Disclaimer: I own nothing from Narnia, it all belongs to C. S. Lewis and whoever owns the movies now.

Author's Note: So this is my first attempt at this fandom though I've been reading here for a long time now. I, like many of you, thought that the Susan/Caspian pairing was a lovely yet bittersweet romance that is just too good to leave hanging as it was. I am really anticipating the new film but I must say that after the second I can't make myself like the whole star's daughter thing, Susan I believe is much better choice if given it. And yes- to all the purists I have read the books but I consider the movies to be another universe of the same basic idea so I separate them in my mind, so I might mess with the time lines a bit to suit my purposes. I just happen to have liked Susan from the time I first discovered her at the tender age of 6 and couldn't stand what Lewis did to her- so please no flames on the subject. So here is part one of my own twist on the story, during which I put poor Susan through the ringer in order to give her the happy ending she and Caspian deserve. Please, read, (hopefully) enjoy and if you want to be really nice drop me in a line.

Coming back to England did not feel like the warm, blessed homecoming that Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie had gushed about the entire crossing over the Atlantic. For their daughter the sight of the foggy port on London's passenger dock was something out of a nightmare more then anything else. As long as she was an ocean away from her homeland her mind was clear and untroubled, her pain as far off as the city she called home. But as the cruise ship was pulled in by tug and tied down with huge anchors and thick tag lines Susan found herself a little scared to set one foot off the floating hotel. As she pulled on her new designer coat, a memento from her time in New York City, she felt a chill that had nothing to do with typical English weather.

When she and her parents made their way off the ship she plastered a practiced smile on her beautiful face. This was the smile the world saw, a lovely young woman with shining eyes and ruby lips. No one ever noticed how forced her happy face truly was, but perhaps that was because at times even she made herself believe it was real.

When her father hailed a cab and the three of them piled in she pretended to relish the familiar sights as they sped by. But London was a cold, concrete labyrinth of dirty streets and smoke spewing automobiles. Shots of green were carefully planned by city engineers, a few large parks meant for tourists to gawk at and strategically planted trees were used for sidewalk decoration to aesthetically appease locals.

When at last their home came into view the chill that had been creeping in her veins had at last made it to her heart. Three smiling faces greeted them, her beloved siblings ran out the front and all took turns embracing her. These three were her world, those who knew her best and yet she more then willingly had shut them out.

Susan sat sipping tea late that night, alone in the dark kitchen with only the dim stove top light to illuminate the room. Her thoughts were so scattered a hurricane would have left a more tidy space behind. How long had it been since she had last seen her home? Not the one she so glumly sat in now, no this place was her house…the place of her childhood but had ceased to be her home a long time ago. The place she considered her true home she had not seen in nearly a year, and yet it felt more like centuries to her heavy heart, Home was green from the edge of the mountains to the shore of the sea, not a block of highway in sight. Home was a place dotted with fine castles with colorful banners catching in the breeze, not an urban metropolis of tightly packed skyscrapers. She brought the porcelain cup to her lips, barely noticing how her drink had long since gone cold.

In a way she hated herself for being so miserable. She was the logical one, she was the one who thought everything through with an almost scientific way of handling any situation. This was not how she was supposed to be. But she also hated herself for what she had become. Never in her long life, and she had lived a long life if one truly knew her story, had she ever spent so much perfecting her appearance. Expensive clothes filled her closets, drawers of make up and fine jewelry nearly overflowed from her vanity and fashion magazines were piled in the corners of her room. Her brothers and sister said they barely recognized her anymore, they scolded her on paying so much attention on what fancy parties she was invited to or how close she looked to some new movie starlet. In truth she did not care about those things, she knew her looks were almost unparalleled without even the barest hint of make up. In her mind she knew that fashion was a trivial thing that more often then not was an uncomfortable nuisance rather then a pleasant covering. All these things she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.

So then why did she succumb so easily to them?

She succumbed to them because she was lonely, because she was heartbroken, because she felt abandoned by the one she thought should have been watching over her.

