AteIsa: SHE PUBLISHED A STORY AHA I'M SO PROUD

Ilovecheetos: HAH. I BET NO ONE THOUGHT I WAS EVER GOING TO PUBLISH ANYTHING. Watch me.

Admittedly, this isn't exactly a very cohesive fanfic (I started by writing the last part, and worked my way backwards) and I know it's not my best work, but I like it just the way it is. The entire thing is based on this picture of Caspian and his Queen chasing each other on the beach near Cair Paravel, both laughing and not feeling particularly Grown Up. It's a very A.A. Milne-esque way of telling the story, which is the way I always imagined it; a very innocent and short tale.

Caspian married Ramandu's daughter and they reached Narnia in the end, and she became a great queen...

Caspian knew that he had never seen anyone so beautiful as the lady, who, though dressed in a simple blue garment and wore no crown on her fair hair, shone with the light of the stars. Something inside him stirred.

Something that, before now, he hadn't thought about very much (he had always believed that he was Not Quite Grown Up enough for what they called Falling In Love and marriage and such) - but the something was a flaming, burning desire in his heart. He was not entirely sure it was a thing he ought to be feeling, and he thought for a moment that it was not the sort of thing Aslan would approve of. But he listened to the proud, haughty little voice inside which was saying that he was a king, and how he was not only a Nobody; how he was really very Grown Up (he had fought not only his uncle's army, but the giants from the northern border!), and how he had every right to feel and say what he wanted.

"In the world from which my friends come," he said, groping for words, "they have a story of a prince or a king coming to a castle where all the people lay in an enchanted sleep. In that story he could not dissolve the enchantment until he had kissed the Princess."

A strange look crossed the lady's face. But suddenly she looked even more solemn and noble than before. In a way that was almost painful, her shining, pure eyes, for that fleeting moment, looked very much like Aslan's.

"But here, it is different. Here he cannot kiss the Princess till he has dissolved the enchantment," said she.

Caspian knew he would have spoken some other foolish thing after that if he hadn't seen Reepicheep out of the corner of his eye. The Mouse was paying him no heed, but just seeing Reepicheep made him think twice. It all rushed into his mind at once - he remembered the Quest, the sleeping lords, the day that he swore to search for them, his coronation, the battle against Miraz's army, and the duel, and High King Peter, and Aslan.

Oh, Aslan.

He remembered how he was only a boy, a Nobody, really, who had nothing to boast of save that Aslan had (wonder of wonders!) chosen him to be King. How could he have thought otherwise? He realized that he was, after all, only a very foolish boy, and Not Very Grown Up at all.

The Lion surely wouldn't have liked it - his thinking about kissing her only because she looked beautiful. Reepicheep wouldn't have approved of it either, much less Edmund and Lucy.

But even in his guilt and shame, he dared to look again at the lady. And a light in her eyes shone, a light that reminded him of Aslan's own. And through that, he saw her, not what she looked like, or what she said. And he realized that she truly was the most beautiful, most pure, most... oh, words weren't fit to describe her. His heart swelled, not with desire, but with Something - a most wholesome and lovely feeling - he could not quite place. The Something was so real and warm and golden - and - he would have gladly given up his title and everything he owned just to know her.

He felt a little foolish again, but it was a different sort of foolish. It was a nice, humble, Not-Very-Grown-Up-ish sort of Foolish.

Caspian knew now that he did not want to kiss her, but to see and know that pure golden light that was hidden in her eyes. He thought that if Aslan was there, the Lion might have smiled a little rather than growled. But suddenly Caspian remembered the three sleeping lords. Yes, before anything else, he had a duty to the Lion.

"Then in the name of Aslan, show me how to set about that work at once."

The daughter of Ramandu counted the days. She didn't even know if he would return; what good was it to count?

"Lady, I hope to speak with you again when I have broken the enchantments."

That was the last thing he said before he left. Oh, what good was it to count? She supposed she must be a very silly girl. She did not even know if she was in love. But ever since she had seen the light in his eyes as he spoke Aslan's name, she knew she wanted to talk to that golden-haired boy once more. He was just like the men from the stories - brave, strong knights who would vanquish great monsters and sea serpents. She could not believe that for once, Someone had come to the island - Someone that she dearly wanted to speak to. She wanted to listen to his stories.

"Patience," Ramandu had said. "Yes, I know, my dear."

Of course he knew; her father seemed to know everything.

"Do not worry. I know he will come back."

He didn't.

At least, not yet. She tried to count again. But the days became endless, and she mixed up the numbers. She tried to talk to the man who had stayed behind, but he was sour and bitter at the time, and did not make for good company. Twice the daughter of Ramandu asked him about the king, and twice he only mumbled vague answers about a "dratted talking mouse." She gave up.

