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"And where is the Queen Susan?"
"At Cair Paravel," said Corin. "She's not like Lucy, you know, who's as good as a man, or at any rate as good as a boy. Queen Susan is more like an ordinary grown-up lady. She doesn't ride to the wars, though she is an excellent archer."
— The Horse and His Boy
The night before they left Cair Paravel, Peter had kissed Susan’s brow and told her to find her happiness above all else. She had smothered her feelings with a smile, and told him what a good king he was. She was never sure whether his lack of understanding was wilful or not, but she wished to think the best of him. And he was a good king. In her heart, Susan knew Aslan had been right in that regard.
Susan was going to meet Prince Rabadash and consider his proposal of marriage for many reasons, but hopes of conjugal bliss did not factor into any of them.
They had discussed his invitation as siblings, together, around a table as they always did for these big concerns. Susan had argued for postponing the visit while the threat of giants loomed so large. It would not do to split the family when they could be going to war at any moment. Peter had disagreed, not wanting them to show weakness, and said they should go on with life as normal, without making allowances for such things. Susan did not think they could afford so much hubris as such a small nation, but was won over by Edmund’s wisdom. If they were to ever overcome the smallness of their nation and the precariousness of their position, they would need allies. Those allies could not come without making the first step. This is why there was no question about which brother would accompany her.
Lucy had wanted to come too, of course, but one of them would be needed to stay in Cair Paravel if Peter did indeed need to go North and face the giants, and she couldn’t replace either Susan or Edmund on the trip to Calormen. Even Peter could solve that equation, so he gently told her no. All the big decisions seemed to be Peter’s to share, even if the middle siblings united held the most sway behind closed doors.
Lucy had sulked in a radiant, pleasing way for a couple of days before accepting her fate, and everyone said she had the loveliest temperament to not even be upset. Susan knew that the people did not read Lucy correctly, though her sister did indeed have the loveliest temperament.
Susan reminded Lucy to keep up with her lessons, and promised to read the book she gifted her for the journey. When she had turned to leave, Lucy had suddenly clasped her wrist.
“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
Sometimes Susan remembered that Lucy was the smartest of them all, no matter how much they all tried to shield her.
“Of course. I’m always careful, aren’t I?”
Lucy smiled, eyes down. “I know. And I know I’m always saying we should try harder to have adventures but… I just want to keep living this wonderful life, with my sister, who is here.”
Susan tucked a lock of Lucy’s hair behind her ear. “Don’t look down, Lu. You’re a Queen.” She tried to smile reassuringly. “But as do I. Nothing will change. Be safe, be responsible, and only listen to Peter when he knows what he’s talking about.”
Lucy had grinned at that one. Honestly, there were no better hands for Cair Paravel than Lucy’s.
On their last night, Susan visited their throne room. Lit only by her torch, the room looked more imposing than she had found it in years. Inevitably, she strayed towards their thrones, and watched the play of shadows on the wall. Their gifts from Father Christmas were commemorated at the head of their thrones. The intricate wooden carvings gleamed like gold, as she studied the shapes of a longsword, a bow and a quiver of arrows, a half-full crystal bottle and a dagger in its shadow, and for Edmund, who had not received a gift, an icicle. For those who did not know, they always assumed it was a knife, but for those who did, they remembered how far Edmund had come, and how much worse the days of the White Witch were.
Susan’s bow and quiver of choice were already ready for morning. The spare quivers and bow strings and sharpeners and flint had gone in her trunk with her clothes and jewellery, but her bow was waiting for her on her dressing table, for her to don in the morning. She was never sure how much the courtiers knew about her little talent. She had heard some of them express surprise about her choice to carry weapons on hunts, and she had heard others crow about the Queen Susan’s ability to split an arrow while other titters that it was nice for her to have a pretty occupation. She supposed she wasn’t the only sibling to be annoyed by such a thing. She knew Edmund pretended it didn’t bother him that people always viewed his swordsmanship as no more than an admirable hobby. No one addressed him as a knight, even though he could take Peter in a fight. When she had asked him about it once, he had only said that he would always be better used at the strategy table than in combat. He knew his place, and if people forgot he had other strengths, then that was just something for him to use against them later.
