Hi! this is my first Narnia fic, and um... *insert crickets*

It's something that's been nagging me for a long time, i just now got around to giving it the attention it deserves.

I'm not sure about the name, so any suggestions are welcome :)

I was thinking that Susan is always the one trying to forget while Caspian takes it all pretty well, and I somehow always thought it would be the other way around. This isn't a one-shot, I do have a plot coming, this is just kind of the opening, I don't want to give it away, just trust me.

I'm really no good at this author note thing, never mind me, just please read and enjoy :D

Contrary to what the kingdom might've thought, their first kiss took place in the palace gardens.

A celebration ball was being held for the brave soldiers who had fought side-by-side with the Kings and Queens of Old to reunite Narnia and Telmar, and soon-to-be-King Prince Caspian was obviously the host. But around midnight he retired from the noisy ballroom, unheard and unseen, and made his merry way to the only part of the castle that didn't remind him of Miraz, the courtyard.

He could hear her light footsteps trailing behind him, but he decided to pretend he was unaware of her presence. The garden was a bit of a labyrinth, but Caspian knew every little corner and every hiding place. He toyed with her for a long time, walking calmly by the trees she was hiding behind of, or stopping all of a sudden so she would almost bump into him. He was almost sure she knew by now that she wasn't fooling him, yet her gasp of surprise seemed very authentic as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, having taken a short cut and stomped over a few flowers to turn the tables.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, my queen, but I could see you were running out of places to hide" he whispered in his thick accent, his breath tickling her ear and sending a rush of blood to her face. She was glad for the darkness.

"We've fought together in a war, I think you've earned your right to call me Susan" she answered, turning in his arms so she was facing him.

Now, Caspian wasn't expecting this sort of proximity, and it threw him off when she laid her hands and head on his chest, bringing herself closer. He swallowed and tried to push away some very strange thoughts that were assaulting him. He would've never thought all of this could happen to him. He never thought that all this magic – without which he wouldn't have won this war- even existed.

But magic was real. The rose petals flowed and swirled in the wind, forming shapes, conscious of their own existence and purpose, the trees danced while rooted to their spots and the salty ocean breeze carried the music of the tides. This world, this garden, was alive, and he only believed otherworldly magic was responsible until his eyes had landed upon her own otherworldliness.

Because such a wondrous creature as herself could not be a work of this land. She was the magic, she was beginning and end, she was the inspiration for all beautiful things, yet all beautiful things paled in comparison to her.

And here she was, in his arms. He wanted to ask her what this meant but he feared he would embarrass her, which would most certainly send her away.

"There's something I wanted to ask you." Her voice was so small he had trouble understanding the words. "More of a request, actually" she added when he didn't answer.

He could feel her heart beating faster, and she hid her face further into his shoulder, muttering something he didn't understand at all. He asked her to say it again, and she pushed away a little, trying to look him in the eye and convey her message. He tilted his head to the side in curiousity; she blushed furiously but held his gaze. It was then that she kissed him. But it turned out, she wanted more than a kiss.

Caspian wasn't sure what to think, or whether he was entitled to accept such a request. His mind debated on several reasons why he shouldn't, but he agreed on one condition.

"Marry me"

The whole garden fell silent, not even the nighttime insects dared make a sound. Her hands were splayed over his chest, their faces a few inches apart and his profound eyes bore into hers with so much intensity she thought she might forget how to breathe any given moment. Truth, it wasn't the first time she'd been asked that question, however it was the first time she had ever wanted to say yes. There was something in the way he said it, so firmly, so definitive. It wasn't a request, it was an order, and at the same time it was also a plea.

His hand was rough in the vase of her neck, possessive. Some part of her acknowledged that this should remind her of a not so pleasant situation with a not so pleasant prince, but she found that she liked this possessiveness coming from Caspian. She didn't know anymore whether she was a possession or not, all she knew was that she wanted to be his.

So she nodded weakly, distrusting her voice, and a small smile came to her lips as she tried to close the gap between them. He met her halfway and kissed her senseless, not knowing what else to do to express his relief.

The moon and the trees were the only witnesses as he led her into the castle and towards his bedchamber.