Susan Pevensie was not always just an ordinary girl from Finchley, though at times she sometimes wished she was. In another time, another place she was Susan the Gentle, Susan of the Radiant Southern Sun, Queen of Narnia. She was the greatest archer in the kingdom, considered the beautiful woman in all the empires of the world. At one time not so long ago she ruled a magical land with her siblings and they were happy. Though they forgot their first home in England they were not really any worse for it, they ruled what would later be considered a Golden Age. And then they were sent away, aged from fully grown adults back to their adolescent selves. It had cut them all to the core, they missed their home at Cair Paravel, they missed their friends the talking animals and the mythical beasts. And she had been the first to try and adjust to this change, ever the logical sister trying to hide her pain by putting up the façade of deep thought and calculation. The second time they found Narnia over a millennia had passed and all they had known, all they had loved was dust and half forgotten legends. This too had hurt them but none, especially Susan, let on just how much. Not many people will experience the utter anguish of living a lifetime, of living a full and loving existence then having it cruelly ripped from them only to return to find that all those who they had befriended were long in their graves and home was now a pile of toppled rocks. They had been called back to save Narnia from a tyrannical ruler whose nephew was the true heir to the throne.

And here was where Susan made her biggest mistake and most cherished memory. She pushed the empty teacup away from her, stood and walked out the rear door and into their tiny back yard. The stars were clear and glittering like a million diamonds on a black velvet backdrop, not a cloud was in the sky. For years gazing at the stars had always brought her a sense of peace when her mind was troubled, she had been doing this for years since she was a child. But tonight the glared up at them as though they were the hoards of the White Witch herself. Earlier after dinner Peter, Edmund and Lucy had tried once again to convince her that Narnia was not just a game they made up as children but a place as real as the one they were in now. In her now normal fashion she called them day dreamers and gullible fools, all the while weeping inside with thought of home.

By pretending not to remember or believe she shielded herself from being hurt again.

By pushing her family away the happy memories were kept at bay and painful ones furthest from her mind.

By immersing herself in modern life she would not dwell on Narnia…she would not dwell on him.

But Edmund and Lucy had more then just their usual chatter like therapy in mind. She had had to keep herself from making a scene when they dropped the news to Peter and she that they had been to Narnia once again. To add to their tale it seemed that not only they but their cousin Eustace, whom none of them had ever even liked, had gone along too and come out the better for it. In her mind she had been both anticipating and dreading every word that spilled from their lips. How much time had passed? Had there been another war? Who was on the throne? Had they seen him?

To answer her unspoken questions only three years had passed, there had not been another war but a voyage to be taken instead, the same King still ruled and they had traveled across the seas with him. As the younger two told their story a far away look had seeped into their older brother's eyes, all three saw it. But Susan kept her face and bright eyes a mask of near indifference, acting like she was only listening to school children talk about their newest game of make believe. But towards the end even she knew her mask couldn't possibly last much longer and it was for that reason that she was looking so murderously up at the stars this night.

A star, no not even a real star but only the off spring of a mere fallen star had come in and seemingly taken her place with a bat of her pretty silver lashes. Susan had left the room before Lucy could finish gushing about how stunning this Lilliandil supposedly was. There was no doubt in her mind that all three of her siblings had figured out that her cold, self absorbed shell was indeed just that- a shell. But she couldn't help it, her heart had already been broken to tiny pieces now it had been crushed into naught but dust. They had tried to call her back, tried to make her unlock her bedroom door but she steadfastly refused. Only now when the whole of the house was deeply asleep did she dare venture out. Just as before she had never been so narcissistic she had never been so jealous or hateful in her life. Just who was this star's daughter who appeared from seemingly nowhere? What could she possibly do that would make her an acceptable Queen? Susan found her feet taking her in circles around the tiny yard but did nothing to stop herself, she continued her mindless trek with her hands curled into fists at her sides.

