Mansuetus Gentilis Regina - for angel_in_tears
Title: Mansuetus Gentilis Regina
Author: tiabolt
Recipient: angel_in_tears
Rating: T (for slight suggestive language)
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: Becoming Gentle is an uphill battle she didn’t expect. How does one become Gentle in Narnia when one does not even know what it means? A story of negotiations, politics, and midnight escapades in the Golden Age as Queen Susan learns to be Gentle.
Author’s Notes: I’ve often had a difficult time understanding Susan and her title. I like the battle fierce Susan who appears in the movies, but it’s very hard to reconcile her with book!Susan. Even in the books, there are so many contradictions, particularly in regards to Susan, which I tried to briefly explore here.
Mansuetus Gentilis Regina
Year One of His Tetrarchy
(Gentle. She wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about the word. Her younger sister was Valiant, and her fair haired brother was Magnificent. Edmund was Just. But she, she was Gentle. And right now, trying to live up to her title was not doing any good.)
“We are trying to negotiate, King Bernen,” Peter gritted out in measured tones. Beside him the beginnings of a scowl were beginning to appear on her younger brother’s face. The Valiant Lucy was quiet, not because she was shy, but because she was still learning the delicate art of diplomacy and economics, and right now had the sense enough to realize that the Galman King would hardly consider her opinion. While King Lune treated the young monarchs with respect and actually listened to what they said, they had faced only patronizing smiles and condescending words from every other monarch and political leader they had met.
Susan was quiet. (She was the Gentle Queen, you know, and she knew what that meant in England. It meant being quiet, demure, gracious, offering tea and biscuits, talking about the weather, Isn’t the Narnia flora so lovely this time of year? Please have a cup of tea until my brother arrives, yes he is the eldest, yes he is High King Peter the Magnificent, I am just Queen Susan the Gentle). It wasn’t her place to speak. (There were so many logical fallacies in that first paragraph the arrogant, sexist king had said, that she had nearly laughed. No she, couldn’t-she is the Gentle Queen, she is a gracious host, and that means not laughing at the idiocy of her guest).
“Narnian electrum is a valuable commodity,” Edmund said sharply, “Yes it is silver, but it is mixed with gold so it does not tarnish. You can’t expect for us to allow such unfair trading conditions. Our smiths work extremely hard to create this metal. There must be a more reasonable price base, and we are willing to consider a price ceiling.”
Her brother took to the terse but significant title Just so easily. Insuring that his citizens were treated fairly, He lived his title, breathed his title, embodied it. (Why was it so much more difficult for her to live her title, breathe her title, embody it? She was only Gentle after all, it shouldn’t be so difficult. Her title was a burden, not something to aspire to.) Suddenly the room felt stifling, her throne was chaining her, it was too much, she needed to drop her mantle, she needed-
“I’ll bring some cool drinks. Perhaps we all simply need something to cool our heads. I am sure we shall then come to a solution both parties can agree to,” she said Gently. Before waiting to be appropriately excused, and avoiding the questioning gaze of her High King (she knew she could ask someone else to do it, she was a Queen of course, but she was Gentle, and Gentle had no place in a battle of wills, Gentle bowed, Gentle acquiesced to others, couldn’t he understand?), stood smoothing her lavender silk gown. She felt the Galman King dismiss her without even looking at her, the same way the (idiotic) King ignored her younger sister. As she gracefully glided away, Susan gave the Gentlest of sighs. The next few weeks of negotiation would be difficult for the Gentle Queen.
Year One
Day 1 of Galman Negotiations:
Today, I was Gentle.
I tire of it already. This façade is already breaking.
~Susan
(Why does he talk so much? And why cannot he speak of something that is even remotely more interesting than his tournaments? Careful, he is looking at you. Does he expect a response?)
Susan smiled (it was fake), and in the Galman King’s eyes, grew in beauty. Her blue eyes sparkled luminously (they were glazed over, she blinked to keep from dozing off), her dark hair perfectly in place (those pins hurt so much), her pink lips slightly parted (she could barely prevent herself from yawning) forming a most picturesque view before the young king’s eyes.
“Gentle Queen, have I ever mentioned how beautiful you appear this morning?”
(What? What is he trying to say? There must be some hidden meaning. Think, Susan, what did she learn in Diplomacy last week?)
