![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
be_themoonTitle: Winds To Catch
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
animus_wyrmis & be_themoon & lassiterfics
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia/Mary Poppins (a mix of movieverse/bookverse)
Characters/Pairings: Susan Pevensie & Mary Poppins
Rating: PG
Warnings: none.
Wordcount: ~1,300
Summary: "Come with me," Mary says, and Susan doesn't hesitate because this is the second chance she thought she'd already lost alongside everyone who could give it to her.
Author's Note: This was an absolute JOY to write and edit. I <3 Lass and Wyrm endless, endless amounts, and I think everyone should fics where Susan runs around having friends and being AWESOME. Also, we don't really remember who wrote which parts. :P Anything to add, Lass & Wyrm? I can edit it in for you!
+
Susan has compartmentalized her life, divided it into work and home and friends and, somewhere far in the back, magic. Working at a shop is hardly a place to find magic, and besides, all of Narnia in this world has died. This world does not know of small miracles and not-quite-tame lions, but if Susan prides herself on anything, it is her ability to move on and not be crippled by fear or loss or grief. So she does just that, until the day when the East Wind starts to blow in the streets and Mary Poppins steps neatly out of the sky and takes her by the hand.
"Come with me," Mary says, and Susan doesn't hesitate because this is the second chance she thought she'd already lost alongside everyone who could give it to her. Together they walk down the street, and when Susan tries to introduce herself Mary waves her off. "Susan Pevensie," she says. "I know. I'm Mary Poppins."
The name feels familiar, the way when the East wind blew it brought the smell of salt and the sea and the sun. Mary keeps hold of Susan's hand as they walk into the park. This too feels old and familiar, a little like walking with Lucy by the sea.
+
Mary Poppins measures Susan with her tape measure and Susan measures 'frivolously stodgy, stodgily frivolous'.
"Hmm," says Mary, frowning, but she does compliment Susan on her posture.
+
The carpet bag gets bigger the deeper you reach in, and it doesn't unnerve Susan as much as she thinks it should. She does resist looking inside of it, just in case she sees branches and a wintry landscape. Anyway, it's impolite to poke around someone else's things, so she leaves it alone, and asks no questions.
Mary Poppins doesn’t take her into pictures drawn on the sidewalk or into magical wardrobes but that's fine, because Susan and Mary just drink tea and talk of sensible things, and sometimes of big things and sometimes of small things, sad things and curious things, and Susan says to Mary oh that is a darling scarf and Mary says thank you. They talk about the fashions of the day for they both like to be well-dressed, and like to take care of their looks.
It's not so much that it's important to move on, it's that there are so many other important things to focus on. Rooms to clean and children to raise and winds to catch. They've made an agreement, both of them, long ago.
+
They go to tea with Mary's cousin.
"This is Miss Pevensie," Mary Poppins says primly.
"Susan Pevensie, of course!" says Mary Poppin's cousin. "Wardrobes and horns!"
Susan feels her face go tight, and Mary Poppins says, warningly, "George!"
"Begging your pardon," he says, and they have their tea outside, on a checkered picnic blanket. They talk of simple everyday things and Susan is left to wonder if there is something written on her face that says she's been touched by magic. She wonders if it's something only Mary Poppins's family can read, or if she could learn to see it too.
"Of course," says George in an undertone as she straightens her hat, "Mary doesn't need wardrobes."
+
Tea with Bert means floating near the ceiling and dropping crumbs onto the mantle. Mary Poppins' coat and hat float beside them with her parrot-headed umbrella, but Susan's umbrella drops to the floor with a clatter. "Just think of something sad," Bert tells her, and she says lightly that perhaps she will wait until the end of the party to retrieve it.
Susan thinks, Mary Poppins has uncles and cousins but where are her brothers and sisters? Her mother and father? Susan doesn’t ask – that would be impolite.
+
She asks Mary if Bert is her, you know, her beau, and Mary says oh don't be silly. But Susan is not stupid, not even in the ways she used to be. She sees the way Mary looks at him when people are watching her and she sees the way Mary looks at him when she thinks no one can see, and she thinks she remembers what the difference means.
+
Susan wonders if Mary Poppins or George or maybe even Bert has gone to Narnia -- such things don't seem impossible anymore -- but she hasn't even mentioned the word 'Narnia' for years and why should she start now? And besides, even if they were to talk about Narnia... maybe now just isn't the time.
