Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. And there's stuff in there that still isn't mine, even if you don't recognize it. In summation, I'm not very original.

Thank you to:WillowDryad and Kristi for having read over at least a quarter of this fic, for being honest about their opinions, and for assuring me that I didn't have to worry so much over a story that wasn't in the horrible shape I thought it was.

Also thank you to: meldahlie for unknowingly (and possibly unintentionally?) inspiring this work. (If you're reading this, mel, surprise! Haha. I'll explain later. ;) )

The castle had been all in a hustle and a bustle for a week. Flowers of every colour were everywhere, every bit of precious metal was polished to a lustrous gleam, the halls echoed with constant chatter and commands, maids and man-servants scurried this way and that, and even the lords and ladies exerted themselves with breathless excitement. Of greater importance was that Caspian, young as he was, was no longer just an observer. He managed to carry himself with dignity all the way from supper with Uncle Miraz and Aunt Prunaprismia, but the moment his chambers were in sight, he raced down the hall and burst into the room.

"Nurse, Nurse! I get to toast at the feast and I may have wine – Uncle said! – and I'm to practice with you!" A maid bearing a tray with the aforementioned wine followed him in, while Caspian set a wee scroll on Nurse's lap. "Uncle said Master Poet wrote it special for me and it's an honour to – I don't 'member, something about her'tage –, so I'm going to say it on Third Day!"

Nurse laughed. "Slow down, your highness! Let me see what you have there. Now what's this about? – Over there is fine, thank you." The maid obediently set the tray on a side table and excused herself.

Caspian repeated himself, but as he did, he noticed that Nurse wasn't really paying attention to him: the more she read from the scroll, the more her smile faded. "Nurse?"

She worked her lips as though she was on the verge of saying something, but then she caught her words in her throat and swallowed them back. "The feast begins tomorrow," she finally said. "We don't have much time to prepare."

"I can do it!" Caspian puffed out his chest. He pulled her hands down so he could see the contents of the scroll. "See? It's not very long. I can mem'rize it!"

"Then we had better start. Just let me move my knitting – there we are. Now, we'll read it through a couple times."

Caspian settled into Nurse's lap and listened. Nurse had taught him his letters and he could read a little, but some words – most of them, if he was honest with himself – looked rather intimidating. He was glad she was there to read them aloud for him.

Attend ye, men of Telmar,
on this our day of victory;
hear ye, old and young,
forget not our proud history.
Three hundred years,
we stand tall and strong;
Three hundred years,
his legacy lives on.
War he waged, battles he raged:
our great and fearless warrior;
Nations he razed, Telmar he saved:
hail Caspian Conqueror!

Nurse read through the first four lines several times until Caspian was able to say it along with her, then by himself.

"Very good, Caspian. That's enough for tonight, I think," she said. She rolled up the little scroll and set it by her knitting. "We'll finish tomorrow when we're fresh for a new day."

"Uncle said I need to have some wine so I will be ready for it on Third Day." Caspian reined in his anticipation as best as he knew how, to prove to Nurse that he was indeed big enough to have some.

Nurse smiled. "Well, if you will get off my lap, I can pour you some." Caspian scooted off double-quick and watched as Nurse crossed the room to the flagon's resting place. "Just a sip to start," she warned.

Caspian stared at the rich redness that swirled in the golden goblet and he decided it was pretty. He took a sip and promptly made a face, but when he noticed Nurse's eyes crinkling in silent laughter, he made a valiant effort to check his reaction. Uncle Miraz had said that no toast was royal or festive without wine, and that a prince should of course be both, so Caspian finished off what remained in the goblet before accepting the water Nurse had readied for him.

"Come on, into your nightshirt. I have the perfect story for you tonight."

"What is it?" Caspian immediately began to unbutton his vest.

Nurse tickled him, sending him squealing with laughter into his bedchamber. "I'll tell you when you're ready for bed!"

Though he really was in a hurry to hear Nurse's promised story, Caspian chattered the whole time. "I like the Feast of Caspian. Last year, there was lots of dancing and music. And mountains and mountains of food! Master Poet said this really long poem on First Day, but I liked watching the play behind him. And a big sword-fight at the feast on Third Day! I'm e'cited I get to do something this year! Aunt Prun'ismia doesn't think I'm big enough, but Uncle Miraz says I am."

Nurse helped him find the end of his sleeves and pulled the nightshirt down over his head. "If you don't settle down, little highness," she scolded him playfully, "you will never get to sleep. Into bed with you." Caspian grinned and wriggled under the covers, leaving room for Nurse to sit on the edge of the bed. "Now. This story is about another feast, one from a long time ago, when Narnia was filled with Talking Beasts and Dryads and Fauns and Centaurs, when two kings and two queens reigned. Do you remember them?"

"Peter and Susan and Edmund and Lucy!" Caspian responded, his eyes gleaming.

