Title: Disruptive, dear sir
Day/Theme: 20. Snore
Series: Chronicles of Narnia
Character/Pairing: Susan Pevensie
Rating: PG13



Someone was snoring, quiet and disruptive, a persistent buzz of breath. Susan tapped the red feather she'd purchased in a small curio shop against her book, watching the water move, and listened to the wind stir, too-quiet, over the waves.

In Narnia, a ship was never quiet. It wasn't here, either, not really, the ship's engine going, distant sounds of music, but it was a cleaner noise in Narnia.

Everything seemed cleaner, in her memories of Narnia.

The man continued to snore. She tapped again, once more, twice, wondered if anyone would notice if she rose to go roll him over on his deck chair, wondered if it would be worth it.

When I was Queen, she thought in a sudden spurt of crossness, no matter how hard she'd been trying to direct the thoughts away from what-was and what-could-have-been, I could have ordered him thrown overboard. She never would have, of course, but it was a comforting thought.

The snore crescendoed in a fit of snorting; perhaps he'd inhaled something, a fact more likely by the moment as he continued to choke and finally irritably stood up. Susan fixed her eyes on the cover of her book, brushing the feather over her pursed lips to hide her smile--this, however, was familiar--a Queen must be decorous always, her dignity a precious commodity--and waited until his shadow passed her to look up again, watching the waves.

If she focused right, the railing blurred and she was left only with the endless swallowing expanse of water, the bright irrepressible stretch of the sky, marred only occasionally by faint scudding clouds. The birds with their white wings, catching drafts of rising air, soaring without boundary.

She could almost ignore the engine, and the people murmuring around her. She could almost ignore the folded sunglasses in her lap, and the book in her hand.

It was almost like being home.

Tags: susan pevensie