#its about peter handing it over to see if caspian will hold it steady

[bloodybigwardrobe]

the how is quiet, a deserted place full of dust and low-burning fires, the cheer of hard-won battle left lingering on the threshold of this ancient place.

in front of a long-cracked stone, caspian falls to his knees before the high king of old. he breathes narnian wine out into the dim light, and stares up into amber-blue eyes that hold every shade of the narnian sky.

freshly calloused hands reach out to hold up his chin, to push back at his hair. the very life of narnia hums where kingly skin meets his, where fingertips brush over bruised jaw and cheek, over cut and bleeding lip. a soft smile with the very world in the corners of a cracking mouth lets the fires around them burn anew.

"you must learn to stand rather than kneel," peter says, amusement a melody that burns caspian's skin. "a king cannot stand on buckling legs at every turn."

"i will learn," caspian whispers, too afraid to break whatever spell has come to rest on them. "i swear."

sword-weary hands tug at his head, then brush down to his shoulders to pull him up. "then you ought to start tonight. the throne does not wait."

peter's voice is gentle, yet feels like teeth atop his ribcage. caspian wishes nothing more than to be pried open by the king-turned-boy and back again. he wants nothing more than for narnia to consume him, heart and all. but he is afraid.

"can't i start with the rising sun?"

peter laughs, turns them ever so slightly, and pushes caspian to sit where the legends saw aslan sacrifice his body to the creeping ice. caspian's body turns tense, awe a potent paralysis, when his tired, wine-drunk eyes watch a myth come true slowly get on his knees before him.

"what are you doing?"

peter's night-and-morning eyes crinkle at their edges. his teeth seem bloodied and sharp. "you must learn to be kneeled to."

caspian wonders if his heart will break through his chest like the fleeing bird it seems to be. "i have been kneeled to my whole youth."

peter shakes his head, reaches out a hand to settle on caspian's shaking knee. "it is not the same."

and caspian knows it can't be, because there is a weight pressing down on his shoulders that he's never felt before. suddenly, it feels as though an enormous beast is bearing down on every inch of him, snapping teeth at his neck and talons digging into his thighs. caspian gasps. in front of him, peter looks on with a smile.

"learn to stand," peter repeats, his voice a blade beneath caspian's chin, "weather the strain." his mouth is stretched wide with teeth that do not belong to the image of a boy, his presence a wall before caspian's trembling body. there is blood where his eyes ought to be. his stare remains unrelenting.

a beast in front, and a beast behind. caspian shakes. "it is too much."

peter laughs, then, still kneeling but looming above like an ancient tree, a cavern stretching far beyond what caspian can see. "stand," he commands again, his voice coming from all around. "stand, caspian, or fall."

there are fangs scraping down caspian's spine, something hard prying its way beneath armour and skin. he takes a breath. something growls.

when he stands, his legs tremble. he doesn't dare to take a step for fear of losing his balance on what suddenly seems like a sword's edge beneath his feet.

but he stands. he doesn't fall.

when peter laughs this time, it is a soft, comforting thing, like the setting sun over the laughing crowds outside. his eyes are once again blue-amber in the firelight, his teeth sharp but human where his lips pull back.

"there you are," he hums, pride and satisfaction louder than the words themselves. caspian laughs full of relief, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

he stands where he was kneeling, and he doesn't fall. he holds out shaking hands and twines them in golden hair. "thank you," he says, even as his shoulders burn under the weight.

peter—the very weave of old narnia, a king of times long past and yet breathing the same air as those that only know him from washed-out carvings and whispered songs—only smiles.

[narniagiftexchange]

                            THE AUTUMN NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

                   for: @valiantlylucy from @nonbinarycasmund.

the dancing lawns.

Lucy was thrilled to be back in Narnia. She absolutely wanted to take advantage of it. Thousand years gone by or no, she wanted to have a proper dance on the Lawns with the trees and the maenads and the fauns and everybody! It wasn’t hard to gather everyone together for such an event. Most Beasts had already emerged from their burrows and nests, and the fauns and maenads were already around and keen to dance again. Lucy gathered a few animal helpers and went into the woods to find everyone else.

Their hidey-holes were subtle enough not to be found by the Telmarines, who feared the woods and knew nothing about them, but Lucy had spent years among her subjects and knew all about how to spot a burrow. So she knocked at doors and called out hellos until she had collected things necessary for a dance: great big skin drums, skins of wine and barrels of mead, bread and grapes and cheese. Peter carried the barrels, trying his hardest to make it look easy in front of his baby sister, while Edmund carried the drums and Susan balanced platters and bowls of food in her arms. Before long they’d all reconvened at the Dancing Lawn.

The dirt was stone-solid now, packed down under the feet of a thousand years of dancers, and the clearing was surrounded with trees grown so tall Lucy hadn’t recognised the Lawns when they had first gathered there under King Caspian. Lucy pressed her hands to the gnarled bark of the first tree she saw. They had grown much bigger than any tree Lucy had ever seen, and she reveled in it. She tilted her head back to look at their branches and leaves far, far above.

Cornelius had warned Lucy that the dryads would be more cautious to emerge from their trees than the Beasts would be from their holes. But Lucy knew what to do. She gathered everyone in to the Lawns with her infectious grin. They lit a bonfire, welcoming all their guests into the warmth. Dwarves took their places at the drums, beating a steady rhythm. Some of the other Beasts and spirits took up tambourines and began to weave between the trees at the edges of the Lawn.

Lucy could feel the drumbeat through her feet, vibrating its way up into her ribcage, pulsing in time with her heart. She felt as though she was waking up from a long and boring dream; Spare ‘Oom was as far away as it was possible to be. She sat down to remove her shoes and wiggled her bare toes in the fresh grass.

Peter walked toward her from across the lawn. “I had my doubts, Lucy, but I think this was an excellent idea.“ He leaned down and offered her his hand.

"I knew it would be.” Lucy took Peter’s hand and pulled herself to her feet. “I just can’t wait for the dryads to come out!”

Peter looked up at the trees above them. “I hope they do.”

Lucy dusted pieces of grass from her knickerbockers before joining in the dance. She used to practice the steps in her bedroom in England, just to make sure she never forgot them, and it had paid off; but the dances had evolved somewhat in a thousand years, so she had to learn them anew. The maenads slung their arms across her shoulders and drew her into the dance.

Caspian, of course, had never seen such a thing. He had heard about the Dances, of course; he’d longed to be able to see one. But his imaginings paled in comparison with the real thing. Even just warming up, the clearing was full of laughter, shouts, and the ever-present beating of the drum. Some of the Beasts he’d met, of course, but he hadn’t seen the maenads. They were fiercely beautiful with their long black hair all woven through with grape vines, barefoot and wearing fawn skins. Caspian stood just at the edge of the crowd taking it all in.

Susan came up next to him, holding a goblet of wine. “It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?”

Caspian nodded, still watching the dance, before turning to Susan. “Is it all like this?”

“Narnia, do you mean?”

“Yes.”

Susan took a slow sip of her wine. “This is something special. Enjoy it while you can!“

"What do you mean?”

Susan cocked her head and watched the dancers, long dark hair falling over one shoulder. “It’s easy to get buried in paperwork and making laws, if you aren’t paying attention.”

“I will have to pay attention, then!”

"Good.” Susan smiled at Caspian. She opened her mouth as if to say more, but the swell of the crowd swirled toward them, and Lucy reached out for her sister. Susan grabbed her hand and joined the maelstrom.

Even with the pounding of drums and of feet thrumming through the ground and the jingling of the tambourines and the hum of talk, Caspian’s attention was drawn by something new. There came a rumbling that felt as if it came from somewhere down deep, so that the whole earth felt unsteady under Caspian’s feet. He grabbed a nearby tree. The tree swayed under his palms, no steadier than the earth, and Caspian tightened his hold.

Then the tree moved in quite an unexpected way. It went forward as though it was gliding across the ground, and Caspian realised too late that he was holding onto a living tree. He scrambled backward and landed on the grass. The ground rolled underneath him as though he was on the deck of a ship. All around him, the other trees began to move.

Or were they trees? As Caspian craned his neck up, up, up to look at the trees, they looked more like people. The one he had grabbed resembled a woman with long tangled hair flowing down her back and over her arms, if hair flowed like leaves and branches.

All around them Narnians stopped dancing to watch the trees. The drums and tambourines went silent. Lucy clasped both hands to her heart before waving them in the air.

“The trees have awoken!” she cried. Voices of all timbres (deep, rolling dwarf voices, nasal faun voices, shrill voices of birds and squirrels and mice) rang out, joining in the cry.

The arms of the trees, or the branches of the people (Caspian couldn’t tell which), dipped and swayed above them in a graceful motion. The branches sent great gusts of wind down on all the dancers as the trees began to move with more speed. Lucy threw her arms up again and twirled in a circle, almost wishing she still had her gymslip on so it would swirl around her legs. She caught Caspian looking her direction and waved at him. Susan waved over Lucy’s shoulder.

Caspian waded into the crowd just as it began moving again. The dwarves resumed their drumbeat, the Beasts their tambourine accompaniment, and everything was a swirl of sound and colour. Lucy and Susan each caught one of his hands and gently pulled him along.

“Left in front, right behind, left in front, kick!” Lucy called, and Caspian tried his best to keep up. He’d been trained in dancing for years, of course, but Telmarine dances were nothing like Old Narnian dances. Still, he got the hang of the dance after only a few stumbles.

A million textures brushed past their arms and legs: soft furs, rough furs, bare skin, hair, leather, homespun fabric. Lucy was still wearing the clothes she’d been wearing on the train platform, though she’d discarded her cardigan, gymslip, shoes, and stockings. Susan had tutted at her, of course, but in the absence of many other humans (let alone those from England), she eventually threw her stockings aside as well. It had been a hot day, and with so many people close together the day was slow to cool down, though the trees’ dance served as a sort of air conditioning.

Eventually Lucy, Susan, and Caspian worked their way out of the crowd and flopped onto the grass at the edge of the Lawns. Lucy laid all the way back on the grass, enjoying the breeze ruffling her hair.

Caspian looked around the clearing, taking in this wonderful slice of his kingdom. The crowd had lessened, leaving many Beasts relaxing just as he was. Leopards arched their backs, tails waving languorously in the air. Birds ruffled their feathers and rolled in the grass.

Peter came over to them on the grass, still breathing hard from dancing. He settled down next to Lucy and ruffled her hair.

“Thanks for organising a dance, Lu. I didn’t know how much I missed it until now.”

Lucy grinned and turned her face up to the last rays of the setting sun. “Couldn’t you just stay here forever?”

The older Pevensies laughed.

“It’ll be much too cold here in the winter,” Susan said sensibly.

Lucy frowned. “You knew what I meant!”

Caspian cut in before it could all come to tears, not that it probably would. “I could stay here forever, Lucy.”

Lucy grinned and bumped her shoulder against Caspian’s. “Thank you! Isn’t it lovely?”

“Yes, it is.” Caspian again looked out over the dwindling crowd as pairs and groups left the Dancing Lawns, chattering and laughing. “I would have you stay forever if I could!”

Peter and Susan exchanged glances.

“Why do you look like that?” Lucy asked.

“It’s nothing,” said Susan, and, “Don’t worry about it, Lu,” said Peter.

“I can tell when you’re keeping something from me, you know. I’m not a baby!”

Peter shrugged at Susan, who sighed.

“Aslan told us — Susan and I — that we won’t be coming back to Narnia.”

“No, it can’t be!” Lucy gasped.

Peter put one hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “It’s quite alright, Lu. It all made sense to us when he explained it — you’ll see.”

“Still!”

Caspian leaned into Lucy from the other side. “Let’s enjoy our time with them while we can.”

“Yes, let’s,” Susan said, smiling softly. “And I’m sure we’ll have many more adventures together back in England.”

“Promise?” Lucy asked.

“Promise,” they all said together, and pulled Lucy into a group hug.

“Good.”

[something-tofightfor]

Truth Be Told - Part 4

Pairing: King Caspian x Reader

Word Count: 6,579

Rating: R - TW: Major character death. 

Summary: Caspian deserves an explanation - as do the people. Are you truly OK with the decision that you’ve made? And... is Caspian? 

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading this. Thank you for your questions, comments and responses. Thank you for letting me do this with these characters. I know that this is a very dark way to take a Disney movie, but... it happens. We’re not done with Caspian and his Queen... but this is where we leave them for now. 

Tagging: Wanna be added? Let me know! Wanna be removed? Let me know.

