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temptation-narnia-chronicles · 6 years ago

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From Upon the Golden Thrones

Episode 25: Mother Narnia

Autumn had once again befallen Narnia and with it, the country had grown rather hectic with preparations. The construction for Susan’s orphanage had finally reached its completion, Mrs. Beaver helping to add the finishing touches for it’s grand opening. Susan often ventured off to oversee the progress, ensuring that everything was just so. She had truly grown rather frantic and obsessive over it, but such was only natural with a project as grand as this.

“I’m sure everything will be fine” Lucy assured the gentle. Susan peered over the paperwork cluttering her desk, trying to organize her thoughts. The youngest queen placed a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder to steady her mind. “You’re doing a good thing, Susan. The Narnians are going to be so grateful for this, I promise. Try not to worry yourself!”

“I know, Lu” Susan replied, voice worn out. “I suppose I’m just nervous. This is a rather grand affair and I’m scared of something going wrong. All the dignitaries in the neighboring lands will be in attendance and I want to make a good impression. I want them to see what I’ve done and to feel proud and impressed.” Lucy nodded in understanding, though she continued to reassure her sister that everything would be fine. In her mind, there was nothing to fear. Susan glanced back over her paperwork, eyes shifting to a stack of returned RSVPs. Almost all of the neighboring countries had agreed to come, including one particular family of interest.

The morning sun beat down on the docks as the Pevensies rushed to greet their guests. Lucy clasped her sister’s hand as they nodded and smiled at each lord and lady that approached, Tumnus and the Beavers escorting them inside and showing them to their chambers. And then there was her. Peter’s heart leapt into his throat as he saw a familiar blonde woman step off the ship, calling behind her something about her trunks. She was dressed in a rather airy pink gown with her hair piled high atop her head and adorned with a small feathered hat tilted just so. She turned and scurried down the docks to wrap her arms around Susan jovially, shrieking with delight and congratulating her. Susan hugged her back, thanking her profusely for coming.

“Well, it was a little short notice but I wouldn’t worry, darling. I’m here, aren’t I?” she replied. Peter knew her in an instant. Standing before him was none other than Ginevra of Brenn.

His cheeks grew hot and his hands began to twitch at his sides. Of all the guests he was expecting to greet this morning, she was certainly not one of them. Her father, Duke Rochester, followed close behind, grinning at the four monarchs and bowing down low to them.

“A fine morning, your majesties” he greeted.

“It’s wonderful to see you, Duke Rochester. How was your trip?” Susan asked.

“Oh, absolutely dreadful!” Ginevra replied. “It was such a long journey, and the seas were so unforgiving, I could barely stand it!”

Duke Rochester chuckled and nodded, then added, “But luckily we made it in one piece, didn’t we, Ginny?” Ginevra nodded quickly, then began rambling about how beautiful Cair Paravel looked and how excited she was to see the inside. Susan told her once she was settled into her chamber, she would have to give the girl a tour. “And it’s wonderful to see you again, as well, your majesty” Duke Rochester then said, turning and bowing to Peter.

“The pleasure is all mine” he replied. He tried his best to keep his composure but his eyes kept flitting back to Ginevra, and hers to him. Before being escorted inside, she bowed and smiled curtly at him, greeting him with the utmost civility and politeness. He watched her walk away and a mild relief washed over him. Despite their conversation before leaving Brenn, he still feared interaction between them. Old habits die hard, after all, and for all he knew whatever he said could very well have not stuck. He was grateful to find that so far, she was perfectly pleasant but that meant nothing. He couldn’t stop thinking about her the entire rest of the morning, as the remaining guests filtered out of their vessels and into the castle. While relieved to find her behaving so appropriately, at the same time he felt almost bothered by her courtly manner. He expected something far more extroverted of her, even if he didn’t necessarily want it. Now that he knew that was not what he was getting, though, his mind raced. She was much harder to read like this, playing things lowkey and collected. Perhaps deep down, he really did want some sort of reaction from her. Perhaps he wanted her to say something to him, to show him some sort of sign that the feelings she had expressed still existed. That wasn’t to say he was at all ready for another relationship, not in the slightest, and yet…feeling wanted was nice, he supposed.

“I wish you would’ve warned me first” Peter whispered to his sister as they filed back inside the castle. “I wasn’t exactly prepared to face Ginevra today.”

Susan sighed and smoothed her hair. “Out of all the other things I’ve had to do in preparation for this event, and you’re complaining about this?” she huffed.