She stared at him through rainy eyes, standing beside the master who had captured her perfection in a land he was moments away from becoming king of. It downed on Caspian, as his eyes slipped from hers to the lion's, that the decision was not his to make.

It was with a heavy heart and a stomach wrenching feeling of uncertainty that he stared back at her, thinking that perhaps the time had come for him to start memorizing her face. Not that it wasn't already burned in the inside of his eyelids, but he figured he could not rely on his memory to properly admire her.

What could he have said to stop her? How could he have known?

He was just a young troubled prince trying to regain his rightful throne. He had more pressing matters than to figure out what that gleam in her eyes meant. Everything would've been alright. He could've lived the rest of his days with only the sweet reminiscences of shy glances and stolen brushes, the soft thumping inside his chest when he thought of her, the sleepless nights and the unspoken agreements.

Everything would've been nothing. Her memory, the foolish passion of the first love.

He could've endured, on that last day, the tremor of her lips, her furrowed brow, the last notes of her ever-melodic voice...

But why did she have to kiss him? Why had she agreed to become his wife if she was leaving? Was she aware of the spell she was casting over him? Was she aware of much more difficult she had made this?

He watched lifelessly as she walked away, his heart hidden somewhere within her graceful soul, it must have clung onto her when they embraced, for he couldn't feel it inside his own chest anymore.

Through his sorrow, he managed to reach out, weakly, towards the place she had disappeared to. His hand grasped air, and the whole kingdom fell quiet.

She felt herself disappear in his embrace, she was, after all, so very small in comparison, and it was delicious.

She got to lose herself in another world, he was her world, and it was a world no one but her could enter. She was safe and not Aslan nor any magic could make them part. She was fit for his arms, and for that moment, she pretended she was invisible and that no one knew where she was hiding. And it was a wondrous moment, the most perfect one she would ever be able to recall.

But even if she was hidden from the view of her siblings, her subjects and Aslan himself, they had all seen her disappear inside Caspian's arms, and everyone knew just where to look for her.

She decided then, as she reluctantly pulled herself away from him, that she was going to give them a distraction, a poor excuse of the Susan they wanted to take with them.

The absence of his warmth made a cold shudder run right through her, and even if only poetically, even if it was just her aching heart searching for a resolution, the shudder separated her soul from her body.

She crossed the portal without so much as a glance backwards. She stayed hidden in his arms, and her numb body fooled everyone.

Now they would never find her, for they thought they saw her coming out of her shelter.

If only he knew that the figure walking away wasn't really her, if only he knew she was still there, in his arms, with him.

They found that they could, somehow, see the other in the mirror, in their own reflections, for they had adopted many of each other's expressions. He sees her smile in his own, she sees him in the way she tilts her head to the side, he sees her when he runs a hand through his hair and she sees him in the way she narrows her eyes when she's pensive.

For Susan, this meant having a mirror in every single room of the house, for Caspian, it meant having all the mirrors in the castle thrown away.

It gave her solace when she found him in her smile, and at first, she would run to the nearest mirror. But as time passed, she learned to feel rather than to see, and when she smiled, she closed her eyes and felt him, his arms around her and his lips on her bare shoulder. It was like the soul she left behind was sending her a magic letter, telling her that everything was in order and that her plan had worked, they we're so happy together, no one had figured out their secret, and no one was going to break them apart.

It haunted him, when he found her in his own frown, and when he first realized it, anger started building up inside him, and as it was bound to keep happening, he cursed her each and every single time. The vacant spot in his chest throbbed; she hadn't had the delicacy to stitch up the wound after she stole his heart. So he cursed her, resolute that nothing could ever bring them together.

At night, Susan would wrap herself in her quilt tightly, so tightly and she would evoke his scent from her memory. It was then that she could fool herself into thinking that he was with her. Caspian on the other hand, could not stand the sight of his room, nor could he stand breathing in her sweet scent, which had stained not only his bed sheets but the entire room. He couldn't stand laying down in the bed they had shared only one damn night, he couldn't stand fooling himself into thinking that she was with him.

Susan thought Caspian had it easy, having so many things to prove him that she was real, that she had been there, and that she was forever his.