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12​​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​​ @obscurilicious​​ @sweetybuzz25​​ @suchatinyinfinity​​ @lexxierave​​ @gollyderek​​ @poindexted​​ @ificouldhelpyouforget​​ @elanor-of-imladris​​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​​ @luminex3​​ @geeksareunique​​ @weallhaveadestiny​​ @mfackenthal​​ @thesumofmychoices​​ @yannii04​​ @beautiful-thinking​ @drinix​​ @agentlingerie​​  @blah-blah-fuckit-shit​​  @dreams-with-thoughts​  @wangmangagavroche​​ @traeumerinwitzhelden​​ @jigsawlover10​​ @malionnes​​​

Caspian:

@emyyjemyy​​​ @damalseer​​ @thisisparadisemylove​​ @chibiyanai​​ @life-is-a-melody​​ @shinebrightlikeafanbase​​ @halfwit-halfblood​​ @littlemermaidprobz​​

Uncategorized:

@banditthewriter​​​ @padfootagain​​​ @madamrogers​​​ @ethereal-heavcns​​​ @editboutique​​​ @marauderskeeper​​​ @ilkaeliseb​​​ @delicatelilyflower​​​ @king4thesirens​​​ @ymariejp​​​ @mr-robot-x​​​ @rageshots​​​ @introvertedlibrary​​​ @writing-for-a-chance​​​ @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals​​​ @likeorions​​​ @swiftyhowlz​​​ @dylanobrusso​​​ @malik-payne​​​ @lynne1993​​​ @ladyblablabla​​​ @dreamwritesimagines​​​ @audreychaz​​​ @tc-elliot @kind-wolf​​ @honeyydippaa​​​ @binbonsadoration​​​ @ms-delos​​​ @jeanettexkillian​​​ @avengerswhore @elioelioeli0​​​ @projectcampbell​​​ @giggleberts​​​ @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes​​

The air in the orchard was crisp and smelled the way that Caspian remembered it from his childhood, which calmed him and allowed him to focus entirely on you. Instead of walking across the grounds like you typically did when the two of you visited the space, Caspian chose to visit the stables with you first, having a young man saddle up Destrier before he helped you onto the horse’s back, then climbing up behind you. You left the stables quietly, Caspian’s arms around you as he held the reins, but by the time you reached the inner castle walls, he’d handed them to you, placing his hands on your hips and lowering his lips to your shoulder while curving his body around you from behind as you guided the horse forward and along the path. 

 Caspian breathed in the scent of you and tried to will you calm, since he could feel how rigid your body was as you rode toward the orchard. You leaned into him as you urged the horse into a trot, and Caspian finally felt you relaxing, in complete control of the situation. His mind was spinning - you’d handled the sentencing better than he’d expected, though the first few minutes following your exit from the great hall had been tense - but Caspian was determined to wait and see what you said when you reached the safety and solace of the clearing before he reacted. She needs me to be steady right now. 

 It wasn’t that he didn’t agree with the punishment you’d chosen for Sor - in fact, Caspian thought it was the perfect justice for the man. Imprisoning him wouldn’t do, exiling him wouldn’t do, and the fact that you’d picked up on Sor’s desire for a public spectacle before Caspian did had impressed him to no end. But it was the method that you’d decreed - you, yourself handing the man the goblet that he’d drink his death from that upset Caspian - and even that only upset him because he didn’t want you to feel guilty over it after it had been done. “Caspian?” Destrier was stopped, and with surprise, Caspian realized that you’d reached the center of the orchard, and the clearing. “Help me down?” You turned your head in, the bridge of your nose rubbing against his bearded cheekbone. “Please?” 

 He dismounted the horse, turning around to reach out for you, and with ease, Caspian helped lower you to the ground, hands lingering at your waist. “Are you…” You pulled away from him, gathering the reins in one hand before you leaned over, looping them around a low-hanging branch. “I…” 

 “Please let me speak, Caspian.” You turned to face him, arms crossed over your chest. “I know…” You took a deep breath. “This isn’t a typical solution, I know that.” You began pacing, keeping your distance, and Caspian reached over, running his hand over the horse’s neck, fingers disappearing beneath his mane. Just listen. “I…” You reached up with one hand, scrubbing it over your face in a way that Caspin hadn’t seen since before you’d started courting. It made him smile - to see you, the woman he loved, the woman he’d fallen in love with coming through in your actions, and it settled him slightly. “I grew up reading the stories, Caspian, of… of the Pevensies. Edmund the Just. Lucy the Valiant. Peter the Magnificent. Susan… Queen Susan, the Gentle.” You turned to face him, eyes bright. “I knew of you, of Caspian the Seafarer, Emperor of the Lone Islands.” You spread your hands out, a pained expression on your face. “They were all just stories, Caspian, but then… they weren’t.” 

 “No, they’re real.” He stepped forward, his hand falling away from the horse and to his side. “I’m real, the Peven-”

 “Then I came here, Caspian, and met you and… got to know you and got to know them through you, and got to…” You shook your head. “And then you asked me to marry you, Caspian, meaning that… someday, I’d be remembered via a title, too.” You closed your eyes. “And not just as a Queen, but… as something else.” He swallowed, unsure of what you were going to say. “How will they remember me, Caspian?” You shook your head, a single tear leaking from beneath your closed lids. “Simply as your queen? Or as someone that hesitates? Someone that didn’t d -”

 “They’ll remember you, my Queen, as someone that took on the role with grace and -”

 “No, Caspian.” You stepped closer to him again, shrugging your shoulders. “They won’t remember me a certain way just because I want them to or we tell them to, they’ll remember me for what I’ve done.” You looked down. “I want them to remember me as someone who cared for them and protected them and did what was right for them.” You looked back up at him. “Every decision I make is heightened, everything I do is… they watch me, Caspian, to see what I do, and see how I…” They do, that’s part of being royal. But he understood - he’d had to learn quickly, barely more than a boy when he’d been crowned, the weight of the kingdom suddenly thrust upon his shoulders. He’d had the Pevensies to help him for a short time, but once they’d gone back to England? He’d been alone, conscious of everything, learning from his mistakes as he’d made them. “I have to get this right, to show them that I can make the difficult choices that they need me to.” 

 “You…” Caspian, pressed his lips into a thin line, thinking. “Is this about the trial, or is this about -”

 “It’s about everything, Caspian, but this trial is an example.” You pressed your hands against your stomach, shaking your head. “All I’ve been thinking about since the night of the Festival is Sor’s punishment, all I’ve been worrying about is what would have happened if he’d hurt someone else - if one of those children had taken the cup, if… if you’d touched my lips.” You smiled. “I haven’t been thinking of myself, Caspian, not selfishly at least. And when I realized that? When I figured out that even though I doubt myself sometimes, and think that I don’t deserve this - that I actually do deserve it, because I know that in the end, it’s not about me? That I’m here with you because you want me to be, and because the people want me to be?” You gestured around you, pointing in the direction of the palace. “I knew that I could do what was necessary.” 

 “So… you’re telling me…” Caspian took another step toward you, speaking slowly. “That it took this for you to realize th-”

 “Yes.” You laughed, tilting your head back. “They were worried about me, when my own father wasn’t.. and they were angry with Sor because of what he did, and the Lords were… and Danmair and Rantawn…You…” You rubbed your face again. “I can’t let these people down, Caspian. I can’t let you down.”

 “You never have, and you never will. And…” He finally took your hands in his, squeezing. “You don’t need to directly take part in a man’s death to prove that.” Caspian shook his head. “You stabbed him, yes, but that was in the moment, a reaction, a… a life or death response.” You looked up at him, eyes locked on his. “This is handing a man his death, this is… you’ll have to live with…” Caspian trailed off, thinking back to the first man he’d killed - someone on a battlefield by the point of Rhindon, the look in the man’s eyes staying with him long after the fight had ended. “It’s not easy.” 

 “It shouldn’t be.” You stepped toward Caspian, hands sliding up to his forearms. “None of this should be easy, Caspian… except…” You lowered your forehead, resting it against the center of his chest. “Except being with you. That’s easy. That’s … what I’m fighting for.” He pulled his arms back, your hands moving to his waist and his wrapping around your shoulders to hold you. “I know what I agreed to, and I know what I have to do.” You spoke against his chest, your words clear. “He doesn’t get to die publicly, Caspian. He doesn’t get to get his way.” No, he doesn’t. “You married me, Caspian, to … be a Queen, not to be an accessory.” You pulled back, looking up at him. “You told me that you trusted me to make the right call when you didn’t think you could, and… yes, it’s an emotional decision, but it’s not just about me.” He understood - wholly - and yet you felt the need to keep speaking, to keep defending yourself. It’s because you’re staying quiet, you fool. Say something. 

 “The thing about being in a position like ours,” Caspian whispered, tilting his head down. “Is that so few people know what it’s like to have to make these decisions.” He shook his head, using a hand to touch your face, palm resting on your cheek. “They know what they think they would do, but you can’t, not really - not until you’re standing there and have to make the choice. You did that. You did that without pause, staring those men in the eye while you told them what would happen to them, while you told Sor that you were not giving him the easy way out.” 

 “I want him to suffer, Caspian.” Your words a whisper, he could hear the shame in them. “I want him to have that fear that we did, those hours of waiting, the…” You shuddered. “The knowledge that help won’t be coming, and by Aslan, it feels wrong to feel like that.” It does. Caspian kissed you, his lips sealing over yours and silencing you, and he felt your fingers tighten against his hips in response. “Caspian…” 

 “People want things they don’t like to admit. Guilt is a part of life.” Caspian closed his eyes, thinking. Be honest with her. “The sentence you gave fits the crime. He tried to kill you. He tried to publicly murder the Queen - his only problem is that he failed, whereas you… we did not. He knew the risk of getting caught.” Caspian stroked your hair, rocking back and forth with you in the sunlight, the trees whispering around you. “You were brave in front of them. You were strong in front of them.” Caspian pushed you away, shaking his head as he looked down at you. “You may not believe this, but you were merciful - to those three men and to Sor.” 

 “How is sentencing a man to -”

 “Sor grew up here, in the palace, and still has friends here - or at least people that considered him a friend. They’d likely not admit it now, but… seeing people you were once close to die is not simple. You’re merciful by sparing them, if nothing else. But it’s more than that. He’s so blinded by what he believes about you - so consumed by the need to be right that he isn’t thinking clearly. I know our people. Watching a public hanging, or a beheading, or any other number of potential sentences be carried out will not sway their opinion in the way that he hopes, but it will linger with them.” Caspian took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, giving you a small smile. She’s calmed down. That’s good. “That, my Queen, is true mercy.” 

 “Is it, Caspian?” You looked at him, eyes filled with worry, and he nodded.

 “Yes.” He dropped his hand from your face to your chest, two fingers tapping gently over your heart. “Tell me what you feel right now.” You opened your mouth, but Caspian continued. “Not what you think.” You were quiet, brow furrowed as you considered his question. 

 “I… I feel… scared, Caspian. I feel… sad, that it came to this.” He nodded, allowing you to continue. “I feel… relieved that it’s been decided, and… you didn’t stop me.” You met his gaze, and he could see the conflicting emotions in your eyes, the way that you were struggling to reconcile your words with your thoughts. “I know you wanted to.” 

 “I did.” He nodded. “But I told you that I wouldn’t, because I trust you to do what’s right.” He paused, wanting to be sure that he was clear with what he said next. “But this, right here? You’re struggling with your decision, and that means it was the correct one. It wasn’t easy for you, it wasn’t something that isn’t impacting you. If you… if it was just a decision for you, we wouldn’t be standing here right now.” You nodded. “I have absolute trust in you, my Queen.” He smiled, blinking twice. “And so do the Lords.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to your cheek. “And so will the people once they’ve learned what you chose.” He straightened up, tone going serious. “And that, you will have nothing to do with.” You widened your eyes, but Caspian shook his head. “No. I’ll make the announcement. You don’t need to relive your decision over and over like it’s a punishment.” He sighed. “I have experience with this, and even though I’d like you to be there with me when I tell our people, you won’t have to speak.” Caspian took both of your hands in his, squeezing them. “Let me take some of this burden back from you. Please.” You considered his words carefully and finally nodded, squeezing back. 

 “Thank you, Caspian.” You lowered your head and he watched as you shifted on your feet. “Does it… will it get easier as time passes? To…” He said your name, watching as you raised your eyes back to meet his. 