If Mary Poppins went to Narnia she would sniff and tell Tumnus to wear a coat, and Aslan to comb his mane. Susan can't decide if this says more about Mary Poppins or about Narnia, but she isn't sure she can see Mary dancing wildly with the Maenads any more than she can see herself doing it, now. (As it happens, Susan is wrong; Mary Poppins has danced wild dances before, although she never admits it in the morning.)
The thing about the wind is that it always comes again. The wind always changes and this is both a curse and a blessing. Susan has always loved the sea, and now she thinks that the wind is perhaps much like the sea - they always change, but at the same time they are always the same. You just hope your umbrella is strong enough.
She sees no need to tell Mary this - Mary already knows.
"Just hold on tightly and don't look down, you'll be just fine," Mary Poppins says, holding her own parasol above her head. Susan grips the handle of her parasol and doesn't tell Mary Poppins she used to ride on the backs of Gryphons. It's poor manners to one-up someone like that.
Then the wind begins to blow.
They catch the mistral from Paris to Italy. En route, Mary quizzes her on the winds. "It won't do, you know," she says, "if you're trying to get to Madrid but travel with the tramontane instead. Now tell me, Susan. You are in Zagreb. You want to go to Venice."
"I'll fly with the bora."
"You are on the Canary Islands and there are no boats leaving for the month."
"The leste will bring me to the mainland."
"You are on Sardinia, and need only a gentle breeze to take you to and fro."
"The bentu de soli will suffice."
Mary smiles, and Susan smiles back. Far below their feet are the peaks of the Pyrenees. Above their heads are their parasols, and then sky.
+
Neither of them are particularly given to tears; not anymore. They stand straight-backed, impeccably dressed and unencumbered by regrets. Susan has tamed her regrets - now they are but memories. She has her umbrella, and they both have the winds.
"Ms. Pevensie, it has been a pleasure," Mary says in her familiar clipped tones.
Susan smiles. "Likewise, Mary Poppins."
"I would say goodbye," she says, "but I know we shall meet again."
"And I consider myself lucky for it. Not all reunions are so guaranteed."
"Indeed."
"I should like to write you," says Susan, more stiffly than she means to. "If that's all right. In case I should have any questions."
Mary raises one fine eyebrow. "Ms. Pevensie, it is the duty of our station to be self-reliant. Others rely on us, and we should rely on ourselves. In any case, I mistrust the post. If you've anything to say to me, tell it to a blue jay, and I'll learn of it soon enough."
Susan looks down. "Of course."
"Come now." Mary steps forward and tips Susan's chin upward. "I'm sure you'll do quite all right."
On impulse, Susan hugs her mentor, feels her stiffen in surprise at the display. To her relief, Mary returns the hug, and Susan knows that when she thinks of Mary Poppins, she will think of this: the soft notes of jasmine and roses in her perfume, and how warm Mary's neck feels against her cheek.
+
In a Spanish garden, Susan reads a book for a dark-haired child sitting rapt with attention at her feet. Nearby a blue jay begins to sing, and Susan smiles.
Authors:
animus_wyrmis & be_themoon & lassiterfics Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia/Mary Poppins (a mix of movieverse/bookverse)
Characters/Pairings: Susan Pevensie & Mary Poppins
Rating: PG
Warnings: none.
Wordcount: ~1,300
Summary: "Come with me," Mary says, and Susan doesn't hesitate because this is the second chance she thought she'd already lost alongside everyone who could give it to her.
Author's Note: This was an absolute JOY to write and edit. I <3 Lass and Wyrm endless, endless amounts, and I think everyone should fics where Susan runs around having friends and being AWESOME. Also, we don't really remember who wrote which parts. :P Anything to add, Lass & Wyrm? I can edit it in for you!
+
Susan has compartmentalized her life, divided it into work and home and friends and, somewhere far in the back, magic. Working at a shop is hardly a place to find magic, and besides, all of Narnia in this world has died. This world does not know of small miracles and not-quite-tame lions, but if Susan prides herself on anything, it is her ability to move on and not be crippled by fear or loss or grief. So she does just that, until the day when the East Wind starts to blow in the streets and Mary Poppins steps neatly out of the sky and takes her by the hand.
"Come with me," Mary says, and Susan doesn't hesitate because this is the second chance she thought she'd already lost alongside everyone who could give it to her. Together they walk down the street, and when Susan tries to introduce herself Mary waves her off. "Susan Pevensie," she says. "I know. I'm Mary Poppins."
The name feels familiar, the way when the East wind blew it brought the smell of salt and the sea and the sun. Mary keeps hold of Susan's hand as they walk into the park. This too feels old and familiar, a little like walking with Lucy by the sea.