She was sure this slip of a shining being could not command armies or run head long into a charge of mounted Telmarines with only a bow at her disposal.

She was sure this glittering damsel in distress had no idea how to negotiate peace treaties with foreign dignitaries hell bent on taking her country for their own.

And she was doubly sure this…this…temptress had any idea just what the King of Narnia had promised to herself as they stood before the portal between worlds.

Susan let her tired legs collapse from under her, the silky white robe her wore fluttered around her like some diaphanous cloud. And she was tired, so very tired. She was tired of pretending to be some fashion obsessed chit that she was not, she was tired of pretending that the best thing that ever happened to her was a child's game of fantasy. But mostly she was tired of being logical. It seemed a strange thing to be thinking when she had just been angrily putting down her rival in love but it was the truth. Logic was her longest companion, her greatest asset and hardest shield. It was what protected her from the rest of the world, as long as she could think things through with a clear head then nothing could block her way. Even now as the pathetic remains of her heart cried out logic tried to tell her that time goes on, that it had been years in the other world and not even one here. Her brain told her that she knew better, she was royalty too and knew that eventually a King needed a Queen and an heir. Had the incident with Rabadash not taught her enough? Had it not been clear through the words of Aslan himself that she was not meant to return? No it wasn't enough, not anymore. For that first time Susan the Gentle didn't want to be the kind hearted woman of epic tales and poems. She wanted to be selfish for once, she wanted to fight for the man she had grown to love, she wanted her own happily ever after.

"Caspian," her voice was not the musical tone for which everyone complimented her. Her voice was choked with newly forming tears. Her siblings never knew just how much time she and the then Prince had truly spent together during their last venture to Narnia. In the weeks leading up the battles she had practiced archery with him, teaching him her techniques and watching him improve with every lesson. They had taken long walks during the nights, through the woods where prying eyes could not find them. Their conversations were filled with memories of the Golden Age, her birthplace in England, his beloved deceased parents and his plans for the future. There was much they had in common, from what tales and sonnets they liked to read and how they felt freest when out hunting. After his coronation they had danced in the hall of the Telmarine castle, oblivious to the chatter and stares of everyone else. They shared their first kiss that night in his mother's garden, it was the first time she pushed her beloved logic to the side and let herself simply feel. When they looked into one another's eyes for the last time in the courtyard and held one another close he had whispered the most precious words she had ever heard.

"No matter where you go, you'll always be in my heart," and then he had let her go.

She was sobbing now, loud, pain filled sobs that echoed in the empty night. It just wasn't fair! What sort of lesson was she supposed to learn from outright heartbreak? How could Aslan have let her meet the man of her dreams and then taken him so quickly away from her? At the time she had steeled her heart from the hurt, had tried to make light of the situation by joking about her true age but Caspian knew her too well to be fooled by that though he put on a good face for the crowd. Her thoughts sounded much like Peter's word just before they had been returned to Narnia. What she had once thought of as melancholy emotions now seemed clear as day to her and she regretted ever putting her older brother down for feeling this way.

Susan was sure she was having a complete nervous breakdown; her emotions were running rampant from anger to despair and love to utmost hate. She didn't know how to think or what to feel but there was one thing she did know-that the precious logic that so formed her character and decisions for her entire life had no place here. There was no logic in this, no way to clearly think out a solution when the world you adore is so far out of your reach that not even the fastest of trains nor most advanced planes could ever get you there. Logic could not bring the love of her life out of the arms of another woman and back into her own. But without that utmost important trait of hers what did she have left? So long had she depended on her swift, to the point way of thinking that now with it gone she felt so totally lost…she just did not know what to do.