 “I hope that this is the only time you ever have to make a decision like this. I hope that this is… the most difficult thing we face together. But if it’s not? It doesn’t get easier, we just gain experience.” That’s not even the whole truth, but it’s close enough. “And we’ll have each other to fall back on.” 

 --- 

 Caspian called for a crowd to gather the following afternoon, and as the sun began to set and palace staff prepared the dining hall for the feast, you stood next to him on the balcony overlooking the square. You both wore your crowns again, as it was an official statement, and as his eyes wandered over the people gathered, he found himself worried about what the crowd would think. They’re expecting an execution, they’re expecting… He glanced over at you, watching as you looked over your people as well, and then Caspian caught your eye, reaching out with one hand to take yours. As your fingers slipped against his, he nodded at you and smiled, taking a breath. Stepping forward, Caspian placed your joined hands on the stone railing and raised his free hand. 

 The crowd quieted quickly, faces turning upward to watch you, and Caspian gave them a few moments to settle before he spoke. “Narnians.” Quickly. “As you know, earlier this week, a trial was held to determine the guilt of the men involved in the incident that occurred at the Harvest Festival.” Caspian paused, feeling your grip on his hand tighten. “An attempt on the Queen’s life is a serious crime, and as such, the proceedings were taken very seriously.” He watched as many people nodded, the looks on their faces angry. “I recused myself from the jury, as I couldn’t promise that I would make a fair decision when it came to the men that put your Queen - my wife in danger, and so… it was up to the Narnian Lords to decide the best course of action.” The crowd members murmuring quietly to each other didn’t surprise Caspian, but he still paused, waiting. “They found all four men guilty, which is no surprise, and when they presented us with the options for punishment, I deferred to your Queen to make the final call.” The crowd reacted to that; Caspian heard a few gasps and even saw some people nodding at the admission, but he didn’t see anger or outrage. Good. Caspian looked over at you and saw that your eyes were locked on the crowd, surprise apparent in them. He said your name quietly and you slowly turned your face toward him. You were trying to stay calm, but Caspian could see how anxious you were. “I love you.” Meant only for you to hear, the reassurance seemed to help as you lowered your head slightly, a smile on your lips. He turned his head back to the crowd, taking a deep breath. “Your Queen agreed with the Lords that the three accomplices were guilty, but that they did not deserve to have their lives ended.” He stopped only for a few seconds. “Her decision was to sentence them to serving on a ship’s crew for the rest of their lives - never allowing them to come back to Narnia, never allowing them to marry or have families.” He smiled at the crowd. “She saw their value and potential despite their past actions, and acted appropriately. They will be leaving tomorrow morning on one of the ships headed for the Lone Islands.” 

 Caspian gave the crowd a few moments to react and then continued. “Sor’s verdict was a little more complicated.” He stepped closer to you, closing the distance between your bodies in a show of support. She doesn’t need it, but I do. “Sor’s replacement on my council last year was due to more than a difference of opinion, as was his initial removal from the palace.” Caspian swallowed, mind racing as he debated over how much to tell his people. “I gave him the same option the Queen gave those men - to live away from here, to go on with his life, to let me make the decisions that, as King, I have earned the right to make.” He shook his head. “He didn’t do that, and the result is the situation that occurred at the Festival.” Caspian closed his eyes. “Sor’s recommended sentence was that he be executed.” There was a small uproar at that, people’s shouts carrying to his ears, but Caspian knew that if he let the people react without hearing the remainder of what he had to say, things would get out of control quickly. “Please.” He held up his hand, and the crowd quieted, all of their attention on the two of you. “Your Queen agreed with this.” 

 Still silent, the crowd’s attention shifted from Caspian to you, and though his heart was pounding, he gave them time. “Keep going, Caspian.” You whispered the words, shaking your head. “They need to -”

 “However.” The single word drew them back to him, and Caspian let out a breath. “She did not agree with the recommended method, and chose one that more adequately fits the crime.” He glanced back at Danmair, who gave him a short nod and then Caspian gripped the railing with his free hand. “Sor’s execution will not be public. It will be handled within the walls of Cair Paravel, with appropriate witnesses.” The crowd began growing louder, and Caspian heard a few men yelling for quiet, others inching forward to better hear. “He will be … Sor will be served the same poison he attempted to use on the Queen.” Caspian waited, counting to three. “He will not be given medical attention.” The crowd grew louder, and though he tried not to focus on any one person, he heard a few scattered cheers and some applause. “The Queen… the Queen - by her own request - will be the one to hand Sor this cup, and -”

 “And I will remain in the dungeons for as long as it takes for the poison to do its work.” Your voice was strong, and though it caught him by surprise, Caspian went silent at the sound - and so did the crowd. “Giving a sentence like this is not enough - as your Queen, I have to see it through.” You took a deep breath. “For Narnia.” You stepped back, not letting go of Caspian’s hand, and just as he was about to follow you, he widened his eyes. Are they… 

 The crowd was chanting - but they weren’t repeating your last words. They were saying your name - quietly at first and then louder, and Caspian couldn’t hide his smile as he tugged on your hand, drawing you back to his side. Once there, he let go of your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist and lowering his face to speak into your ear. “You made the right call, listen to them.” He kissed you on the temple, lips lingering against your warm skin. “For Narnia.” 

--- 

 The feast had been a success, and though Caspian had tried to keep conversation light with the Lords, many of them had spoken to you about the trial and the way that you were handling yourself - and the sentence you’d chosen for Sor and the other men. It wasn’t that Caspian didn’t want you to interact with the Lords; the opposite was actually true. He knew that the more time you spent with them, the more at home you’d feel in the role you’d married into, but Caspian was concerned with you reliving the moment you’d sentenced a man to death over and over. 

 But you’d conversed with the men without issue, smiling and thanking them, explaining your thoughts - even asking the Lords about their wives as you and Caspian moved between them, making your rounds. You were the picture of royalty, and Caspian was grateful, but he was also prepared to see your demeanor change as soon as the meal was over, much like it had after the verdicts had been read. The two of you took your leave earlier than the other men, you and Caspian heading out of the dining room and walking through the halls arm in arm. Neither of you spoke, but Caspian kept an eye on you, your profile visible in the moonlight streaming in through the large windows. 

 You took the long way back to your quarters, and as you climbed the steps, you pulled your arm out of Caspian’s, turning to face him as you reached the landing. “Caspian.” You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side. “What are you waiting for?” You eyed him, drawing your lower lip back into your mouth. “I’m not going to break down, Caspian. I’m… doing ok.” You nodded at him and he stepped forward, one of his hands going to the side of your face. 

 “You’d tell me if you weren’t?” You nodded. “I just want…”

 “I’ll be fine, Caspian. This is hard, but it’s necessary. Lord Ramh was telling me that…” You sighed, laughing quietly. “He was telling me that his wife couldn’t even make a decision about what to wear some days, and that he admired my resolve.” You leaned your cheek into his palm, closing your eyes. “Do you admire my resolve, too? Do you think it’s commenda-”

 “I admire everything about you.” He leaned in, kissing you on the mouth. “And of course I’m watching you to make sure that you don’t need anything, that you’re… not rethinking your decision.” No one would look the other way if you were, Danmair would step in, or I would, or…

 “I’m handing him that cup, Caspian.” You were staring at him. “I’m going to watch him raise it to his lips and I’m going to watch him swallow every last drop of what’s in it.” You set your shoulders. “I’ll likely regret that as soon as it’s happening, but…” He watched as you shifted on your feet, shaking your head. “But I have to do it, Caspian. For myself, and for you.” You do, but… “But that’s tomorrow.” You took a deep breath, gesturing to the windows. “I don’t have to think about that right now.” Turning away from him, you continued to walk toward your bedroom door, steps quiet over the floor. “Caspian?” You turned your head, looking at him over your shoulder and raising an eyebrow. “Will you help me undress for bed?” Damn right I will. 

--- 

 “I’m not wearing that.” You were shaking your head back and forth, one hand nervously gripping the back of your neck as you stood near the foot of your bed. “I’m not… it looks…” For once, please don’t fight this. 

 “Your majesty, this is the only way we can safely let you get close enough to hand him…” Rantawn sighed, holding the thin, golden mask up. “It will cover your mouth and nose, and that way if he…”

 “No.” You shook your head. “That will make me seem af-”

 “You’ll wear it.” Caspian stepped forward, uncrossing his arms and shaking his head. “You’ll wear it or someone else will carry out this sentence.” He stopped in front of you, leaving space between your bodies. “Throughout all of this, the only thing I have worried about is your safety, and I will not compromise on that. Not today. Not ever.” You stared up at him, eyes wide. He rarely ordered you to do anything - and typically, when he did, it was done with a glint in his eye, a slightly teasing tone to his voice. Not this time. “You are the Queen of Narnia, and you need to take precautions, especially when it would be so simple for him to throw the drink back into your face.” He let out a breath. “You were lucky the last time, and we can’t count on the same being true the next.” 

 You were silent as you stared up at him, defiance in your eyes. Please don’t fight me on this. Everyone in the room was silent; Rantawn’s shoulders straight and his mouth set, Caspian regarding you uncertainly and you - your nose wrinkled, the hand still on your neck. He whispered your name, shaking his head and mouthing the word “please” and you finally lowered your head, hand dropping to your side. “Fine.” Caspian breathed out a sigh of relief and then gathered you into his arms, holding you tightly. “But I’m not putting it on until we reach the dungeons.” Fine by me. 

 The three of you left the room, Rantawn walking next to Caspian and filling him in on the morning’s news. The three men had sailed off at dawn, all of them on the same ship and under the supervision of Rantawn’s youngest brother, who was sure to keep them in line. Most of the Lords had left the palace, setting off for home as the sun rose, and the remaining two were only staying to finish up business in the town, planning to head out as soon as it was completed. Only one more thing to take care of, and then we can get back to… life. He took your hand in his as you began to descend the stairs leading to the dungeons, the torches on the walls already lit to guide you, and even though he heard your breathing change slightly, there was no hesitation in your steps. 

 By the time you reached the hall at the bottom of the stairs where a few men were gathered, the three of you had fallen silent and your shoulder was pressed against Caspian’s, hand held tightly in his.”Your Majesties.” The doctor bowed to you, sighing. “I’ve prepared the drink.” He pointed to a small table that was a few feet away - only a single goblet atop it. “I’ve also brought gloves for you to wear, ma’am, to protect your skin.” You’d chosen a long sleeved dress that morning, but Caspian watched as you nodded, not even bothering to argue with the man that had saved your life. “Did Lord Rantawn bring you the -” 

 “He did.” You stepped forward, reaching for the gloves the man held out and slipping them onto your hands, the pearl of your ring causing a faint bulge beneath the leather material. “Thank you.” Turning, you held a hand out and Rantawn handed you the mask, which you turned over in your gloved hands before slipping it on, the entire top half of your face exposed and the bottom concealed by the thin, golden surface. “I look like a fool.” 

 “No, Your Majesty.” Danmair stepped forward, shaking his head. “You look like someone taking this seriously.” You closed your eyes, staying silent. He understood - you didn’t want to look weak in front of Sor, but at the same time, you needed to realize that protecting yourself in a simple way wasn’t weak at all. Caspian knew that you knew that, but also knew that reminding you wouldn’t do much good - you were too focused. 

 It had been decided that the group of people that would serve as witnesses was to be small. You, Caspian, Danmair and Rantawn, Balvos - the only two outside of that group were a scribe, who had been tasked with documenting the death for science as well as the Cair Paravel and Narnian records, and the Doctor, who would serve as the source of all related information as well as to pronounce Sor’s death officially. It was as far from a public execution as Caspian could imagine, and while he was still anxious, he knew that Sor would likely not try anything with so many trained men surrounding him, which made the entire thing much safer. 

 Mask and gloves in place, you stepped away from Caspian and over to the table, picking up the goblet and glancing down into it. “This is a lot, I -”

 “He only needs to drink half of it.” The doctor held a hand out. “But I didn’t want there to be too little, so…” Good. You nodded, and turned toward the hallway, taking small steps toward Sor’s cell. When your group reached it, you nodded once to Balvos, who was stationed outside of the door. Caspian peered around the man and into the shadowy space, surprised to see that Sor was sitting on the edge of his cot, hands clasped together and his head down. Is he praying? 

