So this little one-shot came to me this afternoon as I was day-dreaming about Prince Caspian (I tend to do that alot, by the way) and perusing through the Narnia fanfiction.

It's very movie-verse, because well, this is obviously a Caspian/Susan thing. But I incorporated the rest of Caspian's story, at least, what I remembered from the books. I hope it's pretty accurate; I didn't have the resources to check since I'm here at college and my beloved Narnia series is at home on one of my many bookshelves.

The one thing I'm deliberately changing is that Susan doesn't 'lose faith in Narnia' at the end like she does in the books. She hangs on, because, obviously, she's hanging on to Caspian.

Okay. I'm done rambling now. Just read the freaking thing.

Lifeline

She was gone.

He couldn't believe it.

Just like that, she walked out of his life forever. For a moment he forgot he was still standing on the platform in front of his many subjects, in front of Aslan. As his world crumbled down around him, he struggled to hold himself together.

He didn't look at Glenstorm's knowing eyes, Trumpkin's shrewd and calculating expression, nor Aslan's piercing gaze. His eyes were riveted on the gap in the tree, staring out to the valley and mountains beyond, wondering what Susan was doing now. How much time had already passed in her world?

The taste of her lips was still lingering on his, the feel of her hand on the back of his neck still there, and the fire that touch created still burned. It was hard to tell that she had actually left; the ghost of her presence was still potent in the air in front of him. He couldn't bring himself to move, afraid that he would disrupt the feeling and it would be lost forever.

"Your Majesty?" Aslan's questioning voice rumbled.

Caspian blinked, trying to pull his eyes away from the tree and being unable to succeed.

"Why can they not come back?" he whispered, so softly that only the great lion could hear. "Why did you make them leave?"

"Edmund and Lucy shall return," he said. "And you shall live to see them again."

"I know…"

Somehow, that was not as comforting as it was meant to be.

"There is another destiny in store for you, my son," Aslan continued.

"I do not want another destiny."

"Come on, sire, what's done is done," Glenstorm put in, finally speaking.

Of course, the star-gazing centaur knew what was best, Caspian fumed internally. With great force and what felt like physical effort, he turned to face his subjects again.

"You have your confirmation," he said, speaking loudly as he addressed them, trying as hard as he could to keep the shaking grief out of his voice. "The Kings and Queens have gone through. Anyone who does not wish to live in peace with the Narnians is free to leave."

After a moment of murmuring, a line began to form in front of him, mainly consisting of nobles who would lose their titles and those who belonged to families with a history of deep-seated prejudice. More than half of the citizens stayed, however, and Caspian was greatly relieved to see that they were standing in the square, intermingled with the Narnians, showing no fear or hatred towards them. It seemed that he was not the only child told of the Old Tales.

They each bowed as they passed him; some sincerely, others mockingly. But he endured, lost with the memory of Susan in his head.

And soon it was over.

"Come, King of Narnia," Aslan said as the last of the leaving Telmarines filed into the tree. "It is time to leave this place."

"With all due respect, sir," Caspian said slowly, "I would like to remain here awhile longer."

"It does not do to dwell on things we cannot change, King Caspian. Susan has learned all she can from Narnia, her home is in England."

"I know…" the King murmured, still staring at the tree. "But I wish I had known in advance, I wish we'd had more time…"

"I wish it too," the lion said. "It is sad that the Kings and Queens have departed. But to delay their leaving, that would have made it harder on both you and them, and you know this."

Taking a deep breath, Caspian nodded, understanding. If things with Susan had gone the way he'd wanted them to, and then she went back later, it would have torn him apart, ripped him up more than it did now. He knew this. And yet…and yet he couldn't help wishing for what might have been. What if, like last time, they were allowed to stay indefinitely? A thousand scenes of maybes, could-have-beens and possibilities flashed through his mind.

Glenstorm's hand was on his shoulder then, a calming and steady influence on Caspian's steadily collapsing world. He hadn't realized he was shaking until the warm presence of the hand stilled the movement.

"I'm going to miss them too, sir," Trumpkin said gruffly. "But we must be going on. There are plenty of things to see to at the castle."

He was right, of course. Flanked by Reepicheep and Trumpkin, Caspian followed Aslan into the castle of his birth. Servants bowed as he passed, walking numbly into the throne room.

"Sit, Caspian the Restorer," Aslan said commandingly as they entered, his powerful voice echoing off the walls.