But one day, the sleeping lords awoke.

The daughter of Ramandu saw a black speck against the bright sea. The Dawn Treader had returned. She squinted, trying to make out the moving figures on deck. There, grinning wildly, and frantically waving at her, was Caspian.

Later, Drinian would tell the men how fast the king swam on the way to the island. In fact, he was the first to arrive.

Ramandu's daughter was sweaty and breathless - she had ran as fast as she could to shore. Caspian, clothes and hair still drenched with salt water, came up to her eagerly, barely containing the smile on his face. Then suddenly, a shyness overtook him, and he found that he could not speak. Instead, he took her hand gently and kissed it.

At first, the daughter of Ramandu took the guise of a polite hostess, offering those small, rather meaningless questions about whether one enjoyed the food or the weather. But soon, their conversation went from idle inquiries to real questions. They found themselves talking as if they had been friends for a long time.

"Have King Edmund and Queen Lucy returned to their world?"

"Yes, they have. And Reepicheep has gone to Aslan's Country. I... I do not think I shall ever see them again." His eyes glazed and he looked so sorrowful that Ramandu's daughter thought he would start sobbing. But she had to tell him.

"My father says that they will not return to this world in your time, my lord."

"Your father is surely much wiser than I am, lady," he said, "and I know what you say is true. Yet - I can't help but hope."

She felt sorry for him. Unlike the great and bold knights in the tales, he was a king, but he was also only a boy. And he seemed so very lonely.

"My lord," she stammered, suddenly finding that her words had all flown away, "I - think - you will not always be alone."

She held his hand, and he grasped it tightly.

She asked for stories. Caspian told her of his adventures. And they were such marvelous adventures! There were awful storms, long dry spells in between, then a sea serpent, and dragons-

"Dragons, my lord?"

"To be perfectly honest, you could say there was only one dragon, and it was a friend to us. The other was dead."

"Oh. Was it the Lord Octesian?"

"Perhaps."

He spoke about the Dufflepuds, pirates, slave traders, and all sorts of other strange things she had never even dreamed about. She had heard all sorts of wonderful stories from her father that she treasured dearly and kept close to her heart, but Caspian's stories were nothing like them. But his stories were wonderful.

"They clearly had had enough of Gumpas, you know."

"Yes, I am glad that you chose Lord Bern as Duke. He seems like a good man. The Lone Islands will be a much more pleasant place now."

Ramandu's daughter had never been on such a voyage, but she was able to tell him about the stars' dance in the night sky that none save the Centaurs and the stars themselves can decipher.

"It must be wonderful up there, being able to see everything underneath you."

"It is. But sometimes, I think it looks much nicer from below."

Then Caspian spoke about Home, which was Cair Paravel, a beautiful castle nestled in between the woods and the beach on the Eastern Shore of Narnia.

She longed to go there.

Then they played silly games.

Well, Caspian thought that other people might have called them silly, but to him the games were not silly at all. Ramandu's daughter only laughed at him, but he didn't feel bad about it.

He taught her some English games, which, of course, he had learned from Lucy and Edmund (as a child, he had not known many boys of his own age and so he knew very few Telmarine games). Ramandu's daughter, like Caspian, had no one to play with while she was growing up, and thought that having someone to play games with was very delightful. Besides, she didn't consider herself quite Grown Up yet, and didn't believe that Caspian was either, so it was not at all silly to play games.

She told him so, and he said that she was right. He also turned very red.

But what they liked best was to run. They would run all over the beach, darting from the sand and waves to the rocks further back. The game always ended with both of them in the water, tired and wet, but always laughing.

Underneath the laughter was something beautiful that neither of them understood yet. But they both knew that the games weren't silly at all.

After a good, long chase down the beach, when they were both sitting on the sand near the waves, they would talk. Once, during a bright afternoon, they talked about Aslan.

"He's so - he's... I don't know how to describe him," said Caspian.

"One could start by describing him as a wild Lion," replied the daughter of Ramandu. "If there's anything I know about him, it's that he's not a tame Lion."

"Well, yes, that's true," said Caspian. "But the thing that strikes me the most is how he died not only for Edmund, but for the whole of Narnia, and even beyond. I mean, it is a great comfort to know how much he loves us, isn't it? Of course, I believe with all my heart that whatever he says is true, but doing is an entirely different thing from saying."

"You are right," she replied slowly, thinking. "Even those who do not believe in his words cannot deny what he did."