 “Balvos.” Your voice was strong and even, and Caspian nodded to Danmair and Rantawn, watching as the men stepped back. The doctor took his place in a chair that had been set up across the aisle from Sor’s cell in one of the empty ones, while the scribe, quill in hand, took notes from a few feet away. “Please let Sor out of the cell.” You let out a breath. “I’m not doing this through bars.” Surprised, Balvos’ gaze flicked to Caspian, who nodded briefly. As the metal clanged with the insertion of the key into the slot, you spoke again. “Step back, my King.” You turned to look at him. “You don’t have a mask on.” He did as you asked, but only backed up a few steps, wanting to be close just in case he was needed. Danmair had his hand on the hilt of his sword and Rantawn was ready, too, each of them only needing the slightest indication of trouble. “Take his shackles off, Balvos.” 

 “No, that’s not -” Caspian spoke but Sor cut him off, the man stepping into the light next to the younger guard. 

 “It’s alright.” He swallowed, and Caspian met his gaze, words dying on his lips. “It’s not like I can go anywhere. Any one of you would be able to overpower me before I took two steps.” He raised his hands, holding them out. “This is the end. I’ll behave.” Caspian considered the man’s words before giving a single nod, Balvos reaching for the keys with one hand, the other still firmly on Sor’s upper arm. Once the chains had fallen to the ground, Sor rubbed at his wrists for a few moments, eyes locked on them. “Before this… happens, may I say something?” Haven’t you already said enough? But this was your time, your rules, and Caspian didn’t respond. 

 You inclined your head at Sor, a curious look in your eyes. Though he couldn’t see the set of your mouth, Caspian could picture it, and he felt his chest grow tight as all of you waited. “Yes, you may.” 

 “I underestimated you.” Sor stared at you, wetting his lower lip with his tongue. “I underestimated the amount of love that Caspian feels for you, and the opinion that the people of Narnia have of you.” He shook his head. “But most of all, I underestimated your strength.” What? In shock, Caspian shifted forward slightly. “I never imagined that you’d … choose this, or that you’d be here to carry it out.” He laughed, using one hand to rub at his face. “But here you are. And here I am.” He pointed at you. “You hold my life in your hands, Queen. Are you willing to end it? Are you… prepared to fulfil your obligation to this country and prove that you’re not just talk?” Caspian’s jaw dropped at Sor’s words. Unbelievable. 

 Straightening your shoulders, you stepped forward, holding the goblet in both hands in front of your abdomen. You stepped closer to Sor than you had been since the festival, stopping only when he was within reach. “I am.” You raised the goblet and Caspian was relieved to see that your hands weren’t shaking at all. “Are you willing to take your punishment?” It was silent, none of the others in the room talking, and although he could tell that the man was reluctant, Balvos let Sor’s arm go, giving him the ability to reach forward. “Here.” There was a long pause, Sor unmoving, and finally, Caspian spoke. 

 “Take the goblet.” Sor’s eyes moved away from the cup in your hands and to Caspian, and for the first time there was fear in them. “Sor.” He raised an eyebrow. “Now is not the time for hesitation.” Eyes flicking back to you and your hands, Sor finally reached out to you. The goblet passed hands slowly, your gloved fingers slipping away, but you didn’t step back, even after your hands lowered to your sides. “Drink.” It wasn’t that he was unprepared to take his punishment, Caspian realized, it was that Sor was still unwilling to listen to you - defiant to the end. “Don’t draw this out.” 

 The man looked down at the cup in his hands, and Caspian watched as he took in a shuddering breath before tilting his head back, eyes going to the ceiling. “I’m sorry, Caspian.” Now isn’t the time for apologies. Shaking his head, Caspian went to speak but Sor beat him to it, anger in his voice. “I’m sorry that I didn’t succeed.” Almost before he was done speaking, Sor had raised the goblet to his lips, tilting it up as he drank from it. You stepped back quickly, putting more space between you and the man, and without thinking, Caspian stepped forward and toward you, eyes never leaving his former advisor. Sor managed a few long swallows before he coughed, the cup falling from his hands and clattering across the stone floor, the remaining liquid spilling out. “Remember this.” He coughed again, using the back of one hand to wipe across his mouth as he stared at you. “Remember what you did to me.” 

 Balvos shoved the man back into the cell, swinging the door shut and locking it before turning to face everyone else, head shaking back and forth. Your eyes were on the cup on the ground, and though you moved to pick it up, Caspian caught your arm. “No, leave it.” Sor was still coughing from the cell’s interior, and Caspian watched as he dropped onto the cot again, spitting onto the floor. “Don’t touch it.” 

 “Your Majesties.” The doctor spoke up, and both of you lifted your heads to look at him, one of Caspian’s arms winding around your waist. “It may take hours for him to succumb to the effects, there’s no reason for you to stay.” Yes, we should go. 

 “No, we need to…” The doctor shook his head, causing you to trail off. “What?”

 “There’s no need for you to stand here and watch.  If you go into another hall, I can call you back in to confirm, but… ma’am, there’s… this isn’t something anyone needs to see.” He’s sparing her.

 “Alright.” You nodded, looking over at Caspian, teeth digging into your lower lip. “We’ll go, but not far.” 

--- 

 A few hours later, you and Caspian - along with Danmair and Rantawn had played countless hands of cards in an empty cell in the adjacent wing. The doctor had come in periodically to update you on Sor’s condition, but it had been some time since you’d heard anything. Symptoms had begun after only an hour - and they’d intensified quickly; all four of you had heard the man’s moaning along with a few screams of pain, and at those, even Caspian had winced. None of you talked about what you were hearing, or what you imagined was happening just a few yards away, but Caspian knew you were all thinking about the man’s demise, wondering when it would end. He desperately wanted to return to the main level of the palace, to the sunshine - away from the dungeons, but there was no way you’d leave, and he respected your dedication to your duty. “I have news.” At the sound of the doctor’s voice, each of you looked up, attention returning to the doorway. “Sor has fallen asleep, and his breathing is becoming more labored.” You stood first, wiping your hands on the front of your dress. “He’s unresponsive, and before… before he slept, his speech was … disjointed.” The doctor stroked his chin. “I don’t believe it will be much longer, Your Majesties.” 

 He followed you out of the cell, and Danmair and Rantawn followed him, the five of you heading back to the main hallway, where the other two men were standing in the aisle, eyes on Sor’s cell. The man was lying on his back on the cot, and Caspian saw that his skin was covered with a sheen of sweat, fingers twitching and the man’s eyes jerking behind closed lids. It’s almost over. No one spoke, all of you focused on Sor, and Caspian didn’t know how long you stood there for, but he did notice that you leaned against him, fingers twining together. “It’s almost over, Caspian.” You spoke quietly, watching as the time between Sor’s breaths lengthened. “He’s… he’s no danger to us or to anyone else. Not anymore.” 

 Unsure of what to say, Caspian simply lifted your hand - no longer encased in a glove - and kissed your knuckles, eyes still on the man in front of him. A few minutes later, Sor’s chest rose in a shallow, wheezing breath and then fell - and then did nothing. Waiting, Caspian stared at the man, counting the seconds in his head, and when, after a full minute, Sor’s chest didn’t rise again, he turned to you, body flooding with relief. “Not anymore.” 

---

[ceruleanmusings]

Brothers in Arms - Part Two

Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia Requested by: anon Rating: T Genre: Angst Words: 2541 Characters: Peter Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie, Caspian X Summary - Finding himself in over his head, Peter attempts to protect his kingdom no matter the cost.

Previous Part | Final Part | Masterlist

----

Peter thrashed against the sea of hands that fought to hold him down. Rocks and twigs scraped at his back. The jeers and shouts continued to assault him, hitting at him from all sides. Something banged against his head — a fist for a foot, he wasn’t sure. Stars exploded in his vision and his head swam but still he fought. He had to keep fighting.

Wrenching his arm out of the heavy grasp pulling him back, he scrambled around for his sword. His arm flopped down towards his side, searching. A heavy weight began to press down on his legs. He kicked and struck out at any and everything that dare got close to him. His fingers brushed against something cool. Sparks shot at his fingertips and a smile tweaked at the corner of his mouth.

His fingers barely wrapped around the handle of his sword when his fingers were pried backwards. His grunts and groans of pain were swallowed up by the material of the sack over his head — burlap, how original. His hot, shallow breaths smacked him in the face. Beads of sweat rolled down his cheek. He just needed some air. Just a little bit of air...

“Hurry. Grab him! Get him on the cart before his legion arrive,” a raspy voice growled in his ear.

Peter gritted his teeth. If he was going anywhere, it was going to be after a good fight.

Curling his fingers around his sword handle once more, Peter gathered his strength and swung his arm. A painful grunt and a brief tug let him know that Rhindon caught on something. Or someone. Just what he needed.

He reached up, tugging the sack off his head. His eyes blinked rapidly with the onslaught of sunlight, trying to adjust to the brightness. Rolling onto his stomach, he jumped onto his feet. The back of his head throbbed, adrenaline pumped through him but he tightened his grip on his sword and swung it in a mighty arc.

Now he saw them; the rogues with battered faces, scarred skin, wide teeth baring smiles. Save for one. His gloved hand pressed against his cheek and, when he removed it, Peter saw the slice across his cheek, the blood seeping out and sliding down the cure of his jaw.

Peter’s nostrils flared. One quick sweep allowed him to take in their number—nine of them—their size—shorter but packed with muscle—and their armor—none.

Gulping, he clenched his jaw. There weren’t many that were so brazen to go through Narnian lands without some sort of armor to protect themselves. Those that didn’t, he knew, didn’t have much to worry about losing.

Right then. Steeling his nerves, he eyed them.

“You are not welcome in our lands! Leave at once!” He ordered, taking on his High King voice—a deeper, authoritative tone used seldomly. Not even when he spoke to his own kingdom did he resort to such measures.

The scratched rogue laughed, a raspy wheezy laugh. “No, I don’t think so,” he replied. “’Cause, y’see, you can’t tell me what to do.”

“You’re not welcome here!”

The gang of rogues burst into laughter. Peter’s nostrils flared and, all at once, he was taken back to the early days of their Golden Age reign. When foes and visitors alike snickered behind their palms or second guessed his decisions and choices simply because of his age. He grew into the ruling position, not without push-back, but he’d paid his dues hadn’t he?

The lion deep within him roared and pawed at the ground, poised and ready to strike. Lifting his chin, Peter held the gaze of the scratched rogue. The scratched rogue’s laughter stopped and those around him petered out.

“Leave,” Peter snarled.

“I don’t think so,” the scratched rogue replied. He dragged his thumb across the scrape on his cheek, scraping the blood away. He barely glanced at it as he flicked the blood away; it dotted leaves of the underbrush by his feet. “Y’see, you all have it good around here. I figured it was my duty to, ah, lighten the load. Figure you wouldn’t miss some gems and trinkets here and there.”

“You’re killing innocent people!”

The scratched rogue shrugged. “They shouldn’t have resisted.”

The loud roar of a lion rushed in his ears and lit a fire within Peter. He briefly took a step backwards. Everyone seemed to move at once. Shouts and battle cries surrounded him as he turned and ran. Wind tugged at his clothes as he burst through the paths ahead of him. The rogues stayed close on his heels. They were fast, but he had the advantage of knowing the lands.

He ducked aside, charging off the path, ducking and dodging between large rocks that reached upwards to the canopy of leaves above. Something whizzed past his head, a hum buzzing in his ear before the bark on a tree nearest him exploded. He ducked, bits of bark reigning down on his head and shoulders.

He squeezed between a rock, glancing back only to jerk away when the tip of a sword came inches from his nose. He gulped and kept going, eyes darting around for an exit or even a half decent hiding place. There!

As if granting his wishes, he spotted it: a toppled over tree. The base, so large, lifting out of the ground it resembled a bare treetop of its own. Roots pointed in every which way, clumps of dirt hanging on. Peter headed for it, rushing through the tall grass. He scrambled over it and jumped down behind the shield of roots.

His chest heaved and he silently cursed himself for walking off without cover. But it was Narnia, he knew his lands, he knew he was safe. Or at least, he was. Maybe he rested too far on his laurels, believing all the good they were doing for their country and how they protected it. Either way, he needed to get a message back to his family. And fast.

Peter glanced around, searching the trees until he spotted one that appeared to be bathing in a golden glow, all the spotlights of sunlight directed on it. He let out a long breath, briefly closed his eyes while saying a prayer to Aslan, and jumped out of his hiding place.

“There he is! Men, charge!”

Peter raced for the tree, dodging the weapons being thrown around him. He jumped over upturned roots and zig-zagged around trees until he finally reached it. In a swirl of leaves, a figure wrapped up in pearl pink petals appeared before him, floating along.

