Good evening, my readers. How are we all?

This is my first attempt at a) a Narnia fic, b) a Caspian-related fic, and c) a published M fic. Rated M for LEMONS :) and a bit of language. All to be tasteful, though.

I finally saw the ending of Prince Caspian the other day... fell in love with the whole Suspian doomed romance. So I decided to make it into a story. As for Ben Barnes: obsessed is not a strong enough word.

Please review, it makes my day to see that email in my inbox. And maybe Caspian will find his own way to repay you ;)

Hence - I give you Chapter One of Set The Fire To The Third Bar!

*BeatnikFreak*

Set The Fire To The Third Bar

ONE - The Name Game

"Queen Susan!"

Caspian's voice, tinged with his Telmarine accent, carried down the castle corridor like a bell. Susan turned around, the skirts of her cream dress whipping about her legs with the motion of her spin. The soon to be crowned Prince was striding towards her, blue shirt billowing slightly around his leanly muscled arms.

"Yes, Caspian?"

He bowed his head as he had done what seemed like a thousand times before. "My queen."

Susan repressed a sigh, and stepped towards his tall figure.

"Enough of this 'queen' business. We are friends, and as such, you should call me by my name, not my title." Her tone was very slightly teasing - very unlike the way she normally was with him.

Caspian noticed - of course he did. How could he not, when he noticed everything about her? The colour of her eyes was that of the sky over Cair Paravel. Her skin was the tone of the delicate white flowers she smelled of. The shape of her lips was that of a Cupid's bow.

Caspian was completely smitten, though he had no way to admit it.

"Caspian? Caspian?"

Caspian realised he was probably meant to reply to Susan's request. "If that is what you wish, my La - Susan."

He'd never spoken her name on its own like that before. A rush of something filled him, an emotion he didn't know how to name, let alone explain. An emotion he had never felt before.

Susan was still looking expectantly at him. He started, and remembered his purpose.

"Ah... Glenstorm is looking for you. He says that your bow has been mended and your arrows reflocked." Caspian smiled slightly. "They are waiting for you in your chamber."

Susan smiled: her bow was her pride and joy, and she had worried that it would not be able to be fixed after she had fallen from the rocks at Aslan's How. "Excellent." She looked up at the young Prince. "Thank you for delivering the message, Caspian." Her pale brow suddenly furrowed. "Is Glenstorm all right?"

Caspian was somewhat perplexed by the query. "Yes. Why should he be not?" His dark eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"It's just, Glenstorm normally comes to find me in person when he wishes to speak to me," Susan explained, somewhat lamely.

Caspian reddened a little under his deep, Mediterranean-esque tan. He coughed, his eyes suddenly on the toes of his boots.

Susan noticed his strange behaviour: it only served to inflame her curiosity.

"I offered to deliver the message for him myself, my lady," explained Caspian, his chocolate brown eyes still riveted to his shoes, as if they held the answer to some great mystery.

Susan was so surprised by this that she completely forgot to tell him off for the 'my lady' comment.

"Oh."

There was a loaded pause.

"That was very kind of you," said Susan at last.

"It was my pleasure," replied Caspian, finally looking at her. His accent became more pronounced as he spoke.

His voice... it's beautiful, thought Susan in a vague daze.

She cleared her throat. "You didn't need to do that. After all, you will be King the day after tomorrow."

Caspian's handsome face broke into a smile. "I thought that you did not believe in the rules for the monarchy?" he asked, eyes dancing.

Susan was momentarily dumbstruck. "I - well - that's different."

"It is?" His eyes were filled with an amusement, a light that Susan had not seen in Caspian before. A burden had been lifted from his young shoulders. "I apologise, my queen."

Caspian looked directly at her, daring her to reprimand him. A faint smile played on his lips.

The pair stared at each other for a moment that could have been a year.

It was Susan that broke the silence. "Well, anyway, it makes no sense for a Prince to be running errands that someone else could do."

"But I wanted to run this errand," he replied, his eyes meeting hers.

Susan was silent. Stunned.

Caspian moved forward to take her hand, and pressed his lips to the back of it. "My lady," he murmured, as he moved to walk away. His eyes had not left hers.

Caspian was practicing his archery when they next met.

He pulled his arm back, tensing the string and then letting go, releasing the arrow into the air.

It missed, burying itself into the lawn that lay around the back of the castle that bordered on the forest.

"I prefer my crossbow," he muttered darkly. But Edmund had suggested he try out the centaur-made longbows. And Caspian X never refused a challenge.

Queen Susan is a challenge to my heart, he thought darkly. How am I meant to win that?

"Having problems?" Caspian whirled on the spot.

Susan was standing behind him, a look of amusement quirking her lips.

