Sun and Shadow
Chapter II
"Have you been able to locate the whereabouts of our King?"
"I regret to say I have not Lord Cras," Nausus replied remorsefully, extending his hands wide in a hopeless gesture, "was the matter for which you sought the King of great importance?"
Lord Cras' face furrowed deeply as he gritted his teeth, keen grey eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Lady Eldra and her two daughters from the Northern city of Darn have been spotted within sight of the palace. It is the King's place to ride out and welcome such honoured guests," Lord Cras explained bitterly.
Nausus nodded emphatically, his eyes wide with understanding, "another Lord would fulfil the duty competently. I'm sure King Caspian himself would agree – perhaps you Lord Cras could ride out to welcome the Lady Eldra and her company?"
Lord Cras' eyes widened in shocked surprise at the suggestion, his jaw working slackly for a few moments yet no speech being produced.
"It is meant to be the King's duty to welcome guests of high ranking to Cair Paravel personally!" Lord Cras finally exclaimed, as he appeared quite flustered.
Nausus gave him a sympathetic smile, "of course you are right Lord Cras but as I have explained King Caspian is yet to be found and we would not want to cause offense by sending no one to greet Lady Eldra?"
Lord Cras ground his teeth together in irritation, as he stared down formidably at the serenely composed Faun.
"Very well," Lord Cras eventually relented, schooling his face into a grim mask of begrudging acceptance, "I will ride out to welcome the Lady Eldra, her daughters and company," Lord Cras finished stiffly, before turning sharply with not even a courteous word of farewell he marched down the hall, already barking orders to his following squire.
Nausus sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a brief moment. After having collected himself, and after casting a surreptitious glance about the empty hallway, he made his way over to one of the tapestries.
"As your advisor my King, I must tell you that I do not appreciate being put in such a position as that," Nausus said miserably, his eyes troubled as he twisted his silver ring.
A quiet exhale sounded before the richly coloured tapestry rippled and was pulled aside revealing a shadowed alcove in which sat a sulking King Caspian.
"And as your friend I apologise for placing you so," Caspian answered, looking to Nausus contritely, before standing and stretching the young King stepped out of the alcove into the bright sunshine of the hallway.
Nausus still looked discomfited about his recent actions as he loitered and Caspian looked to his advisor.
"I am truly sorry Nausus but I cannot say I am not most grateful for what you did even if dishonesty in a King is an abhorrent trait," Caspian said with a slight quirk of his lips.
Nausus looked slightly eased as he managed a small smile in return, "it was I who was dishonest," he corrected resolutely, "though I cannot say Lord Cras believed me," he added worriedly.
Caspian grinned widely, "I have no doubt that he didn't; your face is too honest Nausus!" Caspian teased, laughing at his advisor's torn expression of horror that he had not fooled Lord Cras and being pleased that he was evidently considered a truthful Faun.
"Well, I…" Nausus began when there was a high gaggle of distant feminine laughter.
Both King and Advisor turned their heads, to gaze down the hall as a trio of ladies – clearly noblewomen by their dress – appeared.
They walked sedately down the hall, talking animatedly with wide bright eyes, the skirts of their dresses whispering against the marble floors; they had yet to notice the young King and his advisor loitering at the great tapestry.
Caspian grimaced; and they weren't going to notice either, he thought resolutely, grasping Nausus' elbow firmly, he yanked his advisor behind the tapestry and into the cramped alcove.
Even in the gloom afforded by the translucent light that filtered through the tapestry Caspian could see the vastly disapproving look on Nausus' face.
Caspian looked to him apologetically with desperate pleading eyes.
His reaction was a little dramatic Caspian granted. But for the past three weeks since Nausus had told him of the dreaded birthday tournament Caspian had been on beck and call to the visitors that had begun to trickle in; from the riding out to welcome them personally to Cair Paravel for 'his' tournament to the subsequent feasts in their honour that was necessitated when new nobles arrived.