“My king,” the dryad spirit said, approaching.

“Take news back to the castle. I need the others. And....and please hurry,” Peter said.

“Of course, My King,” the spirit said before disappearing to whence it came.

Standing up straight, Peter turned and faced the rogues that rushed in at him, twirling rope-like weapons over their heads and readying their swords. He brushed the sleeve of his shirt across his mouth and pressed his lips into a line.

He raised his sword, catching a glimpse of his own face reflecting in the blade for a mere second. He closed his eyes, thinking to his sisters, Susan and Lucy, who were left behind at the castle, steadied his nerves, opened his eyes, and charged forward.

-------

Caspian rushed across the castle grounds, his booted footfalls muffled by the lush greens underneath. Wind tugged at his clothes, dragging him, but still he ran. He hadn’t stopped running since he heard the noise. Heard the ambush.

He gritted his teeth. If only he’d followed after Peter sooner, if only he hadn’t taken so much time to sort things out with Edmund before going after the High King, this wouldn’t have happened. If not for the dryad spirit coming to him with a message from Peter himself, he wouldn’t have been there in time. And it was tough, choosing to turn and run for help rather than go into the fight on his own to help. But then, if the dryad spirit hadn’t awoken, who would have known they were there in the first place? Last they heard the rogues were only by the borders, waiting. No one would know to look in the words.

Emboldened by his decision, Caspian continued his sprint. His chest heaved, his lungs burned, but onward he pushed until he reached the base of the castle. A few watchmen shouted at him, at his hurried arrival, but he blew past them, going straight for the one place he knew Edmund would be residing when he needed to clear his head.

And sure enough, Caspian witnessed with brief relief, Edmund sat perched near the edge of the tallest cliff on the grounds, overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean down below. Such a sight usually stopped him in his tracks but he didn’t have time. Peter didn’t have time.

“Come to bring a message from Pete?” Edmund asked. Caspian didn’t miss the curl of disdain appearing on his upper lip as he spoke. “Typical, can’t even face me himself.”

“Ed! Hush! Your brother’s in danger,” Caspian said curtly, causing Edmund’s head to whip around.

For a brief second surprise filtered into his dark eyes before they hardened and his jaw clenched. Standing, his shoulders squared and Caspian could almost see the little gears turning in his head, formulating a plan in an instant.

“How many?”

“Nine as I last saw. Could be more. We’d be beneficial with the archers.”

“I agree,” Edmund replied. “I’ll round up a few of them. Get some of the first division. We need the numbers and the speed now more than strength. Anyone that can help.”

Caspian nodded. “And Susan and Lucy?”

“I’ll alert them myself, you be sure that everyone is ready to leave at once.” Caspian spied a lump sliding down Edmund’s throat when he swallowed. “We may not have a lot of time but...any extra will be enough.”

“Perhaps I should have stayed—”

“We can have this conversation later. Go. Now.”

Edmund was right, of course, but as Caspian went through the motions of gathering up a small unit of Aslan’s Army he couldn’t shrug off his guilt. What would happen if they were too late? At a moment’s notice Caspian had the choice to put his life on the line for his friend and his country and he chose to ran. Would others see it that way as well? Lucy? Susan?

The whistling of wind in his ears as his horse carried him back into the woods drowned out his mind’s doubt. He kept his grip on the reins and kept perfect posture over every jump that they encountered on their way. Edmund rode ahead of him, back straight, form strong. Except for his shoulders. Even beneath his little bit of armor Caspian found them rounded, weary. Caspian pressed his lips together. They would get to Peter in time, he was sure of it.

It wasn’t long before boisterous revelry wafted around them, carrying on the breeze like a bird’s song on the dawn of a new day. It hit Caspian like a cold wave, slamming him around until he took a breath, regained control, and followed Edmund’s signal to charge ahead.

The rogues dropped their bottles of mead, staggering to their feet as Aslan’s Army charged through. Caspian leaned sideways on his horse, catching a running ogue with the end of his sword when he swung. Reaching a clearing, Caspian jumped down from his horse and immediately ran into the foray.

His sword bit and clashed against the staves and daggers wielded against him. He dodged and parried. He ducked and swung, using the fire in his belly as a driving force to keep pushing, keep fighting. A few blows landed on his armor, creating a clang so loud it rattled in his skull but he pushed through.

Out the corner of his eye he spotted Edmund fighting a rogue about the size of a troll and the width of a barrell. A large scratch sliced through his right cheek, staring by his mouth and ending right below his eye. Edmund aimed a kick at its chest only for the rogue to grab his leg and give it a mighty twist. Caspian winced at the crack, followed by Edmund’s scream of anguish.

Arrows flew through the air, piercing the rogue’s arms and chest but it only made him grin. He didn’t slow. Caspian tightened his grip on his sword and charged forward, bringing it down with all his might. The rogue screamed as Caspian’s sword sliced through his arm, coming to a shuttering stop when it hit bone. Blood sprayed outwards, dripping down the length of Caspian’s sword. The rogue dropped Edmund and he fell to the ground with a thud where he immediately curled downwards to grasp his leg and drag himself away.

“For Narnia!” the army cried out as they ran forward, charging like a tidal wave. Caspian took the time to rush to Edmund’s side, managing to avoid the scratched rogue’s swinging arm.

“Don’t worry about me,” Edmund grunted.

“Come. I’ll get you out of here.”

“No. Get Pete!”

Caspian’s heart skipped a beat. “Where—?”

“There...over there,” Edmund managed to utter through his scrunched up face.

Caspian whirled around and saw him, Peter, propped up by a nearby tree. His head lolled forward. He sat still. So still. Caspian swallowed and ran over to him. He lifted Peter’s head, growling beneath his breath as he took in Peter’s banged up face, dried blood caked beneath one nose, and gag wrapped around his mouth. Caspian reached to untie the gag when he looked down and saw that Peter was tied to the tree and around his ankles as well. But it was the darkened patch on his side that made him briefly take pause.

He drew a knife from its holster on his waist and sawed at the ropes until Peter was let free. He slumped sideways and Caspian eased him to the ground. Please. Please. Placing two fingers beneath Peter’s neck, he waited and waited and waited...until finally he felt a pulse. It was weak, but at least it was there.

“Ed, I got him!” Caspian called over his shoulder. Edmund rolled over and struggled to his feet. He nearly fell over again but he managed to stay upwards, dragging his bad leg behind him as he hopped over to Peter. “I got him,” Caspian repeated.

“Pete? Hey, Pete.” Once by his older brother’s side, Edmund started patting Peter’s cheek. A small groan escaped from Peter’s mouth, but his eyes remained closed. “Go. I’ll stay with him.” Edmund lifted his chin over his shoulder where the rogues, now down to five, struggled against the circling Narnian army. The scratched rogue was nowhere to be seen. “Finish this.”

Caspian threw one last glance Peter’s way, pressing his lips together when Edmund leaned forward and rested his forehead against his brother’s. “I’m here, Pete. It’ll be okay,” he murmured.

Relief brought ease to Caspian’s breathing. He brushed sweat away from his brow, gripped his sword, and left the two brothers with an approaching Narnian medic.

[evangeline-perry]

Narnia 3: Peter x OC: part 11

complete series

masterlist

‘No matter what happens here every soul who stands before me has earned their place on the crew of the Dawn Treader’, Caspian spoke to the crewmen, ‘Together we have traveled far.  Together we have faced adversity. Together we can do it again. So now is not the time to fall to fear's temptations. Be strong. Never give in. Our world... our Narnian lives, depend on it. Think of the lost souls we're here to save. Think of Aslan. Think of Narnia.’ Caspian tries to keep his voice steady but I could see he was just as scared as all of us. But as he moved to walk down the stairs, the crew erupted in chanting: ‘For Narnia! For Narnia! For Narnia!’ Quickly everyone joined in.

It is dead silent on deck as we enter the mist. Streams of it start passing over the ship, circling around and through people.

‘I can't see a thing. This fog's too thick’, Drinian whispers.

I stand between Peter and Caspian, holding Peters hand. I can see them look around, bewildered, and I know they are seeing visions I’m not able to see.

‘No!’ Peter suddenly exclaims.

‘Peter?’ I ask, squeezing his hand, ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yeah’, he breathes

‘Keep away! Keep away!’ a voice in the distance shouts.

‘Who's there?’ Peter calls out.

‘We do not fear you’, Caspian adds.

‘Nor I you’, the voice responds.

Peter takes out Edmunds torch, on a giant rock to our right there is a ragged man. ‘Keep away!’ he warns.

‘We will not leave’, Caspian insists.

‘You will not defeat me’, the man shouts.

‘Caspian’, Peter slightly nudges, ‘Caspian, his sword.’

‘Lord Rhoop!’ Caspian exclaims.

‘You do not own me!’ the lord snaps.

‘Stand down’, Caspian orders, ‘Let's get him on board, quickly.’ With that Eustace scoops Lord Rhoop up and puts him down on board.

‘Be calm, my Lord.’ Caspian continues to try and sooth the man.

‘Off me, demon!’ Rhoop continues to shout.

‘No, my lord. We are not here to hurt you’, Caspian reassures, ‘I am your king, Caspian.’

‘Caspian? My lord?’ Lord Rhoop says in a small voice, ‘You should not have come. There's no way out of here. Quickly... turn this ship about, before it's too late.’

‘We have the sword. Let's go!’ Peter speaks.

‘Let's turn her about, Drinian.’ Caspian orders.

Drinian: Aye-aye, your Majesty.

‘Do not think’, Lord Rhoop suffenly calls out, ‘Do not let it know your fears... or it will become them.’

‘Oh, no’, Peter suddenly says.

‘Peter, what did you just think of?’ I ask worriedly.

‘Oh, I'm sorry’, Peter says as he moves to peer over the edge of the ship.

We all see something moving in the water, it hits the boat, causing us all to fall.

As Peter helps me up, Caspian calls out ‘Look! What is that?’

‘It's too late. It's too late!’ the Lord cries out frantically

‘It's gone under the boat!’ I hear a crewman shout. I turn around to see the sea serpent reappear on the other side of the boat, but, there hiding, I can see her. ‘Gael! Come here! Run!’

I take hold of her and pull her behind me.

Eustace flies down and begins to attack the beast together with Reep

‘For Narnia! Take that and that! Yah!’ Reep gets knocked off and grabs a hold on one of the ropes on the ship, ‘Eustace, hang on.’ At that moment the serpent dives under water, taking Eustace with him, only to reappear a few seconds later and slam him into a rock. Eustace burns the serpent, it dives under water to stop the fire.

‘Out, creature!’ Lord Rhoop shouts, throwing his sword, stabbing Eustace in the shoulder.

‘No! The sword! The sword!’ I cry out as Eustace fries of, ‘Eustace! No! Come back!’

‘We're all doomed! Doomed! Turn this ship about!’ I hear lord rhoop shout.

‘Stop him! Someone stop him!’ a crewman calls after the lord. We all get knocked back by a sudden turn of the steering wheel.

‘Now, crew... to your rowing positions’, Drinian orders, ‘Oars at double speed!’

Aslan, please help us. I think to myself. Then suddenly a small part of the clouds open and a seagull flies through the air.

The sea serpent reappears and behinds to attack the ship again. I take Gael by the hand and take her inside to our room. ‘Gael, come on! This way! Now you must stay here until someone comes and gets you’, I tell her, ‘Okay?’ Gael holds on to the blankets of the bed, tears forming in fright. I take Susans bow and arrows. As I run outside I hear Peter yell to Caspian over the noise of the splashing water. ‘Steer her to port. I'll keep it on the prow.’

I climb the steps to get a proper aim at him

‘Look out!’ - ‘Forward!’ - ‘Come on!’ crewmen shout.

I can see Peter crawl into the mount of the dragon statue in front of the ship.

‘Try and kill me!’ I hear him taunt, ‘Come on! Come on, I'm here!’ The serpent bites off the first of the statue.

‘No!’ I cry out.

‘Peter!’ Caspian shouts.

‘Archers... ready yourselves’, Drinian orders.

‘I'm still here!’ I hear Peter shout as he climbs on top of the statues head

I let an arrow fly, it goes into the beasts eye right before it rams into the rocks.

‘Brace yourselves!’ Caspian shouts.

Because of the impact, Peter gets knocked back and falls onto the deck. I run over to him and so does Caspian, then we hear what sounds like a cackle coming from the serpent. It rips open its own body looking intimidating like a snake would in a fight.

