If you haven't noticed, all of the chapter titles for this story are song titles. You're all pretty astute, so I'm sure that you know this. Think of it as this story's playlist. However, usually, the song only applies to one scene.

Here's a list of the songs and exactly when they're being played

1. It's Only a Paper Moon (Ella Fitzgerald) - Just as Caspian is about to leave Narnia
2. A Lack of Color (Death Cab for Cutie) - As the sun is setting over Susan's grave site
3. By the Boab Tree (Ofelia of the Spirits) - When Glozelle is beginning to tell the story of the True Bride
4. Titania (Harv) - When Caspian is walking through the Queen's Garden and finds Lucy's statue
5. The Christmas Song (Mel Tormé and Bob Wells) - Throughout the whole chapter

And now, here is Send in the Clowns, as sung by Judy Collins. Can you tell me which scene it belongs to?

A broken heart falls more easily in love than a whole one. Although that heart's tumble into infatuation was small, for Glozelle, it was like diving in headfirst. He'd never bought into love at first sight. It was a silly concept. True love couldn't be established with a single glance. But after a night of conversation with an equally amazing and admirable woman, he reluctantly admitted that his affection for Lucy had bloomed much quicker than he anticipated. She was sweet, kind and collected; and in spite of her death sentence, she was endlessly worried about the people around her.

'You don't have to stay with me, I know you're tired.'

'It's cold in here, and your cloak is thin.'

'I don't like beef. You should give it to the other prisoners.'

But it was her heartrending honesty that drew his romantic interest.

"I'm afraid to die, Glozelle," she whispered as she walked over to the cell's small window. Outside the sun was yellow and bright.

"I promise it'll be quick," the general breathed from his seat on the ground. His eyes roved up and down her back. She was so small next to him, maybe five-foot-eight or so, but she was still shapely in her own right.

"I know it'll only hurt for a second, and I'm not afraid to be dead. But dying just seems like it'll be agonizing."

Glozelle tried to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth away, but it just made his tongue dry out.

"Do you want me to be the one to do it? If you asked it of me, I'd swing the ax."

The smile she offered as she turned around was brave and wide. Her teeth were remarkably even and white. "You would never be able to live with yourself if you did. Let someone else be my murderer."

"Lucy," he begged as he rolled to his feet, his back cracking audibly. "Plead your innocence. You don't have to die. People like you are rare."

He crossed the room in three large steps, reaching out for her as soon as she was close. His hands fell on her shoulders, and he drew her to him, until he was holding her intimately. She gasped, and out of sheer surprise she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Staring down at her with those old brown eyes, he saw a very young woman with many years in front of her. And she was beginning to cry. Tears gathered in the corners of those big eyes, and her mouth was trembling. Glozelle could see that Lucy was terrified, but he knew she wouldn't say a word.

So, with one hand splayed on her back and the other cupping her head, General Glozelle kissed Lucy the criminal's forehead, and gave her the biggest hug he'd ever given anyone. He pressed her pale face into his throat and buried his nose in her hair. It smelled like lemons and roses.

Then she desperately hugged him back, clinging as tightly as she could. Through his leather armor, he could barely feel her, but somehow she warmed him straight through to his heart.

"Please tell me you'll miss me," she sniffled into his collar.

"I will miss you, Lucy," he whispered.

"I will miss you very much."

If it hadn't been for the fact that Drinian looked ridiculous with long hair, seeing him shaving his head would've had Caspian laughing hysterically on the floor.

"I have to admit, Drinian. You look pretty damn good right now. I think I might wrestle you to the ground and have my way with you. Passionately." Caspian said coyly from his bedroll. The sun was just coming up, and the island was cold and foggy. Somehow Drinian was up and already dressed though. The man had an internal clock more accurate than any sundial ever made.

"There were rat dropping in my dreadlocks. I didn't even want to wash them," Drinian growled as he attacked his scalp with a hunting knife. He was using a silver serving platter (stolen booty) as a mirror. There was no better example of an honest sailor or pirate.

"So…" Caspian drawled out slowly. "Do you think Lucy prefers silver or gold?"