There had been the arrival of the contingent from the Lone Islands containing at least a score of noble ladies from proud time-honoured houses with their numerous daughters and mild-mannered husbands who had merely looked to Caspian in amused sympathy as he was overwhelmed by the hoard of gracious women.
A similar company from Archenland had arrived a few days after that with the proud Archenland princesses travelling with a personal guard of over three-score soldiers which Caspian found to be excessive. The land they travelled over was Narnian and held no threat to them, the only need for such a show of force was for their own vanity. It made Caspian pale in angered contemplation as he considered the villages in Archenland now left defenceless against the raiders just to satisfy the Archenland royalty's egotism.
But he was not King of Archenland and Caspian could only advise the ageing King of Archenland, King Avrain who had travelled with his daughters to send home some of his guards to Archenland to be distributed along their weakened borders. There was no need for them here within the very walls of Cair Paravel that was already protected by Narnian soldiers. But, only confirming Caspian's suspicions King Avrain had brushed off the suggestion, seeming almost affronted that someone as young and 'inexperienced' as Caspian would advise him on how to handle his soldiers.
Caspian had made repeated requests to assemble councils both on Galma's drought and the slave trader raids in Archenland with the accompanying dignitaries but his attempts had been thwarted on both occasions.
King Avrain seemed reluctant to accept any aid, insisting that there was no problem that Archenland had the situation well under control. Caspian suspected King Avrain did not want to accept help from a King younger than his own sons.
The Galmians however seemed eager and willing to welcome Narnia's help. The Galmian drought was temporarily being managed by the fellow Lone Islands. Caspian did not like relying on the provisional method of help, and was keen to sit down and draw up a more substantial and thorough resolution to the issue with the Galmian lords, however the halting force particularly could be centred on one source; Lord Farzán. He was quick to remind them all that this was meant to be a 'tournament of fun and games' and that the drought was being successfully managed for now that any serious discussions could wait until after the tournament.
All in all the past three weeks had left Caspian frustrated as no further progress was made on meaningful issues and his patience was being sorely stretched by having to repeat the same pleasantries over and over again to smiling princesses and ladies alike.
Hence Caspian's desperate wish to have one morning free of welcoming nobles, of having repeated and meaningless conversations and of having to appear overjoyed every single time. And his desperation had led to some very un-kingly behaviour such as hiding all morning from his councillors, having his advisors lie in his stead and ducking behind tapestries to avoid noble guests.
Presently the three ladies seemed to be passing the very tapestry Nausus and Caspian were hiding behind with abated breath, their airy voices placing them from the Lone Islands.
"The tournament is just going to be the most wonderful spectacle…since – since: since forever!" the young voice of a girl rose in excited, giddy crests to be met with the amused chuckles of her companions.
Caspian gave an absent smile as he heard it; at least someone was sure to enjoy his birthday tournament he thought fleetingly.
"And what gift are you giving the king for his birthday Alia?" an older girl's voice sounded; the baiting tone evident and Caspian almost groaned as he heard them evidently pause almost directly outside their very tapestry; the soft scuffing sound of silk slippers across marble floors falling silent.
It would be just his luck Caspian bemoaned inwardly; perhaps this was punishment – that his truant morning would be spent in a cramped alcove behind a dusty tapestry with his increasingly displeased advisor.
The younger girl spluttered for a moment in panic, "but…but I thought my father – our House; but…you mean I personally have to present the King with a gift?" the younger girl sounded almost close to tears.
The crystal laughter of the girl's two companions sounded richly, "do not tease the child so Caitra!" a new voice sounded; the voice of the third companion Caspian supposed, wishing fervently that they would continue on so that he could relieve his cramped knees. Nausus looked to him, his face paling and Caspian furrowed his brow; this would not be a position he would like to be caught in – a King hiding from women.
"Nay Alia, your father will present the King with a gift from your House. There is no need for you to fret," the third voice continued soothingly and a pitiful sniffle could be heard, "that was cruel Caitra!" the young voice, Alia – Caspian assumed, cried indignantly.