Her fists pounded into the cold ground, her tears dripping off her checks like tiny waterfalls to soak the frigid earth. The low, kneeing sound that escaped her lips was one of absolute and utter despair, the sound her soul dying inside her. Lying on the ground was not Susan Pevensie, prettiest girl in Finchley, nor was she the Archer Queen that the old tales glorified in prose. She was just Susan, a broken, lonely and torn young woman without a single creature to whisper her sorrows to. How long she stayed outside in cold autumn night she had no clue nor did she care. When she cried all her tears her eyes were red and puffy and dry from the wind. When her sobs finally dyed down it was because her throat was too sore to form them anymore. She lay on her back, staring unseeing up at the stars which used to bring her peace yet now she felt nothing at all, she was numb to everything.

"Aslan," her aching voice managed to speak the great lion's name. Why her shattered mind chose his of all names to say she did not know but for some reason it seemed the right thing to do. One cannot imagine her surprise when someone actually answered her.

"My dear daughter, what has become of you?"

She turned her gaze to her right and felt her eyes widen at the sight of the huge cat sitting there, his amber eyes filled with a pain just for her. On trembling arms she pulled herself up, with shaking legs she walked slowly the few feet that separated them only to fall back to her knees before him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Dry sobs heaved her chest up and down but she had no more tears to weep into his soft mane.

"Oh Aslan…I don't know what to do….it hurts so much," she choked out.

"I know, child, I know," he gently rubbed his muzzle against her shoulder in an act of comfort.

"…..Why?" her single word question was drawn out in a long moan of despair but still it seemed he knew exactly what it was she was asking.

"To tell you the truth I do truly not know anymore," his reply was unexpected. Aslan always had a definite answer, he knew all that was and all that will be. She looked up at him, her sad face now troubled with confusion. "It seems that even I can make mistakes, but I suppose that is part of living life that counts even if one is immortal."

"Mistakes? How?"

"You and Peter had indeed learned much while you were in Narnia last but you Susan brought more back with you then I had anticipated," she listened to him, hanging onto his every word like a life line. "I had thought you and King Caspian teach one another caring and together learn how to let go once the time came but not once did I think your feelings would grow so strong."

"But they did," her voice was still hoarse and she saw how the lion winced as he heard the state her poor self was in.

"They did and now because of my decision you are suffering in a way I would not wish on anyone," he looked down at the young woman pity and pleading mixed in his eyes.

"Can you make the hurting stop?" she just wanted the pain to go away, she didn't want to hurt anymore.

"Poor Susan, I cannot take the pain away as one can simply take an object and place it somewhere else."

"Is there nothing you can do? I cannot live like this anymore!" Susan dropped her arms from around his neck let her head bow, her last words a whisper on the wind only he could hear.

"…There is something I can do but I cannot guarantee your pain will disappear." Her head shot up like lightening, the expression on her face slowly changing from pure agony to a very fragile hope with a sliver of her old determination just beneath the surface.

"I'll take whatever chance you give me, please I'll do anything it takes."

"My strong girl, I knew you were in there somewhere," a small smile came over his feline features. "What I can give you is a chance but once given you will have to be the one to make the most of it and you will not have much time."

"A chance to what?"

"To have your happily ever after," the lion gave her a full, warm smile and waited for her answer.

"I can go back, back home to Narnia?" he nodded. "But Lucy said that…that Caspian was…" she could not bring herself to say the words aloud that the man she pined her was to be married.

"All royal marriages in Narnia have to be given my blessing before they can occur, I have yet to bestow it upon this one. So what say you, Queen Susan, will you take this chance?" she did not have to be asked twice.

"I will."

"Then good luck, my daughter, and remember time is short," with a roar as loud as a clap of thunder the world around her melted away. She shut her eyes tight as a wind with the force of gale swirled around her for but a moment and when it was gone and she could see again England was long gone. It was still night but only the final vestiges of it, to the east the sun was just beginning to peak in a glorious display that only could happen in one place. Susan hurried to her feet, a huge smile covering her previously sad features as she took in the forest around her and started to laugh and spin around in circles like a child.

"I'm back," she said to herself when she came to a dizzying stop. "I'm home!" she shouted to the trees.

"Whose making all that racket?" a gruff voice sounded from beyond some bushes.