The lips he had dreamed of last night.

"Uh, no," he replied, covering himself, "I am just not used to a longbow. We Telmarines use crossbows in battle by tradition. But I shall be King of Narnia soon, so I will master this too."

As if to prove his point, he nocked another arrow, drew back his arm, and released the arrow.

At least this time it went near the target.

Susan laughed, then walked over to him. "It's not like firing a crossbow - which you can do very well - " Caspian blushed very faintly at the compliment. "You have to compensate more for the draw than for the recoil."

Caspian nodded. That made perfect sense to him. He drew back his arm again.

A hand on his elbow stopped him. "Raise your arm a little."

Susan's breath was warm on his exposed neck. Caspian tried to focus on what she was saying.

He did as he was told.

"Don't tense your shoulder." Susan's hand moved to the dip of his shoulder. "Relax," she said.

"I would if I could," he murmured.

Susan didn't know what to say, so merely repositioned Caspian's arm. She tried to ignore the muscles she could feel even through his shirt.

Caspian was hyper aware of Susan standing right behind him.

"Now draw back slowly."

Her voice is like bells... FOCUS, Caspian. Focus.

"Keep it straight."

Susan suddenly drew closer to him as she laid her arms along his to guide him.

Caspian stopped breathing.

"Aim a little above the target..." her hands moved his arms.

"And release," she breathed.

The arrow soared towards the target... and hit the bullseye.

"Not bad," Susan chuckled. "I daresay you'll be pretty handy with that."

"Handy?" She sometimes forgot that Caspian wouldn't understand the expressions from her world.

"Good."

"Oh."

Susan hadn't moved yet. Caspian slowly turned his head to look at her. His face was an inch from hers.

A bolt of something akin to lightning flashed between the pair as they looked into each others' eyes.

Then the moment was broken.

"Su! Su!"

Lucy was running towards them, a big smile on her face.

Susan hurriedly pulled back from Caspian. He straightened up slightly, smoothing his shirt unnecessarily, just for something to do.

"Su, Su, look what I found!" Her face was ecstatic as she held out a huge book. "Look who wrote it!"

"Hold still a second, Lu, that way I can read."

"It's Mr TUMNUS!" The excitable young queen jumped up and down on the spot. Caspian went to retrieve his arrows, not wishing to intrude on the sisters' moment.

He also needed to gather his thoughts.

Susan, too, was distracted. She felt that her face was flushed, that her heart was beating arrhythmically.

"Su?"

Susan started. "Sorry, Lu, I missed that. Say it again?"

Lucy eyed her shrewdly. Sometimes, it was easy to forget how wise the youngest Pevensie really was. "I said, look at this bit." She held up the book. It was open to a beautiful painting... of Lucy.

"He drew it!"

"Aw, it's such a good likeness."

Tumnus must have really loved her, Susan mused.

Caspian had returned by then, arrows in hand.

"Queen Lucy," he said, bowing.

"Oh, shut up, Caspian." Lucy dropped the book into Susan's hands and ran over to the young man, arms outstretched.

Slightly taken aback, but not surprised, Caspian caught the short girl and swung her around. "I apologize profusely." That same smile was on his lips again.

Susan watched how natural the pair were with each other. Lucy had taken to Caspian instantly... and who could fail to love Lucy?

Caspian put her down gently, but Lucy grabbed his hand as she skipped back to her older sister. "What were you two doing?"

"Er..." Susan's cheeks were warming, as were Caspian's.

"Your sister was helping me with my longbow technique," demurred Caspian in that exotic accent of his. "I believe it to be much improved."

Lucy looked at them both. "Riiight."

"I must take my leave of you," said Caspian, slinging his bow and quiver over one shoulder. "Queen Lucy... Susan." He bowed to them... but his eyes remained on the Gentle Queen the whole time.

It was the evening. Dinner had been fraught. Absolutely fraught.

Caspian had found it incredibly difficult to keep his eyes off Susan. She had been wearing a green dress that exposed a semicircle of her creamy skin, and he had become increasingly distracted throughout the torture of the meal. Edmund had had to poke him at one point to get his attention. He'd ended up excusing himself with a headache.

Headache? Heartache.

He stopped pacing his room.

Was that what it was?

Did he love Susan, Susan Pevensie, Queen Susan the Gentle, the fairytale who had come true? The intelligent, kind, wise, beautiful Susan who was all a queen should be? And everything a woman should be too?

Did he heck.

Susan had not enojoyed dinner either. Her eyes had landed on Caspian far too often.

His face. His hands. His hair. His eyes, that narrowed when he spoke, then widened when he laughed. He hadn't laughed at all tonight, though. He had seemed distracted and out of sorts. And then he had left early, claiming a headache.

