Author's Note: My first ever fan fiction! : ) I hope you guys really like it! I got the idea about a few nights ago and thought, 'Why not?'
These are the Pevensies' ages in this fic:
Queen Susan the Gentle was currently staring at herself in the intricately carved full-length mirror in front of her. She wasn't, in fact, looking at herself because she was captivated by her own beauty. No, it was far from that. She was absolutely horrified.
'Oh, Aslan.' she breathed.
'You look ravishing, Your Highness.' her Royal Tailor, Madam Voral crooned, adjusting something on the back of her dress.
'Ravishing? I look like a peacock!' Susan spluttered, turning her head this way and that.
Today was the day the four Kings and Queen would have their Royal Portrait painted. Susan had felt no real foreboding to the day until the moment she saw her self wearing this monstrosity.
It was a lavish color of red and it had a ridiculously long train. It was itchy and heavily ruffled. There was a large bow hanging on her waist and the collar of her gown stretched nearly a foot tall. The sleeves were big and puffy. Susan could feel something poking into her behind, and it wasn't comfortable. She could barely breathe as the corset Madam Voral had laced up for her was currently attempting to strangle her. Susan made a resolution to ban corsets from Narnia after she was done with this portrait. But that wasn't the worst part.
Susan could practically feel the creamy curves of her breasts nudging her chin. She felt like a prostitute. Apparently, her chest was supposed look like this. ('It makes you look more womanly, Your Highness!' Madam Voral had protested.) The boning in her Royal Gown were pushing them up until Susan was sure they would stay that way forever, defying gravity.
'There! Perfect!' Madam Voral finished fiddling with the back of her dress and straightened up. Susan tried to walk and found that she couldn't.
'A little help here!' she said, feeling rather foolish as she stood as straight as a pin. Susan blamed the dress. What exactly was it made of, for it to be as stiff as this.
'Oh yes!' Madam Voral forcibly pushed Susan towards a high-backed chair. Susan nearly toppled over and her arms flailed, trying to find something to hold on to. Madam Voral caught her in time and shoved her on the chair. Susan swore that she heard something rip, but Madam Voral seemed to think that sitting like this while wearing this gown was doable.
'My favorite part!' Madam Voral clapped her hands excitedly. She went behind Susan and she heard a lot of clinking noises. It sounded like Madam Voral was taking something out from a pouch of some sort. Of course, Susan would've turned around to see for herself but it was near impossible.
'What are you doing?' Susan tried to sound calm and collected but she couldn't help but feel a little nervous. After hours of getting into that gown she reassured herself that nothing could be worse than that.
'Why, your hair and your face, of course!'
Susan took it all back. She was officially in a nightmare.
Two hours later, after much moans and groans, she was ready. Susan could barely feel her face by now. She looked at herself in the mirror once again and she decided that she looked like a walking, talking cosmetics store. No, she looked like one of those girls back at London, those who spent their nights partying away and flirting with boys.
Her eyebrows here plucked finely and her face was powdered. Red rouge was rubbed on her cheeks and her lips were painted red. Her hair was teased into a large, unrecognizable, beehive-like thing at the back of her head and it was standing straight up in the air like a mountain.
'You look beautiful.' Madam Voral said proudly. 'No need to thank me, Your Highness.'
Susan had never felt more ugly and ridiculous in her life, including the time when she had a massive outbreak of acne when she was thirteen. She restrained herself from ripping her gown off entirely and said tersely, 'Shall I go now? Where will the Royal Portrait be painted?'
'I will lead you there.' Madam Voral tucked her flabby hand into the crook oh her stiffly positioned arm and led her out the door. Susan waddled-- yes, waddled, there really was no other word for the odd, shuffling movements she was making -- out the door.
At that moment, King Peter the Magnificent was making his way out from his room. Susan had to stifle her giggles, forgetting momentarily that she looked as stupid as he did. He definitely looked as uncomfortable as Susan did. His hair was brushed back in an unnatural way, making it look like a wavy disaster. Peter's tunic was as stiff as a piece of blue metal and on it emblazoned in gold was his initials, PP. The tunic was paired with lighter blue leggings and his fur cape was nearly as long as her train.