And Caspian thought Susan had it easy, having nothing to remind her of the ill-fated love they shared, nothing to remind her of the broken king she had left behind.

For many years after her departure, he cursed her name.

For Caspian many nights were spent in silence, tossing and turning restlessly in his new bed, in his new fit-for-a-king chamber, trying to ignore the ever present pang of melancholy. The bags under his eyes became a part of his signature appearance.

Cair Paravel was abandoned, the books about the Golden Age were hidden from the world. The High King's sword, as well as the gentle Queen's horn, had been locked up and left to become a myth inside the king's old bedroom, the one he habited when he was still a prince, the one that held a secret so intimate he feared people might guess it from just feeling the atmosphere inside it. Said room had been forbidden to ever be reopened, for the king's heart was to root away there, along with the memories of his youth.

At first, the young king took long walks up and down the corridor, staring doubtfully at the oak door and biting his lips before running off. As time passed, whenever he had to walk by that door, he would raise his head regally and speed up, trying a little too hard not to look at it.

The narnians were treated as well as had been promised, but one thing had been forbidden. They were never to mention the Kings and Queens of Old in their king's presence.

And while Caspian found it impossible to even voice her name, Susan found it impossible not to talk about him every second of the day.

Seeing as she was the logical one, it worried them to see her so -dare they say it?- hopeful.

Anyone would've thought Susan was taking it all very well, had anyone known there was something she needed to deal with. But for them, who had lived with her several decades more than their looks let on, she was most definitely going insane, and they were scared.

Scared of her wistful smiles, scared of the way she held onto her pillow at night while whispering his name in her sleep, scared of her general contentment. She had not once shed a single tear, nor had she moped around the house, nor had she had a mad fit of yelling at them. She was happy, truly happy, bringing him up ever time she could, like they had spent a lifetime together and she had a fair amount of good memories with him.

And sometimes, all of the sudden, when they were having dinner or just chatting peacefully, she would blush madly and lower her head to hide a beaming smile. They would ask, and she'd brush it off as nothing, but they soon learned to recognize the gleam in her eyes when her thoughts were of him. And they could only wonder just what she was thinking that was not to be shared with them.

They expected, almost hoped, for a melt-down... and they wanted it soon. They knew not how much of that nervous, supposed-to-be-happy Susan they could take.

They worried too, though not as intensely, for Caspian. As they were saying goodbye, the contrast was almost painful. In her face, a smile, in his, a frown. She was sort of glowing in a way, maybe from the newfound sense of belonging, and he was positively being drained from every ounce of life in his body. It was like she had absorbed all his energy. Lucy and Edmund couldn't wait to go back and see how he was doing.

When they asked whether he'd find a queen in the time they were gone, he felt a little bolt run through his body, and before he could give himself the time to be sulkily miserable about it, he answered "Not one to compare with your sister" in a bright enough voice, deciding to roll with the happiness their presence brought him, like a dolphin would use a wave to propel itself closer to its destination.

If he couldn't avoid bringing her up, he could at least overlook the reaction it caused in him, thereby keeping the illusion that everything was working out perfectly. He owed Edmund and Lucy this much, had it not been for them, he probably wouldn't even be alive, be it because the narnians killed him before giving him a chance, or because he was defeated by Miraz's army.

No. Lucy and Edmund deserved better than to see the man they had trusted their kingdom with falling apart over a woman. Over their sister, to whom they would surely tell everything that had transpired during their adventure. He couldn't have Susan know the effect she was having on him, being the selfless, caring person he'd grown to adore so much, she would blame herself, she would think twice before ever looking at a man, she would feel like she was betraying him.

He couldn't do that to her, and yet he wanted to. He wanted to know he wasn't the only one having a hard time.

He wanted so badly to hate her.

He was selfish, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. His love for her was growing cold, bitter, and he knew that with every sleepless night he spent mulling over the pain she was causing him, he only threw another pebble at the pile of resentment that was gathering in his heart. His days were becoming heavier to carry on with, due to the weight overload in his chest.

This sick necessity to turn all his love for her into hatred needed to stop. Maybe that was partially the reason Edmund and Lucy were sent back, to remind him that he had to be grateful, to make him see that he had to let go.