"What does it matter?" Several ratty (no pun intended) dreadlocks fell to the ground, revealing shiny, unblemished skin. How that skin was just so dark was hard to understand. Then again, the skin under Caspian's former beard was dark.

"Because I want to know what kind of engagement ring she'd like. She always struck me as the silver type."

Drinian let out a quick, barking laugh. "You're convinced she's still in love with you. It's almost been five years. What if she's moved onto another man?"

The smile on Caspian's face was self-satisfied and sure of itself.

"What other man could she possibly fall in love with? She lives with a bunch of animals in the middle of a forest." Caspian's fingers drummed on his belly, which was still hard and flat with lean muscle. His physique only made him that much more confident.

"You assume she was in love with you to begin with."

And that statement nearly destroyed his confidence. Caspian gasped and sprung straight up, sitting with his back straight as a ruler.

"You take that back," Caspian said snappishly. "I know she was in love with me."

"Caspian, you've been on a boat for nearly half a decade. She's been living in a tree. It's hard to be in love with someone you haven't seen in years. Even when you were there, you weren't in touch daily," Drinian said as he finished shaving off the last of his dreads. His scalp was just so shiny! It really was too bad he was being a dick, otherwise the two men would be laughing. "You came to see her whenever you had spare time." The captain turned around with a disapproving and wrinkled frown. He'd age more than Caspian realized.

"I don't want to be the one to say this, but I have to." Caspian gulped as Drinian walked towards him and then crouched down at his side. "You were a child. You didn't interact with any girls your own age. Susan was dull, whereas Lucy was fun and bubbly and always there when you needed her. She was your favorite playmate." He paused to sigh heavily. "Were you really in love with Lucy, or were you just convinced that you were in love?"

That suggestion went straight through Caspian's heart like a white hot saber. A thousand negative responses flew through his mind. He loved Lucy! He loved her small feet, the muddy hems of her dresses, even her blind and naïve faith in human goodness. There was nothing about her he didn't love.

But the words just wouldn't come! They were frozen in his throat. Drinian, in less than a minute, had planted a vile seed of doubt in his mind.

"Even if she doesn't, even if I'm not," he whispered after a moment, "She's still in great danger. I know that Miraz was well aware of the Old Narnians and their queens, or at least he was deeply suspicious. He knew that my aunt… I mean my nanny, possibly had dwarf blood running through her. He was certain that Dr. Cornelius was half dwarf. But with my father's death still fresh in the mind of the people, there was no way he could go after any of them."

"I don't think he's found any of them," Drinian countered. "That plumper who saw you naked mentioned nothing of the forests or of the Old Narnians. It appears you have been the focus of gossip and spin for years. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor." Drinian clucked and shook his head. "Miraz loves his money. Of course such theft would consume his mind."

"Who could it be then?" Caspain questioned softly. "And why would they accuse me? The idea of it all sounds familiar, I just don't know why."

Suddenly a new voice joined their conversation. It was Rhince, the Dawn Treader's first mate. He stood some feet from them, hands crossed sheepishly behind his back. "Your highness? I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but…"

"It's alright, Rhince," Caspian said encouragingly. "What is it you have to say?"

"Well, sire, some of the men have started rowing supplies from the boat to the shore, and Pittencream even went to the one of the few fishing villages. In fact, it's the only fishing village. There aren't many people who even know how to use boats strong enough to navigate the waves. It just isn't - "

"We know that Telmarines are not sailors," Drinian quipped, cutting Rhince off before he continued wasting their time with obvious facts.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to ramble. But they told me that some of the women had seen a big black warhorse grazing in the valley. It had feathered hooves, a long and arched neck, and relatively small ears. One shrew said it was the most beautiful and muscular horse she'd ever seen. It still had a saddle on."

"Did she was what color that saddle was?" Drinian asked through gritted teeth, his annoyance quickly morphing into fear.

"All of its tack was black, embossed leather. Even the saddle blanket was black velvet."

Caspian stood straight up, unnoticing of his bare calves and feet. He stomped over to his gear, pulling out boots and a cape.

