title: fairytales don't last forever
pairing: rosecaspian
prompts: fleeting, vision, symphony, apocalypse
a/n: for the Dreamerverse Story-Off, in which I shall be competing against mah twinny, Aimy [Aiiimy], whose entry you should definitely read.
Mega huge thanks [and virtual Ben and Jerry's] to my double sister-in-law, Squishy/Beth/Ella [EllaBethh], who read over this for me, and gave me, along with eleven waving teddy bears, the confidence to post this.
This takes place between Prince Caspian and Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Y'know, when Caspian's off being a totally awesome [sexy] king, and fixing Narnia, and stuff.
warning: language - Rose is a teenage girl, and a sarcastic one at that
…
I swore I'd never fall again,
But this don't even feel like falling,
Gravity can't forget,
To pull me back to the ground again
-Beyonce, Halo
It's official.
I am never sleeping over with my cousins again.
Every time, every bloody time, something has to happen to me. There's the pyjama incident at Roxie's, the ghost issue at Dom's, and who can forget the boyfriend dilemma at Al's?
But this time? This sleepover definitely takes the cake…
…
"Lucy?" she called. "Lu? Have you got a mirror anywhere? I want to check my hair before we set off, and Molly's hogging the loo again."
She walked into the brightly lit room, tugging at the corners of her scarlet satin dress.
"Luc-"
She stopped halfway, spotting an ornate mirror in the corner of her cousin's bedroom, nearly completely hidden by the floating sapphire curtains of the nearby window.
She lifted a silver-heeled foot, but just as she stepped forward, the golden hem of her dress caught on one of the many books littering the floor, and with a string of expletives, she fell forward.
She flailed frantically, trying to find something to hold, her hands finally landing on a smooth, glassy surface.
It wasn't until she felt a tug at the tip of her fingertips that she realised that maybe there was something strange about the mirror hidden away in the corner of the room.
…
I land in a pile of dirt, coughing and spluttering and spewing curse words that even my father would flinch at.
"Where the bloody fuck am I?" I spit, yanking a beetle out of my hair. "James, you wanker, I know you did this, so just-"
"Excuse me?"
Oh shit.
I look up into two glassy orbs of, er, mud I guess. I'm talking about eyes, in case you're braindead and haven't ever read a book before.
The speaker is male, as shown by his deliciously muscled arms. Ooh, those arms.
Focus, Rose.
Right. Focus.
Let's see… What would Dad do? Ugh, he'd probably ask for a sandwich. What would Uncle Harry do? Hmm, something about analyzing my surroundings, I think? It was either that or "fantasize my groundings". I'll go with option one.
I'll start with the mysterious[ly sexy] boy in front of me.
His hair's rather nice, a bit shaggy though. But all the better to grip whilst snogging, right? Mmm, snogging… I can't even begin to imagine how his lips would feel against-
Oops, heading into uncharted territory there.
Oh, look. The sex god is talking to me. I should probably respond…
"Are you single?"
Crap. Probably not the best conversation starter…
"Who are you, Daughter of Eve, and why have you come here?"
Holy fuck, is that a talking badger?
"Wait, Trufflehunter. We know not if the girl is a friend or an enemy."
"Well, y'know what, Sir Sexypants?" I grin. "It seems like we're going to be stuck together for a while, in which case, you should probably call me Rose. Or Mistress. Whichever you prefer."
"What is she saying, Lord?" asks the badger – Trufflehunter.
Um, what? I thought I was speaking in English, but apparently the badger doesn't get it. And what kind of name is Trufflehunter, anyway? It's like he's hunting for truffles or something. Mmm, truffles.
"Have you got any chocolate on hand?" I ask hopefully, flashing a smile at the two. After a few seconds of wavering silence, I even throw in a pout. The Smoulder, some call it.
Then that damned badger speaks up again.
"Is she delusional, my Lord?"
Well fuck. And to think I was starting to like that thing.
"Y'know what – fine," I snap, stumbling to my feet. Nice, Rose, nice. "You don't have to bloody take care of me, okay? You don't have to take care of me and you don't have to give me your damn chocolate. I'm leaving."
And with that, I muster up as much dignity as possible, and storm off…
…only to trip again…
…and land in his arms.
Haha, got you there, didn't I? Let's rewind and watch in slow motion now.