+
Mary Poppins measures Susan with her tape measure and Susan measures 'frivolously stodgy, stodgily frivolous'.
"Hmm," says Mary, frowning, but she does compliment Susan on her posture.
+
The carpet bag gets bigger the deeper you reach in, and it doesn't unnerve Susan as much as she thinks it should. She does resist looking inside of it, just in case she sees branches and a wintry landscape. Anyway, it's impolite to poke around someone else's things, so she leaves it alone, and asks no questions.
Mary Poppins doesn’t take her into pictures drawn on the sidewalk or into magical wardrobes but that's fine, because Susan and Mary just drink tea and talk of sensible things, and sometimes of big things and sometimes of small things, sad things and curious things, and Susan says to Mary oh that is a darling scarf and Mary says thank you. They talk about the fashions of the day for they both like to be well-dressed, and like to take care of their looks.
It's not so much that it's important to move on, it's that there are so many other important things to focus on. Rooms to clean and children to raise and winds to catch. They've made an agreement, both of them, long ago.
+
They go to tea with Mary's cousin.
"This is Miss Pevensie," Mary Poppins says primly.
"Susan Pevensie, of course!" says Mary Poppin's cousin. "Wardrobes and horns!"
Susan feels her face go tight, and Mary Poppins says, warningly, "George!"
"Begging your pardon," he says, and they have their tea outside, on a checkered picnic blanket. They talk of simple everyday things and Susan is left to wonder if there is something written on her face that says she's been touched by magic. She wonders if it's something only Mary Poppins's family can read, or if she could learn to see it too.
"Of course," says George in an undertone as she straightens her hat, "Mary doesn't need wardrobes."
+
Tea with Bert means floating near the ceiling and dropping crumbs onto the mantle. Mary Poppins' coat and hat float beside them with her parrot-headed umbrella, but Susan's umbrella drops to the floor with a clatter. "Just think of something sad," Bert tells her, and she says lightly that perhaps she will wait until the end of the party to retrieve it.
Susan thinks, Mary Poppins has uncles and cousins but where are her brothers and sisters? Her mother and father? Susan doesn’t ask – that would be impolite.
+
She asks Mary if Bert is her, you know, her beau, and Mary says oh don't be silly. But Susan is not stupid, not even in the ways she used to be. She sees the way Mary looks at him when people are watching her and she sees the way Mary looks at him when she thinks no one can see, and she thinks she remembers what the difference means.
+
Susan wonders if Mary Poppins or George or maybe even Bert has gone to Narnia -- such things don't seem impossible anymore -- but she hasn't even mentioned the word 'Narnia' for years and why should she start now? And besides, even if they were to talk about Narnia... maybe now just isn't the time.
If Mary Poppins went to Narnia she would sniff and tell Tumnus to wear a coat, and Aslan to comb his mane. Susan can't decide if this says more about Mary Poppins or about Narnia, but she isn't sure she can see Mary dancing wildly with the Maenads any more than she can see herself doing it, now. (As it happens, Susan is wrong; Mary Poppins has danced wild dances before, although she never admits it in the morning.)
The thing about the wind is that it always comes again. The wind always changes and this is both a curse and a blessing. Susan has always loved the sea, and now she thinks that the wind is perhaps much like the sea - they always change, but at the same time they are always the same. You just hope your umbrella is strong enough.
She sees no need to tell Mary this - Mary already knows.
"Just hold on tightly and don't look down, you'll be just fine," Mary Poppins says, holding her own parasol above her head. Susan grips the handle of her parasol and doesn't tell Mary Poppins she used to ride on the backs of Gryphons. It's poor manners to one-up someone like that.
Then the wind begins to blow.
They catch the mistral from Paris to Italy. En route, Mary quizzes her on the winds. "It won't do, you know," she says, "if you're trying to get to Madrid but travel with the tramontane instead. Now tell me, Susan. You are in Zagreb. You want to go to Venice."
"I'll fly with the bora."
"You are on the Canary Islands and there are no boats leaving for the month."
"The leste will bring me to the mainland."
"You are on Sardinia, and need only a gentle breeze to take you to and fro."
"The bentu de soli will suffice."
Mary smiles, and Susan smiles back. Far below their feet are the peaks of the Pyrenees. Above their heads are their parasols, and then sky.
+
Neither of them are particularly given to tears; not anymore. They stand straight-backed, impeccably dressed and unencumbered by regrets. Susan has tamed her regrets - now they are but memories. She has her umbrella, and they both have the winds.