"Is it still there?!" he cried desperately as he clothed himself in less than three minutes. Black leather and velvet were extremely high-priced, especially considering it was for a horse and not a human. Saddles, bridles, breastplates… they were utilitarian and already expensive on their own. Every piece of equipment, every accessory was handmade for one horse, and one horse only. An ill fitting saddle or a wrongly sized bit could injure a horse forever.

Hence, no money could be wasted on fancy stirrups and lacquered leather; unless that horse was a pet, and not a farming tool. People who kept horses for pleasure were the wealthy and the royal. And the only member of the elite who exclusively used black leather on an already black horse was Prince Caspian, who lavished extreme attention on his favorite stallion, Destrier.

But, as much as it broke his heart, he left Destrier in the trustworthy hands of Lucy, who would only abandon the horse under extreme duress.

"Rhince," Drinian said firmly. "Send out Rynelf on our fastest charger. Tell him to look for Glenstorm. They've met before, he'll know who to look for. Then send Pittencream to Beruna. He's to find Gwendolen and her aunt, and to gather as many details about Miraz and the person parading as Caspian. You will go with him, but you'll scout the Castle of Caspian. Leave now!"

Rhince nodded solemnly and stormed away, rousing all the sailors to arms as soon as he was among them. Drinian sheathed his dagger and dug around for his crossbow. As soon as Caspian's boots were laced, he was flying to the closest rowboat, where Drinian joined him at the oars. Every other sea dog and deck hand was loading supplies into their own boats. Caspian could see their horses tethered on the shore. They were already agitated, tossing their manes and stomping their hooves.

Drinian's and Caspian's muscles had never been so exercised as they hauled and paddled their way to the shore. Caspian simply couldn't wait and jumped out of the boat into the shallows and ran to a bay mare, Doris. Even in his frantic state, he left the faster and stronger horses for those sailors who had long distances to ride.

Everything seemed to be happening at once, Caspian realized as he and Drinian got into the saddle. He'd planned on taking things slowly, maybe spending a week at the shore, so he could figure out a way to avoid Miraz and just whisk Lucy away to the Lone Islands. Now he had no time, and his fate had been chosen for him. If Lucy really was acting the fool and risking her life, then he would just have to rescue her. But if that were the case, it meant that he would also have to face Miraz, and he didn't know if he was ready for that.

Thankfully Drinian was at the reins, otherwise Caspian would've rode them into a tree. The ride was probably less than five miles, but to Caspian it felt like a lifetime. And sure enough, grazing majestically was horse with a massive, baroque frame and gleaming black fur. The bit in its mouth was silver as was most of the hardware. Rhince was right, the leather was embossed. Even across the plain Caspian recognized the swirling pattern of leaves and vines. He'd picked the pattern out himself.

"Destrier!" Drinian exclaimed softly. Caspian shook his head in disbelief.

"We're fucked."

Hello everybody! Three updates in less than two weeks. I feel accomplished. At least I think it's been less than two weeks...

Anyways, here's a note about Destrier. We don't really get a view of him in the movie. The most I've seen of him is, of course, from the movie, as well as one screenshot. And what did I gather?

The horse is black.

That's it.

But...! I have an ace in the hole. I did a little bit of research (Wikipedia), and found out that Destrier also refers to a specific kind of horse. It's not a breed, but rather the "best-known war horse of the medieval era." A destrier was, in tradition, a horse big and strong enough to carry an armor-clad soldier. These horses were often used in jousting tournaments. Destriers were highly prized and very expensive.

Some time ago, I spent a summer at a ranch where I worked with Friesian horses. As it turns out, Friesian horses are considered to have a destrier style physique. They're big, they're muscular, and guess what? They are BLACK. They have lustrous black coats and long, wavy manes. They're like something out of a fairytale.

So, it's not too much of a stretch to imagine that Caspian's Destrier was a baroque Friesian. For the purposes of this story, Destrier is a Friesian. They're beautiful horses, and the horse from the movie is very similar to them.

Go ahead and look up Friesian horses on Google images.

Also, REVIEW.