Edmund kept training, and she did too. Not with an audience, like Lucy always ended up having to, but not in secret. She was their Queen, and she could defend them. Between the four of them, they had enough knowledge and secret strengths to protect their people.
Edmund didn’t speak to Susan in the weeks before their departure, but she knew it wasn’t out of any intended slight. He had a tendency to overwork himself at the best of times, and knowing he would be out of communication for weeks aboard their ship, he worked manically to provide for every possible contingency, and several impossible ones. To shore up alliances and acquaintances, so that if the worst should happen, their family and their country would have the best protection possible.
Their second night on board, Susan was not surprised to receive a note from Edmund asking for a private dinner. She in turn offered to host it in her quarters, as she had been given the largest captain’s quarters by virtue of her sex. It was an unnecessary concession, but one she didn’t feel a need to dispute.
The serving boy entered with Edmund, eyes darting around her room with a bashful eagerness. She assumed the cook had told him to keep his eyes and fingers to himself. Her lady’s maids from the castle had nailed blue cotton sheets over the walls, endeavouring to mark it as distinctly feminine for some reason. Her trunk full of clothes was closed, still neatly packed. As she was travelling without a maid of any sort, the dresses were her usual deep jewel tones but of lighter fabrics, and of the sort she could lace up by herself. They were much simpler than what she wore at court, but she knew that she looked ridiculous compared to the cotton shirts and breeches worn by her brother and all of the sailors. She smiled as the boy placed the plates and the bottle of wine, and he flushed completely red.
Edmund was trying not to laugh.
“Will—that is—it’s everything, Your Majesty?”
“Yes, thank you, Tom.” He squeaked at the mention of his name and sprinted away, leaving the door slightly ajar in his haste. Susan stood to close it, and when she turned back Edmund was already shovelling food into his mouth. She smiled to herself and followed his example, though she took care to actually chew her food.
When he had finished all of the meat and most of the potatoes, and was picking at the green beans, he spoke as if continuing a long conversation. “I don’t actually anticipate you marrying that Rabadash fellow.”
“Oh?” Susan said, tone implacable.
“I mean, I’m hoping that the rumours will be unfounded and we will find a kind, sensible and conscientious future ruler, but I’m not holding my breath. And even if he is, I don’t know that you should marry him.”
She tried to hold back her sigh. “Yet you still thought the trip was wise, especially now?”
“You’re the one who is always saying we need allies, my lady sister. I have a lot of contacts lined up in Calormen and on the way. This trip will be invaluable, even without anticipating watching Peter give you away at the end of it.”
“And I suppose it’s a side benefit that it tells every other nation that we are beginning to take my marriage offers seriously.” Edmund inclined his head before shovelling in a big stack of green beans. She tried not to sigh again. “We could have gone to Archenland.”
“Nonsense. Prince Corin is far too young for you.”
Susan shook her head at him. “And yet we are picking him up at the next port. Your ability to scheme knows no bounds.”
Edmund only toasted himself to that one.
“Are you considering him for Lucy?” He froze in a way that made evident he hadn’t been. Another way she was different to her sister, she marked in that silent place inside her.
“Lu’s only eighteen.”
“I got my first proposal at fifteen. Though granted I wouldn’t say we cared much for that one.”
“She’s different.”
Susan said nothing, only picking at her dinner. “If I’m not marrying Prince Rabadash, do you have thoughts on who I will be?”
“No serious ones. I’ll send you an edict if that changes.”
“Why thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You probably understand all that better than I, the importance of making a strong alliance that won’t in turn intimidate and ruin most of our other alliances.”
“Indeed, I have thought about it.” She paused, checking Edmund was still focused on the dregs of his dinner. “I will wed for conquest. You will wed for advantage. Lucy will wed for love. And Peter will wed for Narnia.”
“How bleak. But I’m sure I’ll manage, so long as Advantage has a keen wit and isn’t too bad to look at.”
“I wish you marital bliss.”
“You sound bitter.”
She chose not to meet his eyes. “You said it yourself. I know how this will need to go.”
Edmund put down his glass. “Su. You don’t actually have to get married. Ever. You don’t have to unless you want to. You know that, right?”
She shrugged prettily. “I just don’t think you can guarantee that.”