Caspian sat, but not on the throne. He leaned against the steps, unwilling to take the place last occupied by his scheming and usurping uncle, feeling that there must be some evil left there from his brief reign, and irrationally afraid to touch it because maybe the evil that corrupted his uncle would seep into him too, and he would be lost.

"You have great plans for Narnia," Aslan said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes sir," he murmured.

"Then I leave it in your capable hands." And with that, the mysterious lion roared, shaking the very foundations of the castle, and vanished, leaving only a fading, shimmering haze in his wake.

…

The next day, Caspian went to Cair Paravel. He wanted to restore it to its former glory. He took many Telmarine workers with him. It seemed only right; Telmarines destroyed it, and so Telmarines shall be the ones to fix it.

Even in ruins, Caspian could see what a glorious wonder the castle would have been. He could visualize the tall marble columns, the magnificent glass roof over the throne room, the bright, lush, fabrics that would have adorned the windows. He wandered a little ways away from everyone else, up the ruined leftovers of a set of stairs. There was a rotted wooden door, and it was ajar with a hole around the doorknob. Curious, the king walked though it, wondering where this could have led.

Another set of stairs led him down into the ground. Light from up above was shining down somehow, illuminating the chamber he had now discovered.

Four chests lay in hollows on the far wall of the small room, each with a statue behind them.

Caspian held his breath, certain now that he had stumbled upon the belongings of the Kings and Queens of Old from when they ruled. He walked slowly towards them, looking closely at the statues.

First he studied High King Peter. Even replicated, the man gave off an aura of power, his stance and expression leaving no one to doubt his authority, or his skill. Even though the statue was of an older Peter (a mystery Caspian could not figure out) the resemblance was uncanny.

Next, he studied King Edmund. Slightly younger, but no more powerful, the young king seemed well built and speedy. From what Caspian had seen of the younger king in battle, he was more graceful than his brother, thinking with his quick mind rather than with his muscle, and the statue showed it.

Queen Lucy's statue seemed the one that had changed the most. A tall and graceful young woman in this replica, it was obvious the tell-tale light of hope in her eyes had not dimmed. The older replica of his young friend showed Caspian that Lucy would grow up to be every bit as lovely as her sister.

This in mind, he turned slowly to his left and gazed on the face he had saved for last.

Susan seemed nearly unchanged. There was an older look to her face and eyes, to be sure, and her hair hung nearly to her waist, but those were the only differences he could see. He stepped gingerly around the chest in front of her and reached out his arm, his fingers stopping just inches away from her stone form.

He was afraid to touch her, afraid he might lose his tenuous hold on sanity if he stayed in this room much longer.

But he couldn't tear himself away. Her stone eyes bore unblinkingly into his dark ones and seemed to posses him. He brought his hand up and gently caressed her stone face, tracing the line of her jaw with his finger tips, feeling the smooth stone of her lips.

"I miss you," he murmured quietly to her as his hand trailed down her neck to glide across her collarbone. "I feel like my heart has vanished with you, never to return."

The statue was so realistic it felt like he was almost talking to her. He could smell the wonderful scent of her hair, hear the melodic softness of her voice. Here, in this buried, underground chamber, the spirit of the Gentle Queen of Narnia still resided.

It was to this room that the new King of Narnia came for guidance and hope, and he would visit Susan's statue many times over the course of his reign. He came to her for courage to cross the sea to find the Seven Lords, he came to her when he decided to marry Ramandu's daughter, he came to her when his son was born.

Susan was there to comfort him when he stumbled down the hidden steps, wild and incoherent with suppressed grief, after his wife was murdered by a snake. She was there when he ran to her for help when his son disappeared, seeking his mother's murderer.

And when he felt old age creep upon him at last, he went to Susan for closure.

With her he had confided all his secrets, his fears, his accomplishments. She was his lifeline, the one person who understood him completely, the one woman he truly loved beyond anyone else. Without her, he would not have been able to accomplish all the things he had done, he would not have been able to bring Narnia back to its former glory. Everything he did, he did for her, because he knew that she would have wanted it so.

And when Aslan appeared to him as he lay dying in his castle, Caspian sighed with acceptance, ready and willing to follow the great lion. The golden light of Aslan's country had already began to touch the edges of his vision as the last breath left his body, and Susan's wonderful voice was calling him home.

So yeah. I bet it wasn't what you expected. It wasn't what I expected either...it kinda just wrote itself that way.

Tell me if you liked it.