tamikaflynned:

fyeahsusanpevensie:

isaekkiya:

tamikaflynned:

No but the dynamic between Edmund and Susan Pevensie is so important.

The traitor that was and the traitor that would be; the dark to the light of the Valiant and the Magnificent. Lucy and Peter are all overt and loud and brash and you see the work of their hands. They are not known for their subtlety.

But Edmund. Susan. You do not get called the Just without getting blood on your hands that no one but you will ever see. People headcanon Edmund as the spymaster of the Pevensies and I can completely understand why.

(He learned viciousness in school hallways and a wintry land. No matter how much you may mend, no matter how just you become, no matter how good— and he did all of these things— you never outrun the knowledge of the shadows, and he uses this to advantage.

Besides, what better way to use the abilities that the wolves and dark dwarves who came to him for clemency know best?)

You can always know what Peter is thinking; know that if ever comes a time the High King wants you dead, you will see it coming and die looking into those bright eyes as he runs his sword through you. The Just King learned to hide hurt under a veneer of belligerence and learned how to use that to create an impassive mask. If Edmund Pevensie wants you gone, nobody knows what happens to you until it’s far too late to do anything about it.

And Susan. Susan, the Gentle one, courted by kings. Among all those kings, surely there must have been at least one she didn’t favor. Surely one she didn’t care for, whose presence made her uncomfortable or who she simply didn’t find entertaining. You are not called the Gentle if you snub people, if you insult a man by turning him away with honesty— you are called much worse things.

(Susan, Gentle Susan, how many believed that beautiful mask you wore that told them there was still a chance even as you were waving them out the door? The princes that came for Lucy knew when they was out of favour— the Valiant one is a lioness. Lionesses do not know how to let someone down gently. You do not have that luxury when you are being wooed by kings. Men have done terrible things when a woman has told them ‘no’ outright.)

Both Edmund and Susan have learned to wear masks; to hide in shadows when it suits them. That creates an understanding between the two of them that’s hard to break.

So I like to think that Edmund understood when they were banished from Narnia and found this world lacking— Susan more than any of them. I like to think that when he saw her going out with lipstick red as blood (never as red as the Narnian standard; only Lucy is able to wear that red without it hurting,) he knew that it was just her putting on armor to try to fight for her own power (in the way the Gentle Queen has always known how to fight— Gentle does not mean safe, has never meant safe. Narnians know that better than anyone.)

I hope that in the New Narnia, he took Jill and Polly and Eustace aside and reminded them that all apparent traitors have their motivations; that every traitor can mend, even and especially those who were never so off-track at the heart of things. I hope he never lost faith in his sister because goodness knows that she and the others never really lost faith in him.

I’d never thought of this before, but now picturing Edmund picking Susan up from soirees she never wanted to go to (or thought she should want to go to, or maybe even does want to go to), wearing lipstick like a sword and nylons like armor—I imagine him picking her up with an umbrella on his arm (she never bothers to carry one) and a few Empirin in his pocket (in case she’d had too much drink). I imagine her not needing to say a word but slipping an arm around his and tucking her neck into his shoulders and where any other man (including Peter) would tell her, you look beautiful, Edmund knows far better and just steers her towards home, feet echoing on the cobblestones in the quiet of night. He waits for her to change into a nightgown and strip off her face and for a second he can see the girl he grew up with hiding among the layers of concealment Susan’s always had to play with.

He doesn’t mention Narnia with her. He doesn’t have to. Susan was a queen regardless of whether or not she wore a crown curling into her hair. And while Edmund had always needed the validation, the strength of a title and the power of a throne, Susan had managed to win wars with a few words and sidestep battle with a promise of favor.

“Had a good evening?”

Susan will never say no. “So-so. The refreshments were lovely. Great networking opportunities.” She weighs every word carefully, precisely. Her hair is long and wispy when it’s loose and Edmund thinks the world is missing out on the beauty of Susan, undone.

Edmund turns around and stares out the window and watches snow beginning to dust the rooftops of London. He swallows sharply. “I’m meeting up with Peter in a bit. We’re going to retrieve some…objects for the Professor.”

Susan sighs. “I wish you wouldn’t, Edmund. You’re much better than that.”