Caspian sighed, looking towards the west. "But can you believe it? Not so very long ago, I knew a Dwarf who said that Aslan was nothing but a myth."

"Forgive me for saying so, but he must be a very foolish Dwarf indeed!"

The stars could never deny Aslan's great deeds and words, much less his existence. Ramandu's daughter (who, of course, had never met anyone who didn't believe in Aslan) found herself feeling incredibly sorry for that Dwarf - and surprised as well, for she had always imagined Narnia to be a nearly perfect place! She could not imagine anyone dismissing Aslan like that. And yet she was speaking to a king who must have known hundreds of doubting Beasts and Men. In a strange way, it suddenly made her feel shy and just a little awed. It was like a great king had stepped out of the stories! And that great king was her friend. But suddenly she thought about how he was really only a boy, and Not Quite Grown Up yet, just like she was. Somehow, that made her feel shyer than before.

"Yes, I do feel sorry for him," said Caspian, still thinking of the Dwarf. "But I'm glad that there are very few of those sort in Narnia now. It would look very foolish to ignore Aslan after all that has happened - why, I wouldn't be a king now if he had not sent help!"

And you wouldn't be here if he hadn't made you king, she thought to herself. Yes, Aslan had a most complicated chain of events in his paws, but he always knew exactly where it would end.

"It's very funny, really," Caspian continued. "How we are all Nobodies in the beginning, and yet Aslan chooses us to do great things we never even dream of. When I was a child, I read stories about brave knights who would set off and have wonderful adventures (not so very different from mine)! And the stories all ended with the knight vanquishing a great evil and falling in love with a beautiful lady..."

He trailed off, still looking towards the sea.

"I never imagined that something very like it would happen to me."

Then he looked at her, and he smiled.

She remembered the stories her father would tell her about kings and queens and giants and witches, and how she wanted to leave the island to be a great lady or queen. She had wanted to be Somebody famous and worth remembering. But she was only a Nobody, stuck in her father's island. And yet...

She had stayed on the island, and Somebody had come to her. He was definitely worth waiting for. Was this why Aslan had made her wait all these years? And if the king did love her, she would be his Somebody now. Perhaps her dreams would come true after all.

Caspian was looking at her expectantly, still smiling. She took his hand.

Day by day, week by week, Caspian felt a growing anxiety. He had no doubt now about his love for the daughter of Ramandu, but he dared not tell her. He wished, more than anything, that she might go with him to Narnia and become his Queen, but he did not dare. What if she refused-?

What if she, did not, after all, love him? And he had only tricked himself into believing it? He was almost sure that it was no trick. But one cannot find out answers if one does not ask. And though they had asked each other a hundred different questions before, Caspian dared not ask this one.

Drinian and the men finished building the boat. A few days later, the Dawn Treader was already well stocked with food and provisions. Still, Caspian could not - or did not - dare.

"Sire," said the captain, "the weather is fair, and the men are growing restless. Are we setting sail for Narnia soon?"

"Yes," replied Caspian, with a heavy heart. "Tomorrow. We will sail for Narnia tomorrow."

That night, he could not sleep as he watched the stars. But after a long, restless struggle, he did. And he dreamed that Aslan was speaking to him.

Do not dare not to dare.

A dreadful feeling overcame her that day, as if something awful was going to happen soon. Ramandu told his daughter that the Dawn Treader would be leaving that morning.

And that meant the king would be leaving too. Well, she supposed, perhaps it wouldn't end like a fairytale after all. She'd be left behind to wait forever and ever. But she did not cry or feel sorry for herself at all, choosing only to remind herself that Aslan always knew where the threads of destiny would end - that he had a plan. Maybe she would always be a Nobody on the island for the rest of her life, but if that was Aslan's plan she could be content. After all, one can't really be a Nobody if one is living for Aslan.

Her mind made up, she made her way to the beach where the king was helping the men move casks of fresh water to the boat. She prepared to say goodbye.

He remembered Aslan's words from the dream. Caspian realized that if he did not ask her then and there, in the midst of their last farewell, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

Even when his heart began to beat like lighting, he mustered up all his courage, and dared.

Still holding on to one end of the cask (Drinian was carrying it from the other side) he looked at her, and stammered, "If... perhaps - what I mean to say is - could you - do you love me?"

Nothing could have been less romantic than the way he asked the Question, as Drinian slowly lowered the cask, half the crew stopped their work to watch, and Ramandu stared right at him. But her eyes lit up, and she cried, "yes! Oh, I really do! But - do you love me?"

"With all my heart!" He replied, surprised at her answer. "Would you - would you marry me and... come back with me to Narnia?"