"Do not be so gullible then," the voice Caspian now associated with the name Caitra chided firmly.
"Caitra," the third voice sounded again, warningly.
Caspian tried to shift minutely while Nausus looked close to whimpering aloud; when on earth were these women going to continue on their way?!
An exasperated sigh was expelled that captured Caspian's own emotions quite perfectly, the young King thought with bitterness.
"You think you are doing the child a favour Celesyn by allowing her to remain so naïve?" Caitra, Caspian identified immediately.
"Naïve?! I'm not naïve!" Alia's protest sounded vehemently.
"Caitra there is no need to pursue this conversation," – the soothing voice; Celesyn – it had to be, Caspian reasoned, while Nausus' face contorted into an angered frown – well as angry as the normally serene and docile Faun could.
"I only want to protect her – the child still believes this banquet is all about fun, games and the King's birthday!" Caitra's voice raised scathingly, the condescension almost palpable, but her words made Caspian focus.
"Stop calling me a child!" another ignored protest from Alia.
"And why shouldn't it be about that for her?" Celesyn demanded.
"We all know what this banquet is truly about Celesyn; King Caspian must take a wife."
Caspian closed his eyes briefly wishing all his guests could be as innocent and gullible as sweet Alia, rather than shrewd and cruel like Caitra.
Opening his eyes Caspian considered perhaps he was being too harsh; he could not base his entire opinion on a person's character on the words of an eavesdropped conversation.
He only wished the conversation would end soon and the by look on Nausus' face told him the Faun was thinking the same.
"King Caspian is going to get married?! – A royal wedding, a King's birthday and a tournament! Who is the lady that is to be queen?!" Alia's voice rose high in excitement once more and Caspian almost smiled as he mentally noted that he would have to seek out Alia of The Lone Islands at the banquet if only to tell her not to listen to Caitra and to remain as gullible as she liked.
A bright peal of laughter rang out – Caitra.
"There is no lady, Alia," a softer voice explained – Celesyn.
"King Caspian will never wed!" Caitra declared contemptuously and Caspian stiffened.
"Why?!" Alia cried almost simultaneously with Celesyn's admonishing cry of "Caitra!"
"The King will never marry for his heart has already been taken!" Caitra announced with an almost vicious delight as though she were enjoying telling the tale, and it seemed to be a fair assumption based on the dramatics that accompanied her narrative including the lengthy tensed pauses.
A weary sigh sounded that Caspian assumed could only belong to Celesyn as he could practically count Alia's panicked anticipated breaths in the dramatic quiet.
"His heart was stolen by the Queen of Old and Legend; Queen Susan the Gentle of the radiant Southern Sun!"
Caspian released a heavy sigh, momentarily forgetting that he and Nausus were meant to be invisible but the quiet sound of fatigue and exasperation were drowned out by Alia's cries.
"That is enough!" Celesyn asserted in no uncertain terms, "Alia go on to our rooms," Celesyn ordered.
There was a whining huff and then Nausus and Caspian exchanged relieved glances as the quick scamper of receding footsteps could be heard.
But there relief was suspended shortly.
"Was that really necessary Caitra; the last thing we need is for the child to blurt it out in the face of the King!"
Caspian grimaced in complete agreement with Celesyn on that point.
There was a derisive scoff in response, "please Celesyn - it is well known that the King's heart belongs to the Gentle Queen; I was there the day the Queens and Kings of Old left Narnia. I witnessed their last minutes together – Am I now to be scolded for teaching your slow-witted cousin lessons which are known by even the lowliest kitchen-hand?"
"I hardly call spreading gossip to deserve the title of 'lessons'" Celesyn bit back sharply, "but no it is not the gossip you shared Caitra, but rather the manner in which you imparted it with my cousin that I take issue with. Alia is still only a child and she has done nothing to deserve your contempt or your cruelty."