“You are too kind,” she replied, lowering her lashes, (Keep calm, she is a Gentle queen, she is serene).
“Do not be so shy, Queen Susan, it is a well-deserved compliment. The four of you look so young, yet by the way you dressed when we met, I would not have guessed you are as childish as you truly are,” King Brenen continued. (Childish? He thinks they’re childish? He’s barely 20 himself! Wait Susan. Listen Susan. He said they didn’t appear so- and Lucy argues that appearances don’t matter. Don’t smile too much, Susan. Smugness is not Gentle.)
“Thank you, King Brenen. I admit I was quite taken with the fineness of the embroidery on your tunic as well. Narnia is not able to offer such delicate designs,” she said with a soft smile (it was real, but definitely NOT smug). They heard voices, and Susan tilted her head slightly (not too much movement-It’s not Gentle), recognizing her older brother’s still deepening voice.
“I should like to speak with you again, Gentle Queen. I bid you good day. Your brother and I must attend to matters I am sure womenfolk would find tedious, with all the scholarly speak,” he smiled, less patronizingly (and more egotistically) and left the parlor Susan had been entertaining him in.
Year One
One Day before Galman Negotiations.
I have very specifically chosen what We shall wear tomorrow. Lucy disagrees with my methods. She believes we should dress as we would any other day, that we should dress naturally to best show the Real Narnia. These coming days are not about the Real Narnia. They are about the best Narnia has to offer. And besides, King Lune did warn us that the other rulers will not treat us with as much consideration as him. We must appear imposing and stately if we are to have any chance of the Galman King treating us as equals. (I have heard that the King is young, so perhaps he may understand our position, but if that sexist prig of an ambassador is anything to go by, it may be a lost cause.) People hear of us, of our titles, before they see us and we should use that to our advantage.
That is why I have chosen very specific clothing for each one of us.
King Peter the Magnificent shall appear resplendent in an outfit of red and gold. I know he is not fond of the shoulder pads, but his shoulders are not yet broad enough to fill his title. King Edmund the Just will appear judging and calculating in darker colors. I am merely helping the dark, shadowy persona he has been creating for himself as a Spymaster. (I know he is not pleased that I know of his involvement in Narnia’s less Golden activities, but I respect him for it.) And the young Queen Lucy the Valiant shall appear deceptively innocent, with flowers braided in her auburn locks. She shall look her age, even if she is far more mature than that.
And I, Queen Susan the Gentle, shall appear the unassuming, perhaps even vapid, beauty in my finest dress. I shall appear welcoming and gracious. No one need know that I listen, that I have a brain. (Particularly if the King is as odious and arrogant as I suspect.)
It is said correctly that appearances are deceiving, but honestly they aren’t always so. I think the more apt phrase would simply be that appearances are important.
~Susan
(Does he really not realize that she is sitting right here? He cannot expect needlepoint to be this engrossing. She forgets, where he comes from, this is what women do. This and gossip. Don’t lie, she knows gossip is interesting, one can learn so much. Wait Susan, listen…)
“The High King thinks himself so mighty. Ha! He is not yet experienced enough to rule such a kingdom.”
“Sire, are you sure it is wise to speak of such matters in front of a Narnian Monarch?” hissed the rather long nosed Ambassador. (What a surprise-one of the sexist prigs has a brain.)
Susan concentrated on the next stitches as they were the most difficult (Except that all the stitches were difficult, she honestly doesn’t know a thing she’s doing) as King Brenen gave her a quick glance.
“We need not worry about her, Ambassador. She takes after the women of our own kingdom. Beautiful and Dumb,” he said with a smile, “What would she understand of politics? As it is she cannot hear us from this distance.”
“I suppose,” said the Ambassador, still in a whisper (Did he think she chose this seat because there is a lack of seating? Did he think this room was in the shape of an oval because it was only aesthetically pleasing? Did he think she was quiet because she had nothing to say? Did he know nothing about geometry and foci? He standing at the exact point where anything he says can be heard by whoever is in the position she has taken. Idiots.)
“It might be worthwhile to enter a treaty through marriage instead of our original plans, your Majesty. She is pretty and would produce handsome sons,” said the Ambassador.
Susan paused (Gentle Susan, gentle. They’ll suspect her if she suddenly leaves the room and returns with a bow and arrow, well two arrows, unless she decides to let King live. Don’t want to start another war.) turned the fabric around and undid the last stitch.
