Midnight Bottle, a chronicles of narnia fanfic

Title: Midnight Bottle
Author: whenjenn (livejournal), yummy food (fanfiction)
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia
Characters/Pairings: Susan, implied Susan/Caspian
Ratings: T
Genre: Angst
Summary: They said that drinking solved all problems. She didn't care if it wasn't proper for a lady to drink in England. She was a queen. She sighed. That was exactly the problem. She wasn't a queen. Not anymore at least.
Author's Note: Songfic to Midnight Bottle by Colbie Caillat. My first attempt at a Chronicles of Narnia fanfic so be nice? Please?
Disclaimer: All rights go to CS Lewis, Walden Media, etc.

If a person was to look in the right place, they would have seen a lone silhouette. The bright moon was in stark contrast to the overwhelming darkness of night. At this time when most were asleep, the lone silhouette remained still. The only movement was when her arm brought a bottle to her lips.

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They said that drinking solved all problems. She didn't care if it wasn't proper for a lady to drink in England. She was a queen. She could do what she wanted. She sighed. That was exactly the problem. She wasn't a queen. Not anymore at least, so she did the only thing she could at the moment. She raised the bottle to her lips, the lips that he had touched with his own. She quickly took a gulp of the liquid. His touch, his taste, his looks, his warmth – none of it was going away, and she needed the memories to go. She needed to forget. Her changed lifestyle wasn't doing the job. The parties, the excessive make-up, the skimpy clothes had no effect, so she took to finding solace in the lovely liquid and recollections.

Midnight bottle take me come with me my memories and everything come back to me
Midnight bottle make it real what feels like make believe so I can see a little more clearly
Like every single move you make kissing me so carefully on the corners of my dreaming eyes

Her siblings noticed. Of course they did. She knew they didn't want to believe it; they didn't want to believe that their practical sister was losing herself. But seriously, what did they expect? She had left everything behind in that accursed land; she had given everything to it. Her heart and soul were to be lost forever. They didn't understand that, and they never would. Her brothers loved Narnia because they could rule and be of high status – something lacking to them in England. Lucy was always faithful to Aslan and that kingdom. But her, no. She was practical, and the one time she allowed herself to follow her emotions had led her to where she was. No, she would never follow her emotions again, probably because she didn't have any more, and the lack of emotions was also probably why her siblings were unsuccessful at bringing the sister they knew back. It didn't matter. She would find company in bottles and her memories.

I've got a midnight bottle gonna drink it down
A one way ticket takes me to the times we had before
When everything felt so right
If only for tonight I've got a midnight bottle gonna ease my pain
From all these feelings driving me insane
When I'm with you and everything's all right if only for tonight
Got a midnight bottle drifting off into the candlelight where I can find you in your time
A midnight bottle I forgot how good it felt to be in a dream just like you had me
Cuz lately I've been stumbling feels like I'm recovering
But I think it's only for tonight

As the last drops fell into her mouth, she took the bottle and threw it in front of her, reveling in the sound of it shattering on the floor. Reaching into a bag for another to ingest, a chilly breeze blew her brown locks across her face. Her hair was the one thing she could not bear to change. She loved the long chocolate strands that flowed down past her shoulders, and she knew that he loved them too. She loved his hair – how it was always perfectly disarrayed, the dark espresso color bringing out his smoldering eyes. His eyes – she loved his eyes, and he hers. If they had the opportunity, she was sure they could have lost themselves for eternity staring at each others eyes, but they didn't. She took another swig as the bitter thoughts seemed to crawl back into her mind.

After one more swallow for good measure, Susan glanced at her pile of unopened bottles and frowned. It seemed like each night she drank more and more, and each night they worked less and less. She only had a few bottles remaining. The end of her midnight escapades with alcohol by her side was coming to an end. Peter was making sure that she couldn't buy any more alcohol. In times of war, Edmund said, "You never get to do what you want, and nothing ever comes out the way you planned." Susan saw the wisdom now. She wouldn't get her alcohol, and she most certainly didn't plan this.

She sighed and closed her eyes, willing her mind to take her to a different place.

When that bottle was also drained, Susan opened her eyes. She had two more bottles left. They weren't going to be enough for the next day at all. She wouldn't even be able to get a nice buzz from them. No, she would have them all tonight.

Susan stood up, holding the neck of the last bottle in her hands. It was farewell to her memories. Finishing the alcohol with one swish, she hurled the bottle as far as she could and turned.

As the bottle completely shattered on the ground, so did Queen Susan the Gentle and Susan Penseive.

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If a person was to listen very carefully at each breaking of the bottles, they would have noticed a difference with the last one. It would have seemed as if a lion had roared and a horn had been blown.