There was a cynical exhale of air and then suddenly the soft whisper of silk slippers moving swiftly.
"I make no apology for my words Celesyn, only allow me to divulge to you a piece of advice; if you think my words cruel, I dread to see your reaction to the rest of the noblewomen here. Countless women have travelled further than we with one goal in mine; to become Queen of Narnia and your innocent little air-head cousin will be completely out of her depth." The words sounded from further down the hall and the footsteps were fast disappearing, Celesyn's reply nothing more than a murmur that Caspian couldn't make out.
Silence dominated for a few moments and Nausus chanced a peek around the tapestry before he heaved a loud sigh of relief, "thank Aslan – they're gone!" he exclaimed.
They stepped out onto the hallway once more; Nausus looking almost ready to faint.
The Faun turned to the King sharply, "your Majesty I must insist that anything like that never happens again!" Nausus demanded shrilly.
However the Faun's expression softened immediately as he saw the troubled frown and forlorn look haunting Caspian's face.
"Once more I am truly sorry Nausus," Caspian apologised again, attempting a gracious smile that was a poor replica, "it seems I am no use to anyone this morning," the young king said quietly, his tone despondent, "I will be in my chambers," Caspian added over his shoulder, already moving away.
Nausus' hand shot out in the last moment to stall him.
Caspian turned expectantly to be met with Nausus compassionate blue eyes, "I am sorry that their words upset you Caspian," Nausus said gently.
Caspian gave him a grateful smile that failed to reach his eyes as he shrugged with a forced casual air, "they only spoke the truth afterall."
Nausus watched the young regent walk with sure strides down the hall, shoulders held proudly because kings couldn't let their burdens show. However the dark head upon which glinted the gold crown dipped just fractionally lower.
Caspian made his way swiftly to his own chambers, hoping fervently that he would not happen across any more noble ladies or demanding lords.
Breathing out a grateful sigh Caspian reached the doors to his royal compartments with haste and uninterrupted and with a few murmured words he instructed the sentry that stood guard at his rooms at all times to gently deter any potential visitors.
"Only if absolutely necessary am I to be disturbed," Caspian enforced and the sentry nodded vigorously; no matter how much he may wish to be alone he was King of Narnia first and foremost.
With a brief quirk of his lips in thanks Caspian disappeared inside his chambers, sighing heavily.
He mentally noted he would have to seek out the Lady Eldra and her daughters tomorrow evening at the welcoming feast to apologise personally that he did not ride out to welcome them.
As he passed a table Caspian deposited his crown on the shining mahogany with a muted 'thump'. Ever more recently the burnishing gold crown with its numerous inlaid gemstones had begun to weigh heavier.
It wasn't the crown that weighed heavier Caspian realised bitterly as he walked out onto the balcony that overlooked the sea from his chambers; but the responsibilities that came with it.
Five years ago when he had taken to the throne Caspian had been a boy, unsure of his abilities to lead and to rule and afraid that he would fail those who relied on him. He had had no kindly relatives to turn to for advice though with an absent smile Caspian amended when he thought of the staunch support the Professor had provided over the years and of his good friend Lord Drinian.
Caspian was able to push the heartbreak away at the beginning, to throw himself into his duties in rebuilding a Narnia for all creatures; human and not alike and to fend off Narnia's enemies.
There had been much work to do and during long campaigns into the Northern Lands he could harbour his love like a bright beacon of light and hope that spurred him on to restore Narnia to its days of glory when she who he loved had ruled alongside her siblings.
He could almost imagine that she waited for him back at Cair Paravel like many of the wives of the soldiers who rode with him were.
Perhaps her eyes would scan the distant undulating hills for signs of the banners of the victorious King returning home as she waited in worry and impatience, thinking of the token she had sent with him.
Indeed it seemed almost believable as the ivory white of Susan's horn gleamed softly in the moonlight at his hip; a faithful and constant reminder.
