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edenfallingHere is another Narnia genderswap character study, this one of Laurie Pevensie. He's been the hardest of the siblings for me to get hold of, probably because he's the closest to his canon counterpart. So far the only overt differences seem to be a greater penchant for categorizing things -- he makes lists and analogies and has a thing about spatial arrangements -- and an increased perceptiveness toward his family. But the latter is, I think, just a product of growing up in a different and tenser family situation; Lucy would probably be equally sensitive if she'd had a similarly troubled family, and if the tension had been going on for years instead of just one.
I expect the differences will grow as Laurie gets older, but even so, it surprises me how little change switching Lucy's gender seems to make.
Anyway. Laurie Pevensie's world always makes sense, even if his siblings don't see what he does. (550 words)
[ETA: The AO3 crosspost is now up!]
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Anchor Points
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Laurie's world is simple and exact. Every thing is in its proper place. Each event happens at its proper time. All people play the roles they were born for.
He tries to explain this sometimes, but nobody seems to understand, though it's really very simple.
Mary is north, the compass. She protects Laurie and tells him how to listen to the little voice in his heart that knows the right thing to do. She is always alone, like the pole star, and everyone else circles around her, waiting for her to show them their paths.
Stephen is west, where the sun sinks into shadow. He is patient and calm, he smoothes over troubles until people stop fighting, and he knows all kinds of secrets. Sometimes he shares them with Laurie. He is the unknown lands beneath the ocean where light has never shined.
Edith is south, for sweetness and lies. Mary keeps Laurie safe but Edith keeps him happy: she plays games with him, makes him breakfast and lunch, remembers to put on his boots and coat in the winter to keep him warm. She is never alone, and she burns like a forge.
Laurie is east, where the sun rises. He tries to see the best in people, because there's always something good in everyone. He knows things will get better. He knows the light is coming.
"I'm no compass," Mary says brokenly. "I wish you'd stop trying to save me." But she holds Laurie in the darkness when he wakes from nightmares and promises that no troubles last forever. She sings him back to sleep.
"There's nothing mysterious about me," Stephen says easily. "I'm no help to anyone." But he teaches Laurie how to do subtraction without counting on his fingers, and shows him how to hold a pen without cramping his hand.
"I don't lie," Edith says fiercely. "And there's nothing wrong, so there's nothing that needs to get better." But her eyes are burning and she holds Laurie's hand just a bit too tight, as if she doesn't dare let him go and find out who she is on her own.
Edith is also the one who listens, even when she doesn't believe. That night as she tucks Laurie into bed, Edith asks in a casual voice, "If we're the four directions, what are Mother and Father?"
"The earth," Laurie says. They are the foundation of his world. What else could they be?
"I can see that for Mother," Edith concedes, "but shouldn't Father be the sky?"
Laurie shakes his head. "No. The sky is for the sun, but I haven't met him yet. I will soon, though. Mary says if I follow the voice in my heart, all my dreams will come true, so I know we'll all find the sun."
Edith scowls at Mary's name, but her hands are gentle as she brushes Laurie's hair away from his face. "If anyone is like the sun, you are," she says. "You're enough sun for me. Sleep tight."
She slips out the door toward her own bedroom, the hem of her nightdress fluttering in the dim light of the reading lamp in Stephen's room down the hall. Downstairs, Mary and Mother are arguing, their voices rising and falling in familiar rhythm. Father is away again on business.
Laurie closes his eyes and dreams of golden light.
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Inspired by the 10/4/10![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15_minute_fic word #154: forever
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No prizes for guessing who the sun is. *wry*
In Narnia, Laurie continues his categorization habits and extends them to seasons as well. Starting from the Narnians' association of Edith with winter (because of her ties to Jadis), Laurie determines that Mary is summer, Stephen is autumn, and he himself is spring. Interestingly, while east and spring correspond well, as do west and autumn, north and summer and south and winter are normally opposite symbolic associations (at least in the northern hemisphere, which England is part of and which Narnia approximates). Laurie doesn't see any contradiction; he just thinks his sisters are complicated. :-D
I think once I get the Mary character study done, and maybe a snippet about the Christmas gifts, I will post these on ff.net as a sort of ficlet collection, to be added to randomly when the mood strikes me. But I want the Mary-POV piece done first.
