All right, here we go.
It's the first chapter of Prince Caspian: Suspian Remix
Now this is my first fan fiction, but I've been sitting on this for a while, and I'm eager to find out what everyone thinks of it
Enjoy! (I hope)
Disclaimer: If I owned the rights to the series, don't you think I would have put all of this in the actual movie? Would've been nice
Prince Caspian was a man who had always accorded the utmost importance to his dreams.
Most Telmarines thought that dreams were useless, fantasies that the mind created to amuse itself at night. In fact, it had been centuries since anyone had really considered his or her dreams important.
It had been thirteen centuries since anyone had cared, to be more precise.
But His Highness always cared about his dreams. Sometimes, aspects of them came true. He'd once dreamt about a herd of horses, soon after his fourteenth birthday. The next day, he'd received Destrier, his beautiful black stallion. When he was six years old, he'd dreamed that his father was far away, and there was no way for the little boy to reach him. A week later, he received the news that his father had died suddenly in his sleep.
Yes, Caspian often had dreams that fulfilled themselves, in good ways or in bad ways, and so he paid great attention to them, wondering which parts would be realized soon enough, which parts would come true.
And he fiercely hoped that this dream in particular would come true…
He was in a forest. All around trees were swaying to the breeze, almost as if they were dancing.
There was an aura of total peace surrounding him. There was laughter and joy enveloping everything.
Flower petals were blowing in the wind, shaping into the forms of women, pausing to smile and wave at him.
Mythical creatures were visible in the distance. Dwarves and Minotaurs. Was that a centaur? He'd only ever heard about such Creatures from his professor's tales. Old Narnians, that's what they were. But they were extinct. And yet they were here, strolling around casually, completely at ease, as if they belonged there, as if this was their home, and always had been.
Birds were whispering amongst themselves and to other creatures, in a language he could have understood with no trouble, if he had been paying attention.
But he wasn't paying attention. Not at all. The only thing he could concentrate was the woman in front of him. She was the most incredible lady he had ever seen.
Her hair was deep brown and glossy, and he was sure that if he touched it, it would be softer and smoother than the finest of silks. Oh, how he longed to touch it. The desire made him ache.
Her skin was pale, delicate. But the setting sun gave it a golden glow, as if she was an angel, and looking at her perfect face, he was positive that she was. There was no other explanation for her smooth skin, her plump lips, and her curvy frame. Mere humans couldn't possibly have traits so ideal, so flawless… What other explanation was there for those eyes?
Oh, her eyes… They were so wonderful it almost hurt to look at them. Born and raised amongst the Telmarines, where everyone had eyes of a deep brown, he'd never seen eyes of a different colour than that; he had never seen any like hers.
They were blue; bluer than he'd known was even possible. It was as if the sky had fallen into the girl's eyes and clung to them, held on for dear life. He felt as if he could simply look at her forever, and that would be perfectly fine with him. He would completely satisfied observing her face until he died, for no death could be unpleasant if he was permitted to look at her while it happened.
She moved in closer, placing her hand on his cheek. She was so soft ad so warm. He placed his own hand over hers, revelling in the sensation. It felt perfect. Her hand fit so well when he held it in his own. He didn't ever want to let it go. He didn't ever want to let her go. The thought upset him. It hurt him physically to think of her not touching him.
She smiled at him – a beautiful smile, of course – and began to speak:
"Caspian…"
He cherished the way she said his name. It sounded so perfect coming from her mouth. Her accent was so strange, completely foreign to him. But like everything else about her, it was just right.
"Caspian," she repeated, and he wished she'd say it again, whisper his name one more.
"Soon," the lady promised, adoration in her eyes.
What was soon? He opened his mouth to inquire. He hoped that she meant that soon she would repeat his name in that melodious voice of hers. He lived for her voice. He would do anything she asked of him, if she used that voice.
But before he could ask what she meant, she darted towards him and slammed her hand over his mouth.
He jumped when he realised that someone was actually covering his mouth. His eyes flew open, only to be greeted by the sight of Professor Cornelius. It was dark out, so he probably wanted to take him stargazing. But not right now.
"Five more minutes," he requested, rolling over. He wanted to get back into his dream, and ask the lady what she meant. Soon…
But his professor did not allow him to do so. He started shaking him awake, with panic in his eyes and terror in his voice.
"You won't be watching the stars tonight, my prince."
Well, then what reason could have possessed his tutor to rouse him at this ungodly hour? And why did he sound so absolutely terrified? He wanted to slip back into the dream, if only to look at the woman. But Professor Cornelius always had a good reason for doing things. What could it be this time?