"That's right. This story happens exactly one year after their coronation and there was to be a feast at their castle of Cair Paravel, sort of like Day of the Crown."

Caspian thought about the one day a year dedicated specially to Uncle Miraz. A "modest celebration", Uncle Miraz had called it, but it seemed to Caspian that the two words ought never be put together, for the only celebration was the parade and the "modest" remainder was dull speeches, long-winded toasts "to your majesties' good health", and a banquet lacking in plays or sword-fights. With this in mind, Caspian asked, "Was their Day of the Crown the same?"

"Oh, no. This was a grand affair, more like the Feast of Caspian."

Relieved of his fear that this feast would be as boring as Uncle Miraz', Caspian's interest returned in full force. "They must have been great kings and queens!"

Nurse smiled. "They were, but their greatness was yet to come. Great monarchs are not made in a year: it takes time and effort and the grace of Aslan. However, some Narnians forgot that. They wanted a four-day feast: one day for each of the kings and queens, much like we do for your uncle, so they could celebrate and honour them for ending the White Witch's reign and bringing happiness to Narnia."

"Nurse, you're getting the story wrong! Aslan beat the Witch and made it Spring."

"You have a good memory!" Nurse praised. "Most everyone did too, but there those who didn't. You see, they were very proud of their kings and queens, but when people become too proud, they forget about Aslan." Nurse paused to think. "It would be as though your uncle gave you a gift, but then you got so used to having it that you forgot where it came from. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"The two kings and the two queens were, at first, delighted by the idea of a four-day feast – Narnians loved a good, long celebration –, but when ideas of celebrating one monarch on each day crept into the plans, the kings and queens took council together. None of them liked the idea of making themselves the center of attention on the occasion, for they wanted a feast of remembrance for all of Narnia. High King Peter and Queen Susan thought the feast should be made shorter, but it was King Edmund and Queen Lucy who found the happy solution: each night, one of the kings or queens would make a toast to remind Narnia of what they were really celebrating."

"Just like me! I'm going to toast at the feast!"

"Yes, just like you. Queen Lucy wasn't even much older than you are – perhaps by three or four years."

Caspian beamed at the thought of being nearly equal with these legendary kings and queens.

"So the kings and queens agreed and the feast proceeded as planned: food and wine aplenty, happy conversation and laughter everywhere you looked. The mermaids sang, the Dwarves played along, and the Fauns and Dryads danced. Then Queen Lucy stood at her throne, silver goblet in hand, and the great hall quieted to hear her speak."

Nurse was no longer looking at Caspian. Her eyes took on a dreamy appearance, as though fixed on a vision of the scene she related through her words. Caspian waited for the toast of the ancient queen.

"'Dear friends,' she said, 'we thank you for joining us in this feast. We are thankful for so much and we wanted to celebrate it with you all. It seems as though it's been more than a year since, by some magic, Aslan brought us – my brothers and sister and me – to Narnia. We who were strangers, He chose to bring here and crown kings and queens of His fair land; just as He chose Narnia to be the nation on which He would bestow His greatest blessings. A toast: to the Highest Lord of Narnia. To Aslan!'"

"To Aslan!" Caspian responded with a punch of his fist into the air as though raising a goblet.

"Shh," said Nurse through a smile of a repressed chuckle. "You'll wake the castle doing that. It's time little princes went to sleep."

"But what about the rest of the story?"

Nurse tapped his nose gently. "We will finish it another time. We want you to be ready for the Feast of Caspian, don't we?" Caspian nodded. "Then you need all the rest you can get."

Caspian turned onto his side and Nurse tucked him in. "Good night, Nurse."

"Good night, your highness."

She dimmed the lamp and left it with him for company before shuffling out to the antechamber. Through the partly-open door, Caspian watched her move back and forth as she tidied up a few things. She grasped the handles of the wine tray, but did not pick it up. She turned to look at him and Caspian quickly shut his eyes and pretended to be asleep. After a moment, he heard a rustling in the antechamber and only then did he dare to crack his eyelids open. Nurse held the goblet halfway to her lips, which moved with a soft murmuring. Try as he might, Caspian could not hear what she said. Nurse lifted the goblet, as though to salute the moon that shone through the window. This time, Caspian heard her whisper, "To the Highest Lord of Narnia". Then Nurse downed the wine she had poured and then stood still a moment longer. Caspian furrowed his brow. Why would Nurse drink to the ancient toast? For that matter, why did she drink at all? He'd never seen her drink any wine, even when it was nearby. Was that why she had looked at him, to make sure he wasn't watching?

Caspian interrupted his questions to close his eyes again when Nurse shook herself back into movement. There was more rustling as she picked up the tray and her knitting and then left the chamber, closing the door behind her with a soft thump.

By that time, Caspian's perplexed thoughts faded away into a dream of fantastic creatures and young royals giving speeches.

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