The magnificent blinked a few times, having not expected his sister to grow so short with him. He truly appreciated all the hard work she was doing in order for everything to run smoothly, but he had to admit a little notice at least would’ve been nice. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lucy placed a hand on his forearm and shot him a secondary gaze. A gaze that told him to rethink. Susan did not need this additional stress right now. He looked to her once more, studying the bags under her eyes and the tight clench of her fists, and closed his mouth.

Lucy tightened her shawl around her shoulders as she stood beside her siblings in the orphanage’s atrium. Everything was in order: the dignitaries were waiting, the ribbon was ready to be cut, Peter had his sword ready at his side. Susan read her speech over once, twice, as many as five times in an effort to ensure she did not mess up at all. She paced the little enclosure the entire time.

“Su, I feel like I’m watching a one-woman tennis match” Edmund remarked. The gentle shot him a dirty look. Peter placed a hand on Edmund’s shoulder.

“Just let her be, Ed. She’s nervous, and understandably so” the High King commented.

“You’re one to talk, Peter!” Lucy laughed. She could tell that he, too, was internalizing panic and she knew exactly why. Out there, among the crowd, was Ginevra. In the past two days since she had arrived, Peter had hardly spoken to her let alone even looked her in the eyes. She, too, kept her distance from him, an awkward energy pulsing between them. Unspoken words and ignored feelings begged to surface.

Peter shook his head, a pleading in his eyes for Lucy not to bring it up. He didn’t want to think about such things. He didn’t want to make his anxiety worse not only for his own sake but for Susan’s as well. If he started having a panic attack, surely it would trigger an even greater one from her. Susan had worked far too hard the past year to get here, he didn’t dare ruin her day. They needed to be gentle with her, at least until all of this had passed. She deserved an environment of tranquility while she prepared.

The door to the atrium creaked open and Mrs. Beaver peered inside. “Are you ready, love?” she asked the gentle queen. Susan’s eyes grew wide with shock.

“What? It can’t possibly be time, I’m—I’m not ready yet!” she protested. If only she had been wearing a watch to confirm her suspicions, but Mrs. Beaver simply toddled forward and took Susan’s hand in hers.

“Don’t you worry, dear. Everything will be fine” she reassured. “They’re all waiting for you!” Susan giggled nervously, glanced over her shoulder to her siblings in desperation. Peter shot her a kind smile, motioning for the others to follow suit. This was a family affair, after all, and even if it wasn’t, it was their job as siblings to support one another. As they reached the makeshift stage in front of the building, Susan paused to collect herself. She smoothed her skirts, perfected her hair, dabbed some color on her lips, sucked in a deep breath, and then nodded to Mrs. Beaver to alert that she was ready. Mr. Beaver announced her and motioned for her to step forward, and it was as if all the panic had melted away. Susan held herself gracefully and confidently, stepping to the middle of the stage with parchment in hand. Her siblings couldn’t help but smile as they watched her and followed to stand nearby.

The gentle gazed out to all the faces in the crowd staring back at her and swallowed hard. She could not let them see her panic. They needed to understand she was a poised and proper queen, one avid in public speaking and social affairs. She felt as if she was a child in school again giving a presentation on the history of Marie Antoinette or the colonization of the Americas. This, however, was nothing like a school presentation. These were not her peers but her equals, those in high positions of power who would not grade her for accuracy but judge her silently and create their own perceptions of her country based on the way she carried herself. This was, perhaps, the one part of being a queen that she hated more than anything.