‘Move!’ Caspian pushes us both aside, so that the serpent misses when he tries to attack us. Caspian takes his blade and slashes at one of the serpents tentacles, it gets hacked off and turns into green mist before disappearing, ‘We can beat this.’

‘We have to get it closer’, Peter states.

‘All hands to the main deck’, Drinian orders. I see Peter runs and grab hold of one of the ropes, he swings himself to the nets and begins to climb up. I go back to the top of the stairs and try to get a good shot at the beast.

‘Ready the harpoons’, Caspian adds.

‘I want everybody up here!’ Drinian shouts again.

‘Ready?’ Caspian yells.

‘Aye, sir!

‘Now!’ the harpoons are thrown, ‘Pull its head down! Heave!’

I can see Peter up on the mast, ready strike, but then he freezes, a bunch of green mist floats around him. I don’t know what he sees but I can tell that what he sees, terrifies him and enrages him at the same time

‘Peter! Do it!’ Caspian shouts as he and the men try to hold onto the rops.

Parts of the ship fly of as the serpent tries to get free when suddenly Peters sword starts glowing blue.

‘Do it!’ Caspian shouts again.

‘Come on!’ Peter yells at the serpent, gaining its attention. It attacks, with that Peter is able to stab the inside of his mouth. Lightning strikes the beast and it falls back into the water, dead, turning into mist.

Light starts coming through the dark clouds as they lift away. Ahead of us small boats are seen, coming from the white clouds in the distance.

‘The spell... it's lifting’, I breath out, ‘Peter! Caspian! Look!’

‘Narnians! Narnians!’ a crewman shouts.

‘Mummy!’ Gael yells, sitting on her fathers arm.

‘Helaine!’ Rhince shouts happily. Both of them jump into the water and swim towards the boat.

I get down to the deck Peter wraps his arms around me as I place my head on his shoulder, he kisses my forehead.

‘Rhince! Gael!’ the woman in one of the boats calls.

‘Mummy! Mummy. Oh, Mummy.’

‘Let's have them on board!’ Caspian orders, ‘Clear the decks.’

‘We did it, I knew we would’, I smile, as Caspian joins us.

‘It wasn't just us, though’, Peter say.

‘You mean...’ Caspian begins but gets interrupted by, ‘Hey! Hey, I'm down here, Alexa. Over here! Hey, alexa. I'm in the water. Alexa!’

‘Eustace’, I see him swimming.

‘I'm a boy again’, he shouts enthusiastically, ‘I'm a boy.’

‘Eustace!’ Reep call out, ‘I see your wings have been clipped. Ha, ha!’ He jumps in the water to Eustace, ‘Where sky and water meet

Where the waves grow ever sweet’, Reep sings befroe drinking the water, ‘It is sweet. It's sweet! Look! Look!’

We look to where he points and see, ‘Aslan's country. We must be close.’ Caspian says.

‘Well, we've come this far’, Peter smiles.

<- PREVIOUS/ NEXT ->

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The Novelist and the King 2 As the Leaves Fall

Words: 2881

Pairing: Caspian x OC Authors Note: I’m really bad at author’s notes so there probably won’t be very many. But here is the big meeting of Caspian and Amelia, so I hope you enjoy and be sure to let me know if you enjoy and any requests you may have. 

1 A Plea to the Stars

The sound of hooves pounding across the forest ground was the only noise louder than Caspian’s own heart beat. Riding always gave him time to think and right now that was all he needed. Ever since the night before, he had been nervously waiting for something miraculous to happen. Trees past in a blur and the crisp autumn wind through their branches was the only movement around him.

Not far away, Amelia wandered cautiously around the wood, walking along a small river she had come across. The sound of running water was calming, even though every one of her nerves were on edge. It was just a dream. One painfully long, vivid dream. It had to be. Judging from the fallen red and orange leaves crackling under her feet, it must’ve been fall where ever she was.

After she had bumped into the lamppost, Amelia had taken a deep breath and gathered up her belongings, though the pages had vanished with the breeze. Her bag still held her father’s book and her empty journal. After that she figured she should try to find a town or some sort of settlement. That’s how she ended up walking through the wood for almost two hours, her feet sore and limbs aching. There was still no sign of civilization anywhere.  

Caspian’s horse slowly came to a halt as they reached a small river. A young woman in strange clothing walked slowly, holding her shoes in her hand. Destrier reared back on his hind legs, neighing loudly.

Startled by the sudden sound, Amelia whirled around to quickly, lost her footing, and fell into the rushing water behind her. The cold water instantly seeped through her dress as the light current began to carry her down the river. Caspian jumped off of Destrier, frantically searching the river for the girl. Thankfully, the current was not as fast as most of the rivers in Narnia, and he saw her come up not ten yards away.

Amelia broke above the water, filling her lungs with air before she was sent under again. When she was able to finally get herself above the rapids, she heard someone shouting and looked behind her to find a man running after her at the river’s edge.  She tried to swim to land, barely being able to latch onto a tree root. Caspian finally reached her and pulled her up onto solid ground, both of them breathing heavily.

“Are you alright?” The man asked and Amelia nodded. He quickly took off his top shirt and wrapped it around her. She shivered and accepted the warm fabric gratefully.

“W-where am I?” She asked. Things began to connect in Caspian’s mind.

“You’re in Narnia.” He answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m sorry, what?” Amelia raised her eyebrows. Everything clicked into place. Her odd clothing, her confusion. She was from a different world. Perhaps the Pevensies’ world.

“I’m sure this is all very strange for you, but I know something that may help.” He thought of the palace library, filled with books explaining all of Narnia’s recorded history. “What’s your name?”

“Amelia.” She said nervously. “Amelia Connelly.” She stuck out her hand and he shook it.

“Caspian.” He smiled, his dark eyes bright and curious. Amelia sat up quickly.

“My bag.” She searched around her. “What happened to my bag? I have to find it.” Caspian helped her look until she glanced at his horse, nudging her purse with its muzzle. She layed back on her elbows and sigh with relief. She must have dropped it before she fell.

To Caspian’s surprise, she started to laugh. It was a light sound, like that of a bell or the song of a bird. What surprised him further was that her laughter instantly captivated him.

“What do you find so amusing?” He wondered.

“All of this.” She responded, motioning around her. “I’m completely soaked, saved by someone I’ve never met, I haven’t the faintest idea where I am, and there is a horse going through my purse!” She giggled, and Caspian couldn’t help but chuckle himself. “How could I not find the situation comical?”

“Fair enough.” Caspian resolved and the two continued to laugh both laying in the cool grass. Caspian suddenly sat up, alarmed by the sound of someone approaching them.

“Your Majesty.” It was one of the workers at the palace. He studied Amelia for a moment before remembering his purpose of being there. “Your professor wished to speak with you. He said in concerned the Seven Lost Lords.”

“Yes, of course.” Caspian stood and helped Amelia to her feet. “Could you tell him I’ll be with him shortly?” The man nodded and waited until Caspian dismissed him to turn his horse back to the castle.

“Your Majesty?” Amelia gasped. “You’re the king?” She nervously stepped back and curtsied.

“Please,” Caspian took her hand and bent down to kiss it. “To you, I am simply Caspian.” They walked back to Destrier and Amelia picked up her bag, looking through again to make sure everything was still there. She opened the book and took out the photograph, trying to think of what her father would say if he was here. Of course she knew exactly what he’d tell her.

“You just shook hands with a king who saved your life!” Even his smirking tone was crystal clear in her mind. “You’d better go with him.” She smiled to herself. Not that she had much of a decision anyway. She could wander around the wood for a few more hours and get lost all over again, or she could go with Caspian and find out where she was.

She imagined her father standing in front of her with his wide grin and an adventurous look in his eyes. If he found himself in a mysterious new land- Narnia, as Caspian had called it, Marcus Connelly wouldn’t hesitate to discover all there was to know about Narnia. And that, is exactly what Amelia intended to do.

Destrier appeared to take the most precarious route back to the castle, leaping over fallen trees or picking up speed suddenly, as if he was trying to show off to the new and unfamiliar rider on his back. This caused Amelia’s arms to wrap even tight around Caspian’s waist. When they reached the end of the woods, Amelia gasped as she faced a fortress more magnificent than she possibly could have imagined. Caspian smirked at the sound of her amazement.

He remembered well how dark and uninviting this castle had been under his uncle’s rule. He remembered how many lives had been slaughtered just beyond that gate. But now, the kingdom was filled with light again. As the two rode across the long bridge and through the small village surrounding the castle, Amelia noticed the people bow and wave merrily at the sight of their king. Caspian waved back at his people, grinning broadly.

When they finally reached the castle itself, Caspian’s professor, Doctor Cornelius, rushed out to meet them.

“Your Majesty!” He exclaimed. He began to speak quietly and quickly to Caspian. He stopped suddenly when he saw the strange woman behind the king. “Where are my manners? Who is this lovely young woman you’ve neglected to introduce me to, Caspian?”

Caspian climbed down from the saddle and held out his arm so Amelia could steady herself as she climbed off the horse as well. The professor had a friendly face and a curious smile as he bowed to kiss her hand.

“This is Amelia. She will be staying with us.” Caspian turned to her. “That is, if she accepts my invitation.”

“There is nothing I’d enjoy more.” She replied. “But I wonder, you had said there might be something to help me understand this place.”

“Yes of course, forgive me I had nearly forgotten.” Caspian glanced at the setting sun and sighed. “I’m afraid I must meet with Doctor Cornelius before the night draws to late. I suppose you would like some rest after the day you’ve had.” Amelia hadn’t even realized how tired she was until that moment.

“Perhaps tomorrow you would accompany me to the palace library where you will find all of the information that one needs to know about Narnia.” His tone was hopeful.

“I would like that very much.” She gave him a small smile before he was ushered away by the professor, checking over his shoulder so he would be able to see her until the last possible moment. Not long after, a group of maids came scurrying out of the door and lead her inside.

The interior of the palace was even more stunning than the outside, with paintings and tapestries lining the walls. Many depicted a great lion, standing tall over forests and oceans.

“That’s Aslan.” One of the handmaidens said. The name filled Amelia with a sense of joy and warmth, like sitting by a fire with a  good book or walking through a field barefoot in the summer. They continued walking and another painting caught her eye. It showed a grand throne room, only instead of one throne, there were four. Each occupant sat in such a regal manor that she felt the need to kneel at the sight of them.

“Who are they?” She wondered.

“The Kings and Queens of old.” One maid answered.

“Or not so old.” Another giggled. She pointed to each of them as she named them. “King Edmund the Just, Queen Susan the Gentle, Queen Lucy the Valiant and High King Peter the Magnificent.”

“Those are quite the titles.” Amelia said to herself, staring at the picture for a few more moments before she was swept away by the hand maidens, all discussing her strange and damp clothes.

They picked a room in the western third floor corridor and excitedly started to choose dresses out of the closet, laying them against Amelia’s torso.

“This one will be perfect.” One said.

“No, no this one.” Said another. All of it was starting to be very overwhelming.

“What are you all squabbling about?” A voice boomed from the doorway. “The king said for her to get rest, not to be ambushed by the lot of you.” The maids hung their heads and scattered out of the room, still chatting quietly amongst each other.

With the crowd gone, Amelia could finally see the woman who was speaking. She was an older woman, her red hair tinted with grey. Her stern expression melted into something more friendly and- in Amelia’s opinion- motherly.

“Terribly sorry about them dear.” She came further into the room. “They tend to get a little excited whenever King Caspian has guests- particularly the female ones.” She chuckled. “Anyway, I am Mrs. Ashby, the king asked me to look over you in your stay. Now let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”

Now that she wasn’t blinded by a flurry of fabric and chatter, Amelia could see the grandeur of the room around her. The four posted bed was nearly three times the size of her bed in London. There was a writing desk in the corner, so beautifully carved, she was almost afraid to set her bag on it.

Mrs. Ashby grabbed a nightgown from the wardrobe and helped Amelia out of her dress. As soon as the nightgown touched her skin, Amelia felt like she never wanted to take it off. The fabric was so soft and warm, she wanted to bury herself in its folds. After she settled under the covers of the enormous bed, another maid came in carrying a tray with a kettle and a set of cups. She poured the hot drink and handed Amelia one of the cups. It was sweet and reminded her of coffee, but with more chocolate. It was heavenly and spread warmth all the way down to her toes.

