callmegentle: (troubled dreams)
 The cure for illness that had taken hold of her early in her Golden Age had left her with the faintest ability to tell what might come. She would that it were more useful-- it had helped at times, yes, but she was still unable to interpret things nearly as well as she should and so much of what came to her came in fitful starts.

At the moment, startled from sleep, she isn't certain if the glint of steel and battlefield shouts are of past, present, or future. When the headache follows in its wake, she knows it is a foretelling.

Slipping out of her bed is a careful thing, for she truly doesn't want to wake Caspian. It's harder to focus on such things when she's not alone.

Soon enough, though, her presence would be missed, and when he sought her the king would find her standing on the balcony, frowning at the stars.
callmegentle: (strained smile)
Taking him to interact with other Narnian children is not an unusual thing. He's young enough that their company is still pleasant; is still happy enough to be able to play. And it's a way of helping him love this land better, though she doubts he needs it so much now.

What is unusual is the thoughtful furrow in Susan's brow that she does her best to hide as they cheerfully bid the young Narnians farewell and head back to the Cair. What is unusual is the more circuitous path they take back to the castle, winding not entirely aimlessly through the trees towards a calm little clearing.

Her hand squeezes Mordred's slightly as they approach the destination she has in mind.

"Do you like spending time with the other children, Mordred?"
callmegentle: (troubled dreams)
She feels fine for the first few hours after reuniting with the Narnians. They ask her about what happened in the desert, but she doesn't know how to explain-- doesn't feel it's something they need to know, really. This is something between her and Aslan and the Deep Magic. So she tells them that she had lost her way in the storm, had made her way back to them through Aslan's grace. It's not entirely a lie.

She's doing so well, she doesn't think there are going to be any averse effects. But then they cross more properly into Narnia, and suddenly there is heat everywhere. She doesn't hear the Narnians' outcry as she comes close to falling from her horse-- but Nazareen is one of hers, being of the desert, and she doesn't let the Queen fall even as Susan slips into unconsciousness.

Doesn't  hear her brother coming upon the party of Narnians, demanding to know what happened and not getting a very satisfactory answer.

All the High King will get is the knowledge that the magic no longer seems to be emanating from the Calormen desert, that they had lost one of their guides in the mysterious dust storm, and that the Queen had briefly gone missing only rejoin with the convoy later, perhaps a touch sun-dazed but largely hale.

At least, so they had thought before she'd fainted.
callmegentle: (sparkle in her smile)
Years of waiting to make a move had led to this. Months of waiting as her body grew had led to this-- this beautiful, infinitely precious moment where she gets to say hello to her son at last.

She's exhausted beyond belief. She's overjoyed beyond all measure.

She's going to be beaming as she waves her sibling over with a hand.

"Come. Meet your nephew."
callmegentle: (i've said too much)
They'd not even left the island on which Cair Paravel sat, and yet this homecoming feels as though she is returning from a journey a thousand miles away.

The boys, at least, are taking their brief meeting with their aunt and its abrupt ending well. Rilian's telling some tale to make Errian giggle-- it lifts Susan's spirits just slightly. 

Both children running to cling to their father's legs upon return to the castle even manages to bring a smile to her face.
callmegentle: (a queen must sacrifice)
They had written to Peter, of course, soon after the Battle at Anvard had concluded and Rabadash was sent on his way back to Calormen. They hadn't expected much of a response other than the 'message recieved' one-- time was short for letter-writing in the North. They all knew that.

But Susan also knew that her brother would likely want to have words with her when he returned. So, when he did return and the feast celebrating his return had ended, Susan found herself waiting on the balcony staring into the night.

When she hears her brother's footsteps behind her, she lets her shoulders slump just slightly.

"Go on, then. Say 'I told you so.'"

Because he had told her so. And she had failed in her promise to him.

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Queen Susan the Gentle

May 2014

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