The Call To The Old - An Edmund Pevensie fanfiction

Chapter forty-six

After the antics of the evening, Talia had found herself in the company of Susan. The pair had escaped early from the ball, and now sat under the moonlight.

"How did you learn to shoot an arrow so well? My whole life I have been surrounded by archers and never have I ever seen anybody shoot so passionately before." the younger girl queried.

Susan let out a humble laugh, "Where I am from the bow and arrow is an effeminate weapon; a weapon cowards hide behind to maim from afar. The bow and arrow slid naturally into my hands because I believed that, as a woman, a sword would be far to hard to ever control..." she trailed off, looking down at her feet.

Talia tried to answer for her, "So you harnessed your shooting skills to prove them wrong? That you possess traits far from cowardice? That just because you are a woman-"

"I wish it were that simple, Talia," Susan sadly smiled, "I harnessed my shooting skills because the bounds of being a woman hold onto me far tighter than I ever realised. It wasn't cowardice that prevented me from being as close to the battlefield as I would have liked, it was the words that I was taught about the fragility of my sex, the words I believed. Where I am from there was a Great War and now another one thrives, both of which only men can fight in, much like your Telmarine army here- and I was taught that women are for the kitchen and nothing else, certainly not for fighting, and thus with that mentality when I, as a scared and timid child, full of an internalised believe that women are inferior, was thrust into a battle, why would I pick up the superior weapon?"

Talia frowned, because even though the girl had experienced much of the misogyny Susan was speaking of, the girl's outlook on it all far contrasted to hers, as she made known, "But why? Why not choose the sword to prove them all wrong?"

Susan laughed, although it was far from a happy one, "because that's where you and I differ, Talia. I chose to conform to their beliefs, because I, too, believed them. When you are told to do something you question it, but I do not. And that does not make me weak, because women like you get beaten down where I am from. Just like Narnia, being as unconventional as you, is but a mere fantasy." the girl paused, "and I worry that Lucy will look to you as her role model, and when it is time for us to leave, she will carry herself in the same manner as you, and she will get hurt because of it; hurt, or arrested, or killed."

"You must feel the same as I felt growing up under the Telmarines; with my brother and father and all of the other men. I doubt I would've survived much longer without the hope Narnians brought. And even then marriage continued to be forced down me."

A lone tear ran down the face of Susan, she was jealous of Talia. Jealous that although the younger girl had survived through masses of misogyny and oppression she was now allowed the space to grow and be her independent self, away from all that once held her back. She was jealous that Talia had not internalised the beliefs that were thrown onto her. She was jealous that Talia could stay in Narnia when she had to return back to England, head off to a boarding school which would continue to underestimate what she could do and achieve, simply because of her gender. And she was angry, angry at herself because deep down she knew that despite all that Talia had taught her about what it means to be a woman, and all of the feminist beliefs she agreed with, she knew that when she returned to England her passion to conform, and to be accepted, and to be loved, and to have wealth and to provide for her future family, would outweigh all that she believed. She wanted her children to have good lives, and to do that she was prepared to betray her beliefs, and sacrifice her own happiness. And she just couldn't understand why, when Talia was given that same opportunity, to marry well and to have a successful life, she declined it, twice.

But it was now as though Talia could read Susan's mind, she mumbled, "Not everything a girl does has to be a great, empowering move." she paused, and looked over to the older girl, looking her in the eyes and continued, "I did not marry Caspian not because I wanted to inspire a woman's independence. I wanted to marry, to have a beautiful wedding, to be decorated in jewels, but I just wanted to marry someone I loved. I wanted to sew and draw and bake but Caspian was my only friend and I so desperately wanted him to be friends with me that I gave in and let him teach me how to fight, and use a sword. I didn't believe the misogyny they had taught me, not because I really thought myself as better, or even equal but because I didn't believe a word of anything they said. And even now I am hardly independent. You chose the bow and arrow because society confined you to that weapon, but you are so much more than those shackles that hold you down, and you have made that weapon mean so much more than that. You control armies, you control all of the archers, and without you your brothers would probably be dead. You are the woman your sister will look up to, not me. So teach her how to use her words as craftily as you and to fight as well as you, so that when they come to 'arrest' her or 'hurt' her, she can protect herself. And teach her that you can be a housewife, or wear make-up and dresses, or get married, or do traditional 'girly' things without it being a betrayal of beliefs. Independence is independence, you are who gets to decide what you want to be independent about, that's the whole point of independence," she smiled. "And anyways I asked you how you got to be that good at archery, not why you chose the weapon. I was expecting some tips and tricks not a deep conversation about the shackles of femininity!" Talia joked with a smile, "Although that is not to say I am not glad for the conversation."

Susan smiled at the girl seated next to her, and was overwhelmed with admiration for the girl and her perspectives on life. Where Susan was from, not many thought the way Talia did, not without being silenced. And although Talia may have been slow to catch Susan's point at the start of the conversation, Susan noted the other girl's smarts and ability to catch on quickly. The elder girl looked to the side to stare over at Talia, who's deep brunette hair had now begin to dance with the wind, "One day, Talia, I hope to teach you as much as you have taught me."

Talia smiled, Susan was quickly becoming a close friend of hers, but she couldn't help but notice the sad glint that was stapled behind her eyes. She was reminded of the moment when the older girl had spoken to her about just getting used to being in England and then being thrown back into the fantasy of Narnia. She sighed, "I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?" Susan questioned.

"You grew up. You had responsibility, you were far from the misogyny from your home, and then you just had to leave. No goodbye or anything. And then you were back where you came from, only a child, and you had to grow up all over again- taunted with the memories. And now you're back... only everyone you loved is dead and the Narnia you all knew is too, gone," she paused, "I don't think I could ever leave."

Susan looked over at the younger girl, "I think one day I'll probably think I made this all up, else I'll forever be chasing the highs. I'm not sure I could ever be happy again if I knew Narnia was always somewhere around the corner, I'd forever be looking for it; for the people, the magic, the feelings. I had a friend here once, the first time I was here- and if I don't forget her soon, I am worried I will chase across all of the earth to try to find her." Susan's tone was growing more serious now, "All I am saying, Talia, is that I have never seen Edmund act the way he does around you around anyone else. And when we return home, he will chase everywhere to find you, and I am afraid of what will happen when he cannot." Susan patted her dress down, and with a sigh she stood from her position to walk away, leaving Talia silent after her words.