But the bittersweet illusion was shattered the moment he returned to Cair Paravel; silver trumpets would herald their coming and the families of the soldiers would stream into the courtyard.
Weary, injured soldiers would suddenly leap of their steeds and sweep up their tearful wives in passionate embraces.
Caspian would dismount slowly for she wasn't here.
There would be no Susan to run out into the courtyard; she would be dignified and composed – a pinnacle for the ladies of court to look up to, but her eyes would burn brightly, scanning the melee for the familiar dark head of hair.
She would run to him then and he would catch her in his arms, burying his face against her silken tresses that soothed away the bloodied months of battle, her eyes would shine like two fragments of Narnia's skies captured within ebony lashes and he would know then that he was home.
But each time there was no such welcome waiting for him; no warm arms or ardent kisses and each time his heart would weigh a little heavier.
Years of diplomacy, of keeping his emotions and thoughts composed in the most trying of circumstances had slowly faded the lovesick eyes, the whimsical smile that would spread as he thought of her.
But the emotions burned as brightly as they had five years ago and now…now his council, his kingdom expected him to give them up and marry another.
Caspian expelled a heavy sigh, resting his calloused hands on the old stone balustrades from the old Cair Paravel.
Years of weapon-training had honed the protective calluses on his long-fingered hands and so too had the years callused his heart; so that when he heard her name he maintained the composed expression he had been taught or when his breath caught in his throat at the flash of dark hair and bright blue eyes he was able to coldly chastise himself that it couldn't possibly be her; she was another world away.
Caspian allowed his dark eyes to trace the cresting waves against the horizon in the distance, trying to find peace in the soothing motion, to recall the serene acceptance he had felt when he had sailed through the sweet waters to the edge of the world and Aslan's country.
But flexing his fingers against the weathered stone Caspian reminded himself, scolded himself – there would be no peace amongst his council or his kingdom until he had married and provided Narnia with an heir.
It felt strange Caspian mused that despite the little time he and Susan had had with one another he felt that he was almost betraying her now.
He had loved her with a boy's heart five years ago; entranced by the beauty of this queen of legend, her fabled skill with bow and arrow. But as he matured so too did his heart and the love it bore for Queen Susan matured with it.
As a young insolent boy raised by his cruel and proud uncle he had once thought Queen Susan weak as Professor Cornelius told him tales of the Gentle Queen, but he remembered how sorely wrong he was. He was awed by her fierceness in battle, her selflessness as she willingly sacrificed herself to save her sister. He saw beyond the beauty that had captured the hearts of countless knights during the Golden Ages.
The sea could offer him no peace today Caspian relented wearily as he turned back to go into his chambers. He passed through the general rooms where he held private councils and things towards his bedchamber.
His eyes briefly alighted on the grand oil painting that covered an entire panel, and the displayed and revered weapons that rested on their intricately carved pedestals before it.
It was of the Kings and Queens of Old; the Pevensies – Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy; as close to a family as he had known.
Lucy's cordial winked brightly caught in the noonday sun, her dagger resting beside it. Caspian grinned briefly thinking of the Valiant Queen he loved as a sister and of her elder brothers Edmund and Peter who despite their initial differences he loved fiercely like brothers.
Susan's bow rested lightly on its own, the brilliant crimson fletches of her arrows undulled by time.
Caspian liked to use the gifts of those he considered family; liked to imagine that they somehow guided him as he used Peter's sword or Lucy's cordial. However he never used Susan's bow for it had been made specifically for the Gentle Queen; the wood lighter and slightly shorter in stature to suit a more feminine frame.
Caspian passed through to his bedchamber, loosening the leather ties on his tunic to relax the ornate collar that had been inlaid with threaded gold.
He didn't need to look at the oil painting to be able to recall every detail, much like the one Caspian had commissioned to be painted in the throne room; and below which rested the four crowns of the monarchs on velvet cushions in a place of honoured remembrance.
Caspian collapsed gratefully onto the covers of his bed, his dark hair splaying across the silken pillowcases as he gazed above him unseeingly.