There was no backing down now, though. She had to do what she had to do. Clearing her throat, she glanced down to her parchment and began her speech. “Ladies and gentleman from far and wide, I want to begin by thanking you all for being here today. I know it means as much to me as it does to my brothers and sister that you were able to be in attendance” she began. Vacant eyes stared back at her, making her question her form and diction. She continued regardless. “A year and a half ago, my siblings and I were appointed kings and queens of this lovely country and have since wanted nothing more than to provide it with everything it may need now and in the coming years. We love our country more than anything. We’re proud of our country. It is not without its flaws, however. One such flaw I saw across all regions, however, was that of wayward children. Our nation is comprised mainly of Intelligent Beasts, and in a land of such wonderful creatures, there is bound to be strife and turmoil at some point in their lives. Many of these Beasts, especially during the reign of the White Witch, Jadis, were senselessly killed for reasons beyond comprehension, thus leaving their children to fend for themselves. Children unable to take care of themselves and live on their own. Hence why I decided that the best course of action would be to build a safe place for them, somewhere they can be provided a warm bed and food and drink and a sense of companionship and safety. I have poured my heart and soul into this orphanage in order to ensure it will provide everything necessary for the proper development of wayward children now and into the future. My siblings can account for the many nights my comrades and I have spent planning, designing, and constructing such a place. I am overwhelmed with joy to see it finally completed, and hope it will welcome those in need with warmth and love and comfort.” She glanced around at the crowd once again, searching for a sign of pride or happiness in their faces. After a few moments, a wave of clapping erupted among them and Susan’s fears began to subside. She looked to her older brother, signaling it was time. He nodded and stepped forward, unsheathing his sword and handing it to her. It was heavy in her hands, a weapon she was not used to, but she wielded it decently enough. “And so, without further ado, our Narnian orphanage is officially open!” she announced, then sliced through the ribbon with the blade. Another roar of clapping erupted, and Susan’s eyes fell on a proudly grinning Ginevra. The blonde gave the gentle a brief motion of happiness and pride, something Narnian in nature that equated to a thumbs-up in London. And then her eyes locked with Peter’s for the first time since she had arrived and he felt his heart race in his chest. He averted his eyes quickly, and her face fell slightly. Peter quickly sheathed his sword and regained composure so that nobody would know that inside his head, all he heard was inconsolable screaming.

All of the guests congratulated Susan and enthused of how wonderful a job she did, how beautiful an orphanage it was, and how kind and generous an act this was. Surely the Narnian children would take to it as if it was their own home. Even the Narnians themselves thanked her for creating such a fine establishment, finding relief in knowing that there was someplace for their children to go should something ever happen to them.

As evening set in, everyone returned to Cair Paravel for a grand reception. A band of fauns played roaring, raucous music for all the guests to jig and leap to, and there were long tables filled with the most delicious food. Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy sat at a grand table overlooking the whole of the garden and all of their guests. A wistful smile touched the now-tranquil Susan’s lips as she took another sip of her wine. “I suppose this was a rather successful event, after all” she commented. Lucy grinned and nodded.

“Everyone loved it! And you did incredible!” the valiant enthused. She really was genuinely proud of her sister. Despite her panic earlier in the day, she presented herself with such confidence and poise that it was worth congratulations. Peter and Edmund nodded in agreement. They, too, were wildly proud of their sister, so happy to see the praise she had received for all of her hard work. Before Edmund could say anymore, however, Nefyn galloped over and tugged him onto the dancefloor despite his protests that he didn’t dance.

“Why don’t you go out and find yourself a partner, as well?” Susan commented, nudging Peter on the arm. A sly smile touched her lips, one that made Peter mildly uncomfortable.

“Me?” he asked, feigning stupidity. “I don’t think so, Su. I’m really not in the mood for—”

“Oh, come on, Peter” Lucy chimed in. “I’m sure there’s plenty of young women out there dying to dance with the High King himself!”

Peter shook his head nervously, turning to gaze out at the crowd twirling among one another like the choppy sea. His eyes, of course, immediately landed upon Ginevra. She swayed her hips to the music as she stood at the edge of the crowd, a glass of wine in hand. It was the perfect opportunity to approach her, but he wasn’t sure he had it in him. He didn’t want to stir the pot or involve himself in things he was nowhere near ready for yet. Worst case scenario she learned nothing of his argument with her and would yet again try to shove her breasts in his face and persuade him to love her. He still wasn’t ready to handle such a thing yet. He sat there hesitating for the next fifteen minutes, nervously watching her in his periphery, but then he caught her shift, turn, her eyes landing upon a most curious fixture: the statues of the Alexandre family. That was when he knew he needed to speak with her.

He sidled up behind her and awkwardly cleared his throat, then said, “Enjoying yourself?”

Ginevra gasped, snapping out of a trance, her cheeks burning red. “Oh! Oh, yes, of course darling. It’s an adorable little reception. Those fauns are especially cute!”

“They have a wonderful ear for music” Peter commented. After a beat of silence, he then said, “I’m surprised you’re not dancing with everyone else.”

“Well, you see, nobody asked me” Ginevra replied. If Peter hadn’t caught a slight undertone of anxiety in her own voice, he would’ve presumed she had, in fact, learned nothing. However, she said this so casually he couldn’t find an ounce of malicious intent in it. She was simply stating a fact. She turned her gaze back to the statues and added, “Besides, I’ve grown rather curious as to who these are.”

Peter swallowed back the lump in his throat. “This is a monument to the Alexandre family, the last royal family before the White Witch invaded the country” he explained. He could feel his voice beginning to breaking in his throat, but fought to control his tone. “They were very important to my lost love, and so my siblings and I decided to erect this monument to them out of respect.”

