Prunaprisma admired her sleeping babe nestled in the crook of her arm. He had a shock of black hair, much like his father. She frowned. No, her Tristan would be nothing like Miraz. Not if she could help it. for though Miraz did not understand what she was grieving about, she had loved Caspian. It was impossible not to. When she had first arrived he had been a child of four. With his beautiful golden curls and an angelic toothless smile, he had captured her heart. And after eight years and two miscarriages, he had been the only place where she could channel all her love. Miraz was not a loving man, no, he had only kept Caspian about to ensure that there was an heir. As soon as young Tristan had been born, he had ordered Caspian's death. Prunaprisma, still recovering from her long labour had no idea. And now it was too late.
The carriage jolted. The baby woke, but did not start crying as she had feared. He only stared at her with wide, curious eyes. Prunaprisma hoped her father would be happy seeing the healthy son she had borne. Her father was seldom pleased with anything she did.
Suddenly the fifty or so men accompanying her carriage stopped. Prunaprisma drew the curtains. She knew Miraz's orders. There were to be no stops till she was safe in her father's castle. Why then were they stopping now?
There was a shout and then a scuffle. And all too soon, the sounds of battle filled the air. Prunaprisma started crying, and the baby, sensing her tears started wailing. She tried hushing him in vain. Prunaprisma saw the door to the carriage opening. She felt a cold hand clamping on her heart and then unbearable pain in her chest. The shock of the battle was too much for her weak, ailing heart. She crumpled on the ground, the baby still in her arms.
I, Lady Arrianna Rutherdale, had been whisked off to another world and thrust as rudely back into my own. I was thus prepared for whatever was thrown at me by the fates. But I was wrong. Nothing, I repeat nothing prepared me to see the sweet little baby cradled in the arms of a dead woman.
You see, I had joined Caspian and Aeron ( a brute of a man, I assure you who disliked me as much as I disliked him) and chanced upon dear Tumnus' diary. And when, few weeks later we had been captured by the Narnians' (the Free Narnians' as they call themselves) it was his diary which saved us from being drawn and quartered. Almost everyone was astonished that I should return after centuries, and believe me it felt good to be the stuff of legends, even though some painted me as a heartbroken lady who was so sad after the departure of her bethrothed that Aslan had taken pity on me and let me go into Spare Oom where I lived happily ever after.
Needless to say I did not enlighten the merry creatures that I had lost my heart to my bethrothed's brother, King Edmund the Just.
Anyway, I was told about the current affair of things by Glenstorm the good centaur. Then we (which sadly includes that lout Aeron) decided to quickly install Caspian as a leader of the Free Narnians' to rally their support.
Very soon after that, we set up an Intelligence Unit consisting of Mice, Birds and Cats to gather information. We knew something of importance was being taken to Lord Bonhaim's castle. Reepicheep the Mouse was quite sure it was a rich horde of presents for the Lady Prunaprisma's father. We sadly needed funds for more weapons if we were ever to form a rebellion thus we decided to waylay the carriage. Now, I am sure Aslan would frown upon this measure. But we were desperate. The crafty Calormenes sensing turmoil in Narnia had upped the price of iron needed for weapons. Since we dare not mine and draw attention to ourselves we had to but their iron for the Dwarfs to work on.
But sadly it was not rich gifts the carriage was carrying. It was Prunaprisma and her new son. The fifty men guarding her stood no chance against the mighty centaurs and Aeron. Even Caspian was a fair fighter for a boy so young.
I gathered the baby in my arms. It looked up at me and felt my face with pudgy arms. He had dark hair and dark eyes.
My heart melted. Did Edmund look like this when he was little? I cooed at him and he broke into a toothless grin.
"What is that…this?"Aeron said, panting. He looked at the baby disbelievingly.
"Hmmm…a very difficult question indeed. I would venture to say….its a baby!" I said, my tone curt.
Aeron opened his mouth to say something cutting, no doubt. However Caspian cut him off.
"This…is this my cousin?" He said, coming nearer to me. He brushed his knuckles across the baby's face.
I nodded and held out the baby to him. The baby immediately started wailing. I took him back into my arms and hushed him.
"Is my aunt..?" He said, unable to form the dreaded word.
"I am sorry, Caspian." I said.
"She was kind to me." he said, his eyes tearing up, though he tried to hide it.
I turned my face away then. For Caspian's tears were not that of a petulant little boy's but the grief of a man. I could not bear to see it.
The baby started to wiggle restlessly in my arms, no doubt hungry. He started crying and I had no idea what to do. I looked at all the mighty Narnians for assistance, but as one they drew away from the baby. Hmph, men.
I sighed disparagingly and climbed on one of the Horses which had brought us and hurried t the campsite where hopefully, some older females would help me out.
Even if none of them were human, they would know what to do.
I looked at the crying baby and imagined Edmund's face, and was surprised to find the tears spring to my eyes. I thought the pain would dull with the days. Yet it was already a year and the pain had grown steadily worse.
I wish he were here. I wish they were all here.
I should have known that wishes were dangerous things. After all, Tumnus' life should have taught me that. But nothing is as stubborn to learn as the heart.
I was to pay dearly for my wishes.