“I can. We’re small, but we are not a weak nation. Besides, we rule Narnia as siblings. Any of us marrying would dangerously shake up that balance in a way I don’t look forward to. If you can’t trust my brotherly affection, trust my practicality.”
She loved him more for that. Finally, she nodded, and went back to her food. “Do you really see Peter marrying a Narnian?” He asked.
“I think it shouldn’t be discounted. It would consolidate Narnian power and keep the throne internal.” He hmmed, cocking his head in a way that meant he was mentally going through lists of courtiers. “And did you know they’ve started calling you the Just?”
He chuckled. “I have heard, actually. It’s not too bad. Better than King Edmund the Traitor. I’ve also heard the Cunning and the Wise, though, so I’ve got options if Just doesn’t catch on. What do they say about you?”
“You haven’t heard?” She asked, tone as dry as the wine she was sipping delicately.
“I’ve heard the Beautiful, but I thought there had to be more to it than that.”
She smiled thinly. “I hoped so too. I haven’t heard any consistent ones for me or Lucy. She might get the Kind or the Beloved, but I’m hoping the Brave will be the one that catches. Peter will be the Great though, I’m pretty sure.”
“Peter the Brilliant. The Splendid. The Magnificent. The Perfect. That one’s alliterative. Somebody called him the Great to his face the other week and he almost keeled over from embarrassment.” Susan thought the sheer glee on his face was unbecoming for his station.
“I don’t blame him.”
“It was hilarious.” Edmund insisted.
The next week, they received a raven from the palace. Giants had been spotted at the northern border, a whole camp of them, so Peter was going north with his own retinue. Lucy would continue to hold half-court at Cair Paravel.
“Smart girl,” Edmund remarked when he finished reading the note. “Peter’s been preparing for this for ages, he knows what to do. It’ll be fine.”
Susan knew being right wouldn’t make him any less worried, so she didn’t say anything.
Seeing their calm, the Captain haltingly asked if they would be maintaining their current course.
“Of course,” Edmund said. “It’s what we agreed upon before we left. The High King has this well in hand.”
He only nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty. Thank you.”
In a shoddy attempt to hide their fear, the crew decided to have an archery competition. For reasons completely beyond her, Edmund encouraged this nonsense. He limited the number of arrows they were allowed to throw into the ocean, but beyond that let them have ridiculous, safe fun. With weapons. She understood the value of camaraderie, but not why they had to use weapons to achieve it.
So of course Edmund betrayed her at the first opportunity. “Sister, you must have a go.”
The dead silence in response to his suggestion told her that she had to do it. She was their Queen, after all. She needed to show them that they didn’t need to worry about protecting her, that they could trust her to lead them.
The shot was supposed to be impressive, but Susan thought it would be elementary. Sever a rope holding up a bag of laundry, and land the arrow on a crude X painted on the railing behind it. She walked backwards, lining up her shot. They watched her slow steps like she was a dangerous snake, or a precious jewel they were afraid of dropping. She realised, not for the first time, that the deep blue and rope details of her simple travel dress still made their shirtsleeves look like rags. She enjoyed having more practical sleeves without a train or jewellery, and though the dress was linen instead of silk, it was not equivalent to her brother’s tailored version of the ship crew’s apparent uniform. Mentally setting aside what she could not help, she came to a stop where the X was just below where she wanted to cut the rope. Testing the tension a couple of times, she raised the bow, pulled the arrow, and shot. The laundry bag thudded to the deck at the same moment the arrow embedded in the wood, perfectly in the centre. Edmund was the first to smile and clap his hands. “The High Queen, everyone.”
Everyone burst into applause, though they did not dare welcome her into the fray. She tried not to frown—Edmund only called her High Queen when he wanted something. They all know that wasn’t technically her title.
Susan wondered how they would react if she found a tunic and trousers to put on. Maybe by the time they reached Calormen they would stop staring. But maybe not, and anyway, that would definitely be counterintuitive to the point of the trip.
Accepting their congratulations, she returned below deck.
Their arrival at Calormen was long awaited. When Susan stepped off the ship, their reception concerned her. By the time the first course was served at dinner, she was getting worried for their safety. At the end of the first night, she knew this would be trying, painful, and very dangerous.
Though she loved being right, this time, she was not pleased.
The visit was not good.