When he laid eyes on Liliandil, he felt a familiar pang in his chest. She was breath-taking, almost as much as Susan had been. He felt drawn in by her light, but then again, any man not to relish on her beauty had to be out of his mind. She pointed their destination, and just as she was about to take her leave, Caspian felt the need to know whether this was another permanent goodbye.

Knowing what awaited him, should he survive this adventure and return to his kingdom, he desperately hoped to meet with her again. He would have to find a queen someday, no matter how much he tried to put it off, and if he had to spend the rest of his life with a woman, it might as well be someone so pleasant to the sight.

As he walked towards the giant wave he thought that maybe, just maybe, she was awaiting him in Aslan's country too.

Yes, he could almost picture her beautiful face smiling at him, her hair blowing in the wind, and for a moment, he could've sworn that the water took the form of her hand, beckoning him. He reached out, his gaze intent on her bright blue eyes. But his hand went right through the water. There was nothing there, the blue wasn't that of her eyes but that of the water itself.

Slowly, almost painfully, he drew his hand away and turned his back on the illusion. There was nothing there. She wasn't there. Maybe his father was, but what did that matter? How would he explain his choice? If Susan had been there, he knew his father would understand that he wanted her so much more than a kingdom. His father would understand and respect him for following his heart.

But she wasn't there.

Feeling the moisture gather in his eyes, he looked up into the faces of those who had been granted with the gift of her presence.

She wasn't to be his, not ever. As he wasn't to have a father again. He couldn't keep blaming Aslan for putting his greatest desires in front of him only to rip them away. He was bringing this on himself, wanting what he could never have.

Life is about adaptation. Not everything can be solved through magic. He'd have to keep enduring the loss of all the things he loved, as long as he had things to love. All he needed to do was let go. Let go of things that did not belong to him anymore. If he didn't hold them close to his heart, it wouldn't hurt to have them taken away.

"It's been too long wanting what was taken from me and not what was given," he gulped, avoiding the eyes of those about to be taken from him. "I was given a kingdom, people..." he decided it was better to start living by that conviction right then. He turned to Aslan, and staring past him at the land he had to reign, said: "I promise to be a better king," and he meant it with every ounce of his heart.

Aslan remained quite expressionless. "You already are" he said, but he didn't seem to approve of the look on Caspian's face.

Caspian feared what was going through the lion's mind, and was suddenly glad that, after the King and Queen of Old and their cousin were gone, he wouldn't have to stand beside Aslan by himself, for he, at least, would have Repicheep by his side. Except Repicheep wasn't to stay either, and this much he should've learned by now, for it seamed every time a great adventure came his way, his closest friends had to follow their own destiny. And all the while he was tied down to a kingdom.

Aslan roared. Caspian's stomach roared along. This was it.

He held them close, confessed the real depth of his feelings for them, though he didn't doubt they already knew. They were so much wiser, he often forget they were, indeed, so much older than him.

Lucy... valiant Lucy who had grown so much, who was looking so much like her. He held her even tighter, whispering into her hair some nonsense about her never losing her courageous heart. Of course she wouldn't. People like her were granted the faith and strength to stay true to their hearts, to always believe. She would always be little Lucy, the Valiant Queen of Narnia. Those tears in her face would vanish, and she would live her life to the very fullest, without ever letting go of her memories.

It wasn't nice, not at all, having to see them go, having his heart shatter yet again.

He couldn't help, as had happened the first time, reaching out towards them as they crossed the portal. Wanting what was taken, it seemed to be his destiny.

But he had made a promise, and he intended to keep it. He was going to go back to his kingdom, the one that had coasted him the lives of his friends, the one that was given to him by the only family he ever knew. He was going to honour them and their absence. He was going to be a better king.

The portal in the wave closed. Caspian took an involuntary step forward, as his whole body had been leaning towards it.

"Rest assured, young king, you will see them again" Aslan spoke tranquilly.

"Pardon me, your highness, if I can't allow myself to believe you," he answered tightly, his throat still constricted by a knot.

"Whether to believe or not is entirely your choice, and I shall respect it. Good luck, Caspian, a long journey still lies ahead of you."

I really hope you liked it, please tell me if I should continue, believe me, there is a plot coming!