“You did all of this for her?” Ginevra asked. Peter nodded, unsure of whether she was jealous or impressed. “This love of yours must have been very special to you, you must have cared about her very much” she said quietly, swirling her wine around in her glass.

The magnificent’s heart ached. “I do” he replied. He locked his eyes on the statues of her parents, her sisters. He prayed that she was here with him, beside him, in this garden celebrating with everyone else. After a few moments, Ginevra’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“It’s funny” she said with a quiet giggle.

“What is?” Peter asked.

“All the things you have told me about this love of yours remind me so much of the stories I’ve heard of the lost Princess Eilonwy, the youngest daughter of the Alexandres” she said, then added, “Perhaps made even funnier by the fact that she must be the one daughter missing from the group here.”

The minute her name spilled from Ginevra’s mouth, a sense of discomfort filled Peter’s body. He didn’t like the way she said it—Eilonwy’s name. He didn’t like the way it rolled off her lips with that accent of hers. And he definitely did not like the implication that she was lost regardless of how true it was. “What do you know about her?” he asked, curiosity taking precedence.

“Well, legend has it that she survived the massacre that fateful night because rumors swirled that the body was never recovered. I don’t know much else about her, however, except that she was the black sheep of the family. As far as I can tell, far and wide the other nobles would joke about her behind her back for being so brash and impolite, saying they were grateful she was merely a spare rather than heir to the throne. After all, a princess has no place on battlefields. Shooting arrows and swinging swords—it’s terrible! So barbaric and disgusting, I could never…” Ginevra explained, scrunching up her face as she spoke about Eilonwy. Peter’s heart ached: here she was vilifying everything that Peter loved most about his lover. He found nothing barbaric or disgusting about it—had it not been for her expertise, he may never have felt fully prepared for the Battle of Beruna.

“You seem to know more than you think you do” Peter replied. “Where did you learn all of this, anyway?”

“My tutor taught me” she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We’re kind of required to know the history of these lands, you know. After all, Narnia is a rather large and influential land, darling! We ought to have some understanding of its backstory.”

“What else do you know about the Alexandre family?” he asked. He was genuinely curious. To tell the truth, he hadn’t learned much about Narnia’s history beyond its creation and its downfall when Jadis usurped the throne. Everything else was rather blurry and rushed.

“You act like you don’t know the history of your own country!” Ginevra exclaimed. “What a terrible king you are” she added in jest, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. He could tell she was easing her way into flirtation but he decided not to stop her. So far, it wasn’t worth making a fuss about. He would wait until things escalated, if they did at all, and then bring up the inappropriateness of the action.

“How do you know I don’t know? Maybe I’m just testing your knowledge” he replied.

“Well, darling, I’m assuming if you did know then you’d be aware of our nations’ longstanding conflict” Ginevra replied. When Peter seemed uneducated on the matter, Ginevra took it upon herself to explain in great depth. “King Lorr, the last reigning king, had a younger brother named Solomon. The two of them didn’t get along very well, and Lorr banished Solomon under false pretenses. They disagreed on how they believed the country ought to be ruled. Solomon had wonderful ideas for bettering Narnia, but Lorr wanted nothing to do with them. I suppose he thought they were rather immoral or something, though I can’t possibly see why. Anyway, Lorr banished his own brother to the Isle of Sparrow, which at that time was kept as Narnia’s federal prison, but the ship veered off course and instead landed on an otherwise uninhabited island full of savages. Nothing but violent beasts with no sense of morality or modesty. This would’ve been a rather terrible fate had Solomon not been a wildly clever man and a bit of an opportunist, at that. He saw this as a chance to create his own nation based on his own ideals and values. He claimed the island for himself, naming himself duke as he felt as if that was a far more respectable title than king. After all, all the kings he had known up until this point were rather cruel to him, his father included—he thought Lorr was the far better son, and treated him as such because he was the heir. Solomon reformed the island by putting the natives to work and built a mansion atop a hill for himself, then invaded the Isle of Sparrow to release all of the prisoners who were wrongly accused to bring to his own nation. Among them was a woman named Catherine who was imprisoned for murder though there was never any proof of her crimes. Solomon married Catherine and together they ruled their country and brought numerous children into the world who carried on their legacy and continued to build upon Solomon’s empire, which thrived considerably when Narnia went under. Many of the humans in your land never believed Solomon would amount to anything, but when Jadis usurped the throne, they all fled to Brenn in hopes of seeking forgiveness and finding safety. Solomon was never a cruel man like his brother and father, so of course he accepted them with open arms. And thus was the beginning of what we know today as my lovely little island of Brenn!”