I expect the differences will grow as Laurie gets older, but even so, it surprises me how little change switching Lucy's gender seems to make.
Anyway. Laurie Pevensie's world always makes sense, even if his siblings don't see what he does. (550 words)
[ETA: The AO3 crosspost is now up!]
---------------------------------------------
Anchor Points
---------------------------------------------
Laurie's world is simple and exact. Every thing is in its proper place. Each event happens at its proper time. All people play the roles they were born for.
He tries to explain this sometimes, but nobody seems to understand, though it's really very simple.
Mary is north, the compass. She protects Laurie and tells him how to listen to the little voice in his heart that knows the right thing to do. She is always alone, like the pole star, and everyone else circles around her, waiting for her to show them their paths.
Stephen is west, where the sun sinks into shadow. He is patient and calm, he smoothes over troubles until people stop fighting, and he knows all kinds of secrets. Sometimes he shares them with Laurie. He is the unknown lands beneath the ocean where light has never shined.
Edith is south, for sweetness and lies. Mary keeps Laurie safe but Edith keeps him happy: she plays games with him, makes him breakfast and lunch, remembers to put on his boots and coat in the winter to keep him warm. She is never alone, and she burns like a forge.
Laurie is east, where the sun rises. He tries to see the best in people, because there's always something good in everyone. He knows things will get better. He knows the light is coming.
"I'm no compass," Mary says brokenly. "I wish you'd stop trying to save me." But she holds Laurie in the darkness when he wakes from nightmares and promises that no troubles last forever. She sings him back to sleep.
"There's nothing mysterious about me," Stephen says easily. "I'm no help to anyone." But he teaches Laurie how to do subtraction without counting on his fingers, and shows him how to hold a pen without cramping his hand.
"I don't lie," Edith says fiercely. "And there's nothing wrong, so there's nothing that needs to get better." But her eyes are burning and she holds Laurie's hand just a bit too tight, as if she doesn't dare let him go and find out who she is on her own.
Edith is also the one who listens, even when she doesn't believe. That night as she tucks Laurie into bed, Edith asks in a casual voice, "If we're the four directions, what are Mother and Father?"
"The earth," Laurie says. They are the foundation of his world. What else could they be?
"I can see that for Mother," Edith concedes, "but shouldn't Father be the sky?"
Laurie shakes his head. "No. The sky is for the sun, but I haven't met him yet. I will soon, though. Mary says if I follow the voice in my heart, all my dreams will come true, so I know we'll all find the sun."
Edith scowls at Mary's name, but her hands are gentle as she brushes Laurie's hair away from his face. "If anyone is like the sun, you are," she says. "You're enough sun for me. Sleep tight."
She slips out the door toward her own bedroom, the hem of her nightdress fluttering in the dim light of the reading lamp in Stephen's room down the hall. Downstairs, Mary and Mother are arguing, their voices rising and falling in familiar rhythm. Father is away again on business.
Laurie closes his eyes and dreams of golden light.
---------------------------------------------
Inspired by the 10/4/10
15_minute_fic word #154: forever---------------------------------------------
No prizes for guessing who the sun is. *wry*
In Narnia, Laurie continues his categorization habits and extends them to seasons as well. Starting from the Narnians' association of Edith with winter (because of her ties to Jadis), Laurie determines that Mary is summer, Stephen is autumn, and he himself is spring. Interestingly, while east and spring correspond well, as do west and autumn, north and summer and south and winter are normally opposite symbolic associations (at least in the northern hemisphere, which England is part of and which Narnia approximates). Laurie doesn't see any contradiction; he just thinks his sisters are complicated. :-D
I think once I get the Mary character study done, and maybe a snippet about the Christmas gifts, I will post these on ff.net as a sort of ficlet collection, to be added to randomly when the mood strikes me. But I want the Mary-POV piece done first.
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Date: 2010-10-07 09:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-08 04:19 am (UTC)