AND SO THE STORY CONTINUES! Ended last time on a pretty sad note so to cheer it up...I'LL GIVE YOU SOME ROMANCE~
or will i throw in some juicy plot? ;) THE STORY CHANGES DEPENDING ON THE REVIEWS SO REVIEW UP EVERYONEEEEEE
Mr. Lewis owns everything that I wish to own someday...shh I never said that
November 3rd, Year 1946
Narnia
Nightfall comes by quickly, and it gets cold. Susan can't remember how to live, her body automatically breathing and blinking for her. Maybe if I just wake up, it'll all be just a bad dream, she tries to convince herself. But falling asleep is out of the option. She knows how dangerous it could be as an unguarded female walking alone in the night. But it's also her chance to get out of here. She slowly brings herself up, leaning on the tree for support.
"Sorry." She whispers to the bark, knowing full well it probably couldn't hear her. Her knees are weak, as if she hadn't used them in years. Clawing her way through the trees, she only manages a few hundred meters before she feels out of breath. Her lips are cracked, and her throat is so hoarse it hurts to breathe.
She can't cry for help, and it's stupid how weak she was. Weak, pitiful, useless. Her head pounds with the insults she throws at herself. She doesn't realize her lips are forming silent words scolding herself for losing her only sister. She stumbles and falls to the ground, knowing that she's too dehydrated and hungry to walk another step. Her eyes don't close, for she's afraid of the dangers lurking nearby.
She's awoken suddenly by pounding footsteps. Had she fallen asleep? Stupid, stupid, stupid. She mentally screams out her frustration at not being strong, but stays quiet in case they would hear her.
They're coming closer. She can hear it. Her sharp hunter's senses awaken for the first time in many long years, and she automatically distinguishes the different footsteps. One of them is limping, his gait was uneven. That would be to her advantage. They were all marching, she was sure, in a noble formation. No, they were searching. It was obvious by the sudden stop and start of the noise. Well, they aren't very good at stealth. She smiled at their naivety compared to her many years of war.
Suddenly the steps were all around her. They had spread out, and closing in. She was vulnerable, the night's dark cloak the only thing shielding her frail self. Susan scoured the area for a tree to climb, a rock to hide behind, anything. She was in an open field, with nothing but a few short stumps around her. They were chopped down. She realizes in horror. No wonder the trees weren't moving, and the birds weren't singing. What have they done to my home? She stifles a gasp as she pictures the other things that could've happened. He would've never... Her thoughts stop. He's not going to swoop in and save the day. Be strong, Susan. She cheers herself on.
Weapons? Nothing but her hands and feet. Perhaps a stick laying around somewhere. But the forest was her terrain. The men's footsteps were choppy- they didn't know how to navigate silently. She lay down quietly, feigning unconsciousness. The moment she did, three men burst into the clearing. She kept her eyes firmly shut, for fear of recognition. They dashed over to her, and she could smell their putrid breath.
"We have a survivor." One of them grunts, his voice deep and rough.
"Pulse?" A second voice comes out, cool and calculated. He was most likely the medic- he did not sound like a battle worn warrior.
A clammy hand presses itself to her neck, and she tries not to flinch. Susan never liked the feeling of another's hands on her. She felt almost... violated. Eventually, he removes himself.
"Yeah. It's pounding like crazy." She can hear his smirk, and she curses her body for betraying her state. She smells cold metal, and hears the unsheathing of a dagger. Her heart thumps a crazed tempo, fear overtaking her mind. Was this how she died? Was this it for the former Queen?
Another set of footsteps enter the clearing- a horses' gallop. This person must be important to be on horseback rather than on foot. Susan hears the clink of metal against chains, and realizes he must be a prince or noble to have sword and armor.
"Wait. Let her be. Perhaps she can come to court." She does gasp this time. She knows that voice. It's someone she knows- and has been thinking about for the last 7 years. Her eyes fly open, and immediately find dark onyx ones. A playful smirk tugs on his lips- one she's missed so much- as he stares into hers.
"All hail Queen Susan the Gentle of Narnia." Caspian bows low, and his troops follow.
Susan is taken to his castle. It's the same as it always is- grand, magnificent, impressive. She holds back years worth of comments for Caspian, her nails biting into her palm every time he glances at her. She's happy- really happy. She can't suppress the blush on her face every time she glances at him and finds him already staring. Her cheeks always pull upwards against her will whenever her eyes unconsciously flit towards his gorgeous onyx eyes, the ones she has pictured time and time again in her mind.
"C-C-Caspian." She manages to splutter out. She curses her blasted mouth for not ever working right in his presence. Susan snaps her head up just to catch Caspian throw a casual glance over his shoulder at her. Why does he have to be so out of my league? Susan silently pleads.
"Hello, Susan." He responds, turning towards the front again.
"Uh...h-how...how have you...um...been? You know, these...erm...past few...uh...years..." Again with the stuttering! Get a hold of yourself, Su! She mentally whacks herself, again cursing her lack of suave. She hears Caspian's low rumbling laughter, and her cheeks grow warm.
"The castle's changed, for sure. I made sure they kept a memorial of your thrones though. Just as a memento. Ya know? Here, let me show you what they've become." Caspian's smile is contagious, and Susan finds herself grinning alongside him as well. Caspian's hand envelops hers as he steers them both towards another complex of rooms. Susan's heart races as she feels her body tingling from the warmth of his hand.