In his mind he saw the empty throne that had sat beside his unfilled for five years. He tried to imagine another sitting in it; another who was not Susan.
Digging the heels of his palms into his eyes Caspian breathed out heavily; it was impossible.
How could the council expect him to marry?
As Caitra had so crudely pointed out – everyone down to the lowliest kitchen-hand knew that their King's heart belonged to a Queen of legend who lay a world away and who could never return.
Many of those in his council were lords who had chosen to stay when Aslan had given them the choice five years ago.
They had seen Susan at the last moment stride back to him purposefully. Caspian remembered how his heart had stuttered, coherent thoughts fled as she stood before him; her eyes filled with determination. Caspian remembered wishing fervently that she wouldn't speak for whatever words of goodbye she would give him could never be enough and he would never let her go. He had prepared himself for her leaving as best he could, but if she spoke to him now every scrap of willpower it was taking for him to stand by and let her leave would be crumble before her like dust.
But she had offered him no more words, but pressed her lips to his in a kiss he would remember to his dying breath and beyond and the strange thing was that in her kiss she had given him the strength to let her go as was Aslan's will.
Caspian sighed, drawing a weary hand across his temples, the silk coverlet on his bed whispering with his movements.
It had been so long since he had had time and privacy enough to dwell on such memories for though Susan was always in his mind he could not in good conscious allow his thoughts to linger on pleasant memories.
In the middle of a war council discussing the recent budding threat of Calormen Caspian could not indulge himself in imagining how the sun streaming through the council chamber's high windows would look as it caught the richness of her hair.
For Caspian was as Susan herself had predicted with the utmost confidence – a great King; always putting his duties as King of Narnia before his own desires.
Wasn't that why he had turned his back on joining his own father that he had mourned and missed bitterly over the long years at the end of the world? For to do so would be as good as deserting Narnia, absconding the throne the Narnians had fought so hard to win him. It was not what a good king would do and so Caspian had stayed, to reign as King and lead the people of Narnia who had seen fit to place their trust in him.
And now his people demanded he choose a queen; his councillors' patience was at its last tether, even Professor Cornelius had been throwing less subtle jabs over the passing months. Though Caspian knew the Professor and even Nausus' gentle nudges were in the hope that in choosing a bride Caspian may heal enough and find happiness and love once more in another.
But the passage of time providing the further authenticating that Susan's absence from Narnia was permanent did nothing to make Caspian warm any further to the idea.
'Time had passed – five years in fact' Caspian's thoughts reminded him and he recalled Professor Cornelius' words; those born into a noble life do not always have the luxury of love.
With a heavy heart Caspian realised that the Professor, Nausus, even his councillors were right; the time was nigh – he had to choose a wife.
The threat from Calormen was growing, if war – though may Aslan forbid it Caspian prayed thinking of the soldiers who would fall if such a catastrophe would occur – however if war was inevitable there was a chance that Caspian could fall in battle and Narnia's throne would be barren.
Narnia needed an heir.
And so Caspian needed to choose a wife; loveless union or not.
So…a lot of CaspianAngst! – I'm very cruel when it comes to writing heartbreak.
Many thanks to GothGirl1996, HungerGamesQueen100 and Contrary To Popular Belief for the favourites / & / follows.
Especial thanks to those who reviewed also!
writeagain; thank-you; 1st review! I hope it lives up the expectations of a promising story then.
Just Me; thank-you! Yes I was awfully cruel to Caspian wasn't I? I'm not sure this chapter was much better for the poor lad though.
GothGirl1996; thank-you! Erm…you see, I have a loose plot in my head that could go either of two ways at the moment and I haven't decided which will work better yet; so for now…don't cross anything out *mysterious grin*
wildhorses1492; thank-you! I'm really glad that you thought it came across as authentic; that was a big concern of mine!
sarahwood; thank-you! Here you go: next chapter! – I hope you enjoy it as much as you enjoyed the first.