“Well I’m sure King Caspian has a big day planned for you tomorrow.” Mrs. Ashby said and began to blow out the candles around the room. “If you should need me, just ring that bell there, and I’ll be here faster than you can say Aslan.” She pointed to the table next to the bed, where a small bell sat silently, waiting to be rung. Mrs. Ashby gave Amelia one last smile before blowing out the last candle and saying goodnight.

The morning was filled with the noise of hammers and saws as Caspian watched the ship coming together. He couldn’t stop the sense of pride swell inside himi as- after months of construction, the Dawn Treader was finally coming together. During his long meeting with Doctor Cornelius that night, the first voyage of the Dawn Treader was decided. At the end of winter, Caspian would begin the search for the Seven Lost Lords, men trusted by his father who had been missing for many years.

But he couldn’t dwell on thoughts of the journey now. He had more pressing matters awaiting him inside the castle.

Amelia had been wandering the halls, nibbling on toast and talking with Mrs. Ashby about her work at the palace. While she was one of the head maids, her husband was the lead constructor of the king’s new vessel.

“Amelia!” Caspian came bounding down the corridor after them with a very boyish grin on his face. “Are you ready to take up my offer and join me in the library?” Mrs. Ashby had never seen the young king so giddy.

“That would be lovely.” She turned to Mrs. Ashby. “Would you like to come with us?”

“Oh no, go on dear. I’ve got meals to serve and rooms to clean anyway.” She watched the two excitedly before going back down the hall. Caspian held out his arm, which Amelia took and the pair walked through the many halls, sometimes pausing to watch out one of the numerous windows. And after ten minutes or so, they reached a pair of large doors, a map of Narnia carved into the dark wood.  Caspian rocked forward on his feet and opened the door and they stepped into the massive room, walls lined with impossibly large book shelves, each overflowing with books. A grand staircase led up to a second floor, where Cornelius was discussing something with someone Amelia couldn’t see from below.

Above the roaring fireplace was a portrait. Amelia recognized it as one of the queens from the painting she had seen the night before.

“Queen Susan’s Library.” Caspian explained. “I had different parts of the castle dedicated to each of the Pevensies. This is for Queen Susan, the gardens are Queen Lucy’s, the main study is for King Edmund, and the royal armory is dedicated to King Peter.”

“You speak of them as if you knew them.” Amelia noted. Caspian chuckled.

“It’s all very… complicated.” He took her hand and started up the staircase. “This is the part of the library I have reserved for all of my favorites.” He pointed out all of his favorite books on the history of Narnia, the Kings and Queens of Old, the White Witch, and the War of Deliverance. As she scanned the shelves, the one that caught her eyes was not large or bold in color, instead it was rather small and it’s cover was a deep blue with the title in small silver letters. ‘The Telmarine who Saved Narnia’ with even smaller words beneath that read ‘The true story of Caspian X’s rise to the throne.’

“Is this about you?” Amelia asked with a tone of amazement. Caspian covered his eyes and laughed.

“How did that get up here?” He peaked his head around a stack of books and called to the professor. “Did you bring this up here?” Cornileus chuckled, clearly amused at the king’s discovery.

“I thought that the young lady might like to know a bit about who she is staying with.” As the two men made jolly quips at each other, Amelia was astonished to see whom the professor was speaking with. A mouse stood at the opposite side of the table from Cornileus. But it was no ordinary mouse of course, for it had a sword and sheath at its waist, and a small gold band with a long red feather around its ear. When it saw her, it bowed.

“Forgive me miss, but I do not believe we have been introduced.” Her eyes grew wide, and she opened her mouth, but no words came out. “I am Reepicheep, knight of King Caspian.”

“My most trusted and loyal.” Caspian added. Amelia grinned and curtsied.

“I am Amelia.”

“It is a pleasure making your company, Lady Amelia.” Reepicheep bowed again before carrying on the discussion with the professor.

As Caspian and Amelia walked around the library, Doctor Cornelius and Reepicheep watched and a knowing smile spread across Cornelius’ face. He noticed the joyous expression on Caspian’s face and the gleam in his eyes when he looked at Amelia while she picked out more books about Narnia’s past.

“Ah,” began the professor, leaning in towards Reepicheep and motioning towards Caspian. “As the leaves fall-”  Caspian beamed as he took Amelia’s hand and the couple moved around the library, both chatting and laughing happily. Cornelius smirked and raised an eyebrow. “So does he.”

[readbookywooks]

FAREWELL TO SHADOWLANDS

IF one could run without getting tired, I don't think one would often want to do anything else. But there might be special reasons for stopping, and it was a special reason which made Eustace presently shout: "I say! Steady! Look what we're coming to!" And well he might. For now they saw before them Caldron Pool and beyond the Pool the high unclimbable cliffs and, pouring down the cliffs, thousands of tons of water every second, flashing like diamonds in some places and dark, glassy green in others, the Great Waterfall; and already the thunder of it was in their ears. "Don't stop! Further up and further in," called Farsight, tilting his flight a little upwards. "It's all very well for him," said Eustace, but Jewel also cried out: "Don't stop. Further up and further in! Take it in your stride." His voice could only just be heard above the roar of the water but next moment everyone saw that he had plunged into the Pool. And helter-skelter behind him, with splash after splash, all the others did the same. The water was not biting cold as all of them (and especially Puzzle) expected, but of a delicious foamy coolness. They all found they were swimming straight for the Waterfall itself. "This is absolutely crazy," said Eustace to Edmund. "I know. And yet - " said Edmund. "Isn't it wonderful?" said Lucy. "Have you noticed one can't feel afraid, even if one wants to? Try it." "By Jove, neither one can," said Eustace after he had tried. Jewel reached the foot of the Waterfall first, but Tirian was only just behind him. Jill was last, so she could see the whole thing better than the others. She saw something white moving steadily up the face of the Waterfall. That white thing was the Unicorn. You couldn't tell whether he was swimming or climbing, but he moved on, higher and higher. The point of his horn divided the water just above his head, and it cascaded out in two rainbow-coloured streams all round his shoulders. Just behind him came King Tirian. He moved his legs and arms as if he were swimming but he moved straight upwards: as if one could swim up the wall of a house. What looked funniest was the Dogs. During the gallop they had not been at all out of breath, but now, as they swarmed and wriggled upwards, there was plenty of spluttering and sneezing among them; that was because they would keep on barking, and every time they barked they got their mouths and noses full of water. But before Jill had time to notice all these things fully, she was going up the Waterfall herself. It was the sort of thing that would have been quite impossible in our world. Even if you hadn't been drowned, you would have been smashed to pieces by the terrible weight of water against the countless jags of rock. But in that world you could do it. You went on, up and up, with all kinds of reflected lights flashing at you from the water and all manner of coloured stones flashing through it, till it seemed as if you were climbing up light itself - and always higher and higher till the sense of height would have terrified you if you could be terrified, but later it was only gloriously exciting. And then at last one came to the lovely, smooth green curve in which the water poured over the top and found that one was out on the level river above the Waterfall. The current was racing away behind you, but you were such a wonderful swimmer that you could make headway against it. Soon they were all on the bank, dripping buthappy. A long valley opened ahead and great snow-mountains, now much nearer, stood up against the sky. "Further up and further in," cried Jewel and instantly they were off again. They were out of Narnia now and up into the Western Wild which neither Tirian nor Peter nor even the Eagle had ever seen before. But the Lord Digory and the Lady Polly had. "Do you remember? Do you remember?" they said - and said it in steady voices too, without panting, though the whole party was now running faster than an arrow flies. "What, Lord?" said Tirian. "Is it then true, as stories tell, that you two journeyed here on the very day the world was made?" "Yes," said Digory, "and it seems to me as if it were only yesterday." "And on a flying horse?" asked Tirian. "Is that part true?" "Certainly," said Digory. But the Dogs barked, "Faster, faster!" So they ran faster and faster till it was more like flying than running, and even the Eagle overhead was going no faster than they. And they went through winding valley after winding valley and up the steep sides of hills and, faster than ever, down the other side, following the river and sometimes crossing it and skimming across mountainlakes as if they were living speed-boats, till at last at the far end of one long lake which looked as blue as a turquoise, they saw a smooth green hill. Its sides were as steep as the sides of a pyramid and round the very top of it ran a green wall: but above the wall rose the branches of trees whose leaves looked like silver and their fruit like gold. "Further up and further in!" roared the Unicorn, and no one held back. They charged straight at the foot of the hill and then found themselves running up it almost as water from a broken wave runs up a rock out at the point of some bay. Though the slope was nearly as steep as the roof of a house and the grass was smooth as a bowling green, no one slipped. Only when they had reached the very top did they slow up; that was because they found themselves facing great golden gates. And for a moment none of them was bold enough to try if the gates would open. They all felt just as they had felt about the fruit "Dare we? Is it right? Can it be meant for us?" But while they were standing thus a great horn, wonderfully loud and sweet, blew from somewhere inside that walled garden and the gates swung open. Tirian stood holding his breath and wondering who would come out. And what came was the last thing he had expected: a little, sleek, bright-eyed Talking Mouse with a red feather stuck in a circlet on its head and its left paw resting on a long sword. It bowed, a most beautiful bow, and said in its shrill voice: "Welcome, in the Lion's name. Come further up and further in." Then Tirian saw King Peter and King Edmund and Queen Lucy rush forward to kneel down and greet the Mouse and they all cried out "Reepicheep!" And Tirian breathed fast with the sheer wonder of it, for now he knew that he was looking at one of the great heroes of Narnia, Reepicheep the Mouse who had fought at the great Battle of Beruna and afterwards sailed to the World's end with King Caspian the Seafarer. But before he had had much time to think of this he felt two strong arms thrown about him and felt a bearded kiss on his cheeks and heard a well remembered voice saying: "What, lad? Art thicker and taller since I last touched thee!" It was his own father, the good King Erlian: but not as Tirian had seen him last when they brought him home pale and wounded from his fight with the giant, nor even as Tirian remembered him in his later years when he was a grey-headed warrior. This was his father, young and merry, as he could just remember him from very early days when he himself had been a little boy playing games with his father in the castle garden at Cair Paravel, just before bedtime on summer evenings. The very smell of the bread-and-milk he used to have for supper came back to him. Jewel thought to himself, "I will leave them to talk for a little and then I will go and greet the good King Erlian. Many a bright apple has he given me when I was but a colt." But next moment he had something else to think of, for out of the gateway there came a horse so mighty and noble that even a Unicorn might feel shy in its presence: a great winged horse. It looked a moment at the Lord Digory and the Lady Polly and neighed out "What, cousins!" and they both shouted "Fledge! Good old Fledge!" and rushed to kiss it. But by now the Mouse was again urging them to come in. So all of them passed in through the golden gates, into the delicious smell that blew towards them out of that garden and into the cool mixture of sunlight and shadow under the trees, walking on springy turf that was all dotted with white flowers. The very first thing which struck everyone was that the place was far larger than it had seemed from outside. But no one had time to think about that for people were coming up to meet the newcomers from every direction. Everyone you had ever heard of (if you knew the history of these countries) seemed to be there. There was Glimfeather the Owl and Puddleglum the Marshwiggle, and King Rilian the Disenchanted, and his mother the Star's daughter and his great father Caspian himself. And close beside him were the Lord Drinian and the Lord Berne and Trumpkin the Dwarf and Truffle-hunter the good Badger with Glenstorm the Centaur and a hundred other heroes of the great War of Deliverance. And then from another side came Cor the King of Archenland with King Lune his father and his wife Queen Aravis and the brave prince Corin Thunder-Fist, his brother, and Bree the Horse and Hwin the Mare. And then - which was a wonder beyond all wonders to Tirian - there came from further away in the past, the two good Beavers and Tumnus the Faun. And there was greeting and kissing and hand-shaking and old jokes revived, (you've no idea how good an old joke sounds when you take it out again after a rest of five or six hundred years) and the whole company moved forward to the centre of the orchard where the Phoenix sat in a tree and looked down upon them all, and at the foot of that tree were two thrones and in those two thrones a King and Queen so great and beautiful that everyone bowed down before them. And well they might, for these two were King Frank and Queen Helen from whom all the most ancient Kings of Narnia and Archenland are descended. And Tirian felt as you would feel if you were brought before Adam and Eve in all their glory. About half an hour later - or it might have been half a hundred years later, for time there is not like time here - Lucy stood with her dear friend, her oldest Narnian friend, the Faun Tumnus, looking down over the wall of that garden, and seeing all Narnia spread out below. But when you looked down you found that this hill was much higher than you had thought: it sank down with shining cliffs, thousands of feet below them and trees in that lower world looked no bigger than grains of green salt. Then she turned inward again and stood with her back to the wall and looked at the garden. "I see," she said at last, thoughtfully. "I see now. This garden is like the stable. It is far bigger inside than it was outside." "Of course, Daughter of Eve," said the Faun. "The further up and the further in you go, the bigger everything gets. The inside is larger than the outside." Lucy looked hard at the garden and saw that it was not really a garden but a whole world, with its own rivers and woods and sea and mountains. But they were not strange: she knew them all. "I see," she said. "This is still Narnia, and more real and more beautiful then the Narnia down below, just as it was more real and more beautiful than the Narnia outside the stable door! I see... world within world, Narnia within Narnia..." "Yes," said Mr Tumnus, "like an onion: except that as you go in and in, each circle is larger than the last." And Lucy looked this way and that and soon found that a new and beautiful thing had happened to her. Whatever she looked at, however far away it might be, once she had fixed her eyes steadily on it, became quite clear and close as if she were looking through a telescope. She could see the whole Southern desert and beyond it the great city of Tashbaan: to Eastward she could see Cair Paravel on the edge of the sea and the very window of the room that had once been her own. And far out to sea she could discover the islands, islands after islands to the end of the world, and, beyond the end, the huge mountain which they had called Aslan's country. But now she saw that it was part of a great chain of mountains which ringed round the whole world. In front of her it seemed to come quite close. Then she looked to her left and saw what she took to be a great bank of brightly-coloured cloud, cut off from them by a gap. But she looked harder and saw that it was not a cloud at all but a real land. And when she had fixed her eyes on one particular spot of it, she at once cried out, "Peter! Edmund! Come and look! Come quickly." And they came and looked, for their eyes also had become like hers. "Whys" exclaimed Peter. "It's England. And that's the house itself - Professor Kirk's old home in the country where all our adventures began!" "I thought that house had been destroyed," said Edmund. "So it was," said the Faun. "But you are now looking at the England within England, the real England just as this is the real Narnia. And in that inner England no good thing is destroyed." Suddenly they shifted their eyes to another spot, and then Peter and Edmund and Lucy gasped with amazement and shouted out and began waving: for there they saw their own father and mother, waving back at them across the great, deep valley. It was like when you see people waving at you from the deck of a big ship when you are waiting on the quay to meet them. "How can we get at them?" said Lucy. "That is easy," said Mr Tumnus. "That country and this country - all the real countries - are only spurs jutting out from the great mountains of Aslan. We have only to walk along the ridge, upward and inward, till it joins on. And listen! There is King Frank's horn: we must all go up." And soon they found themselves all walking together and a great, bright procession it was - up towards mountains higher than you could see in this world even if they were there to be seen. But there was no snow on those mountains: there were forests and green slopes and sweet orchards and flashing waterfalls, one above the other, going up forever. And the land they were walking on grew narrower all the time, with a deep valley on each side: and across that valley the land which was the real England grew nearer and nearer. The light ahead was growing stronger. Lucy saw that a great series of many-coloured cliffs led up in front of them like a giant's staircase. And then she forgot everything else, because Aslan himself was coming, leaping down from cliff to cliff like a living cataract of power and beauty. And the very first person whom Aslan called to him was Puzzle the Donkey. You never saw a donkey look feebler and sillier than Puzzle did as he walked up to Aslan, and he looked, beside Aslan, as small as a kitten looks beside a St Bernard. The Lion bowed down his head and whispered something to Puzzle at which his long ears went down, but then he said something else at which the ears perked up again. The humans couldn't hear what he had said either time. Then Aslan turned to them and said: "You do not yet look so happy as I mean you to be." Lucy said, "We're so afraid of being sent away, Aslan. And you have sent us back into our own world so often." "No fear of that," said Aslan. "Have you not guessed?" Their hearts leaped and a wild hope rose within them. "There was a real railway accident," said Aslan softly. "Your father and mother and all of you are - as you used to call it in the Shadowlands - dead. The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning." And as He spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read; which goes on forever; in which every chapter is better than the one before.

