Disclaimer: I don't own anybody.
For Drishti (Skandar-Loves-Redvines), who requested a Susan/Caspian with the prompts 'dance', 'glade', and 'hefty', and who is the coolest PJO/HOO twin ever (okay, she's the only PJO/HOO twin ever, but winning by default is still winning!) Hope you like this! :D
Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia.
Sometimes, she feels like screaming. Having a brother nicknamed 'the Just' makes one rather sensitive to justice. And as far as Susan can see, there is no justice in being thrown unceremoniously out of her kingdom, her sanctuary, her home, by the same person – oh, sorry, Lion who brought her here in the first place.
She closes her eyes and brings her knees up under her chin so she can press her head into the aquamarine satin of her dress and try not to cry.
Up above her, sunlight streams over the beautiful clearing she's claimed as her haven from the drama and glamour of Cair Paravel. The glade is a gorgeous part of nature, with the lakewater bright blue under the golden sunshine and the trees rustling their green leaves and flowers shooting up colorful little buds all around her.
But then, it's Narnia. Everything is beautiful here, except perhaps crying Queens.
"Susan?" interrupts a familiar deep voice from behind her. "Are you in here?"
She turns around, quickly wiping any sign of tears away from her dark eyes, to find herself looking at the soon-to-be King of Narnia, Caspian himself. "Oh, hello, Caspian."
"Hello," Caspian says, wandering closer towards her and taking great care not to step on any of the flowers. "What are you doing here, Susan? Lucy's looking for you – she needs your help with her outfit for the coronation."
Susan smiles slightly. "Your coronation, you mean?"
Caspian flushes. "Well, yes, but I – um, that's not what this conversation is about."
"Then what is it about?"
"You're avoiding my question."
It's considerably easier to win a stare-down, Susan muses, when your opponent clearly thinks the world of you, even when he's trying to act high and mighty.
Caspian looks away first. "What are you doing here?"
"It's a beautiful place," she answers, knowing she's still avoiding the question, but it's not like she can just tell him that she's being kicked out of Narnia. "It's so peaceful and quiet and – "
"Mm," Caspian says lightly, his smooth voice washing over hers. "It's an escape, you mean," he adds, dark eyes slanting across and catching her gaze, silencing her instantly with the intensity and passion she can see blazing inside him. He's a King, she reminds herself when her heartbeat speeds up. He's a King, he's thirteen hundred years younger, and she's about to leave Narnia forever.
Forever is a long time, though.
"So what?" she demands, regaining a bit of her usual queenly exterior (façade). "Sometimes, I need an escape from all the chaos that comes with Cair Paravel. Perhaps watching Peter and Edmund bicker over something silly isn't my idea of a good time."
"Calm down," Caspian laughs, stepping closer to her. "I wasn't trying to offend you. We all need escapes. Sometimes…"
Here he stops, reaches over, and takes her hand. The warmth of his skin against hers startles her for a moment, but it's easy to get used to the feeling of touching him when his thumb is tracing designs ohsogently over her palm, tattooing her skin with a kind of light she could only ever find in Narnia.
"Sometimes what?" she prompts, more than a little curious as to what he was going to say.
"Sometimes they help us realize things," he finishes, his words slow and his voice husky. "Sometimes they help us figure out the answer to a problem, or the reason for something, or the meaning of life. Or something."
Susan looks at him incredulously as he coughs and glances away from her, but she's unable to help the smile that plays across her face. "The meaning of life?"
"Well, clearly, being poetic doesn't work for me," he mutters, half-grinning when his eyes meet hers accidentally. "So, um…"
"Speaking of poetry and other music-related things," Susan says, standing up and gathering her skirts. "Is Lucy finally playing her flute again? She hasn't touched that since we left Narnia last time."
Indeed, there are melodies floating through the air, swirling around Cair Paravel and the surrounding forests, the distant echo of Lucy's music lingering in the little glade. Caspian looks around for a moment, evidently confused about Lucy's re-discovered love for the flute which she had abandoned in Narnia at the end of the Golden Age, but then his eyes meet hers, and he smiles.
"My Queen," he breathes, sweeping her a bow. "May I have this dance?"
Her head is saying nononono. Because this is silly, this is a crush, this is nevereverever going to work out because he's Caspian and she's Susan and life doesn't work that way. She's not going to dance with the King of a magical world who's thirteen hundred years younger than her and who'll probably marry some pretty Narnian girl after she leaves (forever). She's just not.
But her heart is saying yes, and this is Narnia, so guess what wins?
"I'd love to," she murmurs, accepting his outstretched hand and trying to ignore the way butterflies are waltzing all around her stomach as he draws her closer till she's pressed up against his hefty frame, her head tilted up so she can look at his dark eyes and marvel over the effect he has on her.
"You look beautiful, by the way," Caspian adds sincerely as he spins her around the little lake. "I don't think I mentioned that. Blue is a pretty color on you."
Susan half-smiles. "Blue is a pretty color on anybody. But thank you."
He grins, twirls her, dips her, and brings her back up again with a flourish, her dark curls, styled to perfection for the coronation ceremony, whipping around her face in the breezes that seem to have sped up. Caspian laughs, spinning her out from his arms and then back to his chest, clearly enjoying every minute of their haphazard, impromptu dance.
And if she's being honest, she's enjoying it, too.
"Do you normally do this?" she asks him, trying not to laugh when he rather cleverly manages to dance around a poorly-placed rock. "Dance with random girls you meet to flute music?"
"Well, no," he admits, flashing her a heartmelting grin. "Just you, actually."
Her breath catches in her throat as, back in Cair Paravel, Lucy's music fades on the wind. Caspian's arms are still around her, warm and tempting, and his eyes are just so dark and full of life, she finds it hard to persuade her heart rate to return to normal when he's looking at her. She leans up, he leans down, and they might have met halfway –
If a trumpet hadn't unceremoniously interrupted their would-be kiss.
Caspian jerks away from her, a blush clear on his face. "Um, sorry about that," he mutters awkwardly. "I just – uh, I guess I should be going. It's almost time for the coronation."
Susan steps back, gingerly finger-combing her curls to make sure they're still in place. "Yeah. That would be – you should probably do that," she agrees, nodding, looking anywhere but at him, because she knows that if she sees his dark eyes or his sweet smile again, she might actually kiss him.
"I'll see you there, then," he says, offering her a tentative smile.
"Right," Susan sighs, smiling back. "I'll see you there."
Caspian takes a moment to flash her one last smile before darting out of the glade, taking with him the warmth and light and woodsy scent she'd come to associate with him alone. Left in the clearing without a dance partner, Susan sits back down against a rock, wishing on every star that she could find a way to stay in Narnia.
Dancing with Caspian, it had felt like they had forever in their hands.
But she's a Queen, and if there's one thing she learned in this world, it's that forever never lasts.
(Perhaps that's the message of Narnia?)
Author's Notes: Oh, look, my first Narnia fic! :D I wish it wasn't movieverse, but oh, well. I hope you guys all liked it, anyway! If you read it, please drop me a review and tell me what you thought!
Don't favorite without reviewing, please and thank you :)
