The End and the Beginning

A Narnia Fan Fiction

By lightsabermaster

Summary: Caspian is lost, utterly lost. Post- Prince Caspian, movieverse.

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia, C.S. Lewis does. Or Aslan does. Depends on who you ask.

Thanks to: My awesome beta reader, Nathaniel Hades, for the motivation to write and not letting me nit-pick too much.

Caspian was lost, utterly lost, and so he was wandering the halls of the castle, quietly, hoping to find himself and nobody else. A week ago he would not have been used to skulking about; the life of a Telmarine Prince was not conducive to much privacy, nor was there any need for it. But he had become an old hand at stealth since the night Miraz had tried to steal his throne, and tonight he tiptoed from door to shadowed door, dark cape pulled close about himself and eyes on the sharp lookout for any movement other than his own.

After several close calls with the palace guard and one very near tragic discovery by one of the young centaurs who was a guest in the castle (Caspian only escaped by pretending to wheeze like an old man while covering his face with a corner of his cloak), he finally reached the top of a little-used turret that overlooked the vast plain toward the East and the sea. After closing the door behind him and latching it securely, Caspian stepped to the battlements and finally allowed himself to slump forward, elbows on the low stone wall and hot forehead resting on equally hot fists. The slight stirring of the cool night air felt wonderful against his cheeks and in his hair, so there he stood, unmoving, letting the damp cold from the stones spread through the bones of his arms as he stared, almost unblinking, down at the moonlit plain.

It was all so strange. One week ago, this very night, he and Professor had been up on the highest tower together, looking up at all the wonders of the sky while the Professor recounted tales of Old Narnia. Today, Caspian was living in Old Narnia, only it wasn't Old Narnia anymore, it was New Narnia and he was its King. He was a warrior, a leader, things he'd been trained to be all his life but had never really hoped of becoming. He had touched the Histories and they had touched him, making him feel more alive than ever, though he still had a difficult time believing that he was awake and that it was all real.

He sighed deeply and dropped his head so that his fingers could run through his hair. He'd left his crown in his chambers; he felt very strange with it on, as if all the weight of rebuilding this land had been forged into the metal framework of the crown and now sat directly upon him. It did, of course, and though Caspian knew he could not escape that awful weight just by shedding his crown, it did help in some small way not to feel that heavy band circling his head. While he wore the crown, he was King, and must hold his head up high and confident as befitted a King. But without the crown, he could be plain old Caspian again, if only for a moment, and not a soul would notice or begrudge his weakness.

The moon was full and bright in the sky, and Caspian lifted his head to stare at its familiar face. By now his wrists ached from the cold seeping through his bones, but he stayed as he was, fingers threaded together as he pondered the giant white sphere hanging above him. The moon was one of the only familiar faces at hand now, as many of those he'd grown up surrounded by had either been killed on the battlefield or had chosen to step through Aslan's door to a new life. In a way, he could understand; Narnians had been a myth for centuries, a story told to frighten children into behaving well. Proof of their existence rocked the very core of Telmarine belief, and not everyone could find it within themselves to accept this new reality. However, if he was honest (and Caspian was quite honest), it hurt to see those who should have been his subjects choose the faceless unknown over being led by him. It was as if they didn't believe in him the same way they didn't believe in the Narnians, as if he was incapable of this new role.

And perhaps he was. In fact, he knew he was. Oh, it had all been easy before. He'd had High King Peter and King Edmund to make the decisions and bounce ideas off of. After all, they had ruled Narnia for so many years and knew what was required of a good King and how to handle things. Caspian had been trained in the Telmarine way, a way he knew would be unfit for ruling this New Narnia for many reasons, not the least of which being that there were no guidelines on how one may properly greet a Faun or an Owl. Kings Peter and Edmund knew all those things, and without their guidance, Caspian felt terribly ignorant and inadequate. But they had returned to their world with Queens Susan and Lucy, leaving him alone to fend for himself in this strange new world.

"You are never alone."

Before the voice had finished speaking Caspian's sword was in his hand and he had whirled to face his visitor, sword at the ready.

"A-Aslan," he said with a mixture of embarrassment and relief as he lowered his sword point.

"A good warrior always keeps his ears and his wits about him," said the Lion as Caspian resheathed his sword. Then with a hint of a smile, "I see that you have your wits, but your ears may need a little work."

Aslan chuckled as he strode to the battlements close to where Caspian had stood and looked over to the East. Caspian returned to his spot, still maintaining respectful distance between himself and Aslan. They stood together in silence, looking out over the land, until Caspian could keep quiet no longer.

"How did You find me?" he asked.

Aslan smiled his lion smile again, still looking out. "A little Mouse told me. Though I dare say he would protest most greatly to being called 'little', and insist that 'valiant' would be a far better word."

A small smile crossed Caspian's face. "Reepicheep, I might have known."

"He was only looking out for your well-being. He likes you a great deal, you know. He respects you."

