other than that, go for your life ^^
Author:
caramelsilverRecipient:
angel_in_tearsRating: PG
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: Careful, that’s what they called Queen Susan of Narnia.
Careful, that’s what they called her in her early years. The oldest queen was careful. Careful not to anger anyone, careful of rules and customs, careful when meeting new people, and her country loved her for the consideration and respect she was always careful to show.
**
It was the morning of the coronation and her hair had never looked so beautiful before. The dryad, whose name Susan sadly couldn’t remember sadly Susan couldn’t remember, had spent hours on washing, brushing and twisting it into this wonderful creation she stared at in the mirror. Susan couldn’t stop tilting her head and looking at it from every conceivable angle. It was simply stunning, and she couldn’t believe that her limp English hair could be transformed into this.
With glittering eyes, Susan turned to the dryad, stumbling over her words of gratitude, “Thank you so much. I...It’s amazing. You are very talented.”
The dryad blushed with pleasure and said, “Thank you, your majesty.”
For a split second Susan felt like she had to correct the dryad. It was Susan, not your majesty. But then she realised that she was her majesty! And it might send the wrong message to ask her to just call her Susan... Susan didn’t know what was the right thing to do, so she decided to just stay silent, smile and look it up later in the library.
**
Her first piece of weaponry was her bow. She loved her bow, and never travelled anywhere without it. But when she was at home she saw no reason to keep it close by. She was, after all, at home, and should she, Aslan forbid, be attacked, a long range weapon would do her no good anyway, so she kept it locked away in their private armoury.
But life as Queen of Narnia quickly showed her, nowhere was safe, not even at home.
The sun streamed through the window, and Susan was sitting alone in her private chambers, humming a tune she didn’t recognise, but none the less wouldn’t leave her head. Her fingers held a needle that was almost the size as her entire hand, and she tried clumsily to mend a tear in Edmund’s brand new cloak. How Edmund had managed to ruin his new cloak after only a week was a complete mystery. Careless boy.
Susan knew that she could get someone else to mend it. After all she was queen and had other things to do, and surely there must be someone in the castle who was paid to mend clothes, but... Susan wasn’t quite ready to give up these homely sorts of tasks yet. But the size of this needle was ridiculous. She would definitively see if there was possible to get hold of one that fitted her better.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door. She frowned, sighing, as she looked at the door. She had hoped for a quiet afternoon with no interruptions. Whoever could that be?
“Come in,” Susan said, and went back to her needlework. The door opened with a soft thud, and Susan looked up in surprise. In the doorway stood a Faun she didn’t know the name of. Since Susan prided herself on the fact that she knew everyone’s name, she concluded that the girl must be new. The Faun was carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, and Susan felt a rush of gratitude towards the kind soul who decided to send her.
“Oh, thank you very much. You can put it over here,” she said, moving some papers off a small table. The Faun didn’t meet her eyes and hurried over to Susan’s side with the tray.
As the Faun laid out the tea, Susan took the opportunity to study her more closely. Her curly hair almost hid her horns, and her eyes where wide and blue, and Susan was struck by how young she was. But then the Faun’s gaze met Susan’s and she saw how full of hatred her eyes were. Reeling back, Susan almost managed to get out of her chair, before the Faun whipped out a knife hidden under the napkin and pressed it against Susan’s neck.
A small cry escaped her, before she sat frozen in her chair, frightened and unmoving.
The knife was very sharp, and it was pressed up against her neck so tight that Susan instinctively knew that one wrong move and she would be dead. A tear slipped down her face, and her breathing became rapid and uncontrolled.
“Please let me go,” Susan breathed out, trying her best to stay calm.
“No.” The word was so quiet Susan almost missed it. But the rest of the Faun’s words were clear. “What you are going to do, is not make a sound, or I will kill you.”
“Why--- Why are you doing this?” Susan asked with a sob. The hand holding the knife quivered and Susan felt the blade move against her neck, almost, but not quite breaking the skin.
“Be quiet,” the Faun hissed out, her voice raspy and full of anger. “I was hoping to find the High King, but I guess you’ll do. They’ll mourn your death just as much.”
At the mention of her death Susan’s mind kicked into high gear and she realised that if she wanted to live, then she’d have to save her self. She felt the knife move and as pressure was being applied, Susan gripped the only thing her hands could reach, and she quickly, carefully, rammed the huge sewing needle into the Faun’s neck before she could completely slit Susan’s throat.