Susan turned around, wishing for her bow but only felt her grin grow larger when she saw just who had stumbled upon her.

"Trumpkin!"

"Queen Susan?" the startled dwarf seemed to be out on an early morning hunt judging by the game he had slung over his shoulder.

"Dear Little Friend," she laughed again and kneeled down to hug the squirming little man. Some things never changed, Trumpkin only ever allowed himself to be hugged under the most extreme of circumstances.

"How are you back? Everyone heard Aslan say you weren't ever coming back," he was happy to see her that was true but he was also obviously very confused.

"He came to me and gave me a second chance, but it's a long story," she was interrupted by an unexpected yawn. Susan realized that she had not slept a wink the previous night and her body was reminding her of this.

"Sound tired, You Majesty."

"Yes," she yawned again, "I suppose I am."

"Cair Paravel isn't far, I was going there myself, you need rest," he began to lead the way out of the forest.

"Cair Paravel? But wasn't it…"

"Ruins? Yeah it was, but it's been three years since your last visit. The King ordered it rebuilt right after you four left."

Susan did not think anything could have made her any more happy then she already was but hearing that her beloved home was again standing where it once had been rubble made a warm feeling rush through her. As she was so tired they did not talk very much on their way save for simple small bits and pieces that only friends could be content with. The sun rose higher and higher in the sky the longer they walked, warming her skin from the cold of England. When at last Cair Paravel came into view she thought she could cry.

The magnificent palace stood atop it's cliff top perch looking just as it had the day she last saw it as she climbed atop her horse that fateful day. It's high white marble towers topped with crystal domes glistened in the early morning light, the glass ceiling of the throne room a beacon for miles away. Truly this must be the most beautiful palace in this or any other world, she was sure of it. The closer they came she noticed no standards waved from the flag poles, no tapestries hung from the balconies, no monarch was at home right now. This was quickly changed the moment the guards at the gate spotted her, the two fauns pulled out their trumpets and the soon the whole complex knew of her return. Susan was greeted by Glenstorm who had been left in charge of the castle while the King was away.

"Your Majesty," the centaur bowed low. "Welcome to Cair Paravel."

"General, it's good to be home, thank you." Though she was dead tired there was no excuse to not observe the rules of etiquette, fifteen years of ruling had instilled that in her.

"It is a wonderful surprise that you have returned to us," he offered her his arm which she took despite the massive difference in height.

"Aslan works in mysterious ways," she smiled and allowed him to guide her inside. Trumpkin had hurried off to the kitchens to clean his catch with the promise of getting back to her when she was rested. As she walked through the court yard she noticed a distinct splash of color now adorning the pure white walls. From the highest tower a pennant blew in the wind, it was repeated on the balconies and from the flag poles that were vacant not five minuets ago. The flags were a beautiful purple edged in gold vines with a burning sun in the center, her own coat of arms.

"I see you've noticed them," Glenstorm smiled a knowing smile to which she only nodded. "King Caspian had all four coats of arms remade along with the full standard in case our Kings and Queens of Old ever returned." Again she only nodded, a mixture of her sleepy self and shock. So, Caspian had anticipated they would come back? He had known that Edmund and Lucy would be because Aslan had had said so last time, but to have all four pennants remade meant he had hoped she and Peter would as well. She could not help the girlish grin that lit up her face at that, it did not go missed by the centaur at her side either which only made her stare at the floor for fear of being caught blushing. She was lead to a very familiar wing of the palace, it was like nothing had changed. Glenstorm told her the plans of the castle had been found in the treasury below the ground and so it had been rebuilt with very few changes to the original design. When she found herself in her own bedroom a single tear trailed down her cheek, it felt good to be home. She fell onto her bed with a very un-Queen like flop and was asleep in seconds.