[narniagiftexchange]

                               THE AUTUMN NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

for  @valiantlylucy  from  @nonbinarycasmund .

Lucy was thrilled to be back in Narnia. She absolutely wanted to take advantage of it. Thousand years gone by or no, she wanted to have a proper dance on the Lawns with the trees and the maenads and the fauns and everybody! It wasn’t hard to gather everyone together for such an event. Most Beasts had already emerged from their burrows and nests, and the fauns and maenads were already around and keen to dance again. Lucy gathered a few animal helpers and went into the woods to find everyone else.

Their hidey-holes were subtle enough not to be found by the Telmarines, who feared the woods and knew nothing about them, but Lucy had spent years among her subjects and knew all about how to spot a burrow. So she knocked at doors and called out hellos until she had collected things necessary for a dance: great big skin drums, skins of wine and barrels of mead, bread and grapes and cheese. Peter carried the barrels, trying his hardest to make it look easy in front of his baby sister, while Edmund carried the drums and Susan balanced platters and bowls of food in her arms. Before long they’d all reconvened at the Dancing Lawn.

The dirt was stone-solid now, packed down under the feet of a thousand years of dancers, and the clearing was surrounded with trees grown so tall Lucy hadn’t recognised the Lawns when they had first gathered there under King Caspian. Lucy pressed her hands to the gnarled bark of the first tree she saw. They had grown much bigger than any tree Lucy had ever seen, and she reveled in it. She tilted her head back to look at their branches and leaves far, far above.

Cornelius had warned Lucy that the dryads would be more cautious to emerge from their trees than the Beasts would be from their holes. But Lucy knew what to do. She gathered everyone in to the Lawns with her infectious grin. They lit a bonfire, welcoming all their guests into the warmth. Dwarves took their places at the drums, beating a steady rhythm. Some of the other Beasts and spirits took up tambourines and began to weave between the trees at the edges of the Lawn.

Lucy could feel the drumbeat through her feet, vibrating its way up into her ribcage, pulsing in time with her heart. She felt as though she was waking up from a long and boring dream; Spare ‘Oom was as far away as it was possible to be. She sat down to remove her shoes and wiggled her bare toes in the fresh grass.

Peter walked toward her from across the lawn. “I had my doubts, Lucy, but I think this was an excellent idea.“ He leaned down and offered her his hand.

"I knew it would be.” Lucy took Peter’s hand and pulled herself to her feet. “I just can’t wait for the dryads to come out!”

Peter looked up at the trees above them. “I hope they do.”

Lucy dusted pieces of grass from her knickerbockers before joining in the dance. She used to practice the steps in her bedroom in England, just to make sure she never forgot them, and it had paid off; but the dances had evolved somewhat in a thousand years, so she had to learn them anew. The maenads slung their arms across her shoulders and drew her into the dance.

Caspian, of course, had never seen such a thing. He had heard about the Dances, of course; he’d longed to be able to see one. But his imaginings paled in comparison with the real thing. Even just warming up, the clearing was full of laughter, shouts, and the ever-present beating of the drum. Some of the Beasts he’d met, of course, but he hadn’t seen the maenads. They were fiercely beautiful with their long black hair all woven through with grape vines, barefoot and wearing fawn skins. Caspian stood just at the edge of the crowd taking it all in.

Susan came up next to him, holding a goblet of wine. “It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?”

Caspian nodded, still watching the dance, before turning to Susan. “Is it all like this?”

“Narnia, do you mean?”

“Yes.”

Susan took a slow sip of her wine. “This is something special. Enjoy it while you can!“

"What do you mean?”

Susan cocked her head and watched the dancers, long dark hair falling over one shoulder. “It’s easy to get buried in paperwork and making laws, if you aren’t paying attention.”

“I will have to pay attention, then!”

"Good.” Susan smiled at Caspian. She opened her mouth as if to say more, but the swell of the crowd swirled toward them, and Lucy reached out for her sister. Susan grabbed her hand and joined the maelstrom.

Even with the pounding of drums and of feet thrumming through the ground and the jingling of the tambourines and the hum of talk, Caspian’s attention was drawn by something new. There came a rumbling that felt as if it came from somewhere down deep, so that the whole earth felt unsteady under Caspian’s feet. He grabbed a nearby tree. The tree swayed under his palms, no steadier than the earth, and Caspian tightened his hold.

Then the tree moved in quite an unexpected way. It went forward as though it was gliding across the ground, and Caspian realised too late that he was holding onto a living tree. He scrambled backward and landed on the grass. The ground rolled underneath him as though he was on the deck of a ship. All around him, the other trees began to move.

Or were they trees? As Caspian craned his neck up, up, up to look at the trees, they looked more like people. The one he had grabbed resembled a woman with long tangled hair flowing down her back and over her arms, if hair flowed like leaves and branches.

All around them Narnians stopped dancing to watch the trees. The drums and tambourines went silent. Lucy clasped both hands to her heart before waving them in the air.

“The trees have awoken!” she cried. Voices of all timbres (deep, rolling dwarf voices, nasal faun voices, shrill voices of birds and squirrels and mice) rang out, joining in the cry.

The arms of the trees, or the branches of the people (Caspian couldn’t tell which), dipped and swayed above them in a graceful motion. The branches sent great gusts of wind down on all the dancers as the trees began to move with more speed. Lucy threw her arms up again and twirled in a circle, almost wishing she still had her gymslip on so it would swirl around her legs. She caught Caspian looking her direction and waved at him. Susan waved over Lucy’s shoulder.

Caspian waded into the crowd just as it began moving again. The dwarves resumed their drumbeat, the Beasts their tambourine accompaniment, and everything was a swirl of sound and colour. Lucy and Susan each caught one of his hands and gently pulled him along.

“Left in front, right behind, left in front, kick!” Lucy called, and Caspian tried his best to keep up. He’d been trained in dancing for years, of course, but Telmarine dances were nothing like Old Narnian dances. Still, he got the hang of the dance after only a few stumbles.

A million textures brushed past their arms and legs: soft furs, rough furs, bare skin, hair, leather, homespun fabric. Lucy was still wearing the clothes she’d been wearing on the train platform, though she’d discarded her cardigan, gymslip, shoes, and stockings. Susan had tutted at her, of course, but in the absence of many other humans (let alone those from England), she eventually threw her stockings aside as well. It had been a hot day, and with so many people close together the day was slow to cool down, though the trees’ dance served as a sort of air conditioning.

Eventually Lucy, Susan, and Caspian worked their way out of the crowd and flopped onto the grass at the edge of the Lawns. Lucy laid all the way back on the grass, enjoying the breeze ruffling her hair.

Caspian looked around the clearing, taking in this wonderful slice of his kingdom. The crowd had lessened, leaving many Beasts relaxing just as he was. Leopards arched their backs, tails waving languorously in the air. Birds ruffled their feathers and rolled in the grass.

Peter came over to them on the grass, still breathing hard from dancing. He settled down next to Lucy and ruffled her hair.

“Thanks for organising a dance, Lu. I didn’t know how much I missed it until now.”

Lucy grinned and turned her face up to the last rays of the setting sun. “Couldn’t you just stay here forever?”

The older Pevensies laughed.

“It’ll be much too cold here in the winter,” Susan said sensibly.

Lucy frowned. “You knew what I meant!”

Caspian cut in before it could all come to tears, not that it probably would. “I could stay here forever, Lucy.”

Lucy grinned and bumped her shoulder against Caspian’s. “Thank you! Isn’t it lovely?”

“Yes, it is.” Caspian again looked out over the dwindling crowd as pairs and groups left the Dancing Lawns, chattering and laughing. “I would have you stay forever if I could!”

Peter and Susan exchanged glances.

“Why do you look like that?” Lucy asked.

“It’s nothing,” said Susan, and, “Don’t worry about it, Lu,” said Peter.

“I can tell when you’re keeping something from me, you know. I’m not a baby!”

Peter shrugged at Susan, who sighed.

“Aslan told us — Susan and I — that we won’t be coming back to Narnia.”

“No, it can’t be!” Lucy gasped.

Peter put one hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “It’s quite alright, Lu. It all made sense to us when he explained it — you’ll see.”

“Still!”

Caspian leaned into Lucy from the other side. “Let’s enjoy our time with them while we can.”

“Yes, let’s,” Susan said, smiling softly. “And I’m sure we’ll have many more adventures together back in England.”

“Promise?” Lucy asked.

“Promise,” they all said together, and pulled Lucy into a group hug.

“Good.”