Caspian had asked in a hurry, his face red, and the words jumbled together in a flurry of mixed emotions. He felt as if he ought to be ashamed for not being able to ask one question, being a king and all, but his cheeks were burning for a different reason. It was because she was still smiling at him. It wasn't a pitying smile for a confused boy who knew not what to say, but nor was it the sort of fake, indulging smile you make when the king asks you to do something you do not want to. She was smiling, looking shy, but also excited and hopeful all at once. And - oh, her eyes! Caspian already knew her answer when he saw her eyes dance.

"Yes, I truly would!"

And before they had time to wonder at what was happening, they were standing by Aslan's table, with little preparation and hardly any ceremony. Caspian, in his excitement, had not been able to prepare a ring, and hadn't bothered to change his (rather unkingly and dreadfully stained) sailor's clothes, but no one really minded. Ramandu's daughter was still in her lovely blue dress, and though it was not like any proper wedding gown, under the sunlight it was tinted with white and gold, as if the Lion himself had clothed her.

And that was more than enough for both of them. With the Lion's blessing, Ramandu wedded his daughter to the King of Narnia at high noon, with the Dawn Treader's crew and captain as witnesses. The Telmarine lords, newly awoken from their spell-bound sleep, rejoiced in their new Queen as well.

Such a quick wedding that broke too many traditions would most likely have been frowned upon in our world. Perhaps even in Narnia, the former Telmarine people would not have approved of it at all - not if it was the king who was getting married! But no one minded it at all. The crew broke into cheers after Caspian had kissed his bride, and afterwards there was a great feast and dance that everyone would come to remember for decades.

"Sometimes," said Caspian, "I wonder why Aslan chose me, an inexperienced kid - a Nobody - to become King. But I am very grateful that he did, because it led me to you."

The silver-blue water swirled around their feet. Ramandu's daughter splashed a little bit of it on Caspian, making him laugh.

"And I'm glad that I stayed on this island, even if I wanted to leave very badly-"

"But I'm afraid," Caspian cut in, suddenly anxious, "that you must have been expecting Someone... well, older. And braver. Someone from the stories, and not a boy king like me. Someone really Grown Up, who has really fought dragons and sea serpents all by himself. And yet here I am, somebody who can boast of nothing save for the fact that Aslan chose me."

"But don't you see? I'd have thought - and I think that you know: that's all that really matters," said she. And then, with a laugh, she added, "and you didn't let me finish! As I was about to say, I didn't want to be a Nobody on this island forever, but in the end I realized that I already was That Somebody, because of Aslan. The day after, you asked me, and - well - I don't know, but it was only after I understood that you asked. I suppose that was how Aslan wanted it to happen."

"Oh," sighed Caspian. "Almost the opposite thing happened to me, when we first met. It was when I remembered I was Somebody Important only because of Aslan (I has become quite conceited then) - it was only then that I really understood it all. I see we've both been a bit silly!"

Ramandu's daughter splashed him with the cold water again as she laughed, but this time he splashed her back.

"That's why we ended up with each other, you know," he continued, hardly holding back his laughter, "I see it now. We are opposites, but we are so alike - both Nobodies who are Somebodies, both lonely (not really, we've got Aslan, but we took a while to figure it out) and we are both Not Quite Grown Up yet-"

Caspian ended his speech with one great splash. His lady's eyes danced as she took her revenge.

"Yes, it does seem a bit funny, now that I think of it," she said, getting up. "Not Really Grown Up, you say? Then why does my lord remain sitting on the sand like an old man?"

"An old man? Me?!" As quick as lightning, he had darted off to a reasonably defensible position, deeper in the water. "You shall come to rue those words, my lady, when you have lost this war."

"And why are you so sure of your victory? Come closer, if you dare!"

They spent the afternoon trying to get one another as wet as possible. It was a long and wonderful fight, and both King and Queen fought relentlessly. In the end, however, Caspian surrendered after having found that unfortunately, standing in the water for long periods of time while a fresh sea breeze is blowing right at one's face makes one cold and tired. The great battle in the waves finished, they both decided to rest and lay on the sand.

"I wish it could always be like this!" Caspian exclaimed. "I feel very glad to be Not Quite Grown Up just now."

For a second he wondered if he looked and sounded silly (especially because he was a king) but he looked at Ramandu's daughter beside him, and Caspian knew that he was happy. The burning desire in his heart had disappeared altogether, and had been replaced with something much, much more.

"So am I," she said. "So am I."

They smiled at each other, because in their heart of hearts they knew Aslan had meant it to be so, and deep inside they also knew it was the only thing that mattered.