Susan had known that there were those who would view her body as communal property, as a piece of jewellery or treasure, something to be taken by force, but this forceful reminder still made her heart race and her jaw clench. No one let on that they had thought about the exact details of what Calormen wanted to do, except perhaps for the cadence of her brother’s rage, but it was all she thought about as the shore faded into the distance under the starlit sky. She did not know how long she stood out there in the bitter wind, fingers clenched, but eventually she woke up in her quarters, so not forever, clearly.
She made herself attend all of the meetings, though there was so little new information. She started reading Edmund’s correspondence without his permission too for good measure.
There was only a little about her.
The Beautiful Savage. The Barbaric Queen. They were intended as insults, but something about them was liberating. She had always been entirely restrained, with the notable exception of when she used to rail at her siblings for things like not folding their socks properly after they had to leave their mother.
Peter used to say she had a temper, but he had no idea what magma lay under her snide comments.
So, just the notion that she might be wild and awful, that she might rend and rip and emerge covered in blood with her enemies in pieces.
Well.
It wasn’t the worst daydream she could imagine, as she watched the waves roll under their ship. Something about it was soothing, even.
The journey back was much faster without their many stops, and she felt she blinked and was already back at home. She wished her mother could see Cair Paravel.
She knew Edmund had written ahead, so she wasn’t surprised to see Lucy waiting for them at the gate. However, she was surprised to see her in the leather armoured set Susan had ordered made for her. The captain of the guard and one of their commanders was waiting with her.
The captain of the guard spoke as Lucy hugged them both. “How soon would you like to leave, Edmund?”
“Within the hour, if we can. Are the men rested and prepared?”
“Indeed, Your Majesty. Your instructions were followed to the letter.
“Thank you. Lucy and I will meet you at the gates, Commander.”
“Queen Susan, would you like to be briefed now?” The captain of the guard asked.
“I’m sorry, could you give me a moment?” She squeezed Lucy’s arm and hissed to Edmund. “A word.”
He let her drag him down the hall and into another alcove. “You didn’t ask me if I wanted to stay.”
“You have to. You know Lu was desperate to go, and you’re the best person to look after Cair Paravel if this becomes a true war.”
“That’s ridiculous. Surely I’m the best person for negotiations.”
He huffed. “Really, they’ve been negotiating through me this whole trip. They’re after you, Susan, so you need to be somewhere safe.”
“Where I’ll have no idea what’s going on.”
“No, Queen Susan. Safe.”
“You have no reason to believe they would not do the same to Lucy if given the chance.” Her arrow found its mark. He hadn’t considered that. It seemed no one ever did. But she was so sick of it all and someone had to take care of Lucy. “If that’s the reason I cannot be there, Lucy should be here too.”
He exhaled. “Lucy’ll be with the archers. It’s the most protected position. We need to pivot them away from thinking about you, you specifically. We’re going to meet them at Archenland so we can call on the hospitality of their royal family. If things aren’t handled there, then we’ll reevaluate. We can’t go to war on both borders at the same time. Lu would come back and you would need to go help Peter or go for another army. But we cannot leave Cair Paravel empty right now and you cannot be there. Okay?”
She did not agree, but she saw his logic. That would have to be enough. “Okay. Fine. Go. Be safe.”
“Yeah? You’re not mad?”
“Not at you. But do not do that again.” He nodded, but his brain was already in Archenland, doing battle. She knew he would not remember his promise if she didn’t take care to remind him.
“Su? Ed?” Lucy asked, peeking around the corner.
“Come along.” Susan replied, going to hug her again. “You’re ready? You have what you need? You know what you’re doing?”
Lucy nodded vigorously. “Really. I promise.”
“Take my horn.” Susan unclipped her belt, holding it out to Lucy.
“But, I— I’ll be with Edmund.”
“I mean it, Lucy.”
Edmund thought for a moment and nodded slowly. “Take it, Lu. Hold down the fort, all right, Queen Susan? We’ll be back soon.” Susan smiled, squeezing Lucy’s hand. Lucy was a little confused, but wasn’t going to push now.
Susan watched them leave from the throne room’s balcony. For the first time in a long time, she prayed to Aslan to watch over her sister. And to bring her and her brothers home.
Unspeakably tired, she turned back to the throne room and all the decisions awaiting her there.