"Ms. Pevensie, it has been a pleasure," Mary says in her familiar clipped tones.
Susan smiles. "Likewise, Mary Poppins."
"I would say goodbye," she says, "but I know we shall meet again."
"And I consider myself lucky for it. Not all reunions are so guaranteed."
"Indeed."
"I should like to write you," says Susan, more stiffly than she means to. "If that's all right. In case I should have any questions."
Mary raises one fine eyebrow. "Ms. Pevensie, it is the duty of our station to be self-reliant. Others rely on us, and we should rely on ourselves. In any case, I mistrust the post. If you've anything to say to me, tell it to a blue jay, and I'll learn of it soon enough."
Susan looks down. "Of course."
"Come now." Mary steps forward and tips Susan's chin upward. "I'm sure you'll do quite all right."
On impulse, Susan hugs her mentor, feels her stiffen in surprise at the display. To her relief, Mary returns the hug, and Susan knows that when she thinks of Mary Poppins, she will think of this: the soft notes of jasmine and roses in her perfume, and how warm Mary's neck feels against her cheek.
+
In a Spanish garden, Susan reads a book for a dark-haired child sitting rapt with attention at her feet. Nearby a blue jay begins to sing, and Susan smiles.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 07:09 pm (UTC)Thank you, thank you. Everything is better with Edmund, I suppose, but really, everything is better with Susan too. No character seems better suited to the cross over. Her fortitude and vision, her willingness to DO, to fly with a parasol is just wonderful. I wonder what Susan has if it is not a carpet bag? This made me so very, very happy on a very slow day.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 07:21 pm (UTC)My fave part, I think, was Mary quizzing Susan on the winds - so matter of fact and genteel and THEM. And the MAENADS. Of COURSE Mary Poppins has danced with the Maenads - wildly dancing and all the while making sure that her skirt doesn't fly up and expose her ankles, and not a hair out of place afterwards.
And the TEA. Susan doesn't want to think of anything sad!!! I'm thinking that that's a really good thing, the way I read that scene - she isn't wallowing, she knows her grief but doesn't let it own her, and it's so good!
"Mary Poppins measures Susan with her tape measure and Susan measures 'frivolously stodgy, stodgily frivolous'.
"Hmm," says Mary, frowning, but she does compliment Susan on her posture. "
UM THAT IS FABULOUS. I don't even have any coherent words for why, but it IS. And then it's not like they ever re-measure Susan, but I think we all know that if, at the end, they did, then Susan too would be 'practically perfect in every way.' Like you three are. LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT!!
no subject
Date: 2010-04-10 07:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 03:13 am (UTC)Mary Poppins doesn’t take her into pictures drawn on the sidewalk or into magical wardrobes but that's fine, because Susan and Mary just drink tea and talk of sensible things, and sometimes of big things and sometimes of small things, sad things and curious things, and Susan says to Mary oh that is a darling scarf and Mary says thank you. They talk about the fashions of the day for they both like to be well-dressed, and like to take care of their looks.
*\o/*
FRABJOUS DAY!
::applauds::
no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 03:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 03:35 am (UTC)<333 for you
Date: 2010-04-11 06:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 01:59 pm (UTC)As far as I am concerned, this is what happened to Susan. Lovely, lovely, lovely stuff.
...
Date: 2010-04-11 07:02 pm (UTC)EPIC WIN.
In all seriousness, when I first saw you talk about this story, I felt a little iffy at the whole premise. Boy have you proven me wrong. This is WONDERFUL! The whole thing has just the right amount of magic and whimsy mixed with both Susan and Mary's absolute matter-of-factness that it just works perfectly.
And OF COURSE Mary lets loose with the Maenads! lol That's practically perfect in every way, hehe, as is her quizzing Susan on the winds. SUSAN, btw, is just perfect here. I love everything about this story! Wonderful job to all of you ladies!
Re: <333 for you
Date: 2010-04-11 07:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-12 07:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-12 07:53 am (UTC)Also, I want to imagine that somewhere across the Atlantic Susan's wind entangles briefly with that of Dorothy Gale. You've created such a magical world I want to arm every lost girl with an umbrella and a stiff upper lip.
<33333333 FOREVER
Re: <333 for you
Date: 2010-04-12 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-12 05:58 pm (UTC)I loved the details of all the winds, and Susan always being polite, and we all know that Mary would dance, but would never admit to it!
no subject
Date: 2010-04-12 09:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-14 01:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-29 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-02 09:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-10 01:18 pm (UTC)