Hand in hand...it was such a simple act, yet her body felt the sweet heat from Caspian spread throughout her every pore and penetrate the deepest part of her heart. As his large hand enveloped hers, she felt as if the long suffering winter that had overcome her senses slowly melt with every touch of spring. Their temperatures melted together, and the longing that had covered her for so long finally disappeared with the small but sweet gesture of Caspian's. She feels like she's finally alive- not just breathing and pumping blood and living- the kind of alive that makes you want to dance and sing and let your never-ending energy explode out to touch all the corners of the earth.
"Here. It may look a bit different, but it's what I could do with the wars always happening." Caspian grins sheepishly, and Susan thinks it's the most adorable face he's ever pulled for someone so mature. She takes a look around, and gasps.
The thrones are no longer mere chairs of stone, but rather have become great marble statues of a grand scale. They had carved a roaring lion into the side of Peter's old throne, which now stood a tad bit higher than the rest. It was coated with gold, and draped along the back of the chair was a stunning red cloth that depicted Peter's many hard fought battles. There's the White Witch, Susan points out, and there's Aslan and Reepicheep! She laughs as she notices Caspian's face scratched crudely onto the armrest with the saying, "I'll miss fighting with you! Come back soon, King!" It was no doubt Caspian's own handiwork.
Edmund's seat was a deep silver lined with flecks of gold, glimmering beautifully in the sunlight. The cloth draped against the back was a dazzling white, with a blue mariner's star in the middle. The base of the seat contained a depiction of a golden chess set, arranged neatly, ready to be played. Upon further discovery did Susan notice that there was a hidden button in the chair that brought forward an actual golden chess set, the one from Edmund's prior years. If he had been here, that throne wouldn't be standing anymore, Susan thought jokingly.
Lucy's throne was a simple sky blue, with a deep ocean blue drape cloth over the back. Dazzling colors of green, blue, and pink wrapped around the seat in the form of vines and blooming flowers. A birds nest had made its way into one of these vines, and there now lived a family of bluejays and woodpeckers in her throne. It was quite fitting, for Lucy the Valiant had never been one for extravagant fancies, nor would she accept them. She loved animals as well, and would have been delighted to find the birds.
Susan turned finally to her own throne. It was a startling white, pure and delicate. Intricate markings snaked their way up the chair, and unlike the others, hers did not have a drape cloth. The back portrayed her adventures- her archery practice, her hunting, her commandeering of troops in battle. It was not bold and declarative like Peter's, nor simple and childish like Lucy's. It was simple, yes, but also demanded attention for it's intricacy. It was truly a work of art.
"Oh Caspian, how on earth did you manage this?" Susan is sure her eyes are sparkling, for Caspian's eyes twinkle as well.
"It really was nothing, just a little bit here and there..." He shrugs, but she sees the proud grin threatening to overcome his nonchalant facade. She dances around the four thrones joyfully, never more happy to see them. She grabs Caspian by the wrists and spins him around with her, both laughing boisterously.
"I missed you so much, Caspian. You, and the rest of Narnia. I would've come back sooner if I could've!" She proclaims, still spinning.
"I missed you too, Susan! It's been a long and lonely seven years without you four." He grins back. Susan could've lived in that moment forever. Just her and Caspian, carefree, dizzy, happy.
So this is Narnia. Susan beams. No, she corrects herself, this is home.
November 3rd, Year 1946
They sit on the thrones and chat aimlessly for what seems like hours. Finally, Susan works up the nerve to prod at more intimate matters.
"So, you never told me how your life was here? How are the wars?" Caspian's joyous nature vanishes, and he almost frowns.
"Some people are still...resistant to us, I guess. Not as bad as before, but it's still there." He admits grudgingly.
"How are the Narnians doing?"
"Ehh..."
"Hn?"
"They're...managing fine so far."
"I don't believe a word you say, Caspian." She pokes him teasingly, and he rolls his eyes.
"The wars are definitely hurting them, but...I talked to Trumpkin and the other dwarfkin and they seem alright."
"That's good."
"Mm."
Their conversation seems to come to an awkward stop, yet Susan grasps desperately at topics just to keep his voice going.
"Are the trees still dancing?"
"Yes. Quite lovely to see, especially in the spring."
"Take me sometime."
"Perhaps. If you are still here."
"I hope so."
"I hope so too." He frowns for a moment, then returns to a neutral face.
"Is something the matter?" Susan notices his discomfort almost immediately.
"It's nothing, I'm just thinking." She knows he's lying, but decides to drop it. She tries a lighter matter.
"It's been seven years Caspian, have any of the ladies come for you yet?" She means it as a teasing matter, but his frown deepens. "Oh come on, don't tell me you haven't seen a single woman this entire time? Aww, did someone miss me? Thanks, I feel so-"
"Yea. I did see someone." His quiet admission startles her. Oh, lighten up Su, did you really expect him not to? She prods more.
"So what's her name?"
"Actually, uh-"
"What's who's name?" A third voice rings out from the hallway, and Susan hears the clink of high heels against the stone floor. She whips around immediately, desiring to know the source of the voice.
Soft blue eyes atop a small, pert nose. A splash of freckles across high cheekbones and a defined jawline. Ruby red lips pursed slightly in disdain. A silver gown flowing down to her ankles, revealing the slightest bit of short open toed heels. A slim waist and ample bust connected to flawless fair skin.
Gorgeous white blond hair atopped with a silver tiara symbolizing queen-ship.
"Susan," Caspian shifted uncomfortably, "meet my wife, the queen of Narnia, Reina."