Edmund is in university studying laws. He might not be king ever again, and he might be too tired these days to truly believe in justice (like a king ever could—a Just king learns to fight with poison instead of a blade and words instead of rules), but Edmund does believe in gifting people second chances and fighting for their right to make mistakes. He knows Susan is skeptical, would have preferred him study something slightly more useful like medicine, but Edmund thinks that once upon a time he traded his future for a box of sweets and candies, and there’s still a debt to be paid to karma.

When he turns around, he sees that Susan’s face is tired and her shoulders are stiff. She look exhausted—entertaining friends and pretending to be charmed by every boy who calls her beauty unworldly, who touched her cheek and asks for a dance all take their toll—and Edmund feels himself sink down onto her carpeted floor, barely resisting an urge to press his lips chastely against the knuckles of her hand. “You’re my favorite older sister, Sue.”

“I’m your only older sister.” But she smiles and a few years fall off of her face. Edmund’s stomach warms.

“Ah yes. Always manage to forget that.”

Wind rattles against the windowpanes. It’s late. Edmund should leave. He’ll be meeting up with Peter to retrieve the magical rings from somewhere in a railway station tomorrow. He really should be getting home.

“Stay,” Susan asks, only to Edmund it sounds like a promise, like a commandment. There are people who go through hell and are forever bound by their experiences—Edmund has ruined men for hurting his sister, the Queen who could never allow herself to look hurt. And then there are siblings, friends, two souls who sit on the edge of a bed in a castle that is too large and privately wonder if this is the rest of their life. (I miss mother, Susan would say, looking far too old in her embroidered nightgown. Edmund would stare at the stone and say, I never should have started all of this, and rub at his eyes and soundlessly beg for the clemency Susan has always, always afforded him.)

He shouldn’t. But he will. Susan has always believed in Edmund as severely as Lucy believed in Aslan. And in return, Edmund has always been her most loyal of subjects. Because it is far easier to be purely Good than it is to be moderate and endlessly Gentle.

“Oh Susan. Always.”

(And, true to his word, for Edmund, Susan is always.)

#REALTALK i have a huge thing for susan and a huge thing for edmund because#honestly it’s so easy to be good and righteous when the world seems simple and when you feel magic (when you don’t need to believe it)#faith is hard and faith that fails you is hardest and i can only imagine#that the two who have fallen hardest leaving narnia might seek one another out#susan for always looking out for edmund when no one else would#edmund refusing to allow lucy’s simple anger and peter’s frustration#with susan’s desire to excuse herself from the endless family teatime dates where all they do is remember#he lifetimes they’ve lives as royalty (tea growing cold in their cups)#to color the way he sees or interacts with his sister.#i imagine peter and lucy are closest as well#they communicate almost wordlessly and lucy’s joy cuts through peter’s severity (that sometimes borders on crushing depression)#for peter there is lucy. and for susan? there is edmund.#sharp and dark and always on her side. [x]

sting-like-jelly takemeinyourdream queerhazeleyes ambientmagic eternalgirlscout someone made my meta better

     ❝ I CANNOT _{believe i was so blinded.}   ❞   _{the floor of the splendor hyaline} rocks gently _{beneath her PACING FEET, skirts} swishing _{with every turn. there’s a KNOT in her stomach,} slowly unraveling _{with every inch they sail towards HOME : even as her hands continue to twist and wring, fingertips trembling. rabadash was a brute, horrid through and through, and yet she had allowed herself to be DAZZLED AND SWAYED. bless dear tumnus and his clever thinking…. and yet it couldn’t be so simple, could it ?? susan exhales a long, shuddering breath before turning her} anguished gaze _{to her brother.}   ❝ YOU MUST _{think me a fool.}  ❞  _{// @traitormend}

    ❝   THEY ALWAYS _{say that, don’t they  ?? it will be over soon.}  ❞    _{she doesn’t mean to sound so bitter, so tired : words falling JAGGED AND SHARP. it doesn’t suit her pretty mouth, people would say. but there are some days where she feels so old, seen countless wars, and all she longs for is DETACHMENT. a simple severing from the ache. she gives a small sniff, keeping her gaze focused upon the article before her eyes without TRULY SEEING the words.}   ❝   PERHAPS _{i grew WEARY of reading about constant death and despair.}   ❞  _{// @traitormend // CONTINUED.}