Caspian smiled sadly. "Perhaps he shouldn't. Some king I am. Half of my subjects chose to leave rather than live under my rule, and here I am, sulking like a child."

"There is nothing wrong with being a child," replied the Lion. "The Kings and Queens of Old were but children when they began to rule over Narnia."

Caspian turned to face Aslan. "That's just it, Aslan. King Peter, King Edmund, they were both prepared. They both know so much. They should be wearing the crowns, not me."

There was silence for a moment. "Is that what you think?"

The look of reproach in Aslan's eyes was more than Caspian could bear, so he looked away, ashamed. "I think that Narnia would be better off in the hands of somebody who knew what they were doing," he replied after a moment.

Suddenly, a rumbling sound began to emanate from the lion's body. Caspian tried to steel his ears and heart for the roar of displeasure he felt certain was coming, but when it didn't come he listened closer and found that Aslan was laughing.

"What is so funny?" Caspian asked.

"I remember having this very same talk with King Peter the night after his coronation. He was feeling overwhelmed, just as you are. He, too, had left his crown in his chambers." At this Caspian self-consciously touched his brow where his crown should have been. Aslan continued, "1300 years and everything has changed, yet nothing has changed. Kings are all the same."

Caspian pondered this for a while. "Do you-- do you think I can ever be a good king like Peter?"

"A good king, yes. Like Peter, no. These are different times, and your people need a different sort of king. Yes, the Kings of Old knew a lot about Narnia, but the Narnia they knew is long gone. Now the people of Narnia need a king who is only just learning, as they are, how to live together, Narnians and Telmarines, Animals and Humans. They need you, Caspian, not Peter or Edmund or Susan or Lucy or even Me. And you are worthy of them, I assure you."

The sky was beginning to lighten now, and the cool breezes of night were growing warmer with the light. The silence was comfortable as both monarchs stood, watching the golden fingers of the sun begin to creep through the soft pink sky and over the jeweled sea, illuminating the tops of the waking trees and finally flooding the castle walls with brilliant yellow light.

"Narnia has been gravely wounded," said Aslan at last. "She is healing, but she still needs your help. Will you take care of her for me?"

The realization hit Caspian suddenly. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

"I have many other things that must be attended to, my king. Narnia is not the only world in my kingdom, and I must take care of my subjects just as you must take care of your own. Now I ask you again: will you love Narnia and all her inhabitants, and will you care for her as you care for yourself?"

A few of the trees had now fully awakened, and as they shook their branches the birds that had found shelter during the night suddenly found themselves airborne. Caspian watched them swoop and scold, and he knew suddenly that this was right. This was Narnia, this was his home, this was his kingdom, and he would devote his life to it.

"Yes," he said finally. "I will take care of Narnia. And I will do all that I can to keep her safe until Your return."

Aslan turned to face Caspian, and Caspian knelt before him. Aslan spoke. "Remember, Caspian, you are never alone. I will always be with you, and in your hour of need, call on me and know that I will help. Trust in Me, and have faith in those around you. They will not let you down."

"I will, Aslan." Caspian stood. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. Son of Adam." Caspian was startled as Aslan suddenly growled and whirled to face the rising sun. As Caspian watched, Aslan crouched, then let out an ear-shattering roar as he leaped over the battlements toward the land far below. Caspian dashed to the edge and looked over, but the Lion had disappeared. The soft echo of a lion chuckle resounded through the wind, and he smiled, knowing that Aslan would be there no matter what.

He smiled tiredly as he stood there for a moment before turning to head back to his chambers. His hand hadn't even reached the door handle when a whoosh and a slight clatter sounded from directly above him and a voice declared, "Good morning, Sire!"

"Good morning, Reepicheep." Caspian stepped back to get a good look at the little mouse on the top of the wall.

Reepicheep bowed gracefully. "And a lovelier morning I never have seen. Would you like some breakfast, Sire? The cooks are practically beside themselves with worry over the eggs, and I fear one may have a nervous breakdown before long if a certain royal someone doesn't assure them that their culinary skills are just fine."

Caspian couldn't help but smile. "You are a very wise mouse."

Reepicheep bowed again, saying, "I only hope to be half as wise as my King."

"Shall we go?" Caspian asked, hand on the door.

"Lead the way, Sire." Reepicheep did a double flip off the wall, landing a respectful distance behind Caspian as he unbarred the door and pulled it open, flooding the stairwell below with brilliant sunlight.

"So, Sir Mouse, do you have any other useful suggestions for me this morning?" asked Caspian as the two descended the steps.

"Well, I was thinking… perhaps we should create a secret stealth unit to spy on and, pardon the term, take care of any traitors that may happen to be in our midst?"

"And let me guess. You know the perfect mice for the job?"

"Well as a matter of fact, I do, Your Highness. It's just a matter of--"

Caspian's laughter rang throughout the halls.

Finis

Thank you so much for reading. :)