At least he can walk properly, Susan thought. Peter's eyes widened when he saw Susan. In a flash, Susan realized it was her chest. Her mood immediately soured. Susan got the feeling that Peter was vaguely embarrassed by this. His eyes drifted somewhere near her breasts and Susan couldn't help but snap, 'Eyes up ahead, Peter.'
Peter's eyes swiveled away and he spluttered. 'I wasn't-- Don't get the wrong idea-- I mean, I've never seen you look like that in my whole life! Don't blame me! This portrait thing is absolutely ridiculous.' When Peter finished, his whole face was flushed red.
'I know.' Susan sighed, waddling closer to Peter. 'Let's just get this over with.' her breath came in short ragged gasps as that damned corset strained against her stomach.
Peter took a closer look at Susan. Susan could tell that he was trying to stop himself from laughing hysterically. 'And I thought that I had it worse. Glad I'm not a girl. How does your hair stay that way?' Peter wondered out loud, reaching out a hand.
'Don't touch it!' Susan snarled, not knowing exactly why she was defending her hair. Peter withdrew his hand instantly and pondered about why Susan was given the title Gentle.
On the way to the Royal Portrait room, many Narnian creatures either stumbled, choked on whatever they were drinking, or just plain stared at them when they passed by. A female faun actually dropped a stack of porcelain dishes. Also, a great number of people accidentally stepped on Susan's train and Peter's cloak.
They both eventually made it to the Royal Portrait room, which to Susan was considered as a feat of heroic proportions. Her back was noticeably more sore now and there was a growing itch in her Royal Behind that couldn't go unnoticed.
It was a small room, with a large backdrop of a part of the Narnian Forest. There was a wooden stool in the middle of the room, in which Queen Lucy the Valiant was currently sitting on. Her jaw dropped. It'll have to be surgically removed from the floor, Susan thought dryly.
'Wow… you two… um, look lovely.' On the word 'lovely', Lucy abruptly broke into peals of laughter. Susan sighed and took a look at Lucy's get-up. Actually, Lucy didn't look that bad. Her gown was considerably less extravagant then Susan's and was a lovely forest green. Her makeup was kept to a minimum but Susan noticed that Lucy had a proper chest. Lucy saw her older sister's looks. She stopped laughing and said, 'Boning. It hurts like mad. You?'
Peter groaned. 'My behind is itching up a storm.' Lucy giggled.
'This portrait business is probably the stupidest thing we've ever done.'
'I second that.'
'Where's Edmund?' Susan asked curiously. At that exact moment, King Edmund the Just chose to make his appearance. He walked as though there was a large wooden board strapped to his back. His attire was identical to Peter's except in a violent shade of purple. There was a look of unadulterated revulsion on his face.
'I. Will. Kill. Whoever's. Idea. This. Was.' Edmund breathed heavily, glaring at each and every one of them.
'Calm down, Ed, we're all wearing the same thing.' Peter said, gesturing at his tunic.
'Mine is in PURPLE.' Edmund pointed out. 'And my hair!' he pointed to his head. Susan had to admit that it certainly was rather horrifying. His dark brown locks were combed back and it was very stiff.
Lucy let out an involuntary peal of laughter and clapped her hand over her mouth. 'I shall restrain myself,' she swore, giggle-snorting.
'It's not funny.' Edmund growled.
'It might not be, but Susan's hair certainly is.' Peter grinned.
Edmund stared at Susan's beehive of a hairstyle. There was a long pause. 'You look horrible.' he said bluntly.
'Oh, really? Look who's talking.' Susan shot back.
'Your Majesties,' a high, squeaky voice said. The four Kings and Queens whirled around to see that a man with particularly hairy sideburns had entered the room. 'Allow me to introduce myself. I am Janu, your Royal Portrait painter! Now, if High King Peter and Queen Susan will stand behind… yes, King Edmund, will look better if he stood behind Queen Susan… and Queen Lucy!' Janu directed. 'Will, your Highness please sit on that wooden stool right there? Perfect!' Janu clapped his hands excitedly.
'Could you please make this quicker?' Edmund said in a snappish tone.
'Why yes! Some even say that I'm the quickest painter in Narnia! Why, this once, I painted Queen Rinal the Generous's Royal Portrait in under 3 minutes! Is that not amazing, your Highnesses? In fact, it's still hanging in--'
'Sometime today please.' Susan couldn't help but say sharply.