“It is a commendable idea. However she is not yet of age, and I am not a patient man. We will continue with our original plan. We shall finish up the so called negotiations and take the kingdom by midnight tomorrow. For now, I must entreat the lovely Queen Susan to accompany me to walk to the shooting range. She showed interest in my prowess as an archer,” the King grinned (lecherously) at (prowess) his Ambassador, and turned towards the Queen who studiously untangling some of her threads. (Prowess as an archer? Don’t laugh out loud Susan, it wouldn’t be proper. Perhaps a Gentle suggestion for an archery match instead?)
”Your Majesty, I have heard that you enjoy archery,” said King Brenen, approaching the (seething) serene Queen, “ Most curious that one as feminine as yourself would enjoy an activity meant for men, for battle…”
”There are always battles to be fought, though one may need different weapons,” murmured Susan absentmindedly (still debating how to Gently suggest a match).
”I am afraid I do not understand what you mean, fair Queen.”
(Don’t roll your eyes Susan.) She blinked slowly and looked at the King.
”It meant nothing, King Brenen, just words,” she said clearly (He doesn’t realize-words are weapons), “Would your majesty accompany me to the shooting range? Where perhaps we may compare Galman and Narnian archery styles in order to better understand one another? The weather is lovely this time of year and it would do us good to breathe the fresh Narnian air.”
Year One
Coronation Day
I feel as though as I am in a dream. How else could I possibly explain that I have become a Queen? But I am not merely Queen Susan. I am Queen Susan the Gentle, South in the Radiant Sun. It is such a contradiction. I remember the definition of Gentle from school. It is kind, amiable, and most of all mild-mannered. How can one be mild and radiant at the same time? I am not fond of contradictions. Even Father Christmas contradicted me. Women should not battle. Yet my gift is the bow and arrow. Weapons to fight, when I am a Gentle Queen. I am not Valiant, valiantly fighting for others, nor Just, fighting for justice, nor Magnificent, fighting to uphold His magnificence. So many contradictions-it isn’t logical. What does a Gentle Queen do?
~Susan
It was cool that night and Susan carefully adjusted the cloak that she had placed somewhat awkwardly over her figure. As she placed the hood over her face, she noted the lack of guards at the eastern gate. Gently picking up her dress, she Gently glided out of the gates and towards the docks, swift as a Raven.
It didn’t take long to figure out which of the ships was King Brenen’s. Only the biggest would have done for the Galman King. She thought it strange that the guards were all asleep, but paid it no mind. She had come to accomplish only one goal and would let nothing stop her. If some arrogant king thought he could simply take Narnia when she had just freed herself from that awful, awful Witch, then he was severely mistaken.
“Ah,” she thought, “these must be his chambers. Non else would have such a garish, wrought iron rendition of the Galman emblem. She couldn’t help but compare the ostentatious flying boar to Narnia’s own stately Lion. Looking both ways of the small hallway, she Gently took a hair pin out of her elaborate hair style, causing tendrils of raven locks to fall loose, and delicately placed the pin into the door’s lock. A few twists and turns, and the lock Gently clicked open. Susan cheered inwardly.
“They think I can’t do anything, the Gentle Queen,” she scoffed to herself quietly, slipping into the room without a noise. The King lay in a grand bed, sheets rumpled about him. She cleared her throat Gently. The King, a light sleeper, rose immediately and startled at the sight of the hooded figure with a strangely tilted shoulders before him.
“Who are you? How did you get in here? Why are you here?” he asked rapidly, eyes dilating with fear.
Valiantly, Justly, and Magnificently, she removed her cloak with a Gentle flourish, and in a graceful motion drew her bow, arrow pointed straight between his eyes.
“Good Evening, your Highness,” she began coolly, “I hope I am not being too forward.”
The King simply stared, too shocked by the appearance of the Gentle Queen.
“I didn’t think you would be,” she said archly, “I believe I am to understand that you intend to call your fleet of battleships and use them to take over Narnia? It was a good plan, you know, could have been executed brilliantly, especially since we are severely disadvantaged at sea with no navy. If only you didn’t speak too much. I suppose you expected to me as stupid as yourself, but as you can clearly see, that is not the case.”
She paused, cocked her head, Gently of course, and aimed her arrow lower.