Peter listened intently as Ginevra relayed this history to him, trying to make sense of it all. From what he had heard of King Lorr until now, he had never gotten any impression whatsoever that he was an inherently bad man. Eilonwy had undoubtedly been upset with him for not letting her join him in battle, but they both understood now it was simply a matter of keeping her safe. This, however, was far more sinister than anything he had heard of the man and Peter began to doubt its truth. How did he know Ginevra was not lying? How did he know she was not offering a biased account of the history? But then again, the more he thought about it the more he realized perhaps Eilonwy’s account was biased, as well. After all, Lorr was her father. She loved him dearly. He couldn’t imagine her saying anything bad about the man, especially in death. Ginevra, on the other hand, had no real personal connection with him and therefore she had no predisposed notions on him other than what she had heard in history lectures.

“As you can certainly believe” Ginevra went on, “I don’t very much care for King Lorr. I don’t believe he was a very brilliant ruler. He may have never caused Narnia any huge problems, but as a man I don’t hold much respect for him. If you ask me, I think he could’ve stood to be a little more open-minded to my great-great-grandfather’s ideas. He had wonderful ideas, but Lorr wouldn’t hear a word of it. He was far too rash and vicious. He lacked compassion and surely acted on impulse. Who banishes their own brother like that? Could you ever imagine doing such a thing?”

And truthfully, Peter couldn’t. No matter what transgressions Edmund may commit, he could never imagine banishing him for them. He cared about his brother far too much. His brief stint with the White Witch was proof enough of that. “I’m sorry to hear of all this” Peter finally spoke. “I had no idea our two nations had been at wit’s end with one another over something so trivial and petty.”

“It’s not your fault, darling. You had no clue” Ginevra replied, resting a hand on his upper arm. “As terrible as it all is, you know, I’m really rather grateful for what Lorr had done. If not for exiling his brother, Solomon never would’ve founded Brenn and made it what it is today: a truly prosperous nation that values trade and a time-tested caste system where everyone belongs someplace. Everyone has a purpose. It’s a rich, beautiful land that truly showcases that anyone can rise to greatness through adversity! Hence our national motto: grandez à travers le sol atteindre le soleil.”

“What does that mean?” Peter asked.

“Directly translated, it means ‘grow through the ground to reach the sun’, but it’s more of a metaphor for our resilience” Ginevra explained with a light giggle. Peter nodded, turning the phrase over in his mind. Truly, it was a beautiful statement. He had no idea how much adversity her nation had faced due to his own, but with that knowledge he had a greater amount of respect for Brenn than ever before. He always did appreciate an underdog.

“I like that” Peter replied. Then, after a few moments, he added, “I am genuinely sorry for what’s happened in the past between our nations, though. If I were king then, I would’ve never allowed such a travesty.”

A soft smile graced Ginevra’s pink, glossy lips. “That’s quite alright, darling. Like I said, things worked out alright in the end. I know many people in Brenn still hold much contempt toward Narnia, but I hope someday our two countries can mend those bonds that had been broken so many years ago. It’s time we sought compassion and forgiveness in this world.”

Peter nodded, a small smile beginning to spread across his own lips. He gazed back up at the statues of the old monarchs with a new perspective. King Lorr looked different to him now. For so long he had considered the man to be infallible and their death untimely, but Ginevra added a whole new layer to his understanding of these people. Perhaps they weren’t as perfect as he had always believed them to be. Perhaps they really weren’t worthy of so much praise. His stomach churned at the thought of having made a mistake in honoring them in this way. He wanted to be a good king, and if King Lorr was not a prime example then what did that say about him, erecting statues of him and his family? He thought about the guests drinking and dancing not too far off and wondered if they had noticed the statues, too. Did they all think Lorr was as terrible as Ginevra made him out to be, or was she just exaggerating? And if their thoughts did align with hers, then what message did that send to them about he and his siblings? His mind swirled with thought after thought, growing dizzy with contemplation. There was only one thing he knew for certain right now. Turning back to Ginevra, he nodded and replied, “One hundred years is long enough. I think its time we gave each other another chance to forgive and fix the past.”

Ginevra smiled up at him, his hair a golden halo in the setting sunlight, and it was then that she knew as well as he did that this was the dawn of a new era, one in which their two nations would amend the transgressions of the past and forge a path together.

#t: futgt #t: futgt c: twenty five #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #fanfiction #narniaff

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