It was several hours later when Susan awoke, the sun high in the noon day sky. She stretched, well rested from the first decent sleep she had had in almost a year. With a lazy, happy gaze she looked around her room, it was as though she had never left. White walls with gold trim were the base like every other room in the palace, splashes of blues and purples added her own taste to the space along with tapestries of her favorite hunts and mythical scenes. She had her own bathing room off to one side, a sitting room that exited onto a wide patio styled balcony to another. The bed she lay on was huge, it could fit four of her shoulder to shoulder and was bordered by thick tree like posters with deep purple curtains which were currently tied back along the wall. A fireplace was directly parallel to the bed on the opposite wall, a large golden framed mirror hung over it. Her reflection though was not so pretty as the gorgeous room around her.

Her hair was standing out in every which way from laying on it the wrong way, her eyes might not have been red anymore but they still had dark circles under them. The white night gown she wore was stained with mud and grass from hours in her back yard. No, not a pretty sight. This she at least partially remedied by taking a long, hot bath which was drawn by two lady fauns the moment she popped her head out the hallway door. The scents of vanilla and lavender permeated the room, she did not ask how her favorite oils and shampoos were already fully stocked and ready for her use. Nor did she wonder how several of her old gowns were already hanging in the armoire, though they did need to be dusted off when she pulled them out. Susan looked them over, they must have been placed here some time ago to have gathered the thin layer of dust which in all honesty should have been much worse but someone had obviously brushed them off periodically. In the end she chose a goldenrod colored gown that bared her pale shoulders, ended in bell sleeves and opened in the front to reveal a white underskirt. The design was simple with very little embroidery, so much more her true taste and the exact reverse of the complex clothing she had been sporting in England. With her hair brushed out to fall in smooth, thick waves and left loose she deemed herself ready.

The halls were filled with both Narnians and Telmarines carrying what looked like the makings of a banquet. She was met with a mixture of warm welcomes and confused ones as she made her way to the main hall. By the time she pushed her way into the throne room the most of the crowd had dissipated. Susan looked around, the tall columns she remembered walking through on her coronation day stood as tall and proud as she remembered. The glass ceiling let in the brilliant sunlight that illuminated the five marble thrones atop the dais at the far end of the hall.

To the left were Edmund's throne, then Peter's and to the far right were her own and Lucy's. But it was the new space between them that caught her eye, a new throne sat there, one with a slightly different design then the other four. It was black veined marble instead of pure white, with gothic like spires coming from the back. It looked to be a melding of Narnian and Telmarine and she knew who sat here.

With slightly trembling fingers she traced the icon at the top of the crest. Where Edmund had a trident, Peter a sword, Lucy her cordial and she her horn Caspian had a ship. This must be the famous Dawn Treader her siblings spoke of, though it was hard for her to imagine a Telmarine as a sailor. The longer she studied the new throne the more nervous she became, and Susan could count the number of times she had been this nervous in her whole life on one hand.

There was the first time they had come to Narnia and while she does admit her wonder at the whole situation she had been so far out of her element that inside she was actually a complete nervous wreck.

There was the second time when Rabadash had come to court her and instead it ended up in a near war that had only just been avoided while she narrowly escaped a forced marriage to a vicious man.

Then there was the final time just before she and Caspian had shared their first kiss, though she had kissed a few times before this time she swore she felt the sparks and saw the fireworks.

This time though trumped them all. Here she was back in a world she thought she would never see again to win back the man she adored from a woman she had never met. Pesky logic was again trying to wheedle it's way into her strain of thought, she squashed it like a bug beneath her shoe or an enemy under the aim of her bow.

Yes she was nervous, but that was to be expected

Yes she was scared that she might face rejection, but a chance was a chance.

Aslan had decided he made a…miscalculation separating Caspian and herself, and she had agreed to take this chance to make things right no matter the consequences. Susan was going to be spontaneous for the first time in her life, if her siblings could see her now they would think she was crazy. But she realized, she did not care because she realized people do crazy things when they're in love.

With a new found resolve she stood a little straighter and went to walk out of the hall then the sound of trumpets halted her steps. The King had returned.