Work Header

The Lady Of Calormen

Work Text:

He knew the others weren’t a fan of this plan. Peter wasn’t so hot on it himself, but there was no other way to seal their alliance with the Calormen.

“Peter, I don’t see why one our Archenland allies couldn’t be the one to seal the treaty. Why do you have to marry her?” Edmund demanded.

His brother sighed.

“Because Ed, it’s my duty as High King. That, and... I wasn’t going to let them force you into anything you clearly didn’t want.”

“Yes, but--”

“Enough about it. What’s done is done.”

Edmund was clearly dissatisfied, but he didn’t protest it any further.

“When is she arriving?”

“This afternoon.”


(Y/N) was nervous. She had never met the High King--never even see him, actually. It was quite terrifying to know that your entire future is going to be forced on you... (Y/N)’s father was a Calormen noble in close confidence with the leadership of the nation. She had been granted the honor of sealing the treaty with Narnia.

Some honor. She was terrified! But there was nothing she could possibly do. So, as the caravan arrived at Cair Paravel, she took a deep breath to calm herself.

Both of the Queens and the King were already waiting in the courtyard, but the High King was nowhere to be found. The younger Queen flashed a warm smile and walked over to (Y/N) as she dismounted.

“Hello, I’m Lucy. That’s my sister, Susan, and my brother, Edmund. I do hope you’ll be comfortable here...”

(Y/N) bowed her head.

“My lady...”

“Oh please, there’s no need for that...” said the other Queen, Susan. “If we’re going to be family, you should call us by our names.”

These people seemed very kind... Not at all what she had expected. While they might not have been happy about the situation, the Narnian lieges certainly seemed as though they’d do everything to make her comfortable.

However, she had yet to meet her fiance...

“Very well... Susan... I’m (Y/N).”

Susan smiled kindly.

“I’m afraid Peter had some urgent business to attend to. It came up rather suddenly and couldn’t be avoided, but he’ll join us for supper.”

Peter... Not a bad name.

“Would you like to see the castle?” Lucy asked.

(Y/N) nodded shyly, then followed as the Narnian royals showed her around.

All the while, the growing anxiety in her gut only intensified. What would happen when she met High King Peter?


At supper that night, she waited nervously, shifting in her seat. Her father glared sharply, clearly indicating that it wasn’t proper behaviour for a lady to fidget. (Y/N) tried to sit still, but her nerves were getting the better of her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Finally, the Kings and Queens arrived. All of them.

(Y/N) nearly forgot how to think when she laid eyes on him. He was tall and extremely handsome, with hair like gold thread, finer than any in Calormen. His eyes held the barest hint of kind amusement and his smile was gentle.

Suddenly, (Y/N) found herself feeling somewhat self-conscious. What would he think of her? She knew she was certainly not the most beautiful woman her country had to offer... In fact, she felt certain that she had only been offered as the condition of the treaty due to her family’s status. She was no princess, however, and most definitely not fit to be a queen, in her opinion.

Before she could let her thoughts wander any further, her gaze met the High King’s. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach and she felt for sure that she was blushing. Peter too seemed entranced, until King Edmund nudged him towards his place at the table.

“Mind yourself, girl,” her father hissed under his breath. “If you mess this up, there’ll be hell to pay, I’m warning you.”

“’Mess it up’?” Peter repeated tersely. Apparently (Y/N)’s father had not been as subtle as he’d wished. “I daresay that would be quite difficult to do, seeing as the treaty has already been signed... Perhaps you might explain what you meant by that, Lord (L/N)?”

The High King’s tone was strict and almost... warning, in a way. It gave (Y/N) the strangest feeling in her chest. Her father cleared his throat nervously.

“Well you see, sire, my... daughter... is not the most beautiful candidate that we had to offer, however she was the only option... I hope you aren’t displeased is all I meant.”

‘Only option’... As if he hadn’t groveled before how many of his noble friends in order to secure this? He was merely afraid that (Y/N) would pull some sort of stunt to escape an arranged marriage by making King Peter dislike her or find her unsuitable.

The High King fixed Lord (L/N) with a look.

“I am displeased, but not by your daughter. By you. You are forcing her into something she wishes no part of, but she and I are both honour-bound to our countries to uphold our word. Yet all the while, you insult her? That is no way to treat your daughter.” He looked over to (Y/N). “I offer my sincerest apologies, my lady. Would you care to walk with me? I find it easier to clear my head when in better company.”

She nervously glanced at her father before nodding and rising to join Peter.


The walk was mostly silent. The sun was setting as Peter led her to the beach, the waves crashing rhythmically against the shore.

“I hope you won’t think me too forward, but you are very beautiful in my opinion,” Peter said suddenly.

(Y/N) frowned, a bit confused.

“You surely can’t mean that.”

“Surely I can...” the High King replied, seemingly surprised that she didn’t believe him. “Why would you think otherwise?”

She looked down.

“As my father pointed out, I am hardly the fairest maiden our land had to offer...”

Peter looked her in the eyes.

“You are beautiful my lady, do not doubt it.”

“(Y/N)...” she said, blushing. “That’s my name...”

He smiled and she was sure she’d melt.

“(Y/N)...” The way he said her name made her feel safe and wanted. “It’s very beautiful. It suits you...”

She couldn’t help but blush harder.

“Thank you, my lord...”

“Peter. That’s my name,” he repeated her words, smiling with a slight mischievous glint.

(Y/N) giggled softly.

“Very well then, Peter . It is a fine name.” She grinned. “It suits you.”

He laughed softly.

“Why thank you.”

All the apprehension (Y/N) had felt earlier was draining away. The more time she spent with Peter, the more comfortable she felt. And perhaps, she thought, things were not as terrible as they seemed.