“The purpose of my visit tonight is simply to give an ultimatum. You will send a message to the Galman fleet to go back and will suggest that Galma become a vassal of Narnia to ensure better trading. If you do not…”
She stepped closer, making the object of her aim clearer.
“You might find yourself missing some vital organs, or perhaps,” she smiled Gently, yet dangerously,” perhaps your favorite appendage. Do not take me lightly, King Brenen. If Galma has not become a vassal by noon tomorrow, there will be blood. Your blood.”
The King shrunk back visibly, but nodded. Susan, pleased with his reaction, returned the bow and arrow to their original places and curtsied Gently. She was gone in a gentle swish of her dress leaving behind a dumbstruck, dumb king. Somewhere she thought she heard a Lion purring proudly.
Year One
That Night:
It has been taken care of. Discreetly and effectively. Gently. Another battle won, by the grace of Aslan.
~Susan
”I can’t believe you didn’t do anything about the King,” she scolded her younger brother, who grinned in return.
“I knew you had it in control. Besides, why do you think the guards of the ship were asleep? It was all planned. I just hadn’t decided whether I should be the one to threaten him or you. You were the better choice. I hadn’t thought about turning Galma into a Narnian Vassal-that was an excellent touch. In any case, he needed to see the power of the Gentle Queen,” Edmund said with a careless shrug. Susan pursed her lips disapprovingly though she was actually very happy with the way things turned out last night.
“This is for you, dear sister, I think you’ll like it,” he continued, placing a non-descript green covered book into her hands, “I’ll take your leave. There are reports I need to evaluate. I shall see you at dinner.” And so saying, he left the Queen alone in her parlor. She opened the book and gasped at the first page, before quickly turning to a page marked by a blue silk bookmark.
It was a Narnian dictionary.
GENTLE
Adj. high born, of good breeding, noble in the manner personified by Queen Susan the Gentle [ed. Sir Tumnus in the Age of the Regents]
Original Prompt: What I want: Golden age fic or AU fic - trials and tribulations, struggling to find their feet. Susan staying in Narnia. Susan is my favourite character so anything Susan-centric really :)
Prompt words/objects/quotes/whatever: "battles are ugly when women fight" but sometimes fighting is all they seem to do. Narnia is home and they will do anything to defend it.
Author: tiabolt
Recipient: angel_in_tears
Rating: T (for slight suggestive language)
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: Becoming Gentle is an uphill battle she didn’t expect. How does one become Gentle in Narnia when one does not even know what it means? A story of negotiations, politics, and midnight escapades in the Golden Age as Queen Susan learns to be Gentle.
Author’s Notes: I’ve often had a difficult time understanding Susan and her title. I like the battle fierce Susan who appears in the movies, but it’s very hard to reconcile her with book!Susan. Even in the books, there are so many contradictions, particularly in regards to Susan, which I tried to briefly explore here.
Mansuetus Gentilis Regina
Year One of His Tetrarchy
(Gentle. She wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about the word. Her younger sister was Valiant, and her fair haired brother was Magnificent. Edmund was Just. But she, she was Gentle. And right now, trying to live up to her title was not doing any good.)
“We are trying to negotiate, King Bernen,” Peter gritted out in measured tones. Beside him the beginnings of a scowl were beginning to appear on her younger brother’s face. The Valiant Lucy was quiet, not because she was shy, but because she was still learning the delicate art of diplomacy and economics, and right now had the sense enough to realize that the Galman King would hardly consider her opinion. While King Lune treated the young monarchs with respect and actually listened to what they said, they had faced only patronizing smiles and condescending words from every other monarch and political leader they had met.
Susan was quiet. (She was the Gentle Queen, you know, and she knew what that meant in England. It meant being quiet, demure, gracious, offering tea and biscuits, talking about the weather, Isn’t the Narnia flora so lovely this time of year? Please have a cup of tea until my brother arrives, yes he is the eldest, yes he is High King Peter the Magnificent, I am just Queen Susan the Gentle). It wasn’t her place to speak. (There were so many logical fallacies in that first paragraph the arrogant, sexist king had said, that she had nearly laughed. No she, couldn’t-she is the Gentle Queen, she is a gracious host, and that means not laughing at the idiocy of her guest).