Rose yells. Rose storms off. Rose trips. Rose ends up in muscled arms of extremely yummy boy.
Rose is one happy chica.
Er, back to current events now, yes?
Where am I?
Oh yes, in the arms of a sex god. Is now a good time to start drooling?
Only, er, for some odd reason, the lad seems a bit awkward. I see absolutely no reason for him to be any such thing, considering he's got a very pretty girl [downright gorgeous, if I say so myself] pressed up against him. I mean, come on – I've got breasts and things!
"Yes, Daught- Rose," smirks the badger. "I daresay Lord Caspian is noticing those things very well indeed."
Oh fuck, I spoke out loud again. I really need to start paying attention more. Ah well, at least the boy – Caspian – is fairly embarrassed. Ten points to Weasley House.
"Trufflehunter, take the girl inside, please," he mutters. "I'm off to the fencing room before supper."
I let out a gasp.
"Pointy objects?" I all but squeal. "Oh please, can I come? Please?" And then I shoot him my puppy dog eyes, and all his morals go to hell.
"You'll require slightly more accommodating attire," Caspian says, eyeing my dress warily. Ha, we all know that was just an excuse to undress me with your eyes, mister. Don't think I don't know what guys think. I've spent far too much time with Scorpius Malfoy to think that boys are anything but manwhores.
I hope he takes his shirt off…
…
His shirt is off.
I think I might die.
His shirt is off.
Holy crap.
I can quite literally see his muscles rippling as he strikes. I dunno how that other fencer is still standing. I'd definitely have gone gay by now.
Have I mentioned that his shirt is off?
…
"Do you swordfight often at this… Hogwarts?" Caspian asks, looking at me across the table.
"Well," I reply awkwardly, "we do, er, fight quite a bit, but not exactly with swords. Well, I dunno what Al and Scor do at night, but I've never fought with a sword in my life. We've got wands, you see."
"Wands?" he inquires curiously. "What are wands?"
"They help you do spells and things," I chirp brightly, pulling my wand out of my sleeve. Caspian's hand flies to the hilt of his sword, and I hear the scraping of his chair moving backwards.
"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. Er, probably. We use these to do magic," I explain, shooting a few sparks.
"Magic? Like the hags of the wood?" he muses.
"I prefer the term witch, actually," I mutter. "But, yes, in theory."
"Can you show me?" he says, eyes lighting up like the sky on Bonfire Night. Just to keep the light in his eyes, I mutter a quick orchideous, and watch as a bouquet of roses pops out of my wand.
Grinning, I hand them to him.
"For you, my good sir," I wink.
…
"'Ey, Cafpean," I mumble, mouth full of chocolate, "Loo wha Truffahumfa ga me!" Caspian looks up from what looks to be like battle plans.
"Rose," he snaps, eyes glassy and tone hateful. I swallow abruptly. "Can you care about something besides food for once in your life, please?" His eyes are stormy and piercing, and for a single fleeting moment, there's a stab of pain in my chest, and it's like the apocalypse has just arrived.
"I do care about some things, Caspian," I mutter lowly, staring straight ahead into his eyes, tears blurring my vision.
And then he silences me with the taste of peppermint, the mint to my chocolate, pressing his lips against mine, and suddenly, the chirping of the birds, the crackling of the fire, the whistling of the wind, it all comes together to form the most beautiful symphony I've ever heard.
We finally break apart for air, and I take a moment to look down at his paper out of curiosity. Hidden in the shadow of diagrams of ships and weapons, I see the faint scratching of four simple words.
I love you, Rose.
And for a moment, just this moment, everything is finally perfect, and I've got that fairytale ending every girl's always wished for. In that moment, in that one split second, we are nothing and we are everything. In that one breath, we were infinite.
…
The next day, he's left with an empty bed, and I'm left facing an ornate mirror in the corner of a brightly lit room, holding a shard of broken glass.
I guess fairytales don't last forever after all…
I dunno how I went from funny and playful to angsty and depressing. I guess I just love my angst too much.
Um, yeah, I don't know…
It probably has to do with the fact that I wrote this hurriedly in a span of two hours or so. Because I'm a procrastinator like that. When I say that a fic's coming well, it generally means I've got about two lines written. If I say it's going brilliantly, I might even have three lines down.
Y'know, I might actually write a companion to this, from Caspian's point of view. I'm really liking this…
Review?
-Drishti