His confusion and irritation must have shown on his face, because the older man quickly added on:
"Come. We must hurry." Cornelius was strong for his age and pulled him out of bed.
"Professor, what is going on?" Caspian demanded, unable to hide he tremor in his voice.
"Your aunt has given birth. To a son."
It would seem the Professor had an excellent reason to wake him up.
He knew Miraz wanted his throne. But rumours had said that Prunasprismia, Miraz's wife, had been incapable of producing a child. Her last three had died. So Caspian had reassured himself that he would be safe, since Miraz had no one but Caspian to take the throne when he died.
That was no longer the case.
Caspian hopped out of bed, allowing his tutor and closest friend lead him toward his hidden passageway, but not before drawing the curtains on his bed. He wondered briefly about his reason to do that, but put it out of his mind. He had other things to concern himself with.
He heard his door creak open. He froze, trying to catch a glimpse of the unwelcome visitor. But it was more than just one visitor.
He could see General Glozelle amongst the line of soldiers creeping into the room. Glozelle had always been nothing but kind to him. He was one of the only two men that Caspian trusted. The other man he trusted was currently trying to drag the young prince along, to prevent him from seeing what would surely be a terrible sight.
But Caspian could only watch, terrified, as the men made a ring around his bed. They raised their weapons – they were armed; that was surely a bad sign – and then looked at Glozelle. He gave the signal.
They fired.
Caspian realised he was shaking as he watched them. The arrows came over and over, striking his bed. They thought he was in his bed. They were trying to kill him. To destroy him while he was defenceless, without giving him so much as a chance to fight back.
As feathers floated through the air, emerging from the ruined bed, the soldiers clearly realised that he was not there. There was not a drop blood on the bed, let alone the helpless prince's corpse. They looked to each other, wondering what to do. Caspian knew that any second now, they would start looking for him. He allowed Professor Cornelius to lead him away. He needed to escape before it was too late.
He headed for the armoury, constantly checking over his shoulder for any sign of the enemy. He grabbed a studded jerkin and a sword. There was no time for anything more. His tutor threw a cloak over his shoulders.
They raced to the stables, and he got onto the first horse he saw. He could not saddle Destrier quickly enough, and so he had to leave him behind, albeit reluctantly. He did not trust any other horse as much as he trusted Destrier. He was the fastest, strongest horse in the stable, and Caspian had always felt as if Destrier could read his mind.
There was fear in the old man's eyes as he advised the young man.
"You must make for the woods."
"The woods?" Caspian was confused. No one ever went into the woods. It was mostly superstition, fear of the Narnians that had once called the forest home. Many realised such things were crazy, that these fearsome things were extinct, and had been for a long time, but no one dared to enter, just in case. Telmarines were not generally superstitious, but they did worry about the spirits of their victims.
"They won't follow you there." But while Caspian could think of many places where he would not be followed, he did not realise just how important his destination was. He bit back his retort, aware that this was not the time to argue.
As Caspian mounted the horse he did not know, the professor rapidly fumbled for something. The young prince took a look. It was an ivory horn, with a roaring lion carved into the end. He could not remember where he'd seen it. But it was clearly of great importance.
"It has taken me many years to find this. Do not use it except at your greatest need."
This time, Caspian understood the danger that lay behind his friend's words. He knew there was a good chance that he would die tonight.
"Will I ever see you again?" he asked quietly. Almost resigned to his fate. That was bad.
"I dearly hope so, my Prince. There is so much more I'm meant to teach you." The professor grabbed his arm, willing him to understand what would happen. "Everything you know is about to change."
A man's scream distracted them, and then Caspian was off. He rushed through the courtyard, where soldiers tried desperately to block him. But nothing could stop him. As he hurried across the drawbridge, fireworks exploded, celebrating the birth of Miraz's son. But he was not celebrating, as he saw several soldiers racing to him.
Caspian raced across the land. The wind whipped through his hair, burned his eyes, and made his cloak billow out behind him. In the past, he had loved such things. He would race his horse at full speed, adrenaline pumping. Races had exhilarated him. But he knew that after this – if there was an after, if his life did not end this very night – he would never be able to race again without remembering this frightful experience.
As he reached the river, he was met with a dilemma. He had never been here before, and did not know how deep the river was. It was entirely likely that if he tried to cross, he would not be able to make it all the way across. But as he heard the soldiers approaching, even closer now than before, he made a decision.
He spurred his horse, and stampeded into the water. It was a rather shallow river, but he couldn't help but feel nervous as the water rose higher than his waist. His horse threw his head back, trying to keep it out of the water. But in the end, he made it across to the other side.