'Yes, yes, I apologize.' Janu whistled a merry tune as bustled around the room looking for something. Susan felt increasingly impatient as she watched Janu walk around and around, muttering to himself, 'Now, where did I put that set of paints?' and scratching his head thoughtfully. Something sharp was jutting into her back and she was sure that it would leave a large red welt.
All of a sudden, she felt something poke her side. Susan turned around and saw that Peter had a mysterious smile on his face. Susan couldn't help but smile too as she poked him back. Seconds later, she felt Lucy nudge her with her elbow. Lucy discreetly pointed towards the direction of Janu. Susan glanced at him and saw that Janu was currently bending over and exposing his, er, Royal Behind, so to speak.
Normally, Susan never found crude humor funny but she could feel a giggle rising up in her throat. Edmund still had a grumpy look on his face but after a few sound pokes from Lucy, he was hiding a smile too.
Peter slowly reached out and tickled Lucy under her armpits, where she was most ticklish. Lucy gave a squeal and jumped off the stool.
'Whatever is the matter?' Janu looked up, astonished.
'Nothing. Carry on with your searching.' Peter said in his most regal voice, the one that Edmund had 'affectionately' dubbed his frog-with-down-syndrome voice. Edmund guffawed and stopped. As quick as a flash, Peter mussed up Edmund's ridiculous hair.
Edmund gave a small shout and turned around. Susan got a full view of his hair and he looked so funny that Susan just had laugh. As soon as she had laughed, it seemed that the other three were laughing too. Edmund, abandoning all pretence, managed to tackle Peter onto the ground. Susan loosened the laces on her bodice quickly to free her lungs and jumped on top of Edmund, giggling. This was one of the family moments that were few and far between these days, and Susan didn't care if she had to do all her makeup again if she got to spend a few happy moments with her family.
Lucy was squealing with joy as Peter tickled her again. Edmund, who had said more than once that he abhorred physical contact with females, jumped on top of Susan and let out a war-cry. Susan let out a mock scream and tried to run away, only to have Edmund grab her train, yelling, 'No one escapes from King Edmund the Just!' and proceeded to beat his chest with his fists. Susan vaguely felt her train giving way but she couldn't care less.
After a few more minutes of tussling, they eventually calmed down and felt rather guilty of what they had done. Those long hours of preparation were wasted and they were almost certainly a mess. Susan could feel her hair hanging down and her lips were smeared red.
To their surprise, they found Janu painting furiously on a canvas. His front was dotted with paint splatters. Apparently, Janu had been painting when they were playing. But what exactly was he painting?
Lucy was the first one to walk over to Janu. She let out a gasp of delight when she saw the painting. 'Oh Janu, you're the best painter on earth!' Lucy proclaimed. 'Hey Su, come over here, look what Janu's painted.'
Susan made her way towards Janu. She thought that maybe her heart might've stopped when she saw the painting. Peter and Edmund hurried over. Peter let out a soft, 'oh!' but Edmund was silent.
'Just a few more strokes..' Janu muttered, swirling his brush around. 'There… perfect.' he smiled, satisfied.
Janu had painted exactly what he saw just now. On every royal's face there was pure joy that Janu had captured with his paint brush impeccably. Lucy had a exultant beam on her face as Peter was tickling her. Edmund was in the middle of beating his chest with his fists and Susan was fighting him off. The Susan in the painting was a far cry from the Susan she normally was but she liked it this way.
Edmund reached out to stroke his face in the painting. Amazingly, the paint had already dried. 'It's flawless.' Edmund said.
Susan was rather surprised. She had expected Edmund to complain, saying that it was too garish, or too improper. She caught Edmund's eye and smiled. He grinned back. She looked once more at Janu's masterpiece and decided that this was exactly how she had pictured their Royal Portrait would be.
Author's Note: WELL? What did ya guys think? I thought the ending was rather awkward, though. I don't think I can handle any flames right now, but if you must, go ahead. I wholly accepted criticism and I would appreciate advice. Now… you are feeling a need to move your mouse over to that purplish-blue/bluish-purple button right there…. ;)