A/N: Every time I return to "All the Dreams..." it frustrates me to no end. The story lacks cohesion and is thinly plotted. I'm so pleased so many people love it (it is the most-reviewed and most favorited of all my stories), but I feel like it could be so much better. Originally when I started writing it I had sequel syndrome, which means basically that the story existed only as a continuation of the first part, "Caspian's Queen" and not as a story in its own right. I've reimagined the plot a bit so that this story is more compelling, and as I now have the whole thing laid out I'm hoping it will be more unified. I'm not taking down the original because it's so different and so many people have favorited it, but I offer this as a different--and I think better--option. I'm curious to know what you all think. We begin, as the title suggests, three years after the end of "Caspian's Queen."
Three Years Later
Lucy
"Hair like spun gold, she has."
"Eyes like the sky on a fair morning."
"Poets! You are admiring the wrong features."
I heard the whispers as I walked past and I blushed furiously, especially at the last one. I knew my dress was too low-cut, but my maids coaxed me into it. Now everyone was staring. A musician somewhere trilled a lute and started to warble a tune about a beautiful lady who melted hearts as Narnia's ice melted. I wanted to tell him that song was written about Susan, but I didn't. I was too busy trying not to trip on my dress. As queen in my own right I had changed the fashion to make the skirts a bit shorter and more manageable. Susan still wore her trailing gowns, but I liked something I could move in. This dress, however, was Telmarine in style, with much less than I was used to on the top and a dozen trailing layers of skirt on the bottom. I could feel the eyes of every man in the room on me, and nothing was more uncomfortable. I was used to people looking at me as a queen, as a girl, as a warrior but never as a woman.
At last I reached the end of the Great Hall where Edmund was waiting for me. Beyond him I could see Caspian on his throne, grinning away.
Edmund raised his brows, appraising me as he offered his arm. "That's quite a dress."
"Don't start, " I muttered out of the corner of my mouth. I felt my cheeks go redder, and Edmund snickered.
He led me to the thrones. Though his expression was perfectly serious as he announced me to Caspian, who was perched in Peter's old place on a throne built from the crumbling remains of my brother's.
"Your Majesty," Edmund said in his clear king voice. "I bring before you my sister, Lucy of Narnia, once rightful Queen at Cair Paravel in the Golden Age of Narnia. Today is her sixteenth birthday, and she has reached womanhood. We ask for your blessing."
"What recommends her to us?" Caspian answered. I had already been through this ritual once before with Peter, and Caspian spoke with the same thinly veiled humor at all the ceremony. I glanced at him and had to repress a smile, just as he was.
Edmund grinned, clearly enjoying himself as he began to list my deeds. This was the Narnian tradition: when a girl turned sixteen she was recommended to the Kings and Queens with a list of all the accomplishments she had made, just as with boys at eighteen. I was not surprised to find that the Telmarines had no such tradition, and I was eager that Caspian should reinstate it for Narnian girls. At the time I was only thirteen, and I didn't think of having to do it myself.
Edmund's list was quite long, and it made me blush: "Healed the many wounded at both battles of Beruna…Captained the archers at the siege of Anvard….Communed with Aslan…sailed to the edge of the world on the Dawn Treader…"
Everyone in the hall was watching me with growing awe, a reaction Edmund was clearly relishing. I was a little uncomfortable. I was never really one to boast, which was probably why he was having so much fun. As for me, I didn't quite know where to look. I tried Eustace, but his eyes were huge. Every so often he got a reminder of the other life we had lived, the one that made us more than just his cousins, and it never failed to surprise him. Therefore, watching Eustace did not help my discomfort. I looked at Caspian instead. He was sitting back in his throne, watching me intently. His dark eyes were very warm. There was a small smile on his lips, and his mouth was tight as if he were keeping himself from saying something. I met his look and pursed my lips, daring him to. His smile widened, and I wanted to laugh.
When Edmund finished his catalogue, Caspian jumped up. He was always a very eager king—he did things with alacrity and not Peter's stately gravity or Edmund's careful thought. No, Caspian was more like me.
"I cannot welcome someone who is in her own home. This castle has been yours since it was built and rebuilt, and we Narnians are all the richer for having you in it a second time."
It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to me. Caspian grinned, and his eyes sparkled as he raised his cup. "I salute you, Queen Lucy of Narnia."
Everyone echoed the toast, which made me blush again. I glanced at Edmund, who looked at me sidewise as he drank. "As if you haven't been through all this before," he muttered.
The dancing began after that. I always loved dancing dearly, and I danced happily with whoever claimed a dance. Edmund had the first turn, as was his right, and he spun me round the room in one of the ancient dances so popular when we were King and Queen. He winked at me as the Telmarine nobles murmured in appreciation. I didn't care about their reaction; I was having too good a time. The breeze from my quick steps tickled my hot cheeks and I could feel my hair fanning out behind me, my skirts twirling around me. The music was in my hears but the beat was inside my chest, pulsing out to my feet. The faces around me were a blur except for my partner's. I danced with poor leaden-footed Eustace, who couldn't abandon himself to anything, least of all dancing. I danced with Trufflehunter and Trumpkin and with the crew of the Dawn Treader, Rynelf and Rhince and Drinian. Dancing with them reminded me of dancing on the deck of the ship, reviving the songs of Old Narnia as we sailed to the Utter East, under constellations few had ever seen before. Those ancient tunes were the songs playing that night, and they were very merry, even though I missed Reepicheep's shrill humming. Or, even further back in my memory, Peter's deep, resonant voice.