Sparing a glance back at all of the men who were chasing him, Caspian saw several of them falling over in the water. He couldn't help but smile smugly at their unsuccessful attempt to cross the expanse, but did not slow down. They would succeed eventually, and he wanted as much distance between them as possible.
It was then that Caspian reached the woods.
Fear shot through him. Was he truly safe here? Or was Professor Cornelius mistaken? Was this forest more dangerous than even the soldiers? Well, this was not the time to start doubting his only ally's advice. The professor would never willingly lead him to danger. Of course, he had thought the same of Glozelle, and now look at him. Glozelle was the one leading these crazy men.
Let my ancestors' wisdom guide me, he thought to himself. The woods were dangerous, but if he stayed in place, he would surely be killed. The woods it is.
He raced ahead, the trees looking like nothing more than dark blurs. He shot a look over his shoulder, praying frantically that the men had not yet been successful in their attempt to cross the river. He could not quite see them. He stared harder, and was so wrapped up in trying to see them that he did not notice the low-hanging tree branch directly in front of him.
Caspian turned his head around just in time to see it, before it collided with his face with enough impact to knock him off of his horse. He was silently grateful no one had seen that. Or he would've been, had he been able to concentrate on anything but the pain that came to him. He lay on the ground for a moment, in agony. And then he realised his horse had not stopped moving.
That damned creature dragged him along. He could feel the ground beneath him, burning his back, adding to his already considerable amount of pain. He tried frantically to remove his foot from the stirrup, but his exhaustion made it seem like an insurmountable task. As he finally yanked his foot, he prayed desperately once more, this time for the pain to go away.
But it didn't. So he raised his head to gain some degree of awareness of his surroundings, despite the screaming protest his body issued at the simple action.
Caspian could only see vaguely. The trees hid most of the moon, and his vision was spotted from the blow to his head. His hearing, much less impaired than his sight, told him that his horse had run away. But his eyes could barely make out the vision of a column of smoke. Was something on fire? No, there was a chimney. A chimney? In the woods? He peered closer. Did he spy a house? Yes. But what was coming out of the house was much more important.
He could make out two men. They seemed very small, but he assumed that they must be far away. But his musings at the pair's size flew out of his head as he noticed that one of them had pulled out a knife. The man ran towards him, and Caspian estimated the distance between himself and his sword. He couldn't reach it before the man – who he was now absolutely positive was very small – would reach him. But he did have something closer that might be of service.
Caspian looked at his horn, and the little man with the knife followed his gaze. Why did his latest assailant's eyes widen so much as he looked between the young man and the horn?
What is it about that horn? What makes it so special?
Well, whatever it was, it would seem he owed the horn his life, because the little man paused, as if debating what to do with this new development.
And then the Telmarines arrived.
The short man had obviously deemed him the lesser of two evils, because he did not finish him off first. Instead he called out to his companion.
"You take care o' him," he instructed, and Caspian's blood chilled. Take care, as in kill? The man raced off towards the soldiers.
But Caspian did not feel relief, because the little man's equally little companion was now running towards him. Caspian thought of his professor's words about the ivory horn: "Use it only at your greatest need."
I have soldiers trying to kill me, a small thing trying to kill me, no horse, and my sword is out of reach. This qualifies as great need.
He lunged for the horn, frantic to get help. The short man lunged for him, furiously trying to stop him.
"No!" the little one cried out.
But Caspian didn't stop. He brought the horn to his lips, and blew with all the strength he had. But no one came. Damn. He had expected, rather foolishly, for immediate aid. Instead, he got a swift blow to the head from the little man.
The pain was more than he could handle, but his body struggled for consciousness. He let his eyes shut for a fraction of a second, and the beautiful woman he had dreamed about appeared behind his eyelids. She beckoned him towards her, her eyes kind and her smile inviting.
"Don't be scared, Caspian. Come join me."
Caspian remembered his earlier thought. He was sure that his death would be much more tolerable, so long as he was looking at her while it happened. He still believed that unconditionally. So he gave up the fight to stay awake, and allowed himself to join the woman in the realm of unconsciousness.
So, that's the first chapter.
Right now, it's basically the same, with just Caspian's thought process altered.
But pretty soon, there will some editing to the story, to make room for some Suspian fluff.
It's pretty short right now, but I'm still sticking to the story. Once I start to change the story, I can make it as long as I want! Plus, finger cramps!
Please review. I'll love you forever! Or at least until the next chapter, where you'll have to review again to win back my love.