The Faun dropped the knife as she grabbed at the needle protruding from her neck, blood gushing more rapidly when she pulled it out. With a strangled cry, the Faun fell to the ground, her beautiful golden curls ruined as she lay in a pool of her own blood.
Susan stood there frozen for a moment, staring at the dead faun, her heartbeat thudding loudly in her ears, as she tried to catch her breath. Then, as if someone had just flicked her nose, she started screaming.
At her scream people came rushing in, and she was led gently away as the guards took care of the dead body.
The next day, Queen Susan did two things.
First she declared that all four sovereigns must have personal guards with them at all times. The grumbling of her siblings and their cries of invasion of privacy she ignored. She would have no more deaths in her castle, or more importantly, in her chambers.
The second thing she did was to visit the Royal Jeweller and ask if it was possible to make a hairpin that was as long and deadly as the sewing needle she had used on the Faun. That was very possible indeed, and not long after Queen Susan the Gentle was in possession of several very beautiful, but also very deadly hairpins.
Susan never went anywhere without one with her. They were dangerous, but she quickly learned how to carefully apply them into her hair without hurting herself. They were her secret weapon and not many knew of their existence. But they made her feel safe, and that was all that mattered.
**
When she was a little girl, Susan had dreamed about being a princess, like Princess Elizabeth. To be allowed to wear beautiful dresses and eat the most delicious food and dance with princes far past her bedtime. During the war Susan would revisit these fantasies as they huddled in the bomb-shelter and she would wish to be far, far away from here.
As she looked into the mirror at the stunning dress that had been picked out for her, Susan wasn’t quite sure if she was really awake or not. Surely, this had to be a dream.
But no, the velvet was real and soft under her fingertips, and the skirt flowed out in a circle around her when she had to indulge the childish urge to spin around in front of the mirror.
**
He died, the Man. She knew he would after all, she was the one to put the poison in his wine. But, he died, and Susan was feeling unsettled.
The dining room was totally silent after the sudden death, but when Susan raised her eyebrows and met the looks of the few remaining guests at her table, the talking picked up again. Although it had to be admitted that the guests now spoke in nervous and muted voices.
Susan averted her eyes from the dead man and caught the eye of one of the guards, and made a gesture with her fingers that indicated that the body needed to be removed and quickly.
It was.
She traced the scar on her neck, as she watched the attendants remove the man. Some things could just not be tolerated. The man she had just killed had imprisoned her sister, kept her captive and beat her. And he was arrogant enough to think that Susan didn’t know he was the one behind the plot, and so had accepted her invitation to Cair Paravel. After all Queen Lucy had been rescued weeks ago, and he had gotten off scot free. Or so he thought.
Susan never did anything rashly. She had carefully gone over the evidence against the man, and once she had the undeniable proof, there was nothing that could save him. So she had made her careful plans for revenge
**
She was surprised at how light the crown was. She knew it must be made out of gold, or something similarly valuable, but she could barely feel it as it lay resting on her brow.
Looking out over the ocean, with the buzzing sounds of the party inside, Susan made a silent vow to be a good queen. The best Narnia had ever seen, a queen who was careful and had everything under control. Someone Narnia could trust.
She was Queen Susan of Narnia now. It felt rather good.
**
Careful, that’s what they called her. Susan didn’t mind that at all, because there was nothing wrong with being careful.
Finis
Original Prompt:
What I want: Golden Age fic, Susan struggling to find her feet/settle into this different world. Or a fic where Susan doesn't leave Narnia/returns to Narnia. I also love stories where Susan is a warrior/fighter.
Prompt words/objects/quotes/whatever: I'm not afraid anymore // And in the end, this is the way it's always been // I am young, but I will learn //
What I definitely don't want in my fic: M/M or Susan/Caspian. Other than that, go for your life ^^
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-10 11:14 pm (UTC)And I love how you've described the weight of the crown and how she wants to be a good Queen at the end.
Thank you so so much!!! ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-10 11:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-11 02:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2011-08-11 11:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-12 08:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-13 02:18 am (UTC)Gentle does not imply helpless. I love to see Susan's strong side in fic, and you have done a beautiful job of it.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-14 03:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2011-10-24 09:33 pm (UTC)