I realized eventually that I was dancing more and more to new Narnian music with Telmarine Lords I did not really know. The trilling guitars required a more purposeful dance, and my partners looked into my eyes as they tried to lead me. Although this was a natural part of the dance, it was perhaps something in the look in their eyes, an appraising expression that reminded me of Edmund when he was choosing a new sword, the way he looked at it from all angles, testing its weight and giving a few practice swings. These lords were flawlessly polite, but they made me very mindful of my manners and my steps.
I was grateful when we sat down to the banquet, where I had a place between Caspian and Edmund and there were no more men steering me, only good conversation and lots of reminiscing. We regaled each other with our adventures, and everyone wanted to hear the stories for the hundredth time. We told the tale of Susan's horn and how Caspian called us back; we spoke of al lthe adventures on the Dawn Treader: the retaking of Narrowhaven, Eustace battling the sea serpent, the Monopods, the feast at Aslan's Table and the merpeople at the bottom of the sea. Then, as I did at every feast, I told the story of the Wardrobe, and the Lamp Post and the finding of Narnia. Caspian was hungry for more stories of the Golden Age and we told them gladly, Edmund and I. Edmund told of the trip to Tashbaan and the finding of the lost prince of Archenland and the siege of Anvard.
Edmund didn't often choose to tell stories, but when he did it was a treat. He could do all sorts of different voices and was excellent at imitating, so with a flick of his wrist he captured Susan, with a toss of his head he conjured up Rabadash. What's more, he had such skill with words that he could conjure up a scene almost before our eyes. When he stood with his hands on his hips wearing an echo of Corin's smile I couldn't help but wonder why he chose that tale to tell. Storytelling suddenly grew very bittersweet. I wanted these people to be more than just characters or memories; I wanted them here with us. All of them: Peter and Susan and Corin and Cor and Peridan. My longing for them grew so much I was happy when the singers took their place and I found some distraction.
Later, as the party was nearing its end, I slipped out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air. All the memories of long gone friends were still with me. I closed my eyes and let the sound of waves crashing on the shore soothe me and the dimmed sounds of the party cheer me. It had been a wonderful birthday. I would go back inside and enjoy it in a minute, I promised myself.
"Are you alright Lucy?" a gently accented voice asked behind me. He spoke so softly I wasn't startled.
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the moonlit sands. I rubbed my arms slowly. "Mmm."
I heard him step closer and then I felt the warmth of him behind me. "It is not like you to leave a party early," he observed.
I half turned to look up at Caspian, giving him a little half smile. I thought of telling him I simply needed some air or some other comment designed to deter him, but I couldn't do that to Caspian. Instead I asked, "Do you ever miss Reepicheep?"
He didn't give me an odd look or comment on the abruptness of my question, which was something I always liked about Caspian. "Of course I do," he said, his mouth in a grave line. "Every day."
"Me too," I whispered. He nodded, and then his wrapped his cloak around both of us. I leaned back against his solid chest. We stood like that for awhile in companionable silence.
"It seems to me you have a lot of people to miss in addition to Reepicheep," he murmured in my ear.
"Yes." I pulled his warm arms around me. "It's strange being sixteen again."
"That Corin in the story Edmund was telling—you knew him well."
I twisted my neck to look up at Caspian. "He was my best friend."
Something flashed through Caspian's eyes, so quick I almost though I imagined it. When he spoke, his voice was still calm, almost dreamy. "And your brother and sister—you must miss them as well."
I nodded again, thinking of Peter smiling so broadly as Edmund introduced me the first time, remembering Susan helping me into my dress and brushing my hair.
"Do you regret coming back? You could have gone home after reaching the end of the world." When I turned, Caspian's eyes were fixed on the horizon. He lowered his gaze to my face and I saw the anxiety in his expression. I couldn't believe he was nervous to hear my answer.
I turned to face him and gripped his forearm "This is my home," I told him. "And if I had left, I wouldn't be any better off. I'd be missing you instead."
A slow grin spread across his face. "As I would miss you." He studied me a moment, the smile still on his lips. Then he jerked his head towards the beach. "Come. Perhaps it is time to make new memories instead of dreaming in old ones."
He drew me forward by the hand. I followed him willingly down to the silver beach. We kicked off our shoes and I shed a layer or two of petticoats. We played with the freezing waves, laughing. Then he caught me in his arms and we started dancing, falling into step naturally. Between giggles he hummed under his breath. I joined in , and we moved in graceful circles, the sand sticking between our toes. When I looked back, the sweep of my skirts made swirling patterns in the sand. The night was cold as it was only the first night of spring, but Caspian was warm.
When our toes were frozen we picked up our shoes and ran inside. We tucked ourselves before a fire and the servants shook their heads in bemusement as they brought us hot chocolate. I didn't care. I had Caspian to understand me, and that was enough. He could erase all the strange looks from men I didn't know, ease all my nostalgia. I looked up at him as we curled up together and felt a rush of happiness. Who else but Caspian would dance on the beach with me? He was so dear. I could never regret my decision to come back to the Dawn Treader from the end of the world.