So now Susan was confused, frustrated, and on top of all that, worried.

But why am I worried?

The answer came quickly and easily.

Susan Pevensie. You love him.

Caspian was feeling very restless, and the wound on his back was aching. He tugged his shirt over his head, feeling the twinge as the healing skin stretched.

All he really wanted to do was sleep.

Well, that wasn't exactly true.

What he really wanted was... Susan.

Susan decided to do something that she would never have done before.

After wishing her siblings goodnight, she made as if towards her room... then passed her door and went to Caspian's.

Sleep, however, did not look likely to come any time soon, so Caspian tried to think of something to relax his tangled thoughts.

He dropped the shirt that was still in his hands unceremoniously on the floor, then walked out onto his balcony. He started to watch the stars, leaning on the balustrade. He'd loved to do this ever since he was a little boy.

A little boy who knew nothing of what was in store for him.

Caspian sighed deeply, leaning against the marble. He would be king of all Narnia in under two days, and he had no idea if he was ready, despite Aslan's words.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Come in, it is not locked!" he called, feeling the weariness in his voice.

Susan pushed open Caspian's door, and walked in.

"Caspian?"

He was nowhere to be seen. His leather waistcoat was draped over a chair, and his boots had been kicked into a corner beside an elaborate wardrobe.

Susan smiled a little at that.

"Caspian?"

"I am on the balcony," his voice replied, his accent pulling up his words. He sounded ... tired.

Susan walked out onto the balcony.

"Oh!"

The prince was leaning on the balustrade that was so similar to the ones that had been at Cair Paravel, mahogany hair blowing in the wind that disturbed the warm night air. He still had his tight black trousers on - but he was shirtless. And gloriously so.

His coffee-hued skin had a subtle glow in the moonlight, and she could see every one of the muscles in his nevertheless slim frame.

Caspian turned around, then coloured again. "Queen Susan, I did not realise it was you. I apologise."

Susan was already backtracking, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude -"

"Don't go."

His voice held a note of something that Susan - nor Caspian himelf - had ever heard in it before. It was... longing.

Susan stopped.

"Why is it you were, as you say, intruding?" asked Caspian, once again looking amused.

She blushed. "I was checking you were all right - you seemed not yourself at dinner."

"Your concern is appreciated," he smiled.

"I was just coming to see if you were okay, I didn't expect to find you in such a... relaxed state of dress," she gabbled.

He reddened again, yet still remained perfectly formal. "If my lady prefers, I can put on a shirt? I do not wish to cause upset or offence."

Susan shook her head. "It's fine." Caspian smiled wider for a minute. "I mean, that cut probably needs air, right?"

Caspian nodded, still smiling at her hurried covering.

"Does it hurt badly?"

"A little." Susan could tell he was lying, so he wouldn't cause a fuss.

"I should probably g-"

"Don't go - " Caspian bit it back, the plea in his voice. He straightened up. "I mean... her majesty is welcome to stay if she wishes."

Susan stepped one foot closer. "Why do you insist on these formalities, Caspian?"

A thrill went through him as she spoke his name - just like it did every time.

"I do not wish to be improper."

"Well, I do not see it as that," retorted Susan.

"My lady, I only wish to be polite," Caspian explained hurriedly. "I do not ever wish to offend you."

"You couldn't," she murmured, then made as if to leave.

But he caught her wrist gently in his long fingered hand. "Please do not go..." He looked right at her. "Susan."

Susan's heart skipped a beat. "Caspian, I - "

His voice was barely above a whisper. "I know." The Telmarine accent in his voice made it sound like a spell, some arcane words of love.

And then he closed the distance between them even as she stepped up to his body. His arms wrapped around her waist, and hers locked around his neck.

Caspian kissed her, chastely at first, holding her tight to him. And then his tongue flicked against Susan's lip.

Her mouth instantly fell open. Their tongues met even as their lips did, touching tentatively then tasting, embracing like their bodies.

As their kiss turned more passionate, Caspian pushed Susan up against the wall, his arms tightening as if he would never let her go. Susan's hands traced greedily all over his chest and back, drinking him in. Her legs, seemingly of their own accord, wrapped around his trim waist. Caspian responded by kissing her harder, one arm moving to her exposed shoulder blades.

Susan could hear Caspian's quick breathing, even as she heard her own pants. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest, which was pressed so tightly to hers that he could feel every curve of her.

I have been blessed, thought Caspian as his heart raced.

I have been blessed.

What did you think? Yes, no, maybe?

And sorry for the cock block, I'm new at this. Besides, I wanted it to be slower.

Review, and I'll try to have the next chapter up by tomorrow night.

*Peace out*