“Narnian electrum is a valuable commodity,” Edmund said sharply, “Yes it is silver, but it is mixed with gold so it does not tarnish. You can’t expect for us to allow such unfair trading conditions. Our smiths work extremely hard to create this metal. There must be a more reasonable price base, and we are willing to consider a price ceiling.”
Her brother took to the terse but significant title Just so easily. Insuring that his citizens were treated fairly, He lived his title, breathed his title, embodied it. (Why was it so much more difficult for her to live her title, breathe her title, embody it? She was only Gentle after all, it shouldn’t be so difficult. Her title was a burden, not something to aspire to.) Suddenly the room felt stifling, her throne was chaining her, it was too much, she needed to drop her mantle, she needed-
“I’ll bring some cool drinks. Perhaps we all simply need something to cool our heads. I am sure we shall then come to a solution both parties can agree to,” she said Gently. Before waiting to be appropriately excused, and avoiding the questioning gaze of her High King (she knew she could ask someone else to do it, she was a Queen of course, but she was Gentle, and Gentle had no place in a battle of wills, Gentle bowed, Gentle acquiesced to others, couldn’t he understand?), stood smoothing her lavender silk gown. She felt the Galman King dismiss her without even looking at her, the same way the (idiotic) King ignored her younger sister. As she gracefully glided away, Susan gave the Gentlest of sighs. The next few weeks of negotiation would be difficult for the Gentle Queen.
Year One
Day 1 of Galman Negotiations:
Today, I was Gentle.
I tire of it already. This façade is already breaking.
~Susan
(Why does he talk so much? And why cannot he speak of something that is even remotely more interesting than his tournaments? Careful, he is looking at you. Does he expect a response?)
Susan smiled (it was fake), and in the Galman King’s eyes, grew in beauty. Her blue eyes sparkled luminously (they were glazed over, she blinked to keep from dozing off), her dark hair perfectly in place (those pins hurt so much), her pink lips slightly parted (she could barely prevent herself from yawning) forming a most picturesque view before the young king’s eyes.
“Gentle Queen, have I ever mentioned how beautiful you appear this morning?”
(What? What is he trying to say? There must be some hidden meaning. Think, Susan, what did she learn in Diplomacy last week?)
“You are too kind,” she replied, lowering her lashes, (Keep calm, she is a Gentle queen, she is serene).
“Do not be so shy, Queen Susan, it is a well-deserved compliment. The four of you look so young, yet by the way you dressed when we met, I would not have guessed you are as childish as you truly are,” King Brenen continued. (Childish? He thinks they’re childish? He’s barely 20 himself! Wait Susan. Listen Susan. He said they didn’t appear so- and Lucy argues that appearances don’t matter. Don’t smile too much, Susan. Smugness is not Gentle.)
“Thank you, King Brenen. I admit I was quite taken with the fineness of the embroidery on your tunic as well. Narnia is not able to offer such delicate designs,” she said with a soft smile (it was real, but definitely NOT smug). They heard voices, and Susan tilted her head slightly (not too much movement-It’s not Gentle), recognizing her older brother’s still deepening voice.
“I should like to speak with you again, Gentle Queen. I bid you good day. Your brother and I must attend to matters I am sure womenfolk would find tedious, with all the scholarly speak,” he smiled, less patronizingly (and more egotistically) and left the parlor Susan had been entertaining him in.
Year One
One Day before Galman Negotiations.
I have very specifically chosen what We shall wear tomorrow. Lucy disagrees with my methods. She believes we should dress as we would any other day, that we should dress naturally to best show the Real Narnia. These coming days are not about the Real Narnia. They are about the best Narnia has to offer. And besides, King Lune did warn us that the other rulers will not treat us with as much consideration as him. We must appear imposing and stately if we are to have any chance of the Galman King treating us as equals. (I have heard that the King is young, so perhaps he may understand our position, but if that sexist prig of an ambassador is anything to go by, it may be a lost cause.) People hear of us, of our titles, before they see us and we should use that to our advantage.
That is why I have chosen very specific clothing for each one of us.
King Peter the Magnificent shall appear resplendent in an outfit of red and gold. I know he is not fond of the shoulder pads, but his shoulders are not yet broad enough to fill his title. King Edmund the Just will appear judging and calculating in darker colors. I am merely helping the dark, shadowy persona he has been creating for himself as a Spymaster. (I know he is not pleased that I know of his involvement in Narnia’s less Golden activities, but I respect him for it.) And the young Queen Lucy the Valiant shall appear deceptively innocent, with flowers braided in her auburn locks. She shall look her age, even if she is far more mature than that.
And I, Queen Susan the Gentle, shall appear the unassuming, perhaps even vapid, beauty in my finest dress. I shall appear welcoming and gracious. No one need know that I listen, that I have a brain. (Particularly if the King is as odious and arrogant as I suspect.)
It is said correctly that appearances are deceiving, but honestly they aren’t always so. I think the more apt phrase would simply be that appearances are important.
~Susan
(Does he really not realize that she is sitting right here? He cannot expect needlepoint to be this engrossing. She forgets, where he comes from, this is what women do. This and gossip. Don’t lie, she knows gossip is interesting, one can learn so much. Wait Susan, listen…)
“The High King thinks himself so mighty. Ha! He is not yet experienced enough to rule such a kingdom.”
“Sire, are you sure it is wise to speak of such matters in front of a Narnian Monarch?” hissed the rather long nosed Ambassador. (What a surprise-one of the sexist prigs has a brain.)
Susan concentrated on the next stitches as they were the most difficult (Except that all the stitches were difficult, she honestly doesn’t know a thing she’s doing) as King Brenen gave her a quick glance.
“We need not worry about her, Ambassador. She takes after the women of our own kingdom. Beautiful and Dumb,” he said with a smile, “What would she understand of politics? As it is she cannot hear us from this distance.”
“I suppose,” said the Ambassador, still in a whisper (Did he think she chose this seat because there is a lack of seating? Did he think this room was in the shape of an oval because it was only aesthetically pleasing? Did he think she was quiet because she had nothing to say? Did he know nothing about geometry and foci? He standing at the exact point where anything he says can be heard by whoever is in the position she has taken. Idiots.)
“It might be worthwhile to enter a treaty through marriage instead of our original plans, your Majesty. She is pretty and would produce handsome sons,” said the Ambassador.
Susan paused (Gentle Susan, gentle. They’ll suspect her if she suddenly leaves the room and returns with a bow and arrow, well two arrows, unless she decides to let King live. Don’t want to start another war.) turned the fabric around and undid the last stitch.
“It is a commendable idea. However she is not yet of age, and I am not a patient man. We will continue with our original plan. We shall finish up the so called negotiations and take the kingdom by midnight tomorrow. For now, I must entreat the lovely Queen Susan to accompany me to walk to the shooting range. She showed interest in my prowess as an archer,” the King grinned (lecherously) at (prowess) his Ambassador, and turned towards the Queen who studiously untangling some of her threads. (Prowess as an archer? Don’t laugh out loud Susan, it wouldn’t be proper. Perhaps a Gentle suggestion for an archery match instead?)
”Your Majesty, I have heard that you enjoy archery,” said King Brenen, approaching the (seething) serene Queen, “ Most curious that one as feminine as yourself would enjoy an activity meant for men, for battle…”
”There are always battles to be fought, though one may need different weapons,” murmured Susan absentmindedly (still debating how to Gently suggest a match).
”I am afraid I do not understand what you mean, fair Queen.”
(Don’t roll your eyes Susan.) She blinked slowly and looked at the King.
”It meant nothing, King Brenen, just words,” she said clearly (He doesn’t realize-words are weapons), “Would your majesty accompany me to the shooting range? Where perhaps we may compare Galman and Narnian archery styles in order to better understand one another? The weather is lovely this time of year and it would do us good to breathe the fresh Narnian air.”
Year One
Coronation Day
I feel as though as I am in a dream. How else could I possibly explain that I have become a Queen? But I am not merely Queen Susan. I am Queen Susan the Gentle, South in the Radiant Sun. It is such a contradiction. I remember the definition of Gentle from school. It is kind, amiable, and most of all mild-mannered. How can one be mild and radiant at the same time? I am not fond of contradictions. Even Father Christmas contradicted me. Women should not battle. Yet my gift is the bow and arrow. Weapons to fight, when I am a Gentle Queen. I am not Valiant, valiantly fighting for others, nor Just, fighting for justice, nor Magnificent, fighting to uphold His magnificence. So many contradictions-it isn’t logical. What does a Gentle Queen do?
~Susan
It was cool that night and Susan carefully adjusted the cloak that she had placed somewhat awkwardly over her figure. As she placed the hood over her face, she noted the lack of guards at the eastern gate. Gently picking up her dress, she Gently glided out of the gates and towards the docks, swift as a Raven.
It didn’t take long to figure out which of the ships was King Brenen’s. Only the biggest would have done for the Galman King. She thought it strange that the guards were all asleep, but paid it no mind. She had come to accomplish only one goal and would let nothing stop her. If some arrogant king thought he could simply take Narnia when she had just freed herself from that awful, awful Witch, then he was severely mistaken.
“Ah,” she thought, “these must be his chambers. Non else would have such a garish, wrought iron rendition of the Galman emblem. She couldn’t help but compare the ostentatious flying boar to Narnia’s own stately Lion. Looking both ways of the small hallway, she Gently took a hair pin out of her elaborate hair style, causing tendrils of raven locks to fall loose, and delicately placed the pin into the door’s lock. A few twists and turns, and the lock Gently clicked open. Susan cheered inwardly.
“They think I can’t do anything, the Gentle Queen,” she scoffed to herself quietly, slipping into the room without a noise. The King lay in a grand bed, sheets rumpled about him. She cleared her throat Gently. The King, a light sleeper, rose immediately and startled at the sight of the hooded figure with a strangely tilted shoulders before him.
“Who are you? How did you get in here? Why are you here?” he asked rapidly, eyes dilating with fear.
Valiantly, Justly, and Magnificently, she removed her cloak with a Gentle flourish, and in a graceful motion drew her bow, arrow pointed straight between his eyes.
“Good Evening, your Highness,” she began coolly, “I hope I am not being too forward.”
The King simply stared, too shocked by the appearance of the Gentle Queen.
“I didn’t think you would be,” she said archly, “I believe I am to understand that you intend to call your fleet of battleships and use them to take over Narnia? It was a good plan, you know, could have been executed brilliantly, especially since we are severely disadvantaged at sea with no navy. If only you didn’t speak too much. I suppose you expected to me as stupid as yourself, but as you can clearly see, that is not the case.”
She paused, cocked her head, Gently of course, and aimed her arrow lower.
“The purpose of my visit tonight is simply to give an ultimatum. You will send a message to the Galman fleet to go back and will suggest that Galma become a vassal of Narnia to ensure better trading. If you do not…”
She stepped closer, making the object of her aim clearer.
“You might find yourself missing some vital organs, or perhaps,” she smiled Gently, yet dangerously,” perhaps your favorite appendage. Do not take me lightly, King Brenen. If Galma has not become a vassal by noon tomorrow, there will be blood. Your blood.”
The King shrunk back visibly, but nodded. Susan, pleased with his reaction, returned the bow and arrow to their original places and curtsied Gently. She was gone in a gentle swish of her dress leaving behind a dumbstruck, dumb king. Somewhere she thought she heard a Lion purring proudly.
Year One
That Night:
It has been taken care of. Discreetly and effectively. Gently. Another battle won, by the grace of Aslan.
~Susan
”I can’t believe you didn’t do anything about the King,” she scolded her younger brother, who grinned in return.
“I knew you had it in control. Besides, why do you think the guards of the ship were asleep? It was all planned. I just hadn’t decided whether I should be the one to threaten him or you. You were the better choice. I hadn’t thought about turning Galma into a Narnian Vassal-that was an excellent touch. In any case, he needed to see the power of the Gentle Queen,” Edmund said with a careless shrug. Susan pursed her lips disapprovingly though she was actually very happy with the way things turned out last night.
“This is for you, dear sister, I think you’ll like it,” he continued, placing a non-descript green covered book into her hands, “I’ll take your leave. There are reports I need to evaluate. I shall see you at dinner.” And so saying, he left the Queen alone in her parlor. She opened the book and gasped at the first page, before quickly turning to a page marked by a blue silk bookmark.
It was a Narnian dictionary.
GENTLE
Adj. high born, of good breeding, noble in the manner personified by Queen Susan the Gentle [ed. Sir Tumnus in the Age of the Regents]
Original Prompt: What I want: Golden age fic or AU fic - trials and tribulations, struggling to find their feet. Susan staying in Narnia. Susan is my favourite character so anything Susan-centric really :)
Prompt words/objects/quotes/whatever: "battles are ugly when women fight" but sometimes fighting is all they seem